Warg Maiden
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Welcome to Season 4
Chapter 9: Disagreements
Ygritte's POV
Ygritte sat across from Imogen, who was warging with Frigg and Orell at the moment. The Fiery Spearwife stared at Imogen, seeing her crossed-legged, almost in her general direction, eyes white. Ygritte sometimes wonders what it is like to be a Warg. There were times she would get jealous of Wargs, especially those bonded with birds. Yet she knows better since Wargs have laws they must obey and the consequences. There are two sacred laws the Free Folk of Wargs must abide by. One is to never mate with an animal in their familiar or any animal. But the most crucial rule is never to warg inside a human. One can never take another man's freedom.
Thinking about the Wargs was one of her distractions. Ygritte tried hard to not think about Jon Snow. She put three arrows in him, enough to kill someone. However, a part of her knew he was still alive. She just had this feeling. That specific feeling makes her angrier; thus, she distracts herself by making more arrows.
It has been a few weeks since Jon abandoned her.
Her comrades noted her bitterness. The only people who dared approach her were Tormund and Imogen. Ygritte hardly talked to Tormund and accepted Imogen's presence. They barely spoke, but Imogen's presence alone was comforting. She was thankful to have Imogen. The Warg Maiden was giving her a chance with Jon despite knowing the truth. Converting Jon to their way of life was dangerous, even though it failed. Now, she will focus on the plan.
If the legends are true about the Wall, then she and the Free Folk need to go south. The Wall was their only way to escape the White Walkers. Already being south, she could feel the atmosphere much lighter. Not too much tension. Well, if you count the attack on the Crows. They've been waiting to get Mance Rayder's orders on the attack for Castle Black.
The sound of footsteps caught her attention as she trimmed the feathers of her arrows. She glanced up, seeing it was Tormund. Rolling her eyes, she went back to her arrows.
"You plan on killing all the crows yourself?" Tormund asked.
"Do you plan on sitting here scratching your balls till winter?" Ygritte countered.
"We wait for Mance's orders," Tormund reminded.
"You sent a man over the Wall at the full moon," Ygritte said. "If he's not back yet, he's not coming back."
"And what is it you want?" Tormund asked. "March on Castle Black with just this lot? Your pretty crow said a thousand men are nesting there."
"Yeah, well, he's a liar," She snapped.
"He is?" Tormund noted. "Shouldn't it be 'he was?"
Ygritte kept a neutral face.
"You said you put three arrows in him," Tormund recalled.
"I did," She hissed.
"I've seen you slip a shaft through a rabbit's eye at two-hundred yards. If that boy's still walking, it's 'cause you let him go." He warned her.
Imogen's eyes return to gray, followed by a gasp as her soul returns to her vessel. All eyes were on her as she took a deep breath.
"What did you see?" Tormund asked her.
"We got company," Imogen answered.
"Who?" Tormund asked.
"Thenns on the south side," Imogen answered.
Everyone says all the Free Folk hated the Cave dwellers, being so isolated from everyone else. But if you think about it, the clans on the surface hated the most were the Thenns. The biggest rivalry is between the Dires and the Thenns. The reason being the specifics in moral code and combat. However, the main general for the Free Folk towards the Thenns was their self-scarification and cannibalism. Spearwives fight hard not to be taken by Thenns, for no one wants to be their wife.
The three got up and went towards the direction where the Thenns were coming. Tormund stood in front of the girls, knowing the Thenns would take an interest in them. A large group of bald men entered. Dried blood stains covered their fur coats. Their faces were pale to the point of gray, while scars marred their skin as if they were painted. Ygritte glanced at Imogen, seeing the contrast of the white paint in her dark hair and the black charcoal around her eyes.
"Thenns," Tormund muttered. "I fucking hate Thenns."
Imogen nodded in agreement.
The leader of the group was none other than Styr, Magnar of the Thenn, the chieftain. Ygritte could sense the tension as Styr glanced at Imogen. Who was a Magnar's daughter. If all were born south of the Wall, Styr would be a Lord since Magnar in Old Tongue means Lord.
"Mance sent you?" Tormund asked, breaking the tension.
Styr grunted. The man can speak both the Common Tongue and the Old Tongue.
"How did you find us?" Tormund asked.
Styr gestured to his Warg.
"You came from the south, not the North," Tormund noted.
"Took a detour," Styr finally spoke. "Got some supper from a village down that way. Why does the meat down here taste so much better than it does on our side of the Wall?"
"Help yourself," Tormund gestured to the rabbit that was being cooked.
Styr's chuckled from this, "Maybe everything's just better fed down here. Fat and lazy. Easier for us, hmm?"
