Game of Thrones: A Tale of a Coward

For the North - Saulmund II

If Saulmund had thought some southerners would have been the end to his party, he would not have ventured south of the Wall for his father at all. Alas, the Wildlings that kept him and his sister company, dead. Brutus, slain by Mirk in an unfair battle. Their father, most likely dead. And now he and his sister remain these southerners prisoners.

"We'll get out, won't we, Saulmund? We cannot surely mean to die here," his sister wonders. Her sweet words break Saulmund's heart.
"I'm afraid I'm not too sure of anything as of late. With everyone we loved murdered, I fear we will meet the same fate." He has lost all hope for either of their survival.
"But... it's us. We're not gonna die."
"Sooner than we hoped, I imagine now. These people... they have no sense, and yet they slay our friends. How is this so? They have power from the gods. And they wish to use that power for our demise."

The two had been ignored and tied up the same tree the entire day. They noticed one man, whom they named 'Ser Duncan', glance in their direction every now and then, checking on them Saulmund supposed. In the night, they had awoken to a woman screaming, which Saulmund had to calm his sister about. Eventually, the yelling had stopped. They managed to get some rest for the few hours that remained that night.

After being left with only questions about the previous day, Luciara and Rosemary approached the two. "What are you here for? Why did you come down here?" Lucia questions.
"We were looking for our father. He came down here, so me and Saulmund followed after he didn't return for quite some time," Seramund answers.
"Obviously we needed protection, so that's why the others were there," Saulmund adds.
"You wouldn't harm us if we released you? Because we are all free from the wars of the Seven Kingdoms and the Wall and everything else in this group. We're cowards, and here to survive," Rosemary explains. "So would you harm us?" she asks.
"I would never," says Seramund.
"It's doubtful. If you wish me to promise something, then no I shall not harm any of you." With that, Luciara sets them free by cutting rope.

Saulmund and Seramund don't quite believe it at first, however come to terms that the gods have spared them for good reason. Perhaps to assist this group's survival by protecting them, as they have learned from their Wildling friends. They didn't seem to have many swords, and even fewer carried them.

After settling in with them (or just sitting close by them), Saulmund remembers Mirk and realises he is not with the rest. "Where is Mirk? He killed our strongest man, so surely you need him alive," Saulmund asks. No one answers, but Lucia gives them a stare that seems to answer everything.

The night approaches them faster than anticipated, and Saulmund and Seramund were resting on their backs, staring at the night sky and the wonders, the shining stars and the majestic moon flying by. Black. Then light. With the sun having returned in what seems no time at all.

The twins were tasked with gathering wood for a fire, although it seems they were still not entirely trusted, considering Ser Duncan accompanied the two. "So what was life like north of the Wall?" he questions.
"Harsh. Cold. Challenging. Lonely. The darkness was coming, so we had to evacuate sometime. Our father on his journey was more an excuse to leave."
"It wasn't any fun, either. Neither were there any pretty castles," Seramund adds, still obsessing with the southerner's castles; the main reason they were caught by Luciara.

"Do you truly think we'll ever see father again?" Seramund quizzes her brother.
"It's unlikely. But we have to survive for him. We have to carry on for the North. The real North. And that we shall."

As that day's night gradually crept up on the group, and the moon trailed across the sky, Luciara spoke to them all, "We fled Winterfell for our safety. And as it turns out, that was our best option. I last saw it being invaded by men of the Iron Islands. Either they or all our friends back at Winterfell are dead. But it is no lie that there were losses. We have suffered long enough playing the high lords' games, and I am sick of it. I would have ourselves isolated from these wars, from, every usurper and every Lord and every knight. We start our own lives, as free men and women. Free folk, like the Wildlings are. Find a nice place to start a farm and build a life for ourselves. Leave everything behind. Every title, every name, everyone we lost. Start anew, and begin now.
"Or continue our journey down the Neck and help my cousin defeat the Lannister's and take Joffrey's head. Both are tempting to me, so I decide that we will help Robb, but after some time, we will remove ourselves from the Kingdoms and become independent on our own. I know I said to leave everything behind and am becoming rather hypocritical here, but I will not rest easy knowing my family are in danger every second I draw breath. I will go all the way to King's Landing or Casterly Rock, but I will do what I can, and you will, too.
"All we shall do is help the North reach out, while we stand back and watch them take it. After that, we will live peacefully on our own. Because I will not see more bloodshed; I cannot bear it. If anyone has any concerns, please speak now." They remain silent. "Good."

After that night, everyone packs up their belongings and make way for King Robb's battles. They know the King in the North has many fights to face, most of which Luciara has promised to assist in, and Saulmund cannot argue that living in peace and prosperity and out of these Kingdoms is wrong in an way; it's, what he supposes, is what he has always wanted. Now he hopes to see a grand end to his days, along with his sister.