Rebirth of a Bastard Direwolf
Summary: Jon Snow was an honorable and just man. He sought to save the remaining Free Folk from the fate of serving the Others. He choose to let them through The Wall and he paid for it with his life. His black brothers felt betrayed by his choice and had seen him killed by those he trusted. As his body bled across the white snow his spirit would live on though in a different time and a different world. Jon Snow would wake up in a time similar in appearance yet different in every way.
Chapter 1: Death and Rebirth
Castle Black
Jon could feel his life slowly ebbing away as he stared at the dark night sky. He could feel his heartbeat faintly as he tried to cling to life. Where he had gone wrong was at the forefront of his mind as his vision became blurry. He had given so much to the Watch, yet to be betrayed by his own men hurt worse than the many stab wounds he suffered. The sacrifices he made had amounted to nothing. His ability to have a wife and children, his wish to forsake his vow to join and serve Robb, his love he still held for Ygritte, being legitimized as a Stark if he decided to bend the knee to Stannis, and they all tasted of ash in his mouth for what his loyalty had rewarded him with. Jon could have had so much and more, yet he still stood by his oath to watch. He should have seen this would happen with his decision to save the remaining Free Folk.
He could faintly remember the disdain filled stares of some of his men about inviting the people who they had fought so hard against. He could hear the whispering of dissent of those same men when they looked his way. He had been so naïve to think their opinions would change as all the living needed to band together to fight off the Others. For was it not better to fight to live then condemn a people to become their undead slaves. The words of Ole Maester Aemon rang in his ears as he stared at the distant stars, "kill the boy, and let the man be born". Those words mocked his dying spirit as he felt he failed to heed them. He was still the same Jon Snow for he knew nothing.
His breathing became strained and painful as he felt his lungs fill with his lifeblood. The taste of ash had long been overtaken by the rusty, iron taste of his blood. He could feel himself fading away even as he contemplated his life. Jon felt like such a fool for he had never changed and had been taken advantage of. The honest belief in his men and his ability had seen his naivety taken advantage of at the hope of his Uncle Benjen returning. All that awaited him was nothing but the betrayal of those he considered brothers. He felt some part of his fading being filled with an innumerable amount of rage. He could feel his blood boil even as it spread across the snow dyeing it a crimson red. In the distance he could faintly hear an enraged howl as something drew closer to him and the traitors. His wolfsblood called out to the beast that drew near even though he continued to fade to the next world.
Jon could not make out what manner of beast which answered his call, but a part of him felt it was Ghost. The Direwolf he had raised as a pup and grew into his closest companion. From a weak runt of the litter his friend had become the largest surviving member of the litter. He now stood at the height of a small horse. Jon had never heard Ghost utter a sound, yet it seemed with him so close to death his direwolf forwent all stealth to reach his side. Even while dying he could count on Ghost.
Tears swelled in his steel, grey eyes even if he could only make out the blurry form of his most loyal friend. It filled his heart with hope that at least Ghost would avenge his death. He could feel himself grow heavy as his body continued to give out. He could faintly make out the screaming of his brothers as they faced the wrath of the direwolf. His vision had long since faded to colorful dots as he strained to see what was happening.
Though Jon could swear he slowly began to regain his vision. It could not be right though he was slowly dying. What was even stranger, the cold stopped bothering him and why could he see the terrified face of Ser Alistor before him. The terror stricken face of his once trainer stood before him as he breathed upon the one who orchestrated the attack on him. His rage once more filled his being as he let out a harsh howl into the night. He slowly stalked to Ser Alister, he could feel his fangs and jaw clench in anticipation. His eyes scanned the scared forms of the surrounding black brothers as he slowly stalked closer to one who hurt him. He was so engrossed in this newfound feeling of being in something which wasn't his yet ut felt right. He did not notice Olly behind his form. With a twang sound reverberating in the courtyard of Castle Black he felt something pierce his hide.
So shocked was he that he did not feel the other black brothers rush to stab at him. He felt some of the knives dripping with his blood pierce through his fur, which soon drove him into a bloodlust fueled frenzy. He was able to swipe at one of the brothers with his front paws before snapping his fanged jaw around the throat of another. Down two of his former brothers went yet there was more surrounding him. With a deep growl he continued his vengeance. Yet as some of the brothers went down so too did his body become littered with fatal wounds. Soon he was cornered back to where his body lay.
