Hearing Lancelot's plan, Jon Snow was even more shocked.
"Is that... is that actually allowed? No way." He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.
"As the saying goes, 'A wife is good, a mistress is better, but a stolen lover is best of all.' Tyrion told me that one," Lancelot said.
"'Stealing the bride' is a popular ritual among the wildlings. Successfully stealing your bride proves you're a capable man. We can call Robb, Joffrey, and Theon over to help brainstorm," Lancelot suggested.
"Them? Lancelot, did you know that Prince Joffrey has been messing around in Winterfell's brothels with Theon lately?" Jon Snow asked.
"Really? How did I not know about this? How does he have the nerve?" Lancelot asked in surprise. He realized he hadn't seen Joffrey much over the past few days; the prince had been absent from the dinner table quite a bit.
"Which beauty has bewitched our Prince?" Lancelot asked.
"Ros. Theon goes to her place often."
"Ros? I think I heard Tyrion mention her! Come on, let's go take a look."
Lancelot and Jon Snow arrived at the brothel. It couldn't compare to the establishments in King's Landing; it had one owner and a handful of girls who operated as independent contractors.
Outside, Lancelot spotted Joffrey's sworn shield, Sandor Clegane.
"Hound, where is Joffrey?" Lancelot asked.
"Ser Lancelot, the Prince is inside. But as for which room, I couldn't say. I went to take a piss earlier. The Prince might have moved to a different spot!"
Hearing the Hound's excuse, Lancelot rolled his eyes. Was Joffrey really as wild as the Hound implied? He wasn't Podrick, after all.
Speaking of Podrick, he had recently been learning how to fight from Aguda, though he usually ended up beaten black and blue.
The wildling boy wasn't familiar with knightly combat, but as a child who grew up surviving beyond the Wall, he was a much scrappier fighter than any squire raised with noble training.
Without armor or weapons, Aguda used his fists, knees, feet, teeth, head, and shoulders—every part of his body became a weapon.
"Let's just wait here for him to come out! Jon, if you want to see the world, go on in! As for me, I was born in a brothel. I've seen everything there is to see," Lancelot said.
Jon Snow recalled then that Lancelot, like him, had once been a bastard. But Lancelot had not only reclaimed his family name but had been knighted by the King, basking in glory.
"Maybe I need to do something to make a name for myself, too. I can't let the name 'Snow' define me forever!" Jon said.
An hour later, several women walked out of the establishment. Seeing men waiting outside, they giggled.
"We're off the clock for today. If the customers have needs, please come back tomorrow!"
One particularly attractive prostitute, not very old, walked past Lancelot and deliberately poked his stomach with her fingernail.
Finally, Lancelot saw Joffrey. He really did come out of there.
"Lancelot!" Joffrey froze for a second. Then, he practically threw himself at Lancelot in a slide tackle.
"Please, Lancelot, never tell my mother! Father doesn't matter, but you absolutely cannot tell my mother."
Joffrey clasped his hands together, kneeling on the ground with zero dignity, begging Lancelot to keep his secret.
"Ahem, Joff! Losing your virginity in Winterfell... pretty exciting, huh? Are the northern girls more to your liking?" Lancelot asked.
"I heard it from Theon, and even Tyrion says the women of Winterfell are roses with thorns—Winter Roses, specifically."
The expression on Joffrey's face suggested he was savoring the memory. He licked his lips.
"Lancelot, I know you grew up in a brothel and know a lot, but Winterfell is different from King's Landing. Let's go together tomorrow! That Ros... she's really smooth..."
Lancelot shook his head.
"Young men don't need to abstain from much, but you should abstain from lust."
"Right now, we have something more important to do. Let's help Jon Snow stand tall!"
Lancelot told Joffrey about the plan to secretly help Jon "steal" Ygritte from Winterfell.
"That sounds thrilling! But where will they go for the... honeymoon?"
"Wildlings are particular. Everything they do must be witnessed by the earth and sky. They can go into the woods, the grass, a snowbank—anywhere they won't freeze to death," Lancelot explained.
Jon Snow listened, feeling a surge of heat rising in his body. If he didn't vent it soon, he felt he might explode.
---
At nightfall, Ygritte left Catelyn Tully's chambers and returned to the room she shared with Jon Snow.
The room was pitch black; no candles were lit. But Ygritte was used to the dark.
She prepared to go to bed but stepped on something. A soft object tripped her.
Ygritte reached out and felt something warm and furry.
"Ghost, is that you? What are you doing here? Where is Jon Snow?" Ygritte asked.
Ghost gently nudged Ygritte, then ran off.
Just as Ygritte was wondering what was going on, a burlap sack was thrown over her head.
She wanted to scream, but then a thought occurred to her, and she held her tongue.
She felt someone lift her up and carry her out of Winterfell. When she finally emerged from the sack, she saw Jon Snow staring straight at her.
"Ygritte, you can't run now!" he said.
"Is that so, Jon? You don't seem to understand us wildlings very well!"
Ygritte laughed softly, suddenly wriggled out of the sack, and sprinted away from Winterfell.
Jon Snow gave chase immediately.
The two of them played a game of cat and mouse—one chasing, one fleeing, like hunter and prey, though the roles could switch at any moment.
Jon Snow knew the terrain around Winterfell better than Ygritte.
He took a shortcut, cutting her off and blocking her path.
Seeing her way forward blocked, Ygritte immediately changed direction. But no matter which way she turned, Jon Snow was always there to stop her.
"Looks like I'm doomed! Jon! But do you really know wildlings?"
Ygritte suddenly stripped off her clothes and threw a punch at Jon Snow. Distracted by the "scenery" of her body, Jon was caught off guard, and Ygritte locked her legs around his throat in a scissor hold.
"Cough! Cough!" He struggled to breathe, feeling the air being squeezed out of him.
Just when Ygritte thought she had won, Jon Snow suddenly used every trick he knew, hitting just the right spots to make Ygritte's body tremble and go soft as water.
Finally, Jon carried Ygritte to a hollowed-out tree he had prepared in advance. Inside, there was a bed, blankets, and wine.
Deep in the night, from within a certain tree hollow, came the sounds of joy and heavy breathing. The sounds lingered for a long time.
In the night sky, the moon was bright, the stars were few, and magpies flew south, circling the tree three times.