Warg Maiden
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
A/N: So, I made a change the Wildlings backstory. Just giving more reason why they were on the wrong side of the Wall.
Chapter 16: The Song of Exile
The Wall
Jon and Sam were on patrol at the top of the Wall, just as Alliser commanded. As usual, it was colder on top of the Wall. They were seven hundred feet in the air. Nothing was blocking the arctic winds. They wrapped themselves tightly in their cloaks, observing the Northside of the Wall. Ever since assigned on guard duty at night, Jon has been keeping a closer eye at the Haunted Forest. Mance's army should be near.
"What was she like?" Sam asked.
Jon paused, trying to describe Ygritte to Sam, "She…she had red hair."
"Oh?" Sam replied. "How big were her feet?"
"What do you want me to say?" Jon asked, baffled by Sam's sudden question.
"I want you to tell me what it was like to have someone. To be with someone. To love someone and have them love you back." Sam clarified.
Jon sighed.
"We're all gonna die a lot sooner than I'd planned. You're the closest I'll ever get to know."
This caught Jon by surprise, "So you and Gilly never?"
"No. She just had a baby." Sam explained. "…and she never offered."
"But if she had, you would have?" Jon asked. "You'd have broken your vows."
Sam paused, thinking about it, "The interesting thing is, our vows never specifically forbid intimate relations with women."
"What?" Jon asked as if he heard something crazy. The Night's Watch is supposed to be celibate.
Aren't they?
"I shall take no wife,' yes, that's in there. There's no denying that. 'I shall father no children.' It's very specific. But what do our vows have to say about other…activities are open to interpretation."
Jon snorted, "I don't think Ser Alliser cares much for interpretation."
He then stepped down from the platform and walked along the Wall. Sam was right behind him. Jon continued to think what Maester Aemon told him a year ago. How love was the death of duty. That love is a distraction. A distraction the Men of the Night's Watch didn't need. If only documentation was kept during the first Lord Commander in what their sworn duty is. Nearly eight thousand years and there have been 998 Lord Commanders. What was their sense of responsibility back then?
It brought up a conversation he had with the wildings. Well, more like him listening and the wildlings telling stories. How the wildlings used to be the Sealgairean, hunters who searched the True North of their greatest enemies while the Night's Watch guarded the Wall. Making sure only the living pass through. When he did ask what changed, Imogen looked at him, saying one word, "Andals."
Did the wildling and the Night's watch work together before the Andals? Why would the Andals change the Night's Watch? If only he could see the past.
"Anyway, there's nothing for him to interpret. We didn't," Sam added. following Jon. "So, what's it like?"
Jon tried to figure out how to explain the feeling of sex to Sam. It was not like talking to Robb or Theon of their sexual adventures. Probably because they were fucking whores, not making love to them. Also, it happened one day in the cave.
"It's …there's this person, this whole other person. And you're wrapped up in them, and they're wrapped up in you. And you… for a little…" Jon blushed tongue twisted. "…for a little while you're more than just you. You' re—I don't know. I'm not a bleeding poet."
"No, you're really not," Sam teased.
"What did I get for it? An arrow six inches from my heart," Jon sighed, facing Sam.
"There'll be arrows for all of us soon, I imagine," Sam said.
"There will," Jon agreed.
"They've already done the worst thing to me they could ever do," Sam said, still heartbroken about Gilly and Little Sam.
Jon sighed, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Go get some sleep, Sam. I'll take this watch."
Sam stared at Jon seeing his brother need some alone time. So, with a nod, Sam got on the elevator. He closed the door and pulled the lever to go down. Jon watched him go down when he saw something from the corner of his eyes. A Snowy Owl. After a closer inspection, he noticed the bird's eyes were yellow and not grey. Therefore, Frigg was not being warged right now. Not bothering in killing the bird, he went back to his position. Unaware of the second owl on the Elevator ramp.
.o0o.
Imogen's POV
It was a full moon, yet the clouds have covered the sky. We were roughly a quarter mile away from Castle Black waiting for the signal. We made camp amongst the hills taking longer. Not long after, more of the Free Folk arrived, turning our numbers to a hundred. All of us ready to take Castle Black. We all waited. The Thenn Warg scouting the area along with Frigg. If she spotted something, she could sense it. Also, sensing Skadi was near. Therefore, Mance and the army is close at hand.
