Warg Maiden
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Edited xXFallenSakuraXx52
Chapter 1: Fiery and Dark Hair Maidens
Ygritte's POV
It happened long ago. It was winter. Then again, it is always winter. Has been winter for almost eight thousand years. The Dire Tribe was stopping by to do trade at Rudy Hall. The Dire Tribe were from the rare parts where the weather was slightly warm in the True North. Although, where it is at, no one knows for sure. Only a Dire will know. But like the animals they bond with, they travel all around doing trade now and then. They are called the Dires simply because of one thing…direwolves. For some reason, the Dires knew how to bond with direwolves. Many assume it's because the Dires are populated by Wargs, making the connection between man and beast so easily.
One group that came was the one Ygritte was excited to see, as the Chief would bring his daughter, Imogen. Imogen was the same age as her. So, when the Dires came to the camp, Ygritte abandoned her chores, looking around in search of her friend. The Dires only stayed for a short time, a week or two at most. The young girl scavenged about until she spotted the dark-haired girl chasing after a small pup.
"Imogen!" Ygritte called out.
The girl stumbled, tripping over the pup and into the snow. Ygritte giggled as she came over to help her friend. She was also wiping the snow off her leathers and furs. Afterward, the fiery girl hugged the dark-haired girl. Imogen giggled as she hugged her friend in return.
"You made it," Ygritte praised.
"Had to wrestle Papa's leg to be here," Imogen giggled.
Ygritte imagines Imogen clinging to Chief Fenrir like a toddler. Ygritte also giggled and stopped when she felt tiny paws on her leg. She looked down, seeing the Direwolf, a puppy who finished the imprinting state with its mother. Its fur was black, while its eyes were of two different colors, one blue and one yellow. Ygritte knelt, picking the puppy up.
"And who is this?" Ygritte asked.
"This is Skadi," Imogen answered happily. "She bonded with me twenty days ago."
In the Dire Clan, when the children come of age in their tenth year, they shall receive their direwolf by choice. Of course, the child does not choose the direwolf; the direwolf chooses them. There would be times when a Dire would not receive their wolf until they were older or a wolf from another Dire whose owner passed away to seek another companion. Chief Fenrir's wolf, Valko, used to belong to the Chief's father. Direwolves can live for a long time. Seven years seem like one year to the direwolves, even though they grow rapidly during their first two years.
The girls knelt and started playing with Skadi, trying to teach the pup new tricks. They managed to get Skadi to roll over as the fresh snow clung to the black fur. Skadi stood up and shook, tossing the snow covering the two girls. They shrieked from the cold snow, wiping their cheeks before laughing. It was a simple time.
CAW!
The girls looked up, seeing a small blackbird on the totem. It was not like the usual birds that fly about, primarily hawks and owls or the eagles in these parts of the True North. It watched them with beady black eyes. Imogen scowled at the bird. She formed a snowball and tossed it. The blackbird quickly dodged before returning to its position.
"Damn bird," Imogen muttered.
"What about the bird?" Ygritte asked.
"It's been following me and my dreams lately," Imogen muttered.
"You better be nice to the Raven," Fenrir said as he came over.
"Raven?" the girls asked.
"That's what they are. Bigger than crows and much wiser, too." Fenrir explained. "If not messengers of death. There is one raven you should watch out for. And that is the Three-Eyed Raven."
"Why?" Ygritte asked.
"He is the last of the greenseer, a deity with greensight and wargs but no vessel," Fenrir explained. "Every hundred years, he seeks a new host, teaching them all the worlds before becoming one. Many wargs and greenseer wonder and fear if they'll be the one for such honor."
"Just a bunch of shit," Tormund said, patting Fenrir on the back. "A blackbird with three eyes."
"Says the man who thinks he's holy," Fenrir countered.
"The sun's fire kissed my hair," Tormund replied proudly.
"Oh, I thought you smeared the blood of your enemies in those locks," Fenrir jested at the man.
Tormund barked a laugh.
Fenrir shook his head and patted Imogen's shoulder, "Come help me set up camp. You can play with your friend later."
"Yes, Papa," Imogen said and hugged Ygritte.
Ygritte hugged her back.