He could feel his powerful limbs tremble as he tried to stay standing. Surrounding his wounded form were the strewn and bitten bodies of the traitors. His gaze once more made it to Olly's terrified filled gaze. The boy seemed to have pissed himself as he could smell the soiled breeches of his once personal steward. His breathing grew labored as the strength he felt earlier abandoned him. Soon Jon his consciousness snap back to himself in his dying body. He grew confused though that passed as he seemed to make out the rough outline of his direwolf. Ghost stood strong even littered with wounds, yet he too soon joined Jon's prone form with a thump. He felt a like cloud of snow settle on his face. The cold was welcoming as he could not feel anything besides his death incoming.
Jon was confused at what had happened. It seemed he had become one with Ghost, yet he knew he had never done so before. Soon an inkling of what happened occurred to him. He was a warg. He was one of the few blessed by the Old God's which had the ability to change skins with an animal. Soon, with some of his fading strength Jon could only let out a desperate laugh of the absurdity of the night. He finally seemed to know now why he had such a strong connection with Ghost and sometimes dreamed of being in a direwolves skin. It seemed too weird to believe yet he did not think his own men would kill him.
With a herculean effort he moved his head to gaze onto the distant form of his friend. It seemed that while he would die here today at least he would not go alone. The limping form of Ser Alistor soon stood in front of Jon though he would not know who stood before. His vision was once again only able to perceive the outlines of things.
Ser Alistor could only growl with effort as he limped towards the prone form of the bastard and his wolf. The man bore a look of such contempt and disgust on his face as he gazed upon the solemn bastard. With vitriol filling his voice he soon addressed the remaining Black Brothers.
"Look upon our glorious Lord Commander men. The traitor bared his fangs upon us and looked where it got him. Soon to be dead like our brothers who sacrificed themselves to repel the Wildings", said Ser Alistor.
Ser Alistor soon knelt by the bastard's head and dripped the blackish, brown hair of his former leader. He could do nothing but feel disgust upon touching the man that betrayed all they were for the Wildings. He gripped his knife tightly as he raised it above his head.
"For the Watch and make sure to kill that blasted wolf", sneered Ser Alistor as he brought down his knife into the bastard's throat. At the same time Olly had released his arrow and stroke Ghost in the eye.
With one last gurgling exhale Jon Snow died that day alongside his closest companion. He had tried to do the honorable thing and save a people from a fate worse than death. For serving the Great Enemy in perpetuity was the worst fate for any man. Unknown to the traitorous black brothers who slew their Lord Commander, but Jon Snow's journey would not end with his death in the snow of his own keep.
Isle of Mann, Off the of Coast of England
The locals upon the small island which bordered the lands between Wales and Ireland called it the Isle of Mann. The isle itself was small yet it was heavily drenched in the world's mana. The inhabitants of the isle went about their lives unaware of the shifting force of magic that would bring someone to their humble home.
In a forested area of the isle a song of nature was occurring. The world was weaving a song of stone, water, and songs of animals as it brought about its miracle. For what was occurring here would not be repeated in their history. Gaia continued to sing her song which could only be described as a cascading symphony of nature. The sounds of rivers flowing, stones being broken, and the different sounds of animals calling permeated the air. As the world's magic reached a crescendo a form of a man and wolf appeared in the forest.
The man head dark blackish, brown hair and was garbed in leathers of black. His form, which was once heavily wounded, was healed fully as if he had never suffered such grievous wounds. The direwolf which was the color of the brightest snow. Its pelt and body which was just as grievously wounded was healed like its companion. Their still bodies lay upon the soft grass as the trees swayed gently as if the miracle never happened. And with a deep breath in Jon Snow returned to land of the living. His grey, steel eyes opened to the beauty of nature surrounding him.
Jon did not understand what had happened, but he was sure of one thing and that was Ghost and he had died. He could vaguely recall each stab wound he suffered and the final one. His hand shot towards his throat and could only feel unblemished skin. The pang of feeling the steel enter his throat was gone and only cool skin was felt. He stayed still shocked that he was alive. He could smell, hear, and see his surroundings. They looked nothing like Castle Black and even further from the landscape he knew from his youth. His confusion soon ended when he felt a familiar tongue lick his face. He soon turned his face towards what licked him and saw familiar crimson eyes the color of weirwood sap.
