Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Chapter 33: Traitor

Imogen's POV

Gilly came to my room along with Little Sam. I was initially surprised to see her here after the stunt I pulled many months ago. However, she was here, along with a tray. At first, we stared at each other, unsure what to do. As she knows, I'm a warrior who holds no remorse when it comes to survival. As she saw me and Ygritte slaughter those at the brothel and Castle Black.

"Jon asked me to check your back," Gilly announced.

"Where's Maester Aemon?" I asked.

Her eyes water slightly, "He died in his sleep."

"Oh," I replied.

"He wasn't alone, though," she reassured. "Sam, Little Sam, and I were there to keep him company."

I nodded and mentally smiled, knowing my prayer to give the man a peaceful death was fulfilled. That he did not die alone or a painful death. He had his apprentice and Gilly with him. Even though he was a Crow, he honored his medicine skills to heal those in need.

Respecting the Elderly Crow, I complied with Gilly as I stripped my layers from my upper body and lay on the bed. Gilly set the tray on the stand and secured Little Sam on her back before she sat down on the bed and examined my back. Her fingers delicately traced along the scars and the inks.

"It's a shame they ruin your back," Gilly murmured. "Ruin the markings of The Children."

I only nodded, trying not to remember that painful memory.

"Your wounds are healing nicely," she added as she grabbed the canister filled with salve and applied it to the wounds.

I lay there, allowing her to do her thing while listening to Little Sam coo.

However, the silence was broken when Gilly asked, "What happened?"

I took a deep breath, "It was a massacre."

I told Gilly what happened as she continued to treat me. I told her how Tormund killed Rattleshirt, the meeting with the Chieftains, the evacuation, and then the massacre. How the avalanche of death appeared out of nowhere as the wights attacked those camped outside the Gate of Shivers. How the bodies keep piling onto the ancient gate until it could take no more. The wights attacking. Jon killed a White Walker. And the wights jumping off the cliff, chasing us down.

Most of all, the Night King.

Gilly gasped when he mentioned him. The creature that her father once worshiped to spare his daughter-wives and himself while sacrificing his sons.

"Do we have a chance?" she asked.

I sat up, took my tunic, and put it on, "I don't know."

Gilly frowned.

"Not with just the Free Folk," I said. "We need more fighters."

Gilly nodded.

Little Sam began to fuss, and Gilly adjusted him to be between us. He has grown so much since I first saw him.

"Is he close to a full year yet?" I asked.

Gilly stared at her son with a motherly smile, "Almost, I think."

Poor child, a product of incest. Craster should have been killed long ago. How did the others allow this, knowing that Craster was committing a sin in our religion? Exiling him wasn't enough. I pray the child does not have a complication and becomes nothing like the man who sired him.

"Sam claims him as his own," Gilly murmured, combing her son's locks.

I stared at her in question, "I don't get why you like the Crow."

Gilly blushed, "He's different. Kind and protect me all this time."

As she told me, Samwell protected her from the deserters, from a White Walker, and once more from his brothers. She would have gotten raped if Sam didn't come in, getting beaten up along with Ghost stepping in. She helped Sam to his private room and treated him. Although her blush deepens.

"Just treating his wounds," I teased.

Gilly blushed more.

I chuckled softly, shaking my head.

"And how was it?" I asked.

She bit her lip, "We were gentle, and I was on top."

I couldn't help but laugh, in which she giggled.

Afterward, I sighed, "Just be careful. If you need protection, I can try to make you some tansy tea."

Gilly only nodded.

I stared at Little Sam, thinking about the possibilities I could have had if the Three-Eyed-Raven hadn't taken me. Would I have been married to a member of my clan or allowed myself to be stolen? Would I have a child already? Now, all those possibilities are gone, with my fate set on defeating the Night King.

As I took Little Sam in my arms and held him. Savoring a moment of holding a baby. Gilly watched this as she gave a small smile.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon had called Sam to his chambers, needing to talk in private. The last few days, he was recovering, going over documents, yet the nightmare lingers of what happened in Hardhome.