We were all enjoying our last meal. I sat next to Ygritte as she continues to make more arrows. I rubbed my lip; the swelling has come down, yet it was still split. Kegs, though not a warrior, left a good mark. Ygritte mended my arm though there is no doubt it will scar. Right now, I want this to be over and have our people safe. The Wall has magic, the magic of the Children of the Forest. It is what separates the living from the dead.
As we wait, I felt a pair of eyes in our direction. It was Styr. He has been keeping a close eye on Ygritte and I. I hated him after what he did at Mole's Town. He has challenged me as a spearwife. The Thenns always think the worse in us Dires. Assuming we are not the Free Folk since our customs were close to those souths of the Wall. Only the Dires still holds onto the laws the First Men made. The laws after the victory of the Long Night. There was more; he was challenging me since I rediscovered the truth of the Free Folk.
Our ancestors were not born in the far North.
No…our ancestors were in the true North; they were called the Sealgaireans. They hunted for Wights and White Walkers for two thousand years. They were hunting our enemies, so those who lived South of the Wall could survive. Then the Andals came, did the Southerners forgotten about the Sealgairean? They sealed the eighteen tunnels and polluted the Night's Watch. They turned our real enemy into a myth, and the Sealgaireans into the threat. Calling us Wildlings. Six thousand years later, the Sealgaireans became the Free Folk. Our families separated and forgotten. But the Dires will always remember.
The Three-Eyed Raven showed me my ancestor, after the Long Night. The wolf on my neck, representing who I was, as my torc held the artwork of my ancestors' crest. Although I go by Imogen, daughter of Fenrir and Boudica. I know what my last name would have been if I was born south of the Wall.
"Did I ever tell you about her?" Tormund announced. "My Sheila?"
All eyes were on Tormund, wanting to hear the story.
Ygritte, annoyed, answered, "Yes."
I groaned, knowing what story he was talking about. His supposed affair with a bear. Ironic, that a Warg cannot mate with an animal while in animal form. Yet people are entertained that Tormund fucked a bear. If anything, the bear represents a woman who holds the spirit of a bear. Otherwise, Tormund would be dead. He has been south of the Wall before. Maybe he fucked a lady whose crest is a bear. That is the only logical concept.
"That was a night to remember," Tormund sighed in the memory. "Of course, I'd had a good bit to drink."
He chuckled along with a few men.
Tormund continued, using his hands to be dramatic, "Her fangs were sharp, but she knew how to use them. And she was nice and soft down below. No, she was no ordinary beast. Many are the man –"
"I know you never fucked a bear," Ygritte snapped, stopping her carving. "You know you never fucked a bear. Right now, I don't want to think about the bear you never fucked. Right now, all I want to think about is each one of these arrows finding its way into a crow's heart."
As she twirled the arrow and tossed it in a pile. She grabbed another one making the tip sharp.
Tormund leaned forward, looking at her, "We could be waiting here a while."
"Good," Ygritte replied. "The longer we wait, the more arrows I'll have."
I know what is going on. The moment we attack Castle Black, she will have to confront Jon. She loved him still, despite his betrayal. In the end, she has to keep her promise and kill him. Otherwise, Tormund or I will have to finish the job. Jon Snow is a risk. She also knew about the Andals. Everyone North of the Wall hated the Andals. Hated anyone who held Andal blood. They invaded our lands when there was peace between the Children, the Giants, and the First Men. They tore our sacred trees and forced our spiritual brother south of the Wall to honor their seven gods.
"They came up here to our hands and put a big wall and said it was theirs," she said. "Then they started hunting us down. This time, we're the ones doing the hunting."
Tormund and I nodded.
Styr started at Ygritte, "You got a lot to say about killing. Even more words than arrows."
"Back in those villages, I killed just as many of them as you did. More, I reckon," Ygritte reminded.
"Yes, but none of those were your crow lover," Styr countered.
"I probably killed him already," she said.
"So you said."
"And if not, the only thing left of him is gonna be his fun bits hanging around my neck."
