continued from here || @txrmundgiantsbane

          Ramsay couldn’t help but laugh, it was always incredibly amusing when his prisoners would get fiery and defiant…as if they still had any sort of power while chained to the cross House Bolton was known for. The battle had hardly gone how he’d hoped, that Snow bastard had won the battle but the war still raged. He would simply have to counter this loss from the walls of the Dreadfort instead of Winterfell…and it was preferable. 

          “Tell me, Wildling, have you seen my banners? If you have then you would know that your best option is to keep your mouth shut…unless you WANT your skin to be added to the walls of my keep, that is.”

“Banners are little more than drawings, and yours scare me no more than the Stark’s wolf does.” Tormund retaliated, partially aware that further antagonising the lord who had ordered him strapped to the great wooden cross was perhaps not the most intelligent move on his part. 

“You were defeated once, if you think I’m about to be scared of a little boy who turned tail and ran because the battle did not go his way, you are wrong.” He continued, attempting to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach at Ramsay’s expression. Free men did not show fear, and Tormund was not about to start begging for his life now, even in spite of his predicament.  

Brienne: All my life, I have wondered what it would be like to be looked at as an attractive woman.

Also Brienne: This is not exactly what I meant.

txrmundgiantsbane:

Sansa nodded, even if she was a bit skeptical. Though being stolen by wildling was more appealing than staying with her abusive husband. It had more chance of survival and the chance of seeing Jon again. With his help, Sansa clambered over the wall and fell into the fresh powder at the bottom. A few days earlier she had cursed the snow for being a catalyst for Stannis’ defeat, but now she was thankful for it. While she waited for Tormund to pull himself over, she pulled the hood over her head. Men always remembered what they couldn’t have.

“Where now?” The snow was cold against her skin. Being in a thing dress and a cloak wasn’t meant for escaping after a snow storm. Careful to grab onto his arm, she followed him closely into the treeline to meet the rest of his group. Thankfully, he wasn’t lying about the horse waiting for her. Riding had never been her strong suit, but now she couldn’t be more grateful. She pulled her cloak around her, trying to lessen the shivers that had already set in. “You all came to take me to Jon? “

“We did. You didn’t think Jon would really trust this entire thing to one man, did you? He wants you back safe, after all.” 

Tormund nodded, already beginning to relax now that they were safely ensconced in the shadow of the treeline, and Sansa was safely mounted on a horse. There was quite the rescue party waiting for her, a force Tormund had chosen himself for their swiftness and ability to be quiet and stealthy. Clearly the girl had not expected her brother to send out quite such a force, whether that was because she did not feel she deserved it, or because there was some rift between them, Tormund was not sure. 

Jon had not exactly been forthcoming with information about Sansa, any time he had told stories of his siblings it normally involved his brother Robb or his youngest sister Arya, so Sansa was somewhat of an enigma to him. “Now we take you North, to the wall. It won’t be as comfortable as you are used to, but it’s the safest place for you, under your brother’s care.” 

Accidental Marriage

Falling silent Liam contemplated the implications of this marriage he had woken up in, all while battling against the pounding in his head. This is why you don’t drink Jones, you make bad life choices… Though, he mused, marrying Tormund in itself wasn’t what he considered to be a bad life choice in itself, just the doing so in a drunken stupor.

“Aye, I’ve not got a bloody clue what happened last night, mate…” Liam admitted, glancing at Tormund briefly only to turn his gaze to the ring once more. “My mind’s blank beyond the bar…” He managed a slight chuckle at Tormund’s highly unlikely alternative scenario, amused that even now the man had a way of explaining things that simply verged on the extraordinary.

Surprise crossed his face as Tormund spoke of his good books and he shook his head. “Love, you’re in my ‘good books’ as you say, more than you give yourself credit for. I do love you, after all.” His declaration of love was surprisingly easier and more forthcoming than usual, though Liam supposed I might be due to this development. He sighed exasperatedly at the surnames and looked across at Tormund long-sufferingly.

“IF you think I’m taking Giantsbane, you’ve got another think coming.”

“Which bar? We went to several” Tormund replied with a smirk, knowing that he at least remembered a precious few more fragments of the night than Liam did. It was a relief to him to see Liam wasn’t screaming and fleeing, or hitting him with the nearest heavy object, so clearly he wasn’t entirely upset with the apparent events of the previous evening. 

The laugh and confession was far more than Tormund could have ever hoped for, though he supposed it was what should be expected of a married couple. He knew Liam loved him of course, even before all of this had occurred, but there was still something special about hearing the words from Liam himself. 