This was the last visit of the two weeks Ygritte saw Imogen before returning to her village. During the time the girls played, something happened to Imogen. They were chasing Skadi when Imogen's gray eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she stood paralyzed. Ygritte was nervous, calling for help. Fenrir came to oversee his daughter, who fell to the ground while Skadi was acting up, seeing the multicolor eyed wolf being gray. He realized his daughter was warging, as her sudden attempt with Skadi was normal. He helped his daughter back to her body, being a warg himself. Afterward, he thought taking Imogen home in a safe, familiar environment was best.
Back to Lunar Haven.
That would be the last time Ygritte saw Imogen as a girl. She understood that being a warg is a taxing gift. Sadly, something happened that put the Dire Clan in a frenzy. Imogen went missing a year after that. There was a blizzard. One minute, she was next to Chief Fenrir, and the next, she was gone. The Dire Clan went in search, and when a cub is taken from the Dire Clan, you better be prepared for the violence they can use to find what they want.
Five years… Imogen went missing.
Ygritte felt like she had lost a sister.
When she became a spearwife, going on her hunts, she kept an eye out in hopes of finding her friend. Sadly, as the years passed, a new threat appeared. It started off with the sick and elderly. They died from natural causes yet awakened with vibrant blue eyes and their skin cold as ice. When they started to attack, loved ones defended themselves, taking blades and stabbing their loved one's corpse, except they kept moving no matter how grievous the wound was until tripping into fire pits or were hit by torches. The legends they grew up on for eight thousand years began as they worried for the Dead.
For twenty years, Mance Rayder tried to warn them, during which time more clans and tribes joined forces.
Mance Rayder is a Wildling born whose parents were Crow and Free Folk. His father took a Free Woman and abandoned them. Mance grew up as a wildling until the Crows raided his village. They took the boy in, raising him as a Crow. But Mance knew who he was and saw the actual monsters that wandered these frozen lands. The White Walkers were starting to show themselves. At first, their sightings were rare. Maybe one near Craster's Keep, but as time went on, more started to appear. Everyone feared the White Walkers and Mance Rayder tried to help his fellow folk.
One day, Ygritte was hunting in the forest.
Unaware that she came across a group of wights. Men who died from hunger and the curse of the Far North claimed more lives. She took her bow, shooting them down, yet they continued towards her. She ran, trying to escape the wights, until tripping over. She turned around to face death, seeing the wights lunging forward. She closed her eyes, waiting for darkness. However, darkness flew over her, tackling the wights.
Ygritte opened her eyes and saw a massive wolf attacking the wights and another Free Folk. She held a spear with a large spearhead crystal, stabbing the wights who dared come close. Just one stab alone and the Wight fell to the ground. Soon, they were all dead, leaving Ygritte, the wolf, and the stranger standing.
The Spearwife stood brushing the snow off her furs, approaching the person.
"I owe you thanks," Ygritte said. "I'm Ygritte."
The stranger kept her back to Ygritte.
"I gave you my name," Ygritte reminded sharply.
The stranger pulled down the hood to her makeshift cloak. Strapped on the person's back was a fancy sword. One that those high Crows own. She turned around, facing the archer of the face of a ghost. She stood tall and had pale skin. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Around her gray eyes was charcoal. Ygritte would have thought it was any spearwife, but the direwolf with the multicolor eyes told her differently.
"Imogen?" She gasped.
The woman nodded.
Ygritte steps forward, getting a better look at her friend. Although the built-up rage from her lengthy absence had Ygritte fist her hand and punch Imogen in the face. The girl's face turned, but she remained standing. She cradled her bruised cheek.
"Where have you been?" Ygritte demanded.
"Under the Weirwood tree," Imogen whispered.
"What? All this time, you've been hiding under a tree?"
"Ygr- "
Ygritte punched her again. She was about to do it for the third time, but Imogen caught it. Blue eyes stared at gray eyes. One can see a person's soul through the eyes. What Ygritte saw could break anyone's heart. Imogen was in pain, not physical pain, but suffering inside. An expression of rejection and sorrow was written in those eyes as if she had been taken away by force, adapted, and now lost again.
"If you are still my friend . . . I need you to take me to the King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"And why should I?"