Everyone chuckled.
However, Styr continued his insult, "More words. Know what I think you do when you see him? Serve him up a nice slice of ginger minge."
The Thenns laughed. Ygritte shot up marching over to Styr, staring down at him, "You been thinking about that ginger minge? Wondering what it tastes like?"
Styr stood up, staring down at her, "Maybe I have."
The Red tribe and the Thenns stood up in case of a fight is about to break. Ygritte not bending, glare at the Magna.
"Jon Snow is mine," she warned him, then faced everyone. "Anyone else tries to kill him, I'll have an arrow for them. "she ten faced Styr, "And not one of your bald friends is fast enough to stop me."
Needing to break the tension, I took a sip of water and began to sing:
Land of bear and land of eagle
Land that gave us birth and blessing
Land that called us ever homewards
We will go home across the mountains
o
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
This caught everyone's attention. A song that has been passed down for six thousand years. The promise our ancestors made when our brothers had forgotten about. A promise their children one day will cross the Wall. The eighteen forts that form the Wall were the mountains. As I continued to sing, everyone sat down listening to the song.
Land of freedom land of heroes
Land that gave us hope and memories
Hear our singing hear our longing
We will go home across the mountains
o
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
o
Land of sun and land of moonlight
Land that gave us joy and sorrow
Land that gave us love and laughter
We will go home across the mountains
o
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
o
When the land is there before us
We have gone home across the mountains
We will go home, we will go home
We will go home across the mountains
Silence engulfed the camp. Only the sound of the winds and the cracklings of the fires. All around the men and spearwives watched and listened. All we ever wanted was to survive and live in peace. It was time we conquered the mountain to take back was rightfully ours. We are not asking for all Seven Kingdoms. Just the North in lands we could occupy. The Wall holds the magic that prevents the Death from crossing over.
We all sat there, waiting for the signal.
I took this as an opportunity to warg into Frigg.
.o0o.
Sam's POV
Sam was going through the library trying to understand the Wildlings. Based on his experience with Gilly and Jon's encounters with Ygritte, something doesn't add up. Even Edd's accounts from his encounters with the wildlings. But at the same time, they contradict when they raid villages and towns. They were like a double edge sword. Violent but at the same peaceful.
He was going through Maester's Faull books. So far, Maester Faull has written documentation about the wildlings. But something doesn't seem right. All his words talk about the violence. The raids, pillaging, the stealing of women, and the confrontation between the Tribes and members of the Night's Watch.
"And what is it that couldn't wait until morning, Tarly?" Maester Ameon asked out of nowhere.
This startled Sam that he literally jumped form where he was. There stood Maester Aemon, his dark robes camouflaging him in the darkness. Only his pale skin and white hair stood out, reflecting what is left of the candlelight. The elderly man gave the young man a knowing smile.
"Maester Aemon," Sam greeted relieved, then paused towards the blind man. "How did you know—"
"That it was you?" Maester Aemon finished. "Who else, but Samwell Tarly would be wasting candles to read in the middle of the night?"
Point taken, Sam thought. "Let me help you."
"Oh, no need," Maester Aemon assured.
Maester Aemon walked over to a table sitting down. Sam grabbed the lantern bringing it over as he sat next to him. The Maester still having a peaceful smile on his face.
"I know my way around this library better than any other place in Castle Black," Aemon said. "Thousands of books and no eyes to read them. Old age is a wonderful source of ironies if nothing else. But you didn't answer my question. What are you reading?"
"Maester Faull," Sam answered.
"Ah, the wildlings," he said with slight disappointment. "I can assure you that the closest Maester Faull ever got to a wildling was this very library."
"But what he says about what they do, it's all true. It's exactly what the survivors of their raids report."
"Yes, imagine the stories wildlings tell about us," Aemon jest. "I'll tell you something. When Brynden Rivers was Lord Commander, he crossed paths with a wildling. The wildling did no harm, but offered him fire for warmth, a rabbit to fill his hunger, and a sip of Wildling alcohol. He did not like alcohol."
This caught Sam by surprise. Not realizing Maester Aemon was there even for the famous Bloodraven. Maester Aemon nodded with a long memory on his face.