The two sat at a table with some ale. Sam gives him a report on what happened during his absences. The final moments with Maester Aemon, as he hallucinated about his brother Aegon the Fifth and then died in his sleep. Sam gave the eulogy; however, Ser Alliser told him afterward that he was running out of friends. Other than Ghost, Gilly, and a handful of loyal brothers, Castle Black was getting dangerous. Follow by a few of their brothers attempted to rape Gilly if Sam hadn't stepped, only to be beaten to death if Ghost hadn't stepped in.

Jon took the information in, noting that Ser Alliser was definitely becoming an issue. Maybe he should have taken Stannis's suggestion and sent him to another Castle.

"What happened in Hardhome?" Sam asked.

Jon took a deep breath and told his accounts of what happened in Hardhome. From the arrival all the way down to the Night King.

"…. He raised his hands, and they all stood up at once," Jon explained, lost in that memory. "Tens of thousands of them. The biggest army in the world."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Sam asked.

"I'm gonna hope they don't learn how to climb the Wall," Jon answered, taking a gulp of ale.

"But the dragonglass…"

"No one's ever getting that back now," Jon murmured in defeat. "It wouldn't matter anyway. Not unless we had a mountain of it."

"But you killed a White Walker," Sam reminded.

"With Longclaw. I saw them shattered steel axes like they were glass." Jon said, glancing at this sword. "But Longclaw…."

"Is Valyrian steel," Sam concluded. "How many Valyrian steel swords are left in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Not enough," Jon said. "Imogen said Dark Sister killed one. Giving us two…. if Stannis fights with it."

Sam sighed, for that was a big if.

"The first Lord Commander in history to sacrifice the lives of sworn brothers to save the lives of wildlings," Jon murmured. "How does it feel to be friends with the most hated man in Castle Black?"

Sam chuckled softly, "You were friends with me when I first came here. And I wasn't winning any elections back then."

"Here's to us, then," Jon said, lifting his glass. "Long may they sneer."

Sam lifted his cup and clanked it against Jon's. Afterward, they took a sip. However, Jon noticed a concerned expression on Sam's face. One that was conflicting.

"What?" Jon asked.

"I wanted to ask you something," Sam started. "To ask something of you."

Jon adjusted himself and nodded to continue.

"Send me, Gilly, and the baby to Oldtown so I can become a maester," Sam announced.

Jon was surprised by this.

"That's what I meant to be," Sam added. "Not this."

"I need you here, Sam," Jon said, still in disbelief. "If you leave, who's left to me give advice I trust?"

Sam paused, thinking about it, "Well, there's Edd."

Jon gave him a look. Ed may be suitable for battle advice but not political.

"And Imogen," Sam added. "She is your ward, and she seems to know things."

Jon gave him a stern look. Imogen was a sensitive topic. He respects the spearwife and all she has done. But their relationship is that of survival for the realm. Let alone they get on each other's nerves since both of them are stubborn. Also, he holds so much guilt in what she went through in the last five months, from hurting Ygritte until now. If not knowing her for an entire year. She may help him understand the wildlings, but the Night's Watch is entirely a different battle in itself. Especially when most want to murder the Wildling Huntress.

Sam explains his reasoning, "I'd be more use to you as a maester. More use to everyone now that Maester Aemon is gone. The Citadel has the world's greatest library. I'll learn about history, strategy, healing. And other things, things that will help when – when they come."

Jon sighed, knowing Sam's got a point.

"If Gilly stays here, then she'll die. And the baby that she named after me will die. And I'll end up dying, too, trying to protect them." Sam said. "Which means that the last thing that I'll see is in this world will be the look in her eyes when I fail them. And I'd rather see a thousand White Walkers than see that."

Jon sighed as he took that into consideration and nodded.

Sam smiled softly, "Thank you."

However, Jon needed to lighten the mood, "You know that the Citadel will make you swear off women, too."

