Listening to the tale spun by the two half-grown children, Thorfinn found himself drawn in...
Morla was twelve this year, and Merek thirteen. Originally, the brother and sister had come from a family that lived comfortably enough. Their father had once been a raider himself, but as the saying goes, "A wolf that hunts too often is bound to fall into a trap." He perished to the south during one of his excursions.
Their lives took a harsh turn a few years past, when their father never returned. Their mother struggled alone to raise the two children. The hardships of their existence forced the siblings to grow up quickly and assist their mother in keeping their meager lives afloat.
Yet, that suffering was only the beginning. Like an old wound festering beneath the skin, more troubles were yet to come. The villagers around them were also forced to endure the tyranny of a certain man. Pressured by his demands, the mother was handed over by the village folk to that cursed man and never returned.
Women who returned from his camp said that those who did not come back were as good as dead...
The man who instilled such hatred in Merek and Morla was Varamyr, a gifted bastard from the Free Folk, commonly known as Four Skins.
Varamyr Four Skins was a dreaded Skinchanger, famed for riding a thirteen-foot-tall bear into battle. It was said he ruled over his own great hall, built of moss, mud, and wood. A dozen settlements paid him tribute, and when he desired a woman, he would send his Shadowcat to fetch her from the village. The women who came were sometimes sobbing, sometimes silent, but all of them were filled with venomous resentment.
In short, he was a Skinchanger hated and yet tolerated by many. Even the bravest of raiders feared these Skinchangers who commanded the strength of beasts.
Morla's mother was one of the women Varamyr had demanded. Perhaps she was more unlucky than the others, or perhaps she refused to suffer the dishonor, but either way, she was most likely dead.
That is the way of a society unbound by law. Once the inner demon is unleashed by desire, a man turns into a beast: a killer, a savage, a worshipper of the jungle's law of the strong devouring the weak.
Darie was heartbroken by the siblings' story, and Reynar sighed heavily. Even Orrik felt sorrow for their misfortune. Reynar understood the peril of raiding; a raider's life was "a toss of the dice, but a blade's worth of skill." He pitied the children, Morla and Merek.
Reynar cursed angrily, "That was Varamyr's doing, was it? Sounds like the kind of evil a bastard like him would commit."
Reynar's reaction made Thorfinn curious. "Father, you know of him?"
Reynar grew serious. "I know of him, but we've never met. I heard tales from an old friend of mine. He despises the man. Varamyr has a foul reputation even among the Skinchanger circles. But what can you do when a man's gifts are so powerful? Perhaps even the Old Gods make mistakes when they hand out talents..."
Merek cursed with fresh anger, "That blackguard deserves to die!"
Seeing the downcast look on Morla's face, Darie spoke with sympathy, "Do you have a place to go now? A place to truly settle? By the Old Gods! How will you two survive without kin to shelter you?"
Merek said, "We still had our own tent in the village, but I suppose others have claimed it by now. At least I was able to protect my sister..." He bit his lip. He hated that he wasn't strong enough. If he had been able to guard all that was theirs, they wouldn't have been forced to wander.
Seeing Merek's guilt, Morla quickly offered comfort, "Brother, you have done so well. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Watching the exchange, Thorfinn was reminded of another pair of siblings, far across the Shivering Sea: the last blood of the Dragon's House, the exiled Targaryens. They, too, were likely not living comfortably. Though Merek and Morla weren't forced to live in fear of the Usurper's shadows, their plight was hardly better.
After an exchange of glances between the parents,
It was Reynar, the typically more reserved one, who spoke up. "The two of you should stay. We have a clear patch of ground right next to our tent, and enough cured hides for you to set up your own shelter. Orrik and Thorfinn can help you—it won't take long at all."
Darie agreed, "If you have no place to go, then stay. Merek can learn to hunt with Reynar, and Morla can assist me with my tasks."
Morla and Merek were stunned, dazed by the unexpected gift. They had already observed that this family was far from ordinary; by the standards of the Free Folk, they were not struggling, and they had a Skinchanger who was so young.
Merek was at a loss for words, his flushed face a mask of confusion and surprise.
After the shock wore off, Morla replied, "Is this truly allowed? The Gods are good! To have met you is a true blessing for us. Others let us stay the night before, but none ever asked us to remain... Thank you so much."
Merek quickly added, "Thank you for your kindness, Uncle Reynar, and Aunt Darie."
