Warg Maiden!

Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones


Chapter 8: Three Arrows

Jon got a day's lead from the Wildlings. He felt terrible for abandoning Ygritte after all she had done for him. Yet, Jon thought it was best to leave her so Tormund and the others wouldn't hurt her. The last thing he wants is for Ygritte to be considered a traitor amongst her kind. He hopes his running away will not alter the Wildlings' plans. All he needs to do is get to Castle Black, warn the others, and prepare for an attack.

However, there was something off as Jon examined Longclaw. When the Valyrian sword collided with Dark Sister, both blades made sparks. The only time he saw blades making sparks like that was at a blacksmith forging weapons. Then again, Valyrian steel is still a mystery to this day. No one knows how Valyrian steel is forged, as the knowledge vanished during the Doom of Valyria. Barely a handful of blacksmiths worldwide know how to reforge Valyrian steel. Let alone the fact that sharpening the blade takes a lot of patience. Jon thought about his father, Ned Stark, sitting in the godswood to sharpen Ice. He was always careful to never cut himself.

Besides the Valyrian steel, he noticed Imogen didn't warg his horse or even the eagle chasing after him. So, he rode hard. Seeing how Imogen fights, if she is still alive from those wolves, she will be challenged to defeat. She fought like someone who lived in a Keep, not in the True North. She was trained with a sword, but who would teach a wildling?

Also, where did those wolves come from? They were bigger than ordinary wolves…direwolves. A part of him would have guessed that they were Summer and Shaggydog since Lady, Nymeria, and Greywind were far south. Did those two leave Winterfell to hunt? Why are they this far North away from Bran and Rickon? Something was wrong, and he needed to get to Castle Black to figure out what was happening. If not, tell them about Mance Rayder's plan.

Sighing, Jon let the horse rest before walking to a small pond to get water and wash the blood off him. He cupped his hands, drinking as much as possible before refilling his waterskin. Afterward, he started washing the blood off. As he did this, he tried to calculate how long of a journey he had. He told the wildings that they were a week from Castle Black when, in truth, he had been leading them away from the trails and roads, buying them some time. So, he guessed he would probably have three days if he rode at a hard pace.

The wound stings, causing him to wince. That was when he heard a sharp sound of pulling, which is the sound of an arrow being drawn. The horse neighed, sensing an intruder. Jon had two thoughts about who was pulling a string: a Northerner Hunter mistaking him as a wildling or Ygritte. A part of him genuinely wishes for the former.

Jon turned around and saw Ygritte standing there with her bow raised and an arrow nocked, aiming at him. She held a neutral expression, yet her vibrant blue eyes were livid. He wonders how she found him until spotting Frigg perched on a branch above her by a lone tree. The snowy owl's eyes were yellow, indicating the bird was not warged. Yet the intelligent creature's eyes narrowed at him with the same hate as the Spearwife.

Cautiously, Jon stood up.

He won't lie. He cares for Ygritte. In fact, he was falling in love with her. She was his first, showing him there is more to life than honor. However, he made a sacred vow as a brother of the Night's Watch. So, he, too, was conflicted about what he wanted.

"Ygritte, you know I didn't have a choice," Jon said.

Ygritte merely stared at him.

"You always knew who I was, what I am," he implored. "I have to go home now."

She faltered briefly, yet her bow arm remained aimed and ready.

"I know you won't hurt me," he said.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow," Ygritte seethed.

Jon scoffed with a smile, staring into the gray sky, then back to her, "I do know some things. I know I love you."

Ygritte sobbed, correcting her form.

"I know you love me," he continued. "But I have to go home now."

Her lips quivered as she stared at the only man who treated her like a woman and, at the same time, a warrior. And yet, he betrayed her. She can't let him leave and ruin the plan. The Free Folk must get south of the Wall before the Others take them. She doesn't want her tribe and all the other tribes to become a Wight. So, does she sacrifice her happiness for the good of her people or let him live?

Tormund and Imogen expect her to kill him. Her best friend knows the secret, giving Ygritte a chance to convert Jon to their way of life. Now Jon has made his choice. Even if he does love her, he will always be a Crow. And a Crow takes.

Knowing she wouldn't shoot, Jon turned around and walked back to his horse. Only it was his mistake, as Ygritte fired, shooting an arrow into his back. The shock of pain ran through his spine, knocking him down, and he cried out. Ygritte quickly nocked another arrow. Knowing it would take two shots, Jon forced himself up and on the horse. Sadly, Ygritte shoots him in the thigh, which he groans in pain. Not having a second to waste, he orders the horse to run.

