Warg Maiden
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.
Summary: She was intended to be the next Three-Eye Raven, a warg from the Dire Tribe. But she was more wolf than a raven, a hunter rather than an observer. Rejected from her true fate, Imogen must use the knowledge she has gained from the Children to stop an imminent threat: the White Walkers. However, a Crow is in the way.
Prologue
It started as a typical morning for Ser Waymar Royce. He was woken up in his cold room, where his bunkmates' snores vibrated through the room. He began praying to the New Gods to bless him on his assignment outside the confines of Castle Black. Sometimes, he wonders why he joined the Black. Ser Waymar was no prisoner nor a criminal. He'd never stolen a loaf of bread, murdered anyone, or raped a maiden. For the last two, his father, Lord Yohn Royce, would've killed him if his youngest son ever did such an atrocity that smeared the Royce's name. No, Waymar was the third son of Yohn; even with his title of knightlihood, there was barely anything he could inherit when his father met their maker. He was a skilled Warrior, trained by the best masters of arms in the Vale. Sadly, there haven't been any wars since the Greyjoy Rebellion.
So, Ser Waymar Royce decided to join the Night's Watch. When he made that decision, Lord Royce sat him down for a serious conversation, knowing the consequences of taking the Black. When one considers the Black, he can never marry, can never father children, nor own lands. A celibate life…well, not entirely celibate since the men would sneak off to Mole's Town to wet their peckers. Yet, it was an adventure. Ser Waymar needed experience, and Lord Royce knew his youngest son was an adventurer. Father and son headed North together, stopping at Winterfell as an honored guest. Although honorable when a noble takes the Black, Waymar sadly has a behavior of arrogance. Luckily, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont smacked the self-entitlement out of the young man along with Benjen Stark. The arrogance needed some work, but Waymar learned and earned his place as a Ranger. Including his birth status, which had some help with that.
By early morning in the shield hall, Ser Waymar heard talk about sightings of wildlings being spotted on the other side of the Wall. Lord Commander assigned Ser Waymar to lead a small band to scout through the Haunted Forest and give a report. A simple scouting mission. The fellow Night's Watchmen joining him were Gared and Will.
Gared was one of the few Night's Watchmen, having taken the Black since he was a boy and spent forty years as a ranger. Gared was slightly offended that Jeor chose Ser Waymar to lead the expedition. Still, his old friend assures him that Ser Waymar needed some experience and to report how the young man did. A test. Gared accepted that while muttering into his ale. The second one, the definition of a Greenhorn, was Will; although Will had four years in the Night's Watch, one year over Ser Waymar, the man was timid. Will did not volunteer to take the Black willingly. No, he was a poacher, illegally hunting in House Mallister's woods till the Lord's free-rider caught him skinning a buck. Instead of losing a hand, Will took the Black. During his first year, Will was terrified of going beyond the Wall, scared of the stories and the savagery of the wildlings.
Especially the recent accounts of the Wildling Huntress. Some of the Rangers crossed paths with a wildling who rides a massive beast of black fur. Pale skin, dark eyes, and a spear in hand. Those who encounter her receive a scar from the devilish woman as her minion pinned the men down while she took a dagger and carved a spiral on their skin.
When they got on their horses, Gared comforted Will, saying that the Huntress is only ever spotted beyond the Wall past the Haunted Forest. No one dares cross paths with her.
Therefore, they waited at the Wall's Gate, Gared and Will holding the torches while Ser Waymar was at the front. Once the gate was lifted, they entered the tunnel and traveled along the icy carved passage. The Wall was built by Bran the Builder during the age of the First Men. Commonly known as the Age of Heros. One of the world's many wonders, questioning if one man built the Wall in a single lifetime or if his descendants held the same namesake. Creating a Wall made entirely out of ice to separate Westeros from the Others. No one knows or remembers who the Others were except the Wildlings.
By the time they reached the other side, the air had become colder — Summer Snow on one side and arctic wasteland on the other. Gared and Will tossed their torches in a brazier, then waited before heading off into the Haunted Forest. Find the Wildling raiders and head back to report. An hour passed when Ser Waymar decided to split up. The two men nodded, going their separate ways.
Will continued onward, yet his horse started to become anxious. He tried comforting the animal until spotting smoke up ahead. A fire was lit. Thus, Will dismounted, taking the reins to secure the horse before crawling on his stomach along the small hill to investigate the camp. What he saw bewildered him. Instead of seeing a band of wildlings asleep or resting or, better yet, an abandoned campsite, he saw a massacre. Bodies were torn from limb to limb, and heads were mounted on small spikes. All around, the limbs were assembled to form some ancient rune design.
There was only one body who stood alive. A tall figure with dark hair wearing a black fur cloak. The individual was wearing a mask in the shape of a wolf's head. The individual knelt, trying to remove the heads from the small spikes. It was as if the person was trying to rearrange the corpses. Will couldn't figure out if the Wildling caused this monstrosity or was trying to put the deceased back together for burial. The sound of a bird caught their attention. Looking up from the trees, Will saw a Snowy Owl who was glaring at him — the individual looked at the Snowy Owl before snapping their head toward Will.