Sam scoffed, "Oh, they'll bloody try."

Jon noticed his friend's cheeks turning pink, "Sam."

"What?" his friend replied nervously.

"Sam," Jon repeated knowingly.

Sam couldn't help but grin.

"You had just been beaten half to death." Jon started trying to comprehend this. "How did you –"

Sam grinned like a little boy who had gotten sweets, "Oh, very carefully."

They chuckled at this.

"I'm glad the end of the world's working out well for someone," Jon murmured with a smile.

Since the last person Jon slept with was Ygritte back in the cave.

Sam, sensing Jon's sorrow, promised, "I'll come back. "

Jon raised his cup, "To your return."

Sam pressed his glass to Jon's, "To my return."

And so, they drank.

.o0o.

It would be the next day when Sam, Gilly, and Little Sam departed. Jon wrote a letter to the Citadel to inform them that he is putting in a request for the Maester's to teach Sam. Along with a temporary Maester until Sam passes his credentials.

He stood there, watching Sam helping Gilly onto the wagon with Little Sam. Sam took hold of the reins and looked over his shoulder to stare at Jon. He gave him a wave. Jon hesitantly gave a wave as well.

Deep down, Jon knew he would not see his friend again. At first, it may be years before Sam is qualified to be a Maester. However, by the time Sam returns, Jon would either die because of his position as Lord Commander or a White Walker.

It also brings awareness that Sam was injured while he was away. Even though Ghost saved him, what are the chances the men under his watch will hurt others who are loyal to him? Especially important people.

It was a tough decision, as Jon started making his way to Imogen's room. She has been cooperating since being his ward. She mainly stayed in her room. Only coming out for necessary things and avoiding others. Gilly had been giving her company, but with Gilly gone, she was alone once more.

Tormund was escorting the survivors to the Nightfort. Along with others who were his hostages, leaving Imogen here. If anything were to happen to him, his brothers would seek revenge and do the worst to her.

He remembered seeing Imogen topless, tied to a post while Ser Alliser whipped her. He shuddered at that memory. To ensure the Wildlings would fight in the Great War against the Army of the Dead, he needed to set things right.

Once at her door, he looked at the Brothers who guarded it. It was Robert and Stephon, men who had been supportive since he became Lord Commander. He nodded as he knocked on the door.

"Who is it," Imogen called out.

"It's Jon," he said.

There was a moment of silence before she said, "Come in."

He took a deep breath before entering the room. The table has a basin that was filled with murky water, along with a drench rag. He would find Imogen on her bed, dressed in her basic layers, with a carved bone comb in hand. Her hair was down, somewhat damped, clean from white paint, and no longer in braids. Also, her face was clean of war paint and charcoal. She looked entirely different. Especially with her hair down, reaching her midback in waves.

She looked beautiful.

A wild beauty just like Ygritte.

Jon mentally shook his head, for he should not be thinking like that.

"Caught me indispose," Imogen said as she got out of bed and shook her head, causing the tendrils to dance over her shoulders.

Jon was confused as she was still fully dressed.

"The Dires hardly let our hair out when we are not in Lunar Haven," she explained. "We decorate and bind it when outside as a means to be presentable if death were to claim us."

"Is that why you wear war paint?" he asked.

Imogen nodded, "For when we die, our spirits live on in a forever form."

Jon nodded, taking this information in.

"You probably think we're vain," she said with a bitter chuckle.

"You have your ways," he assured.

Imogen nodded as she adjusted her hair to the back of her head, "What is it?"

Jon took a deep breath, "I haven't heard a word from the Nightfort, and I want to be sure that the others made it."

Imogen paused, looking at him, "I can warg into Frigg to confirm it. But it has only been a few days."

Jon shook his head, "I need you to go there."

Imogen's eyes widened when hearing this, "What?"

"I'm sending you and Edd to check on the progress of the Nightfort," he explained. "And I need you to stay there until further notice."

Imogen was baffled, "I thought I was your ward."

