The Last Wolf
Chapter one- The Night Queen
Warning crack, smut Fic. Filled with smut throughout, gender benders all just around stupid ideas.
The sky was thinly overcast, the cold grey light hanging over north of the wall. Trees grew large and close in the forest, held back the breeze and its chill making the trail a quiet sanctuary filled with aromatic fragrance of bailsman fur that belonged to Ygritte. With her, Jon had a refuge from winter's breath above, beyond the wall. Qhorin had spoken the land had a life of its own. The bastard realized that truth quickly. It seized whom it sought with his brutal environment and when it choose them they would not return.
Snow swirled around Jon's face in a constant mist. Laying near the wilding Ygritte offered him warmth from the cold he was thankful for. As her body pressed against him he told himself that keeping warm was his top property and that was all. Although Ygritte knew that wasn't actually true and exposed this several times to her enjoyment. Down below his cock stirred every night feeling her beside him, every exhale of her breath warm against him. It didn't help when wherever he went she followed. When the sky was dark and speckled with stars where he dozed she slept. At periods he delayed sleep for her to fall into slumber listening to her peaceful breath. Nothing ever presented the effect to sooth him as she did. While these thoughts remained others were clouded. Trying to clear his mind was unbreakable, the face of Qhorin could not depart him. Naught he seemed to do, it was the man he killed, a friend yet now a course laying for the crows. The voice ran through his mind oft and he could not escape it, keeping him from sleep.
Around him the wildings set camp near the Mance's foothold with a few bonfires scattered about. Close, Jon knew needed to be done. Wildings were quick to the confines of deep asleep comforting the other with their many furs. Snoring was constant and brasher than any. He himself couldn't stir the slumber he considerable required. Qhorin knew sleep was your friend deprived of your senses you could misplace your trail and freeze to death.
While in thought Ygritte let a low whimper beside him. Jon couldn't help himself as his cock felt hard as a rock. Beside him Ygritte was abysmal in sleep her back pressed closer to him for comfort. He speculated if she would ever take a crow. No. He shouldn't think such things are worth as a man of the watch. Although recently Jon realized she was the most beautiful woman he had seen. Her hair tumbled down around her face and shoulders and at times he wanted to touch it. The free folk called it kissed by fire and Jon knew they were right. Red hair was beautiful as the sun rising in the morning. But didn't. It was enough to feel her against him in the night with the dark sky.
Another hour came of sleepless night with his arms wrapped behind his head, gazing up into the speckled stars. While in thought a voice slipped to his ears, not the half' hands but a woman's. Gazing the forest he found nothing but green and snow. A voice beckoned him, encouraged him unlike anything before. Not knowing why he stood in an instant without weapon or course.
Without thought he moved forward into unknown. North of the wall was perilous for anyone, especially inexperienced. Deeper in the forest he felt the temperature drop below zero his face flush as his breath was seen before him. The snow crunching under his feet. Wrapping his cloak closer to him for warmth. A voice told him to leave, to run! Nothing was to be found here. Another voice was louder pulled him further a wanting to know, a voice he swore he heard, a voice he knew. Further he edged uncertain as the world dissipated, the trees closed in around him. Bare ice crawled up the roots and bark as far as he could perceive. a thick fog slipped from the forest coiling around Jon's body, pulling in to a darkness, unable to see a few feet before him, he stumbled. While in the mist, the shadows crawled form the mist and she came forth. Causing Jon to feel his warmth leave him and body freeze. From head to toe nothing moved, stagnate. Around him the air was thick. Looking down to his shock his feet were frozen, ice surrounding his legs up to the knee. The speech left him, he couldn't speak. While all of this happened the underbrush rustled, barely making out the silhouette of an woman. It was the sound that caught his attention a voice like something truly unsavory in life. Ahead of him she came. The darkness. The only darkness against the light. Not the night king but night Queen. He felt a stab of fear. A powerful creature of the north. The common folk's beyond the wall tales of them relate being spirits of the forest. And that was true, to an extent. The queen was obsessed with death.