The Thenn moved around, petting Tormund on the shoulder to join his men. Ygritte held her disgust as she turned around to see the real savages remove their game off the fire skewer, tossing the rabbits aside to replace them with their own meat.
"You didn't see us coming?" Styr noted. "Lost your warg?"
"Orell is dead, but I am here," Imogen replied sternly.
Styr scoffed, "And the baby crow you had with you lost him too?"
Tormund stopped Styr and glared at him, "I'll answer to Mance, I won't answer to you."
"She yours?" Styr asked, nodding his head to Ygritte.
"I'm not anybody's," Ygritte replied.
Styr walked over to her, except Ygritte, who still had her bow nocked and ready, aimed it at the Magner's face. The Thenns drew their short blades while the Free-Folk drew theirs. Styr glanced at the arrowhead before looking at Ygritte, who showed no sign of hesitation. Tormund gave Ygritte a cautious look until Styr scoffed.
"Too scrawny," the Magnar murmured. "Not like those crows at Castle Black. Think of them stuck in their larders stuffing their faces with ham and blood sausage, and stew, getting nice and fat and marbled."
He stepped away from Tormund as he marveled about the Night Watch's diet. Meanwhile, Tormund gestured for Ygritte to lower her bow. She complied but ever so slowly.
"I know we've had our differences, Tormund," Styr murmured, walking over to the campfire. "But just one time before you die, you really ought to try crow."
There on a skewer was an arm being roasted on an open fire.
Imogen clenched her hands. Ygritte can sense the same disgust as many others. Even if they hate the Crows, they won't dare eat the flesh of their fallen enemies. The only thing they will do is take their weapons and supplies. Tormund gave the girls a silent warning to stick together.
.o0o.
Jon's POV
Jon finally recovered from his injuries thanks to Maester Aemon and Sam. His body was still sore, but he preferred a sore body rather than a dead one. He could only thank the Gods for Ygritte missing. Sam came in as he was woken up, tending his wounds and giving him the news. It broke Jon's heart to learn his brother Robb was dead, along with his wife Talisa and Lady Catelyn. Even when Lady Catelyn treated him poorly, he knew no woman should be murdered.
Jon's heart sinks even more when told of what happened in Winterfell, how Theon betrayed the Starks, killing Rodrick and Maester Luwin. The worst is Bran and Rickon. Both were slaughtered by the Ironborn, their bodies burned, and hanged at the castle's gate. Let alone news that Jeor Mormont was dead. The man who was like a second father to him.
It took days for him to grasp the news that his family was dead. Ned, Catelyn, Robb, Bran, and Rickon. Arya's whereabouts are still unknown, while Sansa…Sansa was forced to wed Tyrion Lannister. Jon's home was gone. His original family was dead or taken. The Night's Watch was his family now, yet the family he was raised in by blood will always be in his heart. Therefore, his heartache.
As he dressed, he told Sam about Robb.
"Last time I saw him, he was in the courtyard at Winterfell," Jon murmured as he dressed. "He said, 'Next time I see you, you'll be all in black.' I was jealous of Robb my whole life."
A shot of pain from his back arched. He hissed and winced as if being stabbed.
"The way my father looked at him, I wanted that. He was better than me at everything – fighting and hunting, and riding and girls. Gods, the girls loved him. I wanted to hate him, but I never could."
"Sometimes I want to hate you," Sam whispered.
Jon turned around, surprised by this. Since Sam was born into a noble family, he was not a bastard. He had a name. Then Jon remembered Sam's backstory, in how Lord Randyll Tarly treated his eldest. It brought back memories with Tyrion, how all dwarves are bastards in their fathers' eyes. The same is true for sons who don't meet their fathers' radical high expectations.
"Well, you're better than me at everything," Sam continued. "Except reading."
Jon snorted, knowing that was true. Despite having a proper education in reading and writing, Jon barely has the patience. He can't remember the last time he read a book from cover to cover and enjoyed it.
"They're—they're ready for you," Sam added nervously.
Jon hesitated as he reached over to grab his armor vest; meanwhile, Sam handed him Longclaw.
"He's wanted to hang me for a while," JOn muttered. "Now's his chance."
"No one's going to hang you," Sam assured. "You've done nothing wrong."
"I've done plenty wrong," Jon murmured.
Ser Alliser Thorne despised Jon with a passion. Either because he was a bastard or because he was the son of Ned Stark. Even to this day, some men have supported the Targaryens in the Wall, who hold a vendetta against the children of King Robert's supporters. With Jeor Mormont dead, Ser Alliser was acting Lord Commander until the voting began, once the Council in all three active castles was assembled. Things are only worse with the new addition to the Castle, which no one is pleased about. Other than Maester Aemon, the other positions in Castle Black Council had to be earned. So, when Jon heard that a new council member, Lord Janos Slynt, once Commander of the City Watch in King's Landing, would be in the panel, it burned him intensely. As rumor has it, Janos had a part in Ned Stark's arrest.
