Game Of Thrones: The Many-Faced God

26- Horn Hill (I)

The carriage rolled over the last hillside, and Sam was home. The pale, squared faces of flat sandstone, interlaced with arching pillars greeted him from atop the great, rounded hill for which it was named. 

Holding Little Sam up so he could see, Sam pointed out along the road all his favorite reading spots, from when he was young. The rock fall, the crooked tree, the ruined fort... Gilly laughed when he told Little Sam about "falling down that ravine, there."

Sam looked fondly on Gilly, enjoying her laugh to its last note. Taking a breath, he kept the promise he had made to himself two weeks ago, when he left the North.

"Gilly," Sam breathed, pulling her delighted smile from the carriage window, "From the first moment I met you, I knew you would be important to me for the rest of my life... and..." he took a breath, "...I'd like you to... I mean, will you marry me?"

Her smile fell, and Sam's stomach dropped. "You're the Lord of Horn Hill, now," Gilly said soberly, "If I marry ya, that makes me the Lady of Horn Hill... Don't you think your people'll think you mad, for marryin' a Wildling?"

"I think I could give a bloody rat's arse what they think about you, or me!" Sam laughed, and bounced Little Sam on his knee to distract from his cursing.

"Are you sure?" Gilly asked, and Sam nodded once. "Then, I will," Gilly laughed, leaning over to plant a long kiss on him. They held hands until the first view of Horn Hill vanished behind another rolling hillside. The carriage plucked along for another hour, and Sam grew itchy in his wools to be done with it, to be home with his family... and to discover if there was any word waiting for him, from Jon.

The news of the Great War could be good or bad, but if Sam arrived home, and there was no news at all... Sam shuddered, grateful to see the shadow of the gate pass briefly over his carriage, which rolled along another hundred feet or so, and stopped.

Mother and Talla were awaiting them, holding their skirts high and hastening to close the last of the distance in the courtyard. Forgetting his fears for a moment, Sam waved and almost broke the carriage door, to have it open as fast as he could manage.

"My boy!" Lady Melessa Tarly cried, pulling Sam's face to her lips and laying three kisses on his cheek. His mother pulled back, but kept his hands. "My Lord..." she said thickly, "Welcome home."

Talla had already pulled Gilly aside, and Sam's younger sister squealed suddenly. "You didn't tell me you got engaged!" Talla accused, throwing herself into his arms.

He grunted at the impact. "Well it only happened about five minutes ago!" Sam said in his defense. Sam's mother joined the embrace, and then Gilly. All their warmth almost made him forget the chilly wind, which had nagged at him the whole ride South of Winterfell. It could be a spring wind... Sam thought hopefully, or it could be from the Night King's eternal Storm...

After a few more fond words, spoken in rushed voices in the courtyard of Horn Hill, Sam insisted that they all retire inside, from the wind. His family accompanied him, for the walk.

"You have letters," his mother said importantly as they moved through the halls. "From Jon?" Sam asked, and his mother nodded. "And everywhere else," she replied. 

So there is some news, at least... Sam hastened his step to the Lord's chambers, striding beside his mother, while Talla and Gilly followed just behind. He had decided he would not tell his family about the Army of the Dead unless he had a very good reason to. Finding out Night King's still on the bloody march South would be a bloody good reason...