Here's another update for you guys! I'm really feeling inspired after seeing Pomeii and watching Kit Harington's hot ass run all over a big screen so there may be another one later on today or tomorrow. I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing! Not even the OC's I made up in my head, because they aren't making me any $$$

A Tale of Magic and Monsters and Lords

Chapter 5. Bad Omen

Storm

It's hard to believe it has only been four days since I woke up in my bed in Chicago with the headache of the century, somehow resulting in my being misplaced in this strange land. As foreign as it is, I kind of feel at home here, and I'm learning more about it every day. Take last night, for instance, when I freaked Jon out pretty bad after discovering his brother Bran was pushed from a tower because he witnessed Queen Cersei and her twin brother Jaime doing something they really shouldn't have. I wish I could un-see what I saw, but I'm officially scarred for life. Turns out, my dream was a little behind current time, because Bran woke up from his coma almost a month ago. He can't walk, but he is okay. I did confirm Jon's suspicions that his fall wasn't an accident, too. He was angry when he left last night; not at me specifically, but at the fact that he can't leave and do something about those Lannister assholes.

I had another dream last night. I really wish I hadn't. This one felt real, like I was actually there, and there was nothing I could do to stop it; it was horrible. I watched Ned Stark, Jon's father, decapitated by a sword in front of a crowd of people, Cersei herself a witness. I've been awake for hours, but I still can't stop myself from shaking. I literally watched a man's head hacked off and couldn't peel my eyes away as his head hit the ground and rolled. My stomach lurches and I gag. I press my hand to my mouth.

Knock-knock. "Are you awake in there, young lady?" Aemon makes his usual call through the closed door before opening and sticking his head in, a wide smile on his face. I never see this man frowning in my presense, he is always so happy. His happiness is contagious. "Ah, you are. Good morning, Miss Storm. How was your sleep?"

I swallow the sour taste in my mouth and grimace as I nod my head. "Good morning, Aemon. I slept..." I trail off, not really able to lie to the old guy. I like him too much. He's like the grandfather I never had.

"Did you?" Aemon asks skeptically as he approaches the side of my bed. "You don't look as if you slept at all." He raises an old and wrinkled hand to my head, cupping his palm and sliding it across my forehead. He pulls his hand away and stares at me with a look of disbelief, as he has every morning for the past three days now. "My heavens, Storm, how can you be burning up as you are and still be as lively as you are? You should be dead!"

"What are you talking about?" I ask the crazy old man as I bat his hands away, "Stop it, Aemon. I am not dying. I'm fine! I've been fine for days." I try to get out of bed, but Aemon is stronger than he looks.

"I say you aren't fine," Aemon insists, "so stay in bed." He gives me a firm nod before adding, "Sam will be in with your breakfast soon. I have to go study my books for a remedy that may help you. Your body needs rest, Storm." He turns and shuffles out of the room, closing the door behind him.

When he's gone, I let out a long, loud sigh. I can't believe this! I am not even sick. What is wrong with this old man? I thought he was the smartest guy in this castle, but now I'm beginning to wonder if he's got a few loose screws up there. I mean, how old is he, really? I can't really be burning up that badly...I touch my forehead with the tips of my fingers to test my theory...And Aemon was right. I'm freakishly hot right now. Still, that doesn't make me sick. I am so full of energy right now I feel like I'm about to explode. I haven't left this room in over fourty-eight straight hours. I am going stir-crazy.

In spite of Aemon's request, I toss the heavy blankets off my body and hop out of bed. I begin to pace the room as I ponder what to do next. I really need to talk to Jon, but I won't be able to see him until tonight, and that's only if he isn't too busy.

Knock. Knock.

I turn to the door.

"Storm? It's me...Uh, Sam...I've got your breakfast."

I smile and skip to the door, pulling it open widely for the large young man. "Hi, Sam," I greet with a smile. "What's for breakfast?" I joke, "Wait. Let me guess. Hmm...Mush?"