Jon could only let out a small, amused snort as the head of Ghost was pressed to his chest. With a desperate need to seek some form of comfort, his hands petted the snow white fur of his direwolf. He could feel Ghost press his form further to his as he seemed to seek more pets from Jon.
As Jon calmed down from his previously panic-induced state, he could finally take in there surrounds. Never had Jon seen a forest not filled with snow. The land around him was filled with much greenery and the trees above were the same. The grass he sat upon was the noblest of greens he had ever seen. The sounds of animal life also filled the wind with song of life. He had grown so used to the silence north of the Wall that he had forgotten the beautiful songs of birds. Here was a place untouched by the threat of the incoming Great Enemy. Had the Old God's brought him to the afterlife for such a place could not be anything else. Soon his thoughts turned to what had happened, yet he could only feel freedom more than his anger.
'I am finally free of my oaths. I am free from the traitors murmuring and scathing eyes of my brothers. I am finally free', thought Jon as he stared around at this paradise. He could only feel joy at being in such a pure place. He soon returned to the present with one final lick from his silent partner. Ghost starred right into Jon's soul and seemed to feel the same from the connection he felt between their souls.
Jon soon lifted himself from the ground though not without noticing the familiar sword to the side of Ghost. He bent down in awe as he found his sword right in front of him. The white direwolf head pommel. He slowly drew out the smoky, steel blade as he gazed at his Valyrian steel sword. With it in his grasp he felt more at peace with his current situation. He returned the sword to its sheath and buckled it to his side. With Ghost circling around him sniffing the air it seemed that all was well.
Jon, while feeling peace in the moment, could only recall the events which had occurred before his journey to this forest. The attack of the Free Folk, the death of Ygritte, the battle of Hardhome, the reveal of the Others still living and enslaving the dead, the arrival of Stannis at the Wall, letting the Free Folk pass the Wall, the betrayal of his men, and Ghost and his death. The events played back in his mind at what had befallen him and what he endured before his death. He could feel his heart pumping blood through his veins, he could hear the beautiful songs of nature, and he could see the beauty of the land before him. He did not know why he was alive or where he was. Yet he would forever remain grateful to those who saw to his recovery.
He did not know why he was here in this place, but he would enjoy this new take on life. For while night gathered, his watch had ended. It had ended with his death on the cold snow of Castle Black. He was free to take a wife, hold some land, and he could father children. He could wear a crown and win glory He had lived and died at his post. He was once the sword in the darkness. A slain watcher of the walls and had died within them. He had pledged his life and honor to the Night's Watch, for the night had come and his watch had ended.
Jon was a free man now he had lived and died to fulfill the oath he had sworn. If only it had not been in the hands of his former black brothers. He was free to do whatever his heart desired and now it desired to explore this new world. No longer constricted to protect the Wall from undead enemies he was free to live. Jon, while a part of him still yearned to return to the Wall and help fight against the dead could not help but want to rest. He would never regret what he did but he yearned to live for himself. He had sacrificed so much for the order to only be repaid with betrayal.
His eyes were soon drawn to some smoke he saw in the distance. He grew curious at what this could mean. Would he meet new people or could he be reunited with his family. For if this was the afterlife then he could surely see them. With a spring in his step, he called out to his direwolf with a sharp whistle. Ghost soon returned to the side of his owner with his tongue hanging out. Seeing his companion with such a face only brought a soft chuckle to Jon. He would see what this new world had to offer him. With a brisk pace Ghost and himself set out to see where the smoke was coming from.
Author's Note: I wanted to try writing a crossover between A Song of Ice and Fire and the Fate/Stay Night series. I recently got back in the series after a long time. I also got really interested in the series too after reading some of Fate-In-Time by Parcasious. I would really recommend checking them out since they have created a lot of great works. I wanted to try the idea of after Jon Snow dying after being betrayed by the Night's Watch and going to medieval Britain before Arturia became King Arthur. I don't know if I will update this as regularly as my other work since I just wanted to try it out. I mainly plan on focusing on my ASOIAF/GOT works more than this crossover. I wanted to try this idea out of him being there before Camelot and maybe in the Fifth Grail War being summoned as a Servant. Let me know what you guys think with a review.