"Because this is only the beginning," Imogen said, pointing her spear towards the dead wights. "And more is on the rise."
Having no choice, Ygritte nodded, yet she stopped to hug her childhood friend again.
That was what life was like for the next four years. Imogen acquired knowledge that no one else could explain. She was reunited with her parents, Chief Fenrir and Boudica, along with her siblings Ethan and Aiden. But when arriving at the camps, she addressed Mance Rayder, a Crow turned Free Folk of what they were honestly dealing with.
"And how do you know this?" Mance asked.
Imogen looked down at her feet, "Because the Three-Eyed Raven showed me."
"The Three-Eyed Raven?" Mance asked, confused.
Imogen nodded, "He wants us to fight. Fight for the living. The only way to do that is to unite the tribes and head south."
She then looked Mance in the eyes.
"If we don't, then we are all dead."
Those years of uniting the tribes were taxing. Ygritte tried to get her friend back, which Imogen allowed. But it wasn't the same. Whatever the Three-Eyed Raven did hurt her friend. She tried to pry for some information but gets some now and then through the four years. She learned about the Children and the visions she had seen of the past.
"How come you didn't become the next Raven?" Ygritte asked.
Imogen held a lost look, "I wasn't worthy."
Not worthy?
.o0o.
Present Day
Jon's POV
Jon Snow was still on guard as he entered the Wildling Camp. It was a long, tedious journey since being captured by the Wildlings with Qhorin Halfhand. Until his fellow comrade devised a plan to earn the trust of the wildlings to escape. Qhorin wasn't direct in telling Jon and killed the respected Ranger with his own sword. There, he earned Ygritte's and Lord of Bones' respect. Well, enough respect to not be tied up anymore. Sometimes, he wonders if he should have listened to Qhorin and killed Ygritte. The woman was annoying.
They entered the camp; it was massive. More extensive than any wildling population the rangers told him about. Seeing some slight resemblance from other tribes in their furs. Some wear antlers or walrus skulls. Others were walking with bare feet that turned black and hardened from frostbite. Others have painted faces. It was strange seeing people living ordinary lives, almost like in Winterfell.
As he continued walking with Ygritte, he saw something familiar and strange. There were direwolves in the camp of all different sizes. The ones that shocked him the most were the ones that were the size of a horse. Far larger than Ghost is. The direwolves were wearing harnesses used to drag timber. Right behind the furry beast was a giant. The giant was carrying lumber, being almost thirty feet tall. The giant walked by them and into a group, dropping the lumber. A man below shouted thanks as he removed the rope from the direwolves.
"First time you've seen a giant, Jon Snow?" Ygritte asked. "Or a direwolf?"
"Direwolves, no," Jon mumbled, still bewildered as he continued to watch the giant.
"Well, don't stare too long. They're shy," Ygritte playfully warned.
The giant took the lumber and shoved it down into the earth. Next, he took his hand and slammed his fist onto the beam like a hammer.
"When they stop being shy, they get angry," Ygritte added. "And when they're angry, I've seen them pound a man straight into the ground like a hammer on a nail."
Jon looked at her, wondering if she was joking. Unfortunately, she wasn't as she walked away. He glanced at the giant, who was still pounding away. Not a second longer, the giant he was staring at growled at him. Jon quickly looked away and followed Ygritte. People were shouting, calling him Crow, or giving him a stingy stare on the journey. Suddenly, he was struck by a rock, almost losing his balance.
"You're wearing the wrong color," Ygritte taunted.
"Mance was a ranger," Jon muttered, being struck by another rock.
"In your hearts, all you Crows want to fly free. "Ygritte replied.
"When I'm free, will I be free to go?" Jon asked.
A bunch of kids rushed over, shouting crow and throwing more rocks at him. He hunched over to protect his head.
"Sure, you will," Ygritte laughed before kicking a kid in the shins and knocking him down. She turned to Jon, "And I'll be free to kill you."
Jon questions his life now.
Ygritte continued walking, "Got no respect, this lot. Got no fathers to slap 'em when they're foul."
"What happened to their fathers?" Jon asked.
Ygritte gave him a sour look, "Some of them were killed by crows like you."
Jon frowned.
