Author's Note:

Here is my first story and its prologue. I hope you enjoy this sneak peak at what this will be, there will be also be a longer note at the end of the chapter. :)


Prologue


Jon Snow


North of the Wall

It was a constant loop that ran through his head, a single word that weighed heavier with each repetition that offered an answer which Jon couldn't accept. Why? Why had Qhorin Halfhand insisted that Jon kill him? Jon knew the answer, but it didn't serve as a worthy enough reason in his mind. The Halfhand had been a man that Jon admired, but still he killed him – killed him so that he, Jon, could survive. Except his survival wasn't a guarantee and for all he knew, he could be marching to his death. Mance Rayder had once been a brother of the Night's Watch, but now he was a wildling just like the rest; a deserter and an oath breaker. Jon doubted that there would be much room for negotiation when he'd be presented to Mance, he was no different to the rest of his brothers who had been slain. He was just another bastard son and Jon doubted that being a lord's son would make Mance want to kill him any less.

The thought of his lord father sent a pang through his chest. Eddard Stark had been a good and honourable man, a man who should not have been murdered by the boy king – better yet bastard king. While his father never showed him the same level of affection as he had his trueborn children as to not spread insult to his lady wife. He however never treated Jon poorly. In the sparse moments where they had been alone and away from Lady Catelyn's company Ned Stark had treated him like a son, a real son.

Except he never once warned Jon away from this life, never told him that the brothers he would serve with would mostly consist of rapists and murderers, not the honourable men Jon had grown hearing stories about.

None of it mattered now.

His lord father was dead.

Jon was now an oath breaker and captive of the King Beyond the Wall.

Whatever misdeeds that had been done to him and that he himself had caused no longer mattered.

He felt a pressure on his back, a discreet shove delivered by Ygritte which prompted him to look up and see that they had arrived at the campsite. His dark eyes took in all that was around him – even what stretched out beyond his line of sight. All he could see for miles were tents and more tents stretched across the snow-covered grounds. The number of Mance's army hadn't been an exaggeration like some of the brothers on the Wall thought. In fact, Jon couldn't help but conclude that this was possibly the largest army to march against the Wall yet. He kept walking, his steps slower as his eyes carefully tried to count as many wildlings as they could. If by some miracle he was to survive, and by an even greater miracle were to escape back to the Wall, he could at least bring back a number for his brothers. A number that was already fairing much higher than their own. Jon's attention however was broken by a sight he hadn't expected.

A giant.

An actual giant.

He thought that the giants had all died centuries ago, but before his eyes not only was there one but multiple carrying tree trunks in their muscled arms.

"First time you seen a giant Jon Snow?"

Jon had no words for the red-haired girl, only a meek nod as his lips remained parted and onyx eyes wide with shock.

"Well don't stare too long, they're shy," she replied with a smirk, "When they stop being shy they get angry, and when they angry I've seen 'em pound a man straight into the ground like a hammer 'nd a nail."

Her snark was accompanied with a giant using his fist to sheath a tree trunk into the frosted ground. Jon turned his head towards hers, a disbelieving glare directed at her feigned nonchalance before she walked off. Begrudgingly, he followed her as she and the others directed him further into the campsite. As they walked further into the heart of the campsite more and more wildlings stopped and stared. When it was established that he was a crow some of the wildlings began to curse at him, they're hateful eyes glared down at him as though he was the sole person responsible for their suffering. It then didn't take long for rocks and other objects to be thrown at him along with their cries of hatred.

When they reached the guarded tent that he assumed belonged to Mance, Jon schooled his expression and did his best to suppress the anxiousness he felt. It was dark inside the tent, the only light coming from the low burning fire in the middle of the space and the few candles that littered around. Inside were three men and a clocked figure that Jon couldn't distinguish. Two of the men were sitting by the fire, one – a redheaded man with a thick beard – sat eating while the other stared at Jon stoically. The last man sat away from the first two with the cloaked figure, both their heads angled low as if they'd been partaking in a private discussion before they had entered. It was the redheaded wildling who spoke first.

"I smell a crow."

"We killed his friends. Thought you'd want to question this one," Lord of Bones answered the unspoken question as to why Jon was with them.

"What do we want with a baby crow?" The redhead who Jon assumed was Mance continued to eat as he questioned.

"This baby killed Qhorin Halfhand. He wants to be one of us."

The way Ygritte spoke made it sound as if Jon should be proud of what he had done. Instead Jon felt the guilt that he couldn't show to the wildlings, the shame from killing a brother and having gone against the vows he had made. However, the news of what he had done caused Mance to place aside his food and stand, his steps slow and intimidating as he grew closer to Jon.

"That half-handed cunt killed friends of mine, friends twice your size" he stated with a calm anger to his voice that implied he didn't believe what Ygritte said.