"You are," Jon assured. "But I think you would do better there than here."

Imogen seemed cautious, "Are you sure?"

Jon nodded, "I'm sure."

She nodded, "When?"

"In a few days," he answered. "Enough time for you and Edd to prepare."

She stared at him in disbelief yet nodded, "Very well."

Jon sighed in relief, "I'll let you be."

Imogen nodded.

With nothing else to say, he left her room and started making his way to the lift. He needed to clear his head. Hopefully, being at the top of the Wall will help.

.o0o.

Sadly, his solitude was disrupted when Ser Davos appeared out of nowhere. Apparently, the man has been here a few days and waited to speak with Jon. Jon truly wanted to be alone, yet King Stannis's right-hand man appeared, telling him the conditions of Stannis's army and needed aid. Apparently, the Boltons had sent men to salvage their camps, and supplies were running low.

They took the lift down for a private conversation.

"I'm sorry, Ser Davos, but I can't send any men," Jon apologized.

Ser Davos was baffled by this as he tried to persuade Jon to lend men to aid their cause. The lift reached the bottom as Jon got out.

"Who came to your aid," Ser Davos continued, following him. "Stannis. Now he needs you."

"We don't have enough men to make any difference," Jon explained.

"The Wildlings will make a difference," Ser Davos argued.

Jon turned around, glaring at him, "The Wildlings will never fight for Stannis. I told him before."

The Wildlings are recovering from Hardhome and saving their energy for the Great War. The Wild Starks, as Jon calls them, told them they would not fight for the Iron Throne. They have no ties to the Seven Kingdoms except for the True North and lives who are in danger. If not, the fact that the Andals separated the Free Folk from everyone five thousand years ago destroyed trust.

And Jon would agree. They can't risk the Wildlings for Stannis's claim. Jon needed them for the Great War.

"You save their bloody lives," Ser Davos seethed. "If they're gonna live in the Seven Kingdoms, safe behind our Wall, they out to fight for a damn place."

"It's not their fight!" Jon snapped.

"Open the gates," a brother shouted.

This caught their attention. They were not expecting any deliveries or company over. Quickly, Jon made his way down to see who it was. Wondering if it was Lord Overton's men here to escort the hostages or even Tormund. However, the person who came in was the Red Woman riding a horse.

Something was not right, as Melisandre arrived alone with no escort or any of Stannis's men. He and Ser Davos descended as Melisandre got off her horse. The Red Woman appeared numbed as if she had gone into shock.

Jon stopped her, "Stannis?"

She turned to face him but refused to look him in the eyes.

Ser Davos moved around in front of Melisandre, placing a hand on her chest, "Shireen? The Princess?"

Slowly, Melisandre lifted her blue eyes, staring at him with shame.

The anger Ser Davos had vanished.

As Jon took it, Princess Shireen was dead, along with King Stannis.

Along with Dark Sister.

But also, Jon worried about those of Winterfell under the Boltons' rule. The men who lost their lives. Also, if Lord Overton was still alive searching for Rickon. So many questions, so many answers. And the one person who knows the truth cannot speak at the moment.

.o0o.

Jon had read some raven scrolls, hoping to get any news on what was going on in the Seven Kingdoms. Anything that can help him and his cause. However, there was nothing drastic that could be a concern. No word yet on Stannis's battle with the Boltons.

He picked up another raven scroll and was surprised to learn that Cersei Lannister was taken hostage by the Faith Militant. Jon found that comforting, suspecting Cersei had a part in his father's death and the rest of his family. Especially great joy when learning about King Joffrey's death. However, he worried since Sansa had gone missing, just like Arya.

He sighed, setting the scroll down.

Suddenly, Olly burst into his room with elation, "Lord Commander. It's one of the Wildlings you brought back. Says he knows your Uncle Benjen. Says he's still alive."

Uncle Benjen…alive, Jon thought as he stood, knocking the chair over. "Are you sure he's talking about Benjen?"

Olly nodded, "Said he was First Ranger."