Adding salt to the wound, what Jon will tell the Council will displease them. To survive, he broke vows and killed a brother of the Night's Watch.
Building up his courage, Jon made his way to the Shieldhall, where the Council waited. Inside, along with the lone table, sat the Council. Center was Ser Alliser, with Maester Aemon on his left with First Steward Bowen Marsh, while on his right was Lord Janos and First Builder Othell Yarwyck. Jon knew Maester Aemon and Bowen were fair men. Knowing Jon since he became a steward. But Yarwyck is a mystery since Yarwyck has been focused on repairing the defenses instead of political issues.
Maester Aemon asked Jon to tell his side of the story about what happened over the Wall and how he got to the South without using the Tunnel. Jon took a deep breath and told them everything, from the moment he traveled with Qhorin Halfhand, the wildlings, Mance, everything except his romantic affairs. Once he was done, Ser Alliser spoke.
"So, you admit you murdered Qhorin Halfhand?" Ser Alliser accused.
"I didn't murder him," Jon defended.
"No?" Ser Alliser asked. "You put your sword through a brother of the Night's Watch. What do you call that?"
"He wanted me to kill him," Jon explained again.
Lord Janos scoffed, "A bastard son of a traitor. What would you expect?"
"The Halfhand believed our only chance to stop Mance was to get a man inside his army."
"Don't talk about the Halfhand as if you knew him. He was my brother," Ser Alliser warned.
"Then you'd know he'd do anything to defend the Wall," Jon countered. "The Free Folk would have boiled him alive, but letting me kill him . . . "
"The Free Folk?" Lord Janos interrupted. "Listen to him. He even talks like a wildling now."
Jon growled as he bellowed, "Aye, I talk like a wildling. I ate with the wildlings. I climbed the Wall with the wildlings. I –" he stopped himself for a second, then sighed. "I laid with a wildling girl."
Breaking his vow of celibacy will be punished.
Maester Aemon took a deep breath.
Lord Janos adjusted himself, looking at Ser Alliser for a second, then back to Jon, "You admit to breaking your vows, then?"
"I do," Jon confessed.
"The law is the law. The boy must die," Lord Janos said.
"If we beheaded every ranger who lay with a girl, the Wall would be manned by headless men," Maester Aemon announced, breaking his silence.
"There's a difference between sneaking off to the Mole's Town brothel and sleeping with the enemy." Ser Alliser reminded.
"While we sit here debating which rules I broke, Mance Rayder marches on the Wall with an army of one hundred thousand." Jon implored.
"Impossible," Ser Alliser said. "You can't get fifty wildlings together before they start killing each other."
"One hundred thousand," Jon explained yet again. "He's united the Thenns, the Hornfoots, the ice-river clans. The Dires and their direwolves. He even has giants fighting for him."
"Giants?" Lord Janos laughed.
However, the others in the Council were not laughing. Giants they may question, but the tribes they do not. Especially the Dires and their Direwolves.
"Have you ever been beyond the Wall, ser?" Jon asked Lord Janos.
"I commanded the City Watch of King's Landing, boy," Lord Janos replied.
"And now you're here," Jon said casually. "You must not have been very good at your job."
Lord Janos snapped, slamming his fists on the table as he stood up. "How dare you?!"
"There's a band of wildlings south of the Wall already led by Tormund Giantsbane." Jon continued. "I killed one of their Wargs and three others. The second Warg is the Wildling Huntress. They shot me full of arrows. Their orders are to attack Castle Black from the south when Mance hits it from the north. The signal for the attack will be a bonfire. Mance said it would be the greatest fire the North has ever seen. That's the truth. All the truth."
Lord Janos sat down.
"Do you intend to execute me, or am I free to go?" Jon asked.
Ser Alliser opened his mouth to speak, yet Maester Aemon spoke first, "None of us are free. We are men of the Night's Watch. But we won't be taking your head today, Jon Snow. Go on!"
Jon merely nodded as he left the Shieldhall.
Deep down, he felt like he had betrayed somebody. Only he couldn't decide who it was. He broke his vows as a means of survival. But at the same time, he betrayed Ygritte, his first love. A part of him wishes he had stayed in the cave with Ygritte. However, two armies are making their way south with different causes. One for survival and the other for destruction. Yet, both will cause destruction after eight thousand years of isolation from the rest of Westeros. Jon wishes there was a way to make peace between the wildlings and the Night's Watch.
For there was a greater enemy than Man.
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