3rd Person POV
Merica and Meron ran, their short legs crunching through the snow with each desperate step.
Pitter-patter went their feet—a rhythmic echo nearly drowned out by the howls and growls of the beasts behind them. Meron risked a glance over his shoulder and quickly turned back, urging his sister to run faster, and behind them...
Blood trailed down his face from a wound that had blinded his right eye.
Theon Snow gave chase atop his massive Ice Bear, its immense bulk closing the distance with terrifying speed. The shadow of death and torment loomed ever closer, nipping at the heels of the fleeing twins.
To the left of the Bear, almost a blur, a shadow hiding behind the veil of snowfall. A feline that is half as great in size as the Ice bear ran, its mouth and fangs dripping with blood and gore that stained the white snow red.
Theon Snow 'The Bastard' POV
'Insolent, Savage brutes! How dare these unthinking animals in human skin think they have the right?'
I felt the numbing but throbbing pain on the right side of my face, and the coppery taste filled my tongue as drops of it entered my mouth. I frowned as the sudden snowfall made it harder and harder to see the running wildling children.
'This is a fool's errand, but a son must follow the will of their father, bastard and trueborn alike. Maybe Father will reward me with a jeweled replacement like Aemond Targaryen is said to have'
I thought back to the rumors circulating about war in the South, how the dragon of greens and blacks is snapping at one another in court. "Grave tidings," my father had said. Opportunities await House Bolton to rise amidst the oncoming storm.
Then the sudden prick of pain reminded me again of what this journey has cost.
"This expedition this far North to find a 'Stark' enough brood mare has cost me dearly. Bad enough I had to associate with Wildlings, but to find a Stark-looking woman amongst them... I have half a mind to take my warging gifts and conquer these savages."
Seeing one of the twins trip and fall caused some amusement. The other one, her twin. I have half a mind to take him with me as well, just to have him watch our House guards rail his sister day and night.
As I approach, I can hear the little beast growl at me, granite grey eyes looking at me with hate and savagery. Reminiscent of how enemies of House Stark describe how the ancient winter kings fought more like beasts than men.
"It was a valiant effort Wildlings, however, things are not so easily forgiven." My shadow cat lunged and bit the male twin at the shoulder, just enough to cause the boy pain but not end him.
"ARGHH!" I smirked as I heard him yowl in pain, and the horror on the girl's face as she looked on; I felt pleasure under my jerkin just thinking of the suffering she had to endure.
How long will she last before breaking? A week? Or perhaps a day if they both were passed around by the guards of the dreadfort.
I got off my ice bear, the scrunch of fresh snow under my boot as I walked towards the twins.
"You have caused me enough trouble for what you are worth, wildling. Be glad I only let my Shadow cat take a bite and not eat you where you stand." I walked past the male twin and reached my hand to grasp a fistful of hair from the girl and pulled.
"AHH!"
"MERICA! YOU BASTARD!"
I looked at the boy and walked back towards the bear. I made sure to make the cat bite harder.
I can't help but feel annoyance at all this, sent to the end of the world in search of Stark blood amidst savages and cannibals. If I were less quick-witted, I would have run at the first word dear Lord Bolton spoke.
After all, why get killed at the Dreadfort with no way to fight back and thus giving pretext for my own death in the dungeons, instead of accepting this doomed quest from a high lord to maybe survive?
After all, dear brother already has an heir, and father and he seemed to agree on how they would kill me.
I dragged the girl, and my shadow cat dragged the boy, but I noticed something odd. My Ice bear, taller than a warhorse and thrice as violent as a dothraki screamer.
Was bowing its head in supplication; the furs stood up like needles, and its eyes dilated to the size of marbles.
I then heard something whimpering behind me, and as I looked back, I felt this unbearable heat.
I looked at what was before me.
At first I thought it was a statue, imposibly massive and still. It towered over anything I had ever seen in this white wasteland save for the Wall, its body was broad and powerful, with muscles that could crush stone to powder.
A body that looked to be made from basalt with cracks of molten rock that pooled and cascaded down to its glowing orange fist. Its head is crowned by two colossal horns, sweeping outward before curling forward like the horns of an ancient ram. A mane of dark, coarse hair hangs heavily around its neck and shoulders, threaded with ash and frost.
Then I made eye contact and felt sweat running down my brow even though it was as cold as it can be in the north; I felt my legs waver, the hand holding the girl loosen and let go. I fell back as all I could see were the eyes, glowing, burning like a furnace of an ancient forge.
Then the living mountain spoke like cascading boulders.
"You brought death to my mountain"
It was then that I noticed the being held something in its molten hand, a colossal block of dark metal fixed to a shaft thick enough to be a tree trunk. Its face glowed, matching its molten hands.
This was no giant; no, this was something else, something older, something that was there to hammer the mountains and the hills, the something that carved entire valleys before man set foot in these lands.
The last thing I thought was the descent of the hammer.
And the world shook as the world forger's blow flattened the Bastard of the leech lord.