Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

A/N: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Chapter 21: Eagle's Guidance

Imogen's POV

It has been a week since Mance Rayder's death. The Southerners knew they had crossed the line when they burned a man alive. My people were silent, yet we do not yield. None of the Chieftains have been cooperating. They knew of a plan. One Fenrir told me in private through Frigg. Orell has been going back and forth between the captives and those who left before Stannis's army arrived. The clans and tribes that headed west. Apparently, Mance ensures that Castle Black wasn't the only location to raid.

When word came of Jeor Mormont's death, a plan was made. Mance knew the Crows will have to vote for a new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. As the candidates will have to be selected, and the commanders at the three remaining Castles. No doubt, Alliser Thorne will be selected, and from what Orell told me, the commander at Shadow Castle Denis Mallister. Once Denis Mallister arrives at Castle Black, will the Free Folk attack the Shadow Castle. Eastwatch-by-the Sea is too hectic, and the frozen water making it complicated. But the Shadow Castle, based on the Wargs who have been spying, are low on men.

No doubt, my mother is out there plotting her revenge to get us. I wish I could send Frigg; except I'm using her to keep contact with Fenrir and Tormund. Skadi and Valko have been caged and guarded. There was nothing I can do but rely on Orell. The once warg, fighting strong in keeping his humanity. It amazes me how long he has been in control. Then again, he is a strong warg.

I sighed, feeling agitated. I've been held captive in this room. As much as it was a courteous from King Stannis since the flogging, the Red Woman has been keeping me away from my brothers and sisters. She thinks isolating me will have me falter, but she honestly doesn't understand the concept of warging. Mainly Maester Aemon would come in to check on my wounds, along with the big crow, Samwell, or is it Sam, the crow with two names. Gilly hasn't come in, then again, I wouldn't blame her after I threaten her life. Nor has Jon. After Mance's execution, I thought he would stop by and talk to me.

Don't get me wrong, I loathed the Crow after betraying us. I just think if I manipulate him just right, I can make him see the importance of the Free Folk's survival. All we want is to cross the Wall. Fuck, we would occupy abandon towns and villages than travel further south. We don't want politics or power. Just some land, and we will mind our own business. As if we would want to mate with a southerner.

Either way, only time can tell.

Orell landed by the window. No bars or glass were separating, so he merely stepped inside. It was night time. There were guards at the front door, and the window had no balcony being twenty feet from the ground. If I dare jump out to escape in my condition would result in a broken limb. I sat on the bed watching Orell, as he walked around, nipping at the food before spitting it out.

"Yeah, not the best food," I agreed.

He bobbed his head before flying from the table and onto the bed. He scooted over, nudging against my arm. His familiar being a massive eagle. His wingspan is almost the same length as a human. I stared at his talon feet, noting the damage they can do. His feathers being a mixture of brown, black, grey, and hints of gold and white. I petted the back of his neck, needing some comfort after what has transpired in the past few weeks. Orell noted this and made a gestured. It took me a moment to realize what he was doing, then assumed he wanted to connect. So, closing the shudders a bit, I laid down on the bed and warged inside Orell.

.o0o.

When I communicate with Orell, we both would be standing out in a field while his eagle flew around. This time, things are different. No longer were we in an field. Instead, we were in a hut. Furs all around, carved wooden poles, and mammoth tusk—a fire in the middle with a carved pot filled with a stew. There was a sense of comfort. No longer surrounded by the Southerner's architecture.

Across from the fire sat Orell.

"Well, this is different," I noted.

"I thought of doing something different," Orell said, taking a wooden spoon to stir the pot. "How is your back."

"It's sore, and flares up now and then," I said.

"I wish I ripped off that crow's hand, and eyes," Orell muttered.

I sighed, appreciating his thoughts. It was strange how close we have gotten, yet this relationship can never be—the same with Bloodraven. If Orell's vessel was still alive, I would have given him a chance. After Ygritte rejected Orell once, and the second time it was hard for him. When he came to me, with a sudden change of interest, I was cautious. Not wanting to be second best. But after having an episode, helping me get back to my senses. Later on, he offered to be there for me.

Sadly, his conscious is limited. When a warg soul is forced to be in their familiar or any animal's body, it will dwindle in time before all humanity vanished. As the human becomes the animal. It seems like any time I get close to a man in a romantic way, something happens. I might as well not take a partner.

Orell pulled out a bowl and poured some of the stew. He handed me the bowl, and I accepted and appreciated it. Even though eating food in this realm does not satisfy our physical forms stomach, it brings the illusion of comfort through the taste. Similar when smelling an herb and almost tasting it through the fragrance. I could taste the rabbit in the stew and the herbs.

"I miss wild stew," I murmured.

"Just water, meat, herbs, and mushrooms," Orell said.

I nodded, taking another bite, "Any news."

"Boudica has gathered all the wildlings in the west. The crow in charge has left. They are waiting until the new moon," Orell said.

"Good," I said. "We might have failed at Castle Black. But Shadow Castle maybe our peoples only hope."

"That is only half," he said. "Our people are still at Hardhome."