Sam blushes deeply as he confirms, "Mush." He adds earnestly, "I added sugar, like you said. That is what you said you liked, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I take the bowl from him eagerly and take a bite. After swallowing, I comment, "Sam, you didn't have to do that. Thanks." It isn't like oatmeal back home, but it is a vast improvement from yesterday's mush. I dig in.

"You're welcome." He shuffles his feet and looks like he's ready to leave.

"Oh no," I ask him, not hiding my disappointment because I don't want to be left alone, "You don't have to go already, do you? What do they have you doing all the time here?"

"Oh, you know, lots of things," Sam says with a shrug, "You wouldn't want to hear about it. It's boring. I do have to go, Storm. I'm sorry. I have to meet Jon to -"

"You're going to see Jon? Right now?" I interrupt, rapid firing questions at him, "Can I come too?"

"Yes..." Sam starts to say, and then shakes his head, "No. I mean - I don't know if you should do that. You're supposed to stay in bed."

"But I need to see Jon," I say with a slight pout, "And I don't feel sick at all. I've been stuck inside for days, Sam. I just want to go out for a little while. Please? Take me with you."

Sam frowns slightly and stares at me for a long while before finally agreeing, "All right." His chubby cheeks puff out as he releases a sigh. "Wait here for a moment, though. You can't very well go out to the training yard wearing that."

Training yard? Does that mean I'll get to see Jon in action? Oh, now I'm really anxious to follow Sam, but I do as he says and stay in my room while he exits. Hopefully he'll have better luck finding me something else to wear than I've had. I can't seem to find anything in this castle. While he's gone, I wonder about what I'm going to do when I see Jon. Should I tell him about my dream? Something tells me that I shouldn't, that it will only cause him pain and conflict, but a bigger part of me thinks that it is the right thing to do. Why shouldn't he be angry if his father is in danger? Why shouldn't he want to abandon this cold, dull place in an attempt to save his family? Isn't that the right thing to do?

I don't know.

Sam returns a few moments later, his arms loaded up with strange looking black clothing and fur cloaks. Sam places the pile neatly on the end of my bed as he nervously explains how he obtained the clothes. I help him sort through the stack of extra clothes used when new boys arrive at the Wall. And no, I didn't mean to say men; boys are also sent to the Wall to pledge their lives to the brotherhood. I still don't know what the purpose of the Wall is, or why they appear to be training an army up here in the north, but it must be for something. People don't usually build insanely tall walls for nothing.

"You shouldn't wear these," Sam comments as he unfolds what look like pants, "They aren't clothes for ladies. There is nothing else here for you..."

"Sam, it's all right," I state as I examine a heavy black shirt and thick fur cloak that look right around my size, "I don't mind wearing the pants." Sam looks shocked and it causes me to laugh. "Where I'm from, girls can wear pants too. Now, turn around so I can get dressed."

Sam's eyes widen even more and he gulps audibly. "You...you want me to...what?"

I roll my eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "I want you to turn and face the wall so that I can change my clothes. Think you can handle that, big guy? No peeking allowed."

Sam nods obediently and turns around, his head staring straight at the wall which the door rests on. I hesitate, first making sure that he won't turn around, and then I tug the black pants up my legs underneath my nightgown. After that, I pull the nightgown over my head, toss it to the floor, and struggle into the undershirt that was probably made for a ten year old boy. It fits everywhere but the chest, where it is straining to contain my boobs. It's not like I have giant boobs or anything, but when something is made for boys, I guess they really don't allow any...uh...bosom room. I shrug and slide into the warm over-shirt. It fits much better, so I quickly move on to the socks and boots, and finally the heavy fur cloak that matches Sam and Jon's.

"All right," I announce, "You can turn around now."

Sam turns slowly, his eyes squeezed shut still, as if he doesn't believe that I am actually dressed.

"Sam, you can open your eyes," I chuckle, "I'm not naked."

Sam pops open one eye and then the other. He laughs nervously, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. "So you aren't," He says.