Jon immediately stormed out of his chambers. It has been nearly two years since his uncle's disappearance. Only two of his men return as wights. None of the Wildlings during his travels have seen him or started killing him. So, to hear one had encountered him held hope. As Jon could use some family right now.

"Said he knows where to find him," Olly added as he followed.

Once outside, Jon spotted Ser Alliser waiting for him. Jon put on his gloves as he made his way over.

"Man says he saw your uncle at Hardhome at the last full moon." Ser Alliser reported.

"Could be lying," Jon cautioned.

"Could be," Ser Alliser agreed, leading the way. "There are ways to find out."

"Where is he?" Jon asked.

"Over here," Ser Alliser answered, leading to the tunnel entrance.

At the entrance, more men stood surrounding the person with the information. Jon could make out the furs, indicating the person was a wildling. He pushed through to meet the individual but stopped to see a makeshift wooden tombstone with a wildling fur cloak on it. Front and center, written in charcoal, was the word "Traitor."

Jon realized he had fallen into a trap.

His desperation for his uncle's return was used against him.

The numbers did not make sense since he was in Hardhome, and none of the Wildlings told him about his uncle. If Benjen Stark was in Hardhome, he would have either been killed for being a member of the Night's Watch or held hostage and used for negotiation when Jon visited.

He had no weapon on him.

No long claw or even a dagger.

No armor either.

He was exposed.

As there were a dozen men behind him.

Either he stood there to be stabbed in the back or faced the men who betrayed him. Not being a coward, Jon turned around, only to feel a sharp pain in his abdomen with Ser Alliser wielding the dagger.

Ser Alliser showed pleasure in what he could see as the man calmly said, "For the Watch."

He yanked the dagger out, twisting it to inflict more damage. Jon groaned, forcing a hand on the wound. Suddenly, Yarwyck charged in, stabbing him higher in the sternum. The pain was far worse as Jon groaned, trying to shove the man away, yet Yarwyck pulled him closer to growl in his ear, "For the Watch."

Yarwyck pulled away, causing Jon to stumble back. He glared at him for this betrayal. Except Mash came in, stabbing him too. Jon gasped, bowing his head, yet Mash was gentle as if he did not want to do this but had to. As the man murmured softly, "For the Watch."

Over and over, Jon was stabbed by the men whom he considers his brothers. Men whom he had looked up to since coming here. As each stabbed him, saying those words, "For the Watch."

His strength was leaving him as he fumbled to his knees, staring at his traitorous brothers.

The traitors separated, allowing one more person to join. As they reveal Olly. The boy was in near tears as he stepped forward with a dagger. Jon gave him a look to not do this. Trying to preserve what little innocence the boy had. This was not a kill out of self-defense or protecting a person. For if Olly did this, it would be murder.

Jon shook his head, staring at the boy to walk away.

He wished he could use words, yet blood was filling his mouth.

The boy towered over him as tears fell.

"Olly…" Jon managed to say.

Yet rage consumed the boy as he stabbed Jon in the heart. Olly yanked back roughly, carving into his flesh.

"For the Watch," Olly seethed.

Jon stared at Olly, seeing the boy was dead. Only a bitter man.

His body could not take the suffering anymore, and he fell backward, staring at the sky. Pain consumed his body as his blood seeped away, drenching the snow. Cold. Everything was turning cold as his wounds bled hot.

Was this his life?

Betrayed by his own brothers.

No…they were not his brothers.

Rob was his brother.

Bran and Rickon were his brothers.

Edd, Pyp, and Grenn were his brothers.

And Sam…Sam being his true brother in the Night's Watch.

Ghost…Ghost, too, was his brother.

He had failed. He had been unable to prepare everyone for the Great War.

Fail to protect.

As the darkness consumed him, the last thing he heard was the direwolves howling.

As the Stranger claimed him.

Thus, ends Season Five.

I know this was a bit of a Jon chapter but trust me.

Thanks for reading and please leave a review.