Hardhome…one of the free folk villages beyond the Wall. It was a fishing village on the sheltered bay along the shivering Sea, situated at the tip of Storrold's Point. Those who did not go west or managed to flee from Stannis. Many of the elders and families are there.

"I don't know what to say," I confessed.

Orell sighed, taking another bite from his bowl. What can we do for Hardhome? He was stuck in his eagle in order for his spirit to survive, and I was a prisoner.

"The southern king is trying to convince the Chieftains to bend the knee. Pardon us wildlings if we fight in his war," I said in distaste.

Orell shook his head.

"Before the Three-Eyed Raven tossed me out, I saw a future of our people crossing the Wall. And look where we are. Divided and without a leader. Mance is dead. The majority of the Chieftains is captured. All because of Jon Snow." I growled out. "The true war is coming, and these southern fuckers care about a damn iron chair."

"You know what they say about iron," he murmured. "Iron doesn't bend, it breaks."

I sighed, staring at the stew, "I just don't know what to do. Dark Sister is gone. Skadi is locked up, and I don't have the energy. I'm supposed to be the Wildling Huntress. I've slaughter so many wights and White Walkers. I've killed many Crows who dare harm my people or I. And now I feel useless. I don't know what I can be anymore. Ygritte's dead, a part of me, is dead."

Orell nodded, thinking about what I've said.

My spirit has been damage.

Time passed as we ate in silence. Savoring the flavors even though there is no sustenance.

"How is your control?" I asked.

Orell took a deep breath, "I still have it. Yet I've been getting sidetracked from hunting urges."

"It makes sense," I said.

"Yet I miss some human needs," he added.

I snorted from that. He merely shrugged, being blunt about it. Still, losing your human vessel and trapped in a familiar is complicated. I wouldn't know what to do if Skadi and I were bound together. Unable to fully be with Skadi since she wouldn't in control. So, seeing Orell trying to be in control with his familiar, an apex predator. Their bond is not the same as Skadi and I. When I spend too much time in Frigg, I could sense when the owl needed control. Any day now, Orell will lose control of his humanity and be an animal.

Thinking about it, I set the bowl down and move around the pit. Orell stared at me, curious about what I was doing. I got close enough, sitting next to him, before pressing my lips against his. This surprised the warg not expecting it. I pulled back, staring into his blue eyes.

"Want to enjoy what humanity we both have left?" I asked.

Orell stared at me in question, "You sure about it?"

I nodded.

He gave a small smirk before leaning for a kiss. My fingers spread along his jaw, brushing his beard. It was an awkward first kiss, but Orell didn't push me away. Instead, he wrapped an arm across my back and spread his fingers from his other hand through my thick hair. The second kiss we found our bearings, being longer. I moaned into his mouth, and the vibration hummed against his teeth. As we kissed, I could feel the tickle of his mustache that it tempted me to dash my tongue over his top lip. The tiny hairs pricked teasingly at my skim.

Warmth suffused my senses as the tender contact thrilled my system. Shivers bumps coursed my arms. The pressure of his hand finding my hips urged me to make the kiss firmer. I closed my eyes and sank into him, straddling his lap. My hands pressed against his chest, gripping the patched shirt. Orell then slid his hand up my back and eased me against his body. His tongue dashed against mine. My fingers glided up into his hair.

We pulled back to breathe, our foreheads pressed together while panting. We stared at each other to be sure if we want to continue. At this rate, the animal instinct inside us took control. When you are a warg, and joined so many times with animals, that the instincts take control. We can maintain the desire, yet we quench for feeding, fighting, and fucking. And right now, our instincts want to pleasure one another. Our fate is uncertain.

Quickly, we were stripping each other of our clothes. Fabrics of leather and wool nearly tearing until we were both naked. My fingers glided over his chest, feeling the hairs that decorated his akin, not disguising the muscles. Orell wasn't muscular like most wildings, he was on the lean side, yet toned. Orell stared at my markings, his fingers tracing along with the runes and symbols from the Children of the Forest. The shades of blacks and greys, until reaching my left breast where the rune of life was. He leaned down and kissed my breast.

I sighed, bowing my head.

Orell leaned his head back up and kissed me again. His tongue dashed across my lips, I granted him access, pressing my mouth to his and dancing our tongues together. The taste of the stew and scent of musk filled my senses. We were creatures of nature. Our bodies touching each other, arousing our senses. The cold air of the wind engulfed our heated flesh.

I pressed my hard nipples against his chest, and Orell moaned and glided his hand up to the back of my thighs and groped my ass. I nuzzled my mons against his groin, and feeling his erection starting to rise. I reached for his cock, thrusting it up from the nest of curls, and clasped it firmly. It was hot and solid. Orell groaned, bowing his head into my shoulder, sucking on a pulse. Until leaning me back some to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it, as his whiskers stimulate. My core hummed, and toes curled.

Removing my hand from his cock and rocked against him, eliciting a deep moan from him at my breast. His free hand thumbed a nipple and squeezed it, and I responded with a gasp. Already I was wet and ready. Pushing Orell straight on his back, he complied with a slight smirk. I gripped his cock and squeezed the head of it, noting the thick fold of foreskin. A few strokes up and down seemed to coax it impossibly harder. I pressed him against my clit, slicking it and sliding it lower to teased at my opening

"Imogen…" he groaned.

