Sitting at the fire, watching the Skirling Pass, deep in the mountains of the bitter cold Frost Fangs, we were, when four crows flew in and took out the two that was with me. I found meself wrestling for me life with a pretty lad, much me own years. I broke away from him and was reaching for me axe when he grabbed me furs from behind and spun me around ta face him. He pushed me down, pressing me back to a hard, icy boulder. His longsword was at me throat. The site of the gleaming Valyrian steel sent ice shafts through me, down to me bones. The layers and layers of furs I was wearing couldn’t keep me warm from the coldness of the steel. He jerked me hood back and pressed the bastard blade closer to me throat, all in one motion. Then he froze as me red hair spilled from the hood.
“This one’s a girl.” He said surprised, looking over to Qhorin Halfhand and the others, with a confused look across his face.
“A wildling.” Qhorin said summarily, as if that’s all a person needed ta know ta take another person’s life. I kept me mouth shut and tried to figure out how I was going to get away. “She will kill you just as quick as any of the rest. We don’t have the men to watch her nor the food to feed her. Kill her now and be done with it.” Qhorin pulled his blade, meanin’ to slit me throat, I’m sure. We free folk know who the Halfhand is. Qhorin Halfhand was a legendary Ranger of the Men of The Night’s Watch, He’d been givin’ us trouble for a long time.
“We could question her!” The black-haired boy said, holding his blade firmly to me throat.
“You could, but she’s not like to answer.” The Ranger said, walking closer to where the boy had me pinned to the boulder with his weight and bastard blade, looking at me like he’d never seen a girl before. “I’ve seen ‘em bite off their tongue rather than talk.” He said, now standing beside me captor.
“What’s your name?” Snow asked.
“Ygritte.” I told him, looking from him to the Halfhand, and back to him, wondering what they were truly going to do with me, and wishing to all the gods I could reach me axe!
“She was reachin’ for this ax when ya got to her.” Qhorin told him, picking up me ax and holding it out for Snow ta see. “Give her half a chance, and she’ll bury it in your face!”
“I gave ya my name,” I told him who was holding me against the rock, studying his handsome boyish face.
“I’m Jon Snow,” He said, backing away from me just a bit, but keeping the point of his blade close set to me throat. He and the Halfhand were looking at me like I was lunch. I looked at them and at the dead laying at their feet, then back at them.
“You ought to burn those you killed.” I tried to tell ‘em, but all they wanted to do was accuse me of trying to signal the rest of me people. They wouldn’t listen to nothing about the wight walkers. Apparently this crow, Snow, has killed one, and fancies himself able to slay all wights. Thinkin’ I’m tryin’ ta signal Mance with a fire, are ya? I don’t need no fire for that. Mance has got eyes everywhere. “Burn them or maybe you’ll need those swords again,” I tried to tell ‘em again.
“What waits beyond the pass?” The Halfhand asked.
“The free folk,” I said without hesitation.
“How many?” The crow Qhorin wanted to know. I chuckled at the question.
“‘Undreds and thousands.” I told him. “More than you’ve ever seen, crow.” All the free folk, except evil Craster and his poor daughter- wives, had gathered and joined with Mance Rayder, the former crow and our chosen King Beyond the Wall.
“Why come to the mountains? What’s in the Frost Fangs that your “king” could want?” The old ranger asked. When I wouldn’t answer, he asked, “Do you mean to march on The Wall?” He moved closer to me. He reached out, caressed my cheek with a lover’s touch, and asked, “Do you know who I am, girl?”
“Qhorin Halfhand,” I told him. Yeah, we know who you are.
“Tell me true,” He commanded. “If your people captured me, would they take me prisoner?”
“They would take your head off your shoulders if they was feeling kind,” I told him. No reason to lie, he would find out soon enough, whether they killed me or no. “If not, they’d kill ya slow.”
The Halfhand didn’t like that answer none too well. After little more conversation he was goin’ for me head again. But Snow stopped him, saying HE would be the one to cut it off. Qhorin told Snow to be quick about it, and to meet him at the top. He took the other crows, and left Jon Snow to remove me head with that Valyrian steel bastard blade of his.
Jon Snow looked at me like he was about the throw up as Qhorin Halfhand and the rest left him to tend to the task at hand. The forlorn boy, who’d vowed his entire life away to the order of the crows, appeared lost and conflicted. A furrow crossed his brow as he looked over at me.
“You never killed a woman before, did ya?” I asked him. “Well, ya don’t need ta do it. Mance would take ya, I know he would,” I said. Yes, I knew Mance would be wanting Ned Stark’s bastard. The Starks had the blood of the First Men running through them. “There are secret ways,” I whispered. “The crows would never catch us.” He dug the tip of his sword blade into me throat ta shut me up.
Slowly, I turned to face the boulder, still trying to figure out how I was gonna get out of this. Stretching me neck out, I asked him to burn me after. But he said he would have no fire, for fear that someone would see the smoke. I pulled the hood of me furs back, showing him my neck. If I had to die, I wanted it done clean and quickly.
“Strike hard and true, Jon Snow,” I told him, with my back ta him. “Or, I’ll come back and haunt ya.” The blade gently touched the back of me neck. “That’s cold,” I said. But, then nothing happened. “Go on, be quick about it,” I told him.
“Bastard! Do ‘et!” I yelled at him.
I felt the blade rise from me neck, and heard it woosh past me head and hit the rock just in front of me sounding a solid clank of steel on frozen stone..
I dared look sideways for a moment, quickly looking for his face, his eyes -What happened? How did he miss ? He was looking at me, and the sword, and the rock, with that sick and confused look on his face.
That was all the opportunity I needed.
I punched his knee out from under him, knocked him to the ground, ran down the slope and away, as fast as I could, trying to ignore the crunch of snow under his boots as he came rushing after me. I don’t know what happened that time to stop the blade from takin’ me head, but I was takin’ no chances. I knew where I had to get to, and I was running for all me life!
* quotes from GOT Season 2 and paraphrased.