"Love is the death of duty," Aemon said, now with a serious face. "I told that to your friend Jon Snow once. He didn't listen, and neither did you. Which is why you've abandoned your watch atop the Wall to come here and read about the terrible things that may have happened to the girl you love."
"I don't love her," Sam argued.
Maester Aemon smile, "Yes, you do."
"No," Sam countered.
"Yes, you do," he said with a wide smile.
Sam flushed, even a blind man could see he has feelings for Gilly.
"Heard it in your voice when you first brought her to me. I remember how it sound. I was in love once."
"What?" Sam asked, baffled.
Maester Aemon took offense, "You can imagine all manner of horrors befalling that poor girl and her child. It is so difficult to imagine that an old person was once, more or less, like you?"
"I'm sorry, Maester," Sam apologized. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Do you know who I was before I came here? What I could have been if I'd only said the word?" Aemon asked.
Sam paused, he knew that Maester Aemon was once Prince Aemon Targaryen, the third son of King Maekar I, a Targaryen. Not wanting to cause a rift with his two older brothers and nephew, he became a maester. To secure his loyalty for his family, Aemon chose to be a maester of Castle Black. Westeros has forgotten about him, but Aemon was the last Targaryen in Westeros by name and blood.
"Of course you do," Aemon said, then sighed. "I met many girls when I was Aemon Targaryen. A future king always does. Some of them were quite forward in their attempts to win my affections. One of them succeeded. I was very young."
"Who was she?" Sam asked.
"Ah," he replied in memory. "I could tell you everything about her. Who she was, how we met, the color of her eyes, and the shape of her nose. I can see her right in front of me. She's more real than you are. We could spend all night training tales of lost loves. Nothing makes the past a sweeter place to visit than the prospect of imminent death. Go to bed, Tarly."
As the old maester stood up, feeling his way to the candle before blowing it out. Sam nodded as he helped Maester Aemon to blow out the candles and left. Out of anyone who has dealt with heartbreak, it was indeed Maester Aemon. Sam would say Maester Aemon is the most honorable man with so many sacrifices. The last male Targaryen in Westeros. Other than his niece lost in Essos. A man who could have been a King but kept to his vows.
Sam left the library, making way to the barracks for the night. A chill went down his spine since he has forgotten his cloak back in the library. He was about to go back to get it when he heard a commotion at the gate. It was Pyp telling someone he couldn't open the gate. Seeing how he could resolve the problem; he came over to help. However, a familiar voice could be heard. A voice he thought was dead.
"Sorry, I can't open the gate for anybody. Orders." Pyp tried to speak reason.
"You don't understand," Gilly pleaded. "They killed everyone. Everyone but the children. They're out there. I saw them on my way here. They may have seen me. They may have followed me. Please."
"I'm sorry, I can't," Pyp apologized.
"If they find us out here, you don't know…"
Sam rushed over, "Pyp! Open the gate!"
Pyp turned around in a panic, "I can't."
Gilly leaned closer to the window, "Sam, is that you?"
"Yes," Sam said, coming closer then stopped.
"Thorne gave me strict orders to not open the gate," Pyp reminded.
"Oh, Pyp, open the fucking gate!" Sam barked, frustrated.
Pyp's eyes widen, for that was a first. Not wanting to deal with his friend's wrap, he closed the window and unlocked the gate.
"I never heard you curse before," Pyp commented.
"Yes, well, best get used to it," Sam grumbled.
Pyp opened the gate just enough to let Gilly enter. She stormed in, holding a bundle in her arms. Pyp quickly shut and locked the gate. Sam rushed over, taking Gilly in his arm. Little Sam crying for he had woken up with fright.
"Are you all right?" Sam asked.
Gilly panted, catching her breath while the baby fussed. From what Sam could see, there was no sign of harm to her. Her clothes seemed to be intact and no bloodstains. Other than exhaustion from her journey from Mole's Town and chill on her cheeks, she was alive and well. He then checked on Little Sam, wide eyed from waking up and cheeks red from the cold. The baby has grown as well since he last saw them.
"Shh, you're all right," Sam cooed to the little one. "Of course, you are, my brave little fella."