“I love you too, Liam Giantsbane. Who’s to say you didn’t already change your name last night, hmm? Giantsbane is a good Nordic name, strong. Strikes fear into the heart of men. Jones isn’t bad per se, but it’s not even in the same league as Giantsbane, my love.” 

I’m melting…

Sharing Stories

allthosevoices:

[Text: Little Lion] Well 

[Text: Little Lion] There was the one time where I was drunk 

[Text: Little Lion] And I slept with a bear 

[Text: Little Lion] Would that be an interesting enough tale?

txrmundgiantsbane:

“I have nothing here that I need.” Finally her eyes rose to find the man within the trees. He wasn’t a man of the Watch, clearly by his dress in furs over the black leather and cloaks they always war. A wildling. Why would Jon send a wildling? She wanted to withdraw and go back to the castle, but instead she rose and hurried towards him. If a wildling knew her name, then Jon MUST have sent him.

“They’ll look for me soon. We have to leave now. It’ll only be moments before they start scouring the castle.” She didn’t know if they actually had a chance, but Sansa would take it. The risk was worth it over another night under his hands. “How do you propose we get out?”

“The same way I got in. I’ve scaled the wall enough times, your castle walls are nothing in comparison to all that ice. I’ll help you over, then I’ll follow. We meet some of my people in the forests beyond, they’ll have a horse for you.” Tormund explained, finally stepping over to her and taking her arm in a firm grip, though not strong enough to cause any pain. 

His own thoughts echoed her own somewhat, they really had no time to waste if they were going to make their escape. Without another word he started to guide her towards the section of wall he had scaled to get into Winterfell’s grounds, hoping that his suspicions that someone may have seen his entry were wrong, for both of their sakes. He reasoned that if someone had indeed seen him, he’d already be a dead man, and there was no point dwelling on the topic until that outcome became a reality. 

Enforced Rest

The ferocity of Tormund’s tone surprised Liam, for he had not suspected that he might be so bothered by his condition, and he wilted a little under it, too exhausted to argue back. The pillows felt soft beneath his head and he relaxed into them, eyes finally heavy with the weight of his need to sleep, limbs like lead as he finally conceded his stubborn attitude in favour of what he so desperately required.

“Just an hour or two,” he negotiated, reaching for his phone to set an alarm that would wake him after, having faith that despite how he felt he would wake at its sound. “I have to think of everything else, it’s my job to…” he protested quietly, yawning as soon as the words left him. The gentle clasp of Tormund’s hand about his own was something he returned, squeezing his fingers in a silent thank you for making him slow down and realise what he was doing to himself. He really is exactly what I need. “Love you too…” he murmured quietly, words distant as his eyes closed, unable to stay open with the warmth of the blanket and comfort of his bed.  

Tormund made a note to himself to delete that alarm as soon as he was certain that Liam was actually asleep, he was not about to let him force himself out of bed when he was clearly so exhausted that he could hardly keep his eyes open. He waited a couple of beats for Liam’s breathing to even out before he took the phone, stopping to take a silly picture of himself to cheer Liam up when he awoke, and to delete those pesky alarms. 

As for the tasks Liam had lined up for the afternoon, Tormund was sure he could accomplish them himself. He’d grown up in a town where everyone knew each other, and he’d babysat plenty of times in the past when he was strapped for money and he couldn’t imagine that Killian would be any worse than Ygritte had been in the past. He could tidy and clean, and all would be ready for when sleeping beauty awoke. Hastily he scribbled a note to Liam, explaining his plan and ordering the other man to stay in bed as long as possible once he awoke.

Tormund raised one red brow, incredulous that Jon would even dare to say that he looked like Santa Claus. He was no way near as rotund or old as that fable, that much was for certain. “You think I look like Santa? Do you have eyes, Jon? I look nothing like him. I also have no desire to have anyone other than you sat on my lap.” He added, unable to resist the extra comment. 

“Mistletoe is fine, when it’s in a place full of beautiful men and women. Unfortunately it is always around toothless women with almost as many beard hairs as I do” 

@txrmundgiantsbane

“Did you see the way she looked at me?”

“You mean with disgust?”

Tormund snorted, incredulous that she could truly believe what she said. 

“That was not disgust. She may look ferocious, but there is something more than hatred behind these eyes.” 

Sharing Stories

hxndofthequeen:

[Text: Little Lion]  My own tale? 

[Text: Little Lion] After a mystery like that what story of mine could you possibly want to know about? 

[Text: Little Lion] I’ve never taken an ass into a brothel if that is what you’re asking.