Jon didn't flinch, instead he spoke as nonchalant as he could despite his nerves. "My father told me big men fall just as quick as little ones if you put a sword through their hearts."

Mance's attitude didn't waver, "Plenty of little men tried to put their swords through my heart and there's plenty of little skeletons buried in the woods."

There was a small pause before Mance asked, "What's your name boy?"

"Jon Snow."

Mance didn't say anything in return, instead he quirked a bushy red eyebrow at Jon while they stared at each other in silence, both standing still before Jon realised who it was that he stood before – the man who called himself King Beyond the Wall. If he was going to do what Halfhand had asked him, he needed to start pretending like he truly wanted to join them. Otherwise he wouldn't make it out of this war camp alive.

He dropped to his knee quickly and added, "Your grace."

Jon was shocked when instead of being told to rise, the tent instead was filled with deep throaty laughter that was coming from the tent's occupants.

"Your grace?" The red head questioned mockingly as he turned to face the others in the room. "Did you hear that? From now on, you'd better kneel every time I fart."

The men and Ygritte continued to laugh, even as the man who had sat furthest away strode to where they all stood.

"Stand boy," he demanded when he stopped in front of Jon, "So, you're Ned Stark's bastard. Thank you for the gift, Lord of Bones. You can leave us."

He directed his request at Ygritte as well but as she left she looked to Jon with what almost looked like encouragement, a small reassurance to his already wounded confidence.

"The girl likes you. You like her back, Snow? That why you want to join us?"

"Don't panic, boy. This isn't the damned Night's Watch where we make you swear off girls." The redhead he thought was Mance mocked.

Jon didn't have anything to say to either men, nothing that would make him look less like a fool than he already did. The hooded figure was next to rise from where they had been sitting and made their way to Jon too, but still he couldn't see the wildling's face, even as he tried to look around the men without being caught.

"This chicken eater you thought was king is Tormund Giantsbane." The dark-haired man said.

"Can't believe this pup killed the Halfhand," Tormund retorted.

A feminine laughter resounded through the small tent, the sound coming from the hooded figure. A face peered out from the hood, a delicate and pale one that belonged to a girl who looked to be the same age as him. Jon couldn't see much from the darkness in the tent, but he could tell that she was beautiful.

"He's no simple pup Tormund. This here is a wolf pup and their teeth are much sharper."

Tormund huffed but Jon's attention was with Mance Rayder who had reached to halt the girl – except she ignored his hand as though it meant nothing to her and stepped closer to Jon, her eyes locked on him with a hard and crystal-like stare. There was something chilling in her eyes, crystal orbs that held a mirth that was innocent, but beneath it all Jon could see a startling coldness that he was unprepared for. He'd never seen a woman's eyes be so cold, even Ygritte's hadn't been as stoic as this woman's. A woman, not a girl, at this distance Jon could now just make out the curves the woman had beneath her clothes.

"Besides, this wolf needs to be enlightened so that he may leave this tent not the fool you two have made him."

Tormund spoke up, "El—"

"You do not interrupt me Giantsbane," the woman said coolly with eyes that burned like fire.

She turned back to face him and Jon could admit silently that he felt more of a fool than he did before. He had been missing something important, that he could tell, but what exactly it was Jon had no idea. However, it was when the woman raised her arms and lifted the hood from her face that Jon felt his blood grow cold in his veins. Her eyes weren't simply a pale crystal, they were a vibrant violet and her hair as white as snow. There was only one known family that were born with such colours – the Targaryen's. No one else.

A smirk played on her pink lips, "The chicken eater and the old man—" a bark of laughter came from Mance, "—aren't the kings you thought they were. The King Beyond the Wall? All lies, Jon Snow. I am Elaenys Targaryen, Queen Beyond the Wall."


Author's Note:

This story I'm seriously looking forward to writing this story because I think it's always fun with GoT/ASOIAF fanfictions because there is so much you can do and do differently when it's AU, the universe is just that big.

I just wanted to write some things here for a moment so bear with me, I'm not one for doing big notes every chapter so this will be it probably;

For starters I haven't actually started writing any chapters for this yet, I have them planned but I wanted to post the prologue to get an idea of interest so don't be scared thinking that I'm going to end it here, and don't judge this too quickly just by the prologue, I promise it gets better from what I've got planned so far ;)

I want to state here that while this won't be all rainbows and sunshine because no GoT fanfiction could be completely without angst unless it was completely AU, but this story will be my slight retribution for the Starks, especially Robb and Cat. So I just wanted to say that this will be pretty pro-Stark and if that's not your piece of cake cool, but just because I love the Stark's it doesn't mean there won't be angst, because there will be.

Also the pairing is Robb and my OC but it will be sometime until they "meet" since I want to establish her character and where she falls in this game of thrones.

Please follow/favourite/review to give me an idea of interest and any suggestions you have, anything you want to see I am happy to look at and try to incorporate it into the story.

~ Mika