The sky stayed a dull gray-white.
Snow lay deep everywhere, muffling the world.
Every step Aragorn took crunched loudly under his boots.
He shook fresh snow off his cloak and was grateful for the heavy fur lining.
Even with his high cold resistance the wind still bit.
He pulled the flask from his belt and took a swallow of strong liquor to warm his chest.
The snow had started light three days ago and never really stopped.
With the giant stag still rampaging through villages and ruining crops, Lord Stark had put a bounty on its head—fifty silver stags, plus the hide, antlers, and meat.
Hunters had gone into the woods in groups and come back empty-handed after days of searching.
Aragorn had decided to try his luck.
He needed good hides and antlers for repairing his gear, and the materials in his inventory wouldn’t last forever.
One solid kill would solve that problem for a while.
He had been about to head back when he spotted movement.
The deer was limping badly, one leg dragging through the snow.
An arrow already stuck out of its thigh.
Aragorn didn’t hesitate.
He drew, aimed, and loosed in one smooth motion.
The arrow took the animal through the neck.
It staggered, kicked once, and went down.
He jogged over to finish it cleanly.
Then black-armored men stepped out of the trees on every side and surrounded him.
Aragorn’s hand went to his sword hilt.
He hadn’t realized he’d wandered onto someone else’s hunting ground.
Four figures stood in the middle of the ring.
The man in front wore a heavy cloak over dark robes, a direwolf embroidered on his chest.
Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, watched him with a calm, almost amused expression.
To his right stood a tall, arrogant-looking youth in black with a golden kraken on his chest—Theon Greyjoy.
He was already smirking like he was about to watch someone get punished.
Behind them were two other young men close in age to Theon, both with Stark features.
Robb Stark looked serious and already trying to imitate his father’s authority.
Jon Snow looked worried and kept glancing at Aragorn.
“Lord Stark,” Aragorn said, bowing.
“You know me.” “I know your sigil, my lord.” Ned’s eyes dropped to the dead deer.
“That arrow in its neck.
Yours?” Before Aragorn could answer, Theon stepped forward and drew his sword.
“You stole Lord Stark’s kill, peasant.
On your knees.” ” Theon, stop,” Jon said quickly.
“I don’t take orders from you, bastard.
Only from Lord Stark.” “Put the sword away, Theon,” Ned said, voice quiet but carrying.
“The kill belongs to this man.” Theon looked like he’d been slapped.
He sheathed the blade with bad grace.
Ned turned back to Aragorn, expression softening.
“No need to be nervous, lad.
The deer is yours.
That was fine shooting.
Where were you standing when you took the shot?” Aragorn pointed back the way he had come, toward a tall pine a good distance away.
“From there, my lord.” One of the guards snorted.
“Don’t lie to Lord Stark, boy.
No one makes that shot.” Aragorn pulled another arrow from his quiver, turned, and loosed without seeming to aim.
The shaft thudded into the exact same tree, knocking a small avalanche of snow from the branches.
Theon’s mouth fell open.
Ned gave a short, approving nod.
“Excellent work.
We’ll leave you to your prize.” He studied Aragorn for a moment longer.
“What’s your name?” “Aragorn .” “Aragorn.
Come serve under me.
A bow like yours would be useful.” Aragorn bowed again, deeper this time.
“Thank you, my lord, but I’m not from the North.
I’ve traveled a long way.
I’m not looking to swear myself to anyone’s service.” Ned looked disappointed but not angry.
“I thought as much.
If you were one of mine I would have heard of an archer this good already.” He paused.
“If you ever change your mind and want steady work with a sword in your hand instead of just hunting, come find me.
You’ve got the makings of a good soldier.” “I’ll keep it in mind, my lord.” Ned gave him a final nod and turned away.
“Come on.
There’s still a stag out there somewhere.” The group moved off through the snow.
Theon shot Aragorn one last glare over his shoulder before following.
Aragorn waited until they were out of sight, then let out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
He had no interest in becoming anyone’s sworn man.
That kind of bond came with chains he didn’t want.
Better to stay free, finish what he came for, and move on when the time felt right.
He knelt beside the deer and started working on the hide.
At least now he wouldn’t have to worry about materials for a while.