Terrified, he stood up, stumbling backward when something pressed against his back. Will jumped, turning around and seeing a poor wildling child pinned to a tree. As if somebody had the strength to lift the child and stab her into the branch. Let alone the savage in the massacre.
Disturbed and scared, Will ran as fast as he could to get Ser Waymar and Gared, knowing they would not believe him unless they saw it for themselves.
.o0o.
"What do you expect? They're savages," Ser Waymar sarcastically told Will. "One lot steals a goat from another lot. Before you know it, they're ripping each other to pieces."
"I've never seen Wildlings do a thing like this," Will exclaimed. "I never seen a thing like this, not ever in my life."
"How close did you get?" Ser Waymar asked, adjusting the saddle of his horse.
"Close as any man would," Will answered. "Especially the one wearing the wolf mask."
"It's probably the Dire tribe," Gared said. "We should head back to the Wall."
Ser Waymar faces his men, "Do the dead frighten you?"
"Our orders were to track the wildlings," Gared reminded. "We tracked them. They won't trouble us no more."
"You don't think Mormont'll ask us how they died?" Ser Waymar asked. "That one Dire killed an entire band? Get back on your horse."
Gared huffs, despising the arrogant knight while muttering under his breath.
Will came over to Ser Waymar, "Whatever did it to them could do it to us. They even killed the children."
"It's a good thing we're not children," Ser Waymar sarcastically replied. "You want to run away south, run away. Of course, they will behead you as a deserter, if I don't catch you first. Get back on your horse. I won't say it again."
Will, afraid for his life, conceded. He's unsure what is worse, Ser Waymar, the Night's Watch, the Dires, or the unknown. Unable to defy orders, he went back on his horse, leading the way. By the time they reached the area, the fire was still blazing; however, the camp was not the same as Will had left it. In fact, the camp was entirely different. There was nobody, no blood on the snow. Even the snow appeared to be untouched. All three rangers had their swords ready for nothing.
Ser Waymar turned to Will and sarcastically said, "Your dead men seem to have moved camp."
"They were here," Will mumbled in disbelief.
Gared, who thought it was a wildling trick, turned to the young man and said, "See where they went."
Will nodded, making his way back to the horses while Gared and Ser Waymar investigated the grounds to check if they could find tracks. None were unaware of a Snowy Owl watching from above. The forest was silent, except for the echoing noises of animals.
Gared knelt, tossing over small piles of snow, hoping to find something. In one pile, he found a torn scarf that was red. Gared found it strange since Wildlings don't know how to produce dyes and colors, relying on the fabrics that animals' furs and skins could provide. So, where in the Seven Kingdoms would a red scarf be doing up here. Thus, he picked it up, only to discover the scarf was not red because of dyes…no…it was stained with blood.
Ser Waymar turned around from the tree where the fire was and noticed the red scarf, "What is it?"
Little did the knight know that the massive pile of snow near the fire began to rise. Taking the form of a massively tall man with pale skin that seemed to be carved from ice and vibrant blue eyes. Gared, who knelt there, saw this, seeing a creature like no other. He gasped, lost for words. Ser Waymar, confused, turned around only to be met by a sword made of ice slicing through his upper body. Before he could comprehend what had happened, his upper body slid off from his lower body onto the ground. Gared screamed in horror, standing up to run away.
Meanwhile, Will, once he reached the horses, thought he saw someone hiding behind the trees. He also noticed a trail of footprints. Curious, he followed the person, staying quiet, thinking the individual was oblivious to his presence. It wasn't until he heard a scream followed by the horses neighing in distress that two of the three horses started charging away, almost trampling him.
Will got back up, wiping the snow off his cloak, when he spotted the little girl from before standing there with her back to him. She turned around slowly, opening her eyes, revealing them to be icy blue. Impossible, yet she stood there with a hole in her chest. Terrified, Will started to run. He was running for his life while hearing a snarling echo amongst the trees. He saw a figure up ahead and stopped, realizing it was Gared.
Gared stopped spotting Will, only to make a mistake as the White Walker that killed Ser Waymar grabbed him by the head and decapitated him with the ice sword. Will stood in horror, watching the monster holding Gared's head as his body fell. The White Walker made a cackling noise, turning to address Will and marching towards him. Frozen with fear, Will could not move, just as the White Walker tossed the head onto his feet.
It happened so fast, but the person with the wolf mask appeared out from the trees, landing between them. The person drew their spear as the spearhead was massive. The spearhead was not made of iron like most Wildling weapons. Instead, it was made of stone, resembling black glass…obsidian. The White Walker stepped back, making a chittering noise.
"Run," the person said, sounding female.
"Wha—" He couldn't say the words.
"Run!" She shouted. "Run! Tell them what you saw!"
The White Walker suddenly charged at them. The Wildling twirled her spear on the defensive as both crystal blades collided. A clashing sound echoed off the two gems as if their center cores were trying to determine their opponent's origin.
"Run, you fool!" She yelled again, trying to keep the White Walker back.
Will, still in shock, got up and ran.
He did not look back as he heard the sound of a duel behind him. He did not turn around when he heard cries of agony and pain. But most of all, he did not turn around when he heard an inhuman shriek and shattering.
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