Thorfinn offered no objection, but Orrik was thrilled. He had someone to keep him company now, and surely anyone would be more interesting than Thorfinn. His brother had the earnest sense of duty of a firstborn but was quite boring. His days were filled with an unshakable routine of training and practice, and he spent pitifully little time with his brother. Luckily, Orrik had grown used to it from childhood, or he'd have died of boredom.
The next day, Thorfinn and Orrik worked with Merek and Morla, assisted by Darie, to build the tent. After a full day of labor—erecting the frame and adding insulating materials for warmth—the small, neat tent was finished.
Morla and Merek were ecstatic. It was a cozy little sanctuary they hadn't had in ages. They were so moved that they both shed tears of joy, thanking Thorfinn's family repeatedly.
Reynar had not taken part in the building, as he had other business. He had left that morning with several cured, high-quality hides slung over his back and did not return until evening. He had gone to a nearby trading post where merchants, who had braved the dangers to get there, would often linger. They traded cheap goods for fine furs, and the round-trip brought them a vast bounty of Gold Dragons; sea trade was a profitable venture in these times.
Reynar brought back a sack of coarse salt and some onions—rare luxuries Beyond the Wall. Along with the supplies, he brought a piece of news that was most welcome to Thorfinn.
That evening, Reynar informed Thorfinn, "I reached out to my old friend. He has agreed to take you under his wing. But there's a condition... from now on, you'll be following him to learn how to master your Skinchanger abilities, to unlock your full potential, and to not squander this gift of yours."
Thorfinn nodded slightly. This was something he had long expected. His old man's contacts seemed stronger than he thought; he had assumed his father would have to ask around for a mentor, yet here was a Skinchanger he already knew. Thinking it over, it made sense: as a former raider, he would have met all sorts of people.
Thorfinn asked with a hint of eagerness, "What is his name? What is his beast-companion? And... he's not an old man, is he?"
Seeing Thorfinn's impatience, Reynar couldn't resist a little teasing. It had been a long time since his son had provided him with such fatherly amusement.
Reynar chuckled. "You'll find out when you meet him, son. The man is fiercely proud; if I hadn't saved his miserable hide years ago, he wouldn't give you the time of day. Ha ha ha!"
Thorfinn rolled his eyes at Reynar's playful secrecy. "Perhaps you're right. I'll find out when I go!" Thorfinn stopped asking, which left Reynar momentarily speechless. Foiled in his attempt to tease, Reynar cleared his throat a few times to cover his embarrassment.
At that moment, Orrik asked, "Father, why is it that Thorfinn and I are both your sons, yet I don't feel I have the Skinchanger's gift, but he does?"
Darie sensed Orrik's slight disappointment. She rubbed his head and laughed, "Some things are simply born in a person. Didn't Thorfinn always have strange dreams when he was little? That can be one of the first signs of a Skinchanger."
Orrik scratched his head, confused. "I've had dreams like that too! Not as often as Thorfinn, but a few times. Does that mean I can become a Skinchanger as well?"
Thorfinn looked at the happily surprised Orrik and replied, "Orrik, shifting into an animal in a dream and using their body is indeed a sign of a Skinchanger's gift. If you truly have had similar dreams, then you can try to forge a bond with Snow. Perhaps one day you too will become a Skinchanger? We share the same blood; there's no reason you shouldn't have the same gift."
Thorfinn wasn't speaking carelessly. One only had to look at the Stark family: nearly all of them possessed the potential to be a Skinchanger. Take Arya, for instance—she had frequent wolf dreams, shifting into her wolf, Nymeria. And her younger brother, Bran, later became a Greenseer.
His older brother's encouragement lit a fire in Orrik's eyes, planting a seed of hope in his heart. Seeing Orrik's sudden eagerness, Darie and Reynar weren't sure if it was a good thing or a bad one. But there was no harm in letting him try, was there? What if he succeeded?
Merek and Morla joined them for dinner. Thorfinn's family felt no ill will toward the pair, and they were not difficult to be around. Thus, the two siblings slowly became a part of Thorfinn's household. Everyone chatted about various interesting subjects, and Morla sang a few of her favorite tunes, drawing applause from the others.
Perhaps even Snow, Sunlight, and Alpha had accepted the two small creatures who sometimes played with them. Sunlight would sometimes rub against Morla's legs, and the two were quickly becoming good companions.
After dinner, upon learning that Thorfinn would be leaving soon, Morla sought him out privately...