"Don't look so grim, Jon Snow," she said. "If Mance Rayder likes you, you'll live another day. And if he don't . . ."
She gave him a wicked smile.
They reached the center tent in the camp, one of the largest tents, which was being held by tusks. Outside were two direwolves waiting. A black one and an older gray one. They lay by the entrance and gave Jon a growl. Ygritte, familiar with these two wolves, came over and petted the black wolf on the head.
"Such a pretty girl," Ygritte murmured.
The wolf leaned into her touch before resting her head down. Jon was surprised by this. Ygritte smiled before giving her spear to one of the wildlings at the entrance. Another guard handed her ice before lifting the tarp and giving them entry. Inside a large gathering, they sat around the fire, eating some caught rabbits and chicken. One man with red hair was hunched forward, scarfing his face in the cooked flesh. There was an older man, middle-aged with salt and pepper hair. He wore a cloak with a wolf around his shoulders, the same as Jon's family did with their cloak. His eyes were gray, and some blue paint was around his eyes and forehead. Next to him was a girl with the exact resemblance, yet she had a tattoo along her neck and a Snowy owl resting on her shoulder.
The Lord of Bones stopped Jon and removed his walrus mask.
The man eating the rabbit stopped eating, "I smell a crow."
"We killed his friends," Lord of Bones announced. "I thought you'd want to question this one."
Jon assumed this man was Mance Rayder.
"What do we want with a baby Crow," he asked, taking another bite.
"This baby killed Qhorin Halfhand," Ygritte answered. "He wants to be one of us."
The three stopped eating as the wildling king stood up, being a foot taller than Jon.
"That half-handed cunt killed friends of mine," he said. "Friends twice your size."
Jon stared into the man's blue eyes, "My father told me big men fall just as quick as little ones if you put a sword through their hearts."
"Plenty of little men tried to put their swords through my heart. And there's plenty of little skeletons buried in the woods." He murmured. "What's your name, boy?"
"Jon Snow," Jon replied. The man paused, staring at him. Jon didn't know if they were formal like they were in the South. Since he was addressing the King Beyond the Wall, he forgot his manners and immediately kneeled before the man. "Your Grace."
Suddenly, the room burst into laughter.
"Your Grace?" the man asked, amused, then spread his arms out. "Did you hear that? From now on, you'd better kneel every time I fart."
.o0o.
Imogen's POV
I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped my lips. Tormund, as always, has a sense of humor. I doubt I feel sorry for the baby crow. Then again, he chose this life to hunt us free folk. At first, I wondered why Ygritte and Rattleshirt would bring a Crow to our camp. After Ygritte's explanation, it sounds reasonable. I've crossed paths with Qhorin Halfhand. The bastard killed my fellow comrades.
Jon Snow looked up, utterly confused, wondering why we were all laughing.
"Stand, boy," Mance said, coming out from his corner. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the Wall."
Jon stood up, facing Mance.
"So, you're Ned Stark's bastard," Mance noted. "Thank you for the gift, Lord of Bones. You can leave us now."
Lord Bones nodded, leaving the tent along with Ygritte. She glanced over at Jon before leaving as well. It seems Ygritte has a new target now. I doubt Orell will be pleased about it. The two were in a relationship. I don't seriously know what happened to end it, but Ygritte said Orell wanted more than she could give. Then again, Ygritte is a free spirit. She can't be tamed.
We Free Folk don't have the same customs as Southerners regarding marriage. A majority of the tribes have a high expectation of the men to be forceful. A man must steal a woman from her home or clan, although there is a slight challenge since women are trained to fight. If the woman submits, it's a blessing. If she puts up a fight, then the man must put in more effort, especially if male relatives are involved. But on some occasions, if a relationship falters over time and there are no babies to tend to, the two can separate. It was believed that taking a woman from a far-off tribe would strengthen the population. The gods and man frown upon Free Folk taking a relative or the same clan member. Mance said from his experience in the south that fornicating with family is called incest, which leads to physical and/or mental conditions.