"It was horrible," she said.
"I'm sorry, so sorry," he apologized. "I didn't know until I got back."
"Don't let them send me away, Sam," she begged.
"Never," he assured.
"I know there's no women allowed," She cried.
Sam placed a hand on her arm, "Anyone who tries to throw you out will be having words with me. From now on, wherever you go, I go too."
Seeing Gilly and Little Sam again alive and well, will make him damn his vows. Or find a way to be there for the two. Jon, Grenn, Pyp, and Edd were his brothers, but Gilly and Little Sam were his families under the short period of time since the babe was born. Nothing can separate him. Gilly looked at him wide eye, seeing the promise.
Suddenly, the horn blared. All three adults paused since the number of horns indicates a situation. One blow for a ranger. And then another blast of the horn…. wildlings.
"Get ready!" someone yelled.
"Man the gates!"
"Ready yourselves!"
"Sam, take them to the storage room," Pyp advised.
Sam nodded, wrapping an arm around Gilly and taking her inside.
"Prepare!"
"Up on the Wall!"
.o0o.
Jon's POV
Jon stood on one of the platforms staring out to the Haunted Forest. A massive forest fire that was a mile long burned the forest. He could hear Mance's promise echoing in his ears.
When it's time, I'm going to light the biggest fire the North has ever seen.
Jon can't recall any forest fires ever happening beyond the Wall. Seeing the flames reaching for the sky. They were here. Roughly 100,000 wildlings marching south with one goal. He knew they wanted to be on the safe side of the Wall, to escape the White Walkers. Believing the Wall holds magic to protect all mankind. Although, six-thousand years of separation has left bitterness between the South and the True North. Some tribes can't be trusted.
A shriek caught his attention as Jon looked up, seeing Frigg. This time the Snowy owls' eyes were grey. He turned to Imogen. As his hand reached to grab her, the snowy owl took off. Jon cursed as he looked down, seeing people coming from the tree line along with the howl of the direwolves.
"Light them up!" a ranger bellowed. "Light them all!"
The men assigned to the top of the Wall light the torches. Jon quickly tossed his cloak and helped his brothers get the oil and pitch to the stocks. The archers securing their harness. Two men kept blowing on the horn twice every ten seconds, informing the outer post and nearby villages of a wildling attack. In the chaos, Edd and Grenn made their way up along with Alliser and Janos.
"Come on!" Grenn called to the others. "Let's get the next load."
Jon excused himself and walked over to Alliser. The Master of Arms stood there, observing the forest fire.
"That's the last of the oil, Ser Alliser," Jon reported.
"100,00, you say?" Alliser asked.
"Yes, Ser," Jon confirmed.
"You can say it if you like," Alliser said.
Jon glanced at his surprise.
"We should have sealed the tunnel while we had the chance, like you suggested," Alliser said with distaste.
"It was a difficult decision, either way, Ser," Jon politically said.
"Do you know what leadership means, Lord Snow?" Alliser asked.
Jon shook his head, which Alliser took the silence as no.
"It means that the person in charge gets second-guessed by every clever little twat with a mouth. But if he starts second-guessing himself, that's the end – for him, for the clever little twats, for everyone. This is not the end. Not for us. Not if you lot do your duty for however long it takes to beat them back. And then you get to go on hating me, and I get to go on wishing your wildling whore had finished the job."
The horn blows twice.
Jon prays that is how it goes if they win this battle.
The next chapter will be the battle. It will take some time since there are multiple scenes, and I need to figure out which characters to focus on. Also, I made a little history about the Wildlings. The Wall has been up for eight thousand years, Bran the Builder would have known people had lived on the other side of the Wall. So, I thought, the Wildlings were descended from White Walker Hunters. Their main objective is to find Wights and White Walkers and eliminate them. The Sealgaireans continued this practice for two thousand years, where both the Sealgaireans and the Night's Watch worked together. Until the Andals came, and populated Castle Black that the new crows did not know. Thus, started the rift between the Wildlings and those South of the Wall.
Sealgairean means Hunter in Gaelic. Or that is what google translator says.
We will go Home/Song of Exile if from King Arthur (2004)
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