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She awoke in the midst of ash and snow.
Her body was bare, covered in frost and ice but the cold didn't carry the usual bite. One of the benefits of a rebirth. Inside her chest, she could feel wings stretching as the bird woke from its brief slumber. On the ground, there was a bright reddish-gold feather glimmering in the snow that melted around it.
Her knees were weak as she stood up, dusting off the ash and smoking debris from her heated body. Her pale skin was stained by streaks of soot and her hands were an ashy gray that would only go away with water. The fire had long ago ceased but the smoke was still staining the pale sky.
She was in a dense wood but through the wood, she could see a towering mountain of ice, endless in width and height. A tingling of familiarity sparks in the back of her head but she couldn’t figure out why. Not yet. She still needed more time if the feeling of cautious fluttering wings was any indicator.
She heard rustling behind her and she whipped around, her fire hair flying in the breeze. She imagined it longer and maybe it was at some point. She also gathered the feel of black, the color, and warmth of it. She hoped in time she'd remember where that particular sensation was based. Her chest shivered as the bird cawed.
The rustling from the brush grew louder and she took a step away, her bare feet crushing the frosty covered snow. Looking down, she could see her footprints in the snow shifting from tiny little bird tracks to full blown footprints. She smiled ruefully. If that was the physical growth of her feet, her mind was surely going through something much more complicated. Still need more time to remember where she was. Who she was.
The branches parted and a scruffy face came into view. No familiarity with this one and she bent down and grabbed a rock. She held it in her pale hand and smiled. She knew how to use this, she remembered that as images of bringing the rock down on flesh both human and animal flew to mind. The bird was growing quieter.
"'Ey, little one," the man with furs said, his eyes looking at her naked body in curiosity. “You lost out ‘ere?”
She tightened her grip on the rock as another followed the first. This one was female with a curved blade in her hand. The woman’s eyes brightened upon seeing her and put her blade away.
With an outreached hand she said, “We thought you’d really be dead this time when you didn’t trek back out to camp. Come on, we’ll bring you to Mance.”
That familiar sensation spiked again at the name. It was a good feeling unlike when looking at the Wall- right, that’s what it was called –which spiked trepidation in her chest. She didn’t let go of the rock but she let her hand fall to her side as she stepped forward. She didn’t touch the other two but they calmly led her, giving her a wide birth. The male dropped the furs from his shoulders to her feet and she quickly picked them up to cover her nudeness. The intense heat was slowly beginning to leave her body as the cold itched up her spin.
They didn’t walk far but during that time memories began to come back. Learning to shoot a bow and craft the arrows to go with it, using bird feathers and shaving them down to the right size. Racing through the wilderness, following tracks and setting traps, running so fast it felt like flying. Tents of animal skin and large communal fires that sang to her soul. A cave with a spring inside it warm like her.
When they reached the wildling camp, she recognized it immediately, although her memories weren’t full. Her name still evaded her and she couldn’t figure out why she felt such a pained feeling in her chest as she saw a black bird sitting on a low hanging branch. There was no physical wound but her heart hurt like it had been pierced by a blade.
Many stared as the woman and the man led her through the pelt tents, heading toward the center most one. The one that would belong to their leader. Mance Raider, her mind supplied.
The woman pulled aside the hanging skin flap of the tent and nodded her forward and once she had cross inside, the woman let the flap fall. Neither followed her in and she pulled the furs closer around her body as the cold numbed her toes. A faint beating of wings thrummed in her chest.
A man stood inside the tent, his back turned to her but she recognized the furs. She still couldn’t remember what the face would look like. Many came up but she wasn’t sure which matched. Was it a reddish beard with a wire stare and gruff laugh? Hawkeyes and a hang nose with a missing tooth? Black eyes with a sullen face that gave the briefest and most breathless smiles?
When Mance Raider did turn, the memories flooded back at full force and relief replaced the tension in her shoulders. Mance seemed to recognize her as well and nodded his head.
“Good to see you back, Ygritte.” She watched as he picked up a bow with a bundle of arrows.
Ygritte smirked as her transformation came to completion and the heat of the firebird left, leaving her cold wrapped in a loose fur. However, the joys of reincarnation were bright enough not to dampen the shit-storm that had surely happened since her death and rebirth.
Idle thoughts of a crow were hissing around her mind but she shook her head, pushing away the memories of Jon and his insistent eyes, begging her not to die…
“Good to be back.”