Ygritte aimed another arrow, watching him flee. She wanted him dead, and she wanted him to live. Thus, she let go of the string, allowing the Old Gods to decide. As she witnesses, the arrow impacts him from the back, along with his cry of pain. She cried, standing there, watching him get away. She put three arrows into him. Three arrows in places that could kill him if not adequately treated. Only the gods can decide on her behalf.

Frigg gave a hoot, jumping up and flying onto her shoulder. The intelligent bird nuzzled her head, comforting the spearwife. Ygritte sobbed, petting Frigg for comfort.

.o0o.

Imogen's POV

I sighed after we burned our fallen brothers and buried the Breeder a few days ago. Tormund was not pleased, but I kept reminding him that the Breeder accepted death. It's the courteous thing we could do for him. Tormund laughed in my face yet conceded as he got some men to form a grave.

"You Dires and your honor for the dead," Tormund said. "I'll give Grandpa credit."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"You forget, Dires are one of the oldest tribes since the Age of Heroes." I reminded him.

Tormund barked a laugh, smacking me hard on the back before leaving. I sighed, shaking my head before looking at Orell on the wagon. I walked over to him and petted the top of the eagle's head. Orell leaned into my touch, enjoying the comfort. It has been a few days since Jon's betrayal. So far, Orell has been himself, or at least some of his personality was still showing.

I remember our conversation before he was killed — the open invitation to a relationship after Ygritte's rejection. I'll give him credit for communicating it with me instead of trying to steal me. Despite being second best, Orell understands the strains of being a warg and understands the pain we go through for our kind. The blood of the First Men lingers in our veins, giving us the abilities. Maybe, after some time, I would have opened up to Orell. But that chance is now gone. Any day now, Orell will lose his humanity and become a wild eagle.

Hopefully, Ygritte can deal with Jon Snow. I would have had the opportunity to kill him if it weren't for the damn direwolves. Bran Stark is strong; there are not many strong wargs. One out of ten wargs can control two animals. Wargs are not a large population, except for the majority of the Dire Tribe. Still, he needs to be careful in the decision he is about to make with the Three-Eyed Raven. If Bran completes the trials…he will no longer be Bran but the Three-Eyed Raven's vessel. I pray to the Old Gods the rune I gave him will protect him if it dares come to that.

One way to piss off the deity.

Frigg suddenly appeared, landing next to Orell.

I turned around, seeing Ygritte returning on her horse. She got off and stood there. Tormund saw her, about to walk over, but I stopped him, gesturing him not to approach. I took a deep breath and walked to Ygritte to see what was wrong. She looked up at me, expressing her pain silently in her eyes. I did not need to ask as she did something she rarely did, and that was hugging me. She held on tight. I was startled before wrapping my arms around her. No words need to be said.

After several moments, Tormund came over.

"Is he dead?" Tormund asked.

"I put three arrows in him," Ygritte answered.

"So, he's dead?" Tormund repeated.

Ygritte only nodded, not looking at him.

However, knowing Ygritte, she would look Tormund in the eye when telling the truth, especially about a kill. Something told me there was a chance that Jon Snow was still alive. It only takes one arrow to kill someone. Three arrows mean pain and torture. If Jon doesn't die from blood loss, then he is most likely still alive.

.o0o.

Castle Black

A brother of the Night's Watch noticed a rider approaching the front gate. He cannot tell who it is, only that the horse is exhausted and the rider has three arrows in him. He calls out for the rider to stop, to halt, yet he does not respond. That is until the horse stopped, and the rider fell off, snapping the arrows deeper into him. Therefore, the guard rushes down, ordering his brothers to open the gate.

Three men rushed out; one collected the horse while the other two grabbed the injured rider in wildling fur. One realized the rider was none other than Jon Snow, shouting out to get the Maester. They each grabbed one of Jon's arms before dragging him inside for safety.

Sam and Pyp heard Jon return, rushing outside to see the two men set Jon on the ground. Jon groaned; his body felt numb except for the areas where the arrows struck. The taste of blood lingers in his mouth.

At first, he saw the gray sky until Sam and Pyp came into view, hovering over him.

"Jon! Jon!" Sam called out. "Jon, it's us."

"I don't think he can see us," Pyp suggested.

Jon recognized his voice, turned his head to stare at his friend, and mumbled, "Pyp?"

This made Pyp and Sam smile.

"Sam?" Jon whispered.

"Hush, now. You're home," Sam assured. "Carry him inside. Gently."

Four men gathered around, grabbed each of his limbs, and carried him inside. There was more to say; he needed to tell the council about Mance Rayder and the Wildlings and warn them about those who had already climbed over the Wall. In the end, Jon's body was so exhausted that he blacked out before he could utter another word.


I know this is a short chapter.

Thus, ends Season 3

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