The thick fog dissipated as she came forth a silent stature each step a sway with a smile upon her face. She went as if she owned this world. He was greeted to the six foot feet tall, her body pale white like recently fallen snow, with long flowing white hair that cascaded beautifully past her shoulders. Her face was gentle with soft blue eyes that any man would lose himself in. While her curvaceous body was covered in ice armor resting at the thighs. No matter how hard Jon tried, he failed to move nothing seemed to shove not a mere finger. Stationary she moved forward her hips swaying coming to him her eyes on his. Feet pressed against the snow without pressing down, the snow seemed to stay away from her body. Until she pressed forward her face mere inches from his. Raising her hand up to his cheek shooting back for a moment as a wonderers child. Than with a smile she pressed her gentle hand heavily to him causing her to coo. Once she reached him, he felt a stab of fear. All the warmth left his body, only worry, anger, bloodcurdling feverous remained. A woman. A powerful creature of the north. The common tales of her relate her being a killer of the north. And that was true, to an extent. She was obsessed with maintaining power within the forest.
He had also heard darker tales of the night queen, told in whispers by drunken night watchmen over late-night mugs of ale. Of how she could lure to them, only to consume the souls to fuel her dark powers. Jon always laughed at these stories. Now however he made not a sound.
The queen quivered its lips, the man was quite the specimen with his lean muscles and broad shoulders. The queen found herself staring at him in a way she had never looked at another male before. She found him beautiful, the prince was a man she knew and desired more than any other. Waiting for him for decades she finally spoke.
"You have decisively come Jon," Her voice was soft with a lure to it. "Finally I have the fire in my grasp and I will have plenty of fun with you, mark my word." She insisted with no doubts in her tone. While everything she ever wanted became hers no how far they ran. Without wanting to wait another decade, leaning forward she pressed her lips to his. Jon eyes grew wider. A soft tentative kiss that gave him a warmth washed over him. Soft slender lips pressed tightly to him, her eyes closed basking in the warmth that was the prince that was promised. A naughty feeling bubbling in the pit of her stomach, Jon was the man meant to kill her. Jon's eyes grew wide as the kiss washed over him feeling the ice queens hands slip around his waist pulling him closer to her. Ice pressed to his cloak. Next thing he knew the world spun in circles, colors spinning around his eyes as the kiss remained. Only she became hungrier as the kiss became more passionate. The world continued to stir mixing in the blending light. Vision blurring with trees. There was no sound no laugh, only a kiss. At last everything disappeared falling before him, noting in existence.
Warm midday light filled the room. The room was silent, not peep to be heard. Bare. Jon felt a jolt of pain rush through his veins, surging through him, pumping blood in his heart flowing. Body convulsing as he took a long needed deep breath. His upper body shot forward. Taking deep breaths, his eyes were wide nearly feeling the very death try to clutch him in his grasp. Concentration shook unable for clear thought to graze his mind. Observing, finding himself gazing over his hands. He felt sick, light headed he swallowed a lump in the back of his throat. Looking side to side rapidly he recognized the room and found himself in the wrong place, the wrong room. No snow, or ice, or trees. Somehow In a soft bed, the quarters of the castle black the residence he departed months ago. The fireplace bare and the table on the either side plain.
Nothing made sense, wrong. it was all wrong, only a moment ago north. Was it a dream? Ygritte, half hand, the woman of white and ice. Was all of it a dream? His thoughts were broken, caught someone's breath breaking him from his worries, someone he knew. Down he found Ygritte next to him on the bed. As beautiful as the day he met her with his sword near her neck. On her side asleep with her hand resting against her head. So peacefully laying there as if nothing had happened in her cloak her long hair tumbled down her body. For a moment altogether his worries dispread, she was so beautiful. Shaking his head he felt his judgments derive back to him. Jon combed his fingers through his thick hair as his mind lifted out of the fog of despair coming in focus upon seeing Ygritte.
"Ygritte." He wrapped his hand around her trying to wake her, nothing worked however. Leaning forward to his relief he felt her heart beating yet she wouldn't wake. Standing on his feet he stumbled as if he was for the first time. After a few steps gaining his stance standing straight with a deep breath. Something felt different, he felt strange, approximately deep inside him wanted to take hold. He wouldn't let it, suppressing it from surfacing. Almost a rage he never knew. Taking control of himself he stirred himself from the room. Departing he left pushing the door aside and out into the cold. The breeze against his face. A welcome breeze, hopefully greeting others.
To his dismay observing the courtyard he found nothing. No one, not a single man. Eyes scanning the castle for others up to the very towers but saw none any. Everything looked normal, not a sound to filter the silence. The snow was all that remained everything else bare not a man of the watch to be found. Where once several men stood scatted in black, no longer a ghost town.