"Is the wolf teasing the eagle?" I murmured.

Orell growled, grasping my hips tightly, almost bruising. I chuckled; being considerate, I guided him inside me. Orell didn't hesitate and thrust upward. I gasped from the sudden intrusion. His entry being solid and hot. I rested my hands on his chest, nails digging into his flesh, causing him to hiss. We adjusted to each other for a moment.

Once we were comfortable, I started rocking my hips. Starting at a steady pace, until it increased. Every time I came down, Orell would thrust up. I panted, feeling him inside me. It has been so long, even though my body in this realm doesn't have the same complication or discomfort if this was reality. My body still a maiden. But here, there is no discomfort.

After several more thrusts, my walls began to tremble to indicate an orgasm building up. Orell sensed this as he turned us around, so he was on top. He leaned on his palm, meeting my gaze. I wrapped my legs around his waist while my hands on his back. He thrust hard and deep, striking a spot inside me that I came. Orell groaned, as my walls clenched around him until thrusting a few more times and came. Our bodies tenses then relaxed.

He pulled out and laid next to me. We were both covered in sweat. I turned to look at him as he still trying to recover. Our people don't get to be intimate when not married. Usually, most marriages are through the stealing of the bride. However, some would rather be intimate and meet others before seeking the partner.

"Feeling human?" I asked.

Orell scoffed as he turned to his side, staring at me, "You?"

"No longer stressed," I replied.

He adjusted himself, "Give Boudica time. I mean, she is your mother."

"She's one she-wolf you don't want to mess with," I agreed.

"And you have that same courage," he reminded.

I sighed, rolling onto my stomach, "Not unless the Crows or Stannis decides to execute us. Especially when Shadow Castle is going to be taken soon."

Orell sighed, knowing I was right.

We were doomed either way.

Still, Orell tried to distract me through the night. It was nice. It brought out the possibilities in what could have been if Jon hadn't killed him. Yes, Orell was older, but we Free Folk don't care about age. There is an age limit of crossing the line, yet we honestly don't care. Just as long it is not an adult and a child. Some relationships are not acceptable.

He traced his hand on the mural on my back, "What does this mean?"

"It is a vision of the future," I answer. "One the Raven saw and thought this should be the only clue I should know."

"The Three-Eyed Raven never let me see the future," I sighed, tracing the furs. "All those years under the weirwood tree, I only saw the past. The beginning of Westeros, to the wars of the Southerners."

"You had to learn about the southerners?"

"He thought I should know all the key players, the warriors involved," I sighed. "The only problem is…the future is never secured. All I know is that there's a wolf, a raven, and a dragon at a weirwood tree."

Orell nodded, tracing the part of the dragon, "I've never seen a fire-lizard."

"They are more vicious than an ice bear," I said. "Yet tamed by spoiled riders."

"Not like us," I murmured. "We live in the true north, ice runs in our veins. We fight to survive, a blessing when the gods provide food from the earth. Thousands of years, we fight to survive, and the past few hundred years, our silent enemy wakes."

"That is why you will make it," Orell assured. "You are a fighter."

"You think so?" I asked.

Orell nodded, "Just don't let that pretty face Crow get in the way."

I snorted, "As if I would have interest in Jon Snow. After everything, he has done. He is the reason we are in this mess."

Orell nodded again.

"I should have stabbed him higher," I muttered. "At least the Horn of Winter is destroyed."

"That's one thing we don't want," he agreed.

I looked at him, "Before we raided the old man, you said you were there for me. What did you mean?"

He sighed as he adjusted himself, "I was a fool to think Ygritte would take me back again. I was holding on, yet I saw you. A wild spirit who knows what we are. You know what a warg goes through. You are beautiful and fierce and wild. I just couldn't see it in time."

"You know, you would have to prove yourself to Skadi," I jest.

He snorted, "I know."

I sighed, "Sadly, we can't be."

Orell leaned over and pecked my shoulder, "I stay as long as I can."

I bit my lip, for I have been in a relationship before. Spiritual romance does not last. I've been hurt because of Bloodraven and the Three-Eyed Raven. And their betrayal has made it hard to fall in love again. My heart is frozen. The only love I have left is for my family. My parents and my brothers. Along with my familiars Skadi and Frigg. It would be a long time before I think about a companion.

"You better return to your body," he advised. "And get some rest."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"I'll still be there for you," he assured.

"You're one strange warg," I said.

Orell cradled my cheek, "The reason why I stay, is to let you know if you were in my situation, you know how long you have."

I cradle his cheek, "You deserve better."

We kissed one last time until Orell disconnected the link.

.o0o.

My soul returned to my body as I stared at Orell, who blinked a few times. The eagle adjusted as he made a nest on the bed. I genuinely appreciate Orell. If his Vessel hadn't died, I might have given Orell a chance. He understands the strains a warg goes through and his commitment to the cause. The Gods have their reason. I just pray the gods are on our side against the Others.

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