"Are we ready to go?" I wonder.

"I suppose," Sam replies, "As long as you're sure you feel up to it. I really don't know if I should-"

"I do," I promise, "Let's go." I bounce up and down on the balls of my feet, anxious to leave this room. Sam leads the way to the door, and I follow, out into the hallway and past Maestor Aemon's room we creep. After that, Sam bugs me to hurry and walk faster, because he's really late, and it is my fault. He doesn't say it's my fault, but I know that it is.

Once we get outside, I pass Sam and start to jog, egging him on to keep up with me now. "Come on, Sam, what happened? I thought you had somewhere to be? Aren't you late? Move it, soldier, move it!" I channel my inner drill sargeant, and Sam stares at me like I'm a lunatic. He does give it his best effort to keep up with me, but he is panting by the time we reach the training yard. I pat him on the back and comfort, "That's okay, Sam; you'll beat me next time."

"You..." Sam says as he catches his breath, "aren't like other girls, Storm."

I can't tell if it was meant to be an insult or a compliment, but I agree, "I know."

-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-

Before allowing Sam to join his group training, I told him not to tell anyone else I left my room. I knew it would be a distraction to the twenty boys and men who are simulating combat in the fenced yard if a girl suddenly appeared on the sidelines to watch them. Instead, I snuck around the outside of the fence until I found a nook from which I can sit and watch without being seen.

I've been here for close to an hour now, Ghost at my feet, both of us watching his master dominate the group of swordsman, much to Alliser Thorne's dismay. That ass-hat hasn't stopped criticising Jon since I arrived, and it is almost too much for me to stand by and listen to without demanding to know what Thorne could do better. From where I'm sitting, it looks like Jon is a better teacher than Thorne is, and he does it without calling the boys names and making them feel inferior. Thorne calls Jon 'Lord Snow' in this bitter, hateful tone, and I want to sic Ghost on him.

Anyways, only Ghost has noticed me here, and he found me straight away. Scared me half to death, too. The albino wolf snuck up on me, his cold nose touching my hand the only sign of his arrival. I gasped before recognizing him as Jon's and then I pat him on the head, my fingers sinking into his thick fur. "Hey, Ghost," I whispered, and he sat at my feet. He hasn't left my side since. I'm not sure if it's the fever, or Ghost's warmth keeping me toasty, but I don't feel the cold one bit.

I hear Thorne begin another rant about how the boy's aren't good enough and they're all going to die come Winter. I only catch the tail-end, but it is pretty harsh. "Soon we'll have new recruits," He's saying, "and you lot will be passed along to the Lord Commander for assignment. And they will call you 'men of the Night's Watch,' but you'd be fools to believe it. You're boys still. And come the winter, you will die...like flies."

I crane my neck to see Jon's reaction. His face is stony and unreadable. I feel Ghost let out a low growl. I pat his head soothingly. I know how he feels. I don't even know these boys very well - actually, I only really know Jon and Sam - but I feel my blood boiling with anger at Thorne for speaking to them so rudely. How does he expect them to reach their full potential if he keeps telling them they suck and they're going to die?

Alliser partners the boys off once more, and they all seem to be fighting harder this time. Still, my eyes are drawn to Jon. He is a great fighter. He disarms his partner without a problem, but I notice that because Thorne isn't looking, Jon urges his partner to pick the sword back up, and he shows him how to block the blow that Jon previously swung with his sword. He's helping out his partner. He is one of the good guys.

My heart aches for him when I am reminded of the dream I had last night. I decide that when they are finished, I will tell him we need to talk, and I'll confess to the dream. He needs to know. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe there's still something he can do to change his father's fate.