However, we Dires don't partake in stealing a bride when the Red Wanderer is within the Moonmaid. There is a pursuit as men try to steal a woman's heart. However, as a pack, the affection must be accepted in the term, and we allow the union with the clan's members as the elders keep track of who is related to whom. Only when there are no eligible women or the risk of cousin fornication, do they seek others outside the tribe. My father, Fenrir, didn't have to steal his wife, Boudica. My mother was an excellent spearwife; she was a fighter and simply loved my father as they grew up together. There have been a few occasions of ballsy men trying to steal me, except they keep forgetting about Skadi.
"The girl likes you," Mance noted. "You like her back, Snow? That's why you want to join us?"
This…Jon Snow bit his lip, looking away from Mance.
"Don't panic, boy," Tormund said. "This isn't the damned Night's Watch where we make you swear off girls."
"Your balls would fall off if we did," Fenrir joked.
Tormund burst up laughing.
"This chicken eater you thought was King is Tormund Giantsbane," Mance introduced our fiery friend, then pointed at us. "And this is Chief Fenrir and his daughter Imogen, the Wildling Huntress the Crows talk about."
Jon Snow stared at me, baffled. I plucked some rabbit and offered it to Frigg, my Snowy Owl, who ate the piece. No doubt my reputation has been heard down near the Wall since, on occasion, I have come near it. Seeing if I can talk to a Crow to warn them. Sadly, any encounter ended when they tried to rape and kill me. So out of defense, I kill them, except those I try to warn and leave a protection charm on them. In case they do die beyond the Wall.
The last time I was near, I tried to help a small tribe, but I was too late as an Other…a White Walker, slaughtered them to form a warning symbol. Three Crows came to investigate, and two of them died by the White Walker. I managed to save the third, hoping this encounter could enlighten the Night's Watch that the actual threat did occur. Mance did say that any Crow who deserts their vows ends up losing his head. A waste of time and a nasty injury from the Other. Fortunately, my dragon glass struck the creature dead.
"Can't believe this pup killed the Halfhand," Tormund said, walking around the young man.
Guilt crossed the Crow's face.
"He was our enemy, and I'm glad he's dead," Mance said, offering his hand to the boy.
Jon hesitated before accepting Mance's hand as he was pulled closer.
"He was my brother once," Mance murmured. "Back when he had a whole hand."
The young Crow pulled his hand back.
"What were you doing with him?" Mance asked.
"The Lord Commander sent me to the Halfhand for seasoning," Jon answered.
"Why?"
"He wants me to lead one day."
"But here you are, a traitor kneeling before the King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"If I'm a traitor, then you are, too."
All eyes were on Jon.
Mance smirked, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder, "Why do you want to join us, Jon Snow?"
The boy was silent. It is a good question. Only one Crow who has ever deserted the Night's Watch to join us is Mance. The only reason Mance is so readily accepted is that he is half Free Folk. So why would a Crow want to join us? Unless, of course, he is here to gather information to use against us.
The thought had me scowling at him.
"I want to be free," Jon answered.
"No, I don't think so," Mance said, seeing past the lie. "I think what you want most of all is to be a hero."
Fenrir stood up, holding his ax,
"I'll ask you one last time – why do you want to join us?"
The Crow looked at his surroundings and then stared straight into Mance. "We stopped at Craster's Keep on the way north. I saw . . ."
"You saw what?"
"I saw Craster take his own baby boy and leave it in the woods. I saw what took it."
"You're telling me you saw one of them?" Mance asked, his composure dropped. "And why would that make you desert your brothers?"
Jon looked down, "Because when I told the Lord Commander," Then looked back up, "he already knew. Thousands of years ago, the First Men battled the White Walkers and defeated them. I want to fight for the side that fights for the living. Did I come to the right place?"
Mance paused, examining the boy before saying, "We'll need to find you a new cloak."
One of the men led Jon to the Seamstress Tent to get some new clothes suitable for the climate. Once we were alone, Mance turned around and faced Fenrir and me.
"What do you think?" Mance asked.
"He's warm-blooded," I answered.
"Really? He's from the North," Mance said.
"Anyone below the Wall is not a true Northern." I said. "Something doesn't seem right…I don't trust him."
"Of course, you don't," Tormund laughed. "He's a Crow."
"Keep a close eye on him," Mance instructed all of us. "If he is a spy, then bring him to me."
We all nodded.
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