asgardeventide | first wildling ❄ ( video )

Oi, [Comes the booming voice of one redhead, trying to understand this thing on her wrist. For a moment she shakes her wrist before looking back down.]

You lot, if y'can see me. [She's just looking down scornfully. Wildlings don't even understand Southern technology and you want to throw this at her.]

I have a few choice words for your gods, but first. Jon Snow, if y'be here, you best reply to me here. Don't think I've forgot about you, just 'cuz I've wound up here. You know nothing. [She has some hope that if these gods could choose her, he'd be here, too. Then the Crows wouldn't matter (not that they did to begin with). But neither would the Wall nor her people.]

You other lot, not bein' Jon Snow, I'd ask the same as I did them girls I talked to. What keeps you from goin' outside the city? Where I'm from we do as we please, the Free Folk. No god cares 'bout what we do as men. Or women. Why fight their war? I fought my own war because some Southern king decided years ago he'd put my people behind some great wall. I decided to be a spearwife to lodge me own spear up every Crow whose crossed into our land's ass. [That didn't exactly happen, but semantics.]

It was my lands though. If y'can't fight for what's yours, maybe you never deserved it. Don't need no named god tellin' me that.

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[Right. A very long Talk. Involving vows and why you should never ever break them ever. For now, though, Robb tries to keep his face straight and his expression mostly blank, even as he's thinking, Damn it, Jon.]

Aye. [It's a little clipped and curt.] And who might you be, then?

[She's all very tongue in cheek about this, more amused than revered to be talking to Lord Stark. Especially about his brother's sex life.]

Ygritte. Y'wouldn't know me. My father's done nothin' important.

[w h y.]

But you know my brother. [Intimately, which is something he is still stuck on. Ohhhh, gods, this is not a conversation he is equipped to have.] How?

[He says it like he's dreading the answer.]

I stole'im. [She grins again, far too amused by Robb's reaction.]

He's mine. And he shared my furs. When he was one of us. [Then he betrayed her and all of her people to run back to his Crows and warn them. It makes things a little complicated now.]

...you can't steal a person.

[This is the most awkward moment of his life, and he is counting the time his mother caught him making off with an armful of cakes when he was like six.]

Oh. Did he now. [That is the flat tone of someone who is going to have a very long talk with his brother after this.]

Says the lord stolen by named gods. [Please, Robb.]

An' what? Are you his keeper? Never fancied yourself wantin' a woman. You're a pretty lad, too. And a lord no less. Bet you had your pick of girls climbin' all over your cock.

[What is shame? Something Ygritte clearly does not have.]

I follow the old gods. As far as I can remember, they're the same gods you follow.

[oh gods why]

I'm his brother, and a man wedded and bedded, at that. [Okay, so the bedding came before the wedding but no one needs to know.]

I know which gods you follow. [Claiming to be from the First Men.] But you were still stolen by Loki and Heimdall and whatever else they call themselves.

An' what? That makes you better. He was mine, and I was his. [Don't care about your opinions, Robb.]

first wildling ❄ ( video )

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