-*-*-*-A-Tale-Of-Magic-And-Monsters-And-Lords-*-*-*-

Jon Snow

Thorne tries his best to break us down, to make us feel like we are unworthy and useless, but I don't let his words bother me. He's looking for a reaction. He wants us to get angry, to fight harder, and most of all to prove him wrong. Sometimes I am unsure whether Thorne really cares at all, but there are moments when he loses his mask; maybe no one notices but me, but I know that Thorne doesn't want us to fail. He still believes in the Brothers of the Night's Watch. He also worries about one of us recruits coming in and being better than him, which might ruin the future he has planned out in his head. That's why he gets so angry when I help out the others. He wants us to succeed, but he doesn't want us to surpass his level of expertise.

Our eyes are drawn away from Thorne's at the sound of quick footfalls approaching. I'm not the only one surprised to see it is Maester Aemon. Sam's eyes drop to the dirt, and then I wonder what Storm had him do. Obviously the girl was involved in some sort of scheme. I scan the fence of the training yard and notice that Ghost isn't where I left him...

"Samwell Tarly," Maester Aemon calls out when he reaches the gate to the yard, "I need to speak with you."

My eyes return to Sam, who looks frightened now of the old man. He steps forward, but then I hear her voice, "I'm here." At first, it is quiet, but soon she steps out from the shadows of the castle, Ghost at her heels, and walks confidently towards Maester Aemon and Alliser Thorne. "I'm here, Aemon. I'm sorry if I worried you, but it's not Sam's fault." She is wearing the clothes of a recruit, but she doesn't look uncomfortable in the men's clothes; she actually looks quite comfortable.

Thorne stares at her distastefully, "Have we a new recruit?"

Storm glares back at him but says nothing.

"What did I say about getting out of bed?" Aemon demands, not unkindly, but out of concern. "Do you not want to get well?"

"I am well," Storm counters, "And I needed to get out of that room. I asked Sam to bring me with him. He didn't want to, but I convinced him it would be all right." The men start to whisper about the girl. They comment on her guts, her outfit, her hair, and her pretty face. She pretends not to hear them. "I'm sorry, Aemon. Please don't be mad. I only wanted to see Jon."

Thorne's black eyes look to me, as well as every other set of eyes in the training yard. I keep my face as neutral as possible, not wanting to be roped in as part of this scheme. Storm is trouble, I can tell. I don't know what she wants with me, but I know she's going to cause me grief. The boys are now whispering about me. I shake my head slightly and finally look to Storm. I expect her to be smiling, but she looks...sad.

"Here to see Lord Snow?" Thorne spits out sarcastically, "Oh, by all means, go right ahead. We'll wait."

Aemon gives the other man a warning, "Thorne..."

Thorne sighs out loud before announcing, "That's all for this morning. We'll meet back here again after we eat. Now go. Get out of my sight."

Storm stands by the gate with Maester Aemon and Ghost as the recruits make their way to the castle to wash up and get some food. Some speak to her as they pass, and she answers them all in that carefree way of hers. I can't figure her out, why she's here, what she wants; I just don't know what to make of her. Finally, I walk over and wait as she convinces Aemon and Sam to leave us alone to talk. Ghost sits by her feet, leaning into her hand where she is scratching him behind the ear affectionately. He seems to like her more than anyone else he's ever encountered.

"Hi," Storm says to me with a small smile once the only two left in the yard are us. The wind blows her golden brown locks behind her in a long, waving sheet. She squints her eyes from the wind, but she doesn't seem cold.

"Hi."

She chews on her lip nervously. "I have to tell you something."

I nod and then wait for her to speak, but she only opens her mouth and closes it again without saying a word. "Well..." I prompt, "What is it?"

She licks her lips now and then stares over my left shoulder as she explains, "I had another dream last night. I know you're probably sick of hearing them. I wish I could make them stop, but I can't." Her brown eyes settle on mine for a second before darting back to the horizon. "I wouldn't tell you if I didn't think it were true. I wish it wasn't..."

"Storm," I say, beginning to feel anxious, "Just tell me."

"Something terrible is going to happen to your father, Jon." She looks me in the eyes again and I see that hers are wide and afraid. Her lower lip trembles and she repeats, "Something terrible."

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-MissCarolineForbes