Warg Maiden
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Warning: this chapter is Rated M for Sexual Content.
Chapter 4: Kissed by Fire
Imogen's POV
The next day, we were all packed for the climb on the Wall. However, I knew I was in a slight predicament since my spear would be in the way. It's hard to climb while carrying a massive spear. Therefore, I walked over to Fenrir and handed him my spear. His eyes widened, knowing how vital the spear was to me. One of my few gifts from the Children of the Forest.
"Are you sure?" Fenrir asked.
"Yes, it's too massive to climb, and there won't be any wights where I'm going," I answered.
Fenrir nodded as he wrapped a hand on my neck and pressed his forehead against mine. A gesture of care that the Dires give to one another, mainly used among family and real friends. I love my father dearly, and despite losing five years, our bond was still there. I was very close to my father, but we had to go our separate ways once more. We will meet again at Castle Black. Once there, we can bring our Clan to a safe place, and our family will be safe.
Afterward, he adjusted the mask of the wolf on my face.
"The lone wolf dies," Fenrir said.
"And the pack survives," I replied.
The Dire Clan would exchange this farewell to remind us how important our community was and how our tribe lives. Words my ancestors exchanged for eight thousand years since the construction of the Wall. We said one more goodbye before going our separate ways. As I went over to Skadi, I noticed Jon Snow was nearby. As if he eavesdropped on our conversation. Mance Rayder once said House Stark had the sigil of a Direwolf. When I was with Bloodraven, he mentioned the North and how House Stark had a motto that said Winter is Coming.
I gave him a scowl, and he turned away.
Ygritte was by Skadi, chuckled, "Little Crow watching?"
"I don't trust him," I muttered.
"Any crow you don't trust," Ygritte murmured. "Then again, you have a reputation with 'em Crows."
"Either they'll rape me or kill me, or I kill them," I reminded.
"And you let some of them survive…with a mark," she said.
"Rather, them dead completely or a member of the Night King's army?" I asked.
She lifted her hand, touching her shoulder. When I showed the symbol that protects the body from being resurrected, Ygritte immediately had hers upon hearing about it. While I carved the marking in the Crows, Ygritte's had her stained.
Anyway, we started making our way south. Our travels were tense, and tension was coming from Orell. Ygritte stood close by Jon as she kept watch over him. If not, keep doubt from the others. When she was not with Jon, she was next to me. Or, better yet, riding on Skadi with me as Jon Snow watched, amazed to see how big my direwolf was.
Ygritte laughed, "What? Have you ever seen a direwolf this big before? I thought you said you had seen a direwolf?"
"I have, with my own?" Jon replied.
"Your own?" I asked.
"His name is Ghost," he answered.
"Ghost?" I asked again.
"His fur is white, and his eyes red," Jon answered.
"Was this before you became a Crow or after?" Ygritte asked.
"Before."
"How can a Direwolf get below the Wall?" Ygritte asked aloud.
"Must have crossed through the gorge," I guessed.
"Ghost didn't cross. His mother did. She died outside of Winterfell from a Stag spearing her. Leaving six pups behind." Jon explained. "Ghost, he's the runt of the litter."
"How tall is he now?" I asked.
"Last I saw him…." Jon raised his hand up to his waist.
I nodded, "Runts take a bit longer to grow. But in the end, they end up the same size as all the rest."
"And how long did it take for…your wolf…to be this big?"
"Three years," I said. "Maybe four. It's hard to tell when you get used to them growing."
"And how old is she?" he asked.
I paused, thinking about it, "About a decade."
"I thought wolves live up to ten years," Jon said.
Ygritte and I chuckled at this as we pet Skadi.
"Not direwolves. Seven years are like a year to them," I explained.
Jon nodded, taking the information in.
It would be a week before we reached the springs. The springs were not out in the open; instead, they were hidden in the caves. Many of the Free Folks took this as our opportunity to bathe.
Ygritte approached me as she spoke in the Old Tongue, "Think you can lend Skadi to guard one of the caves?"
I tilted my head, looking at her, "Why?"
"Because I want to be alone with Jon Snow," She murmured as she leaned over and whispered in my ear, "And break his vows."
I scoffed, looking at Jon, who stood out of place. I sighed, now feeling sorry for the Crow, "You will eat him alive."
Ygritte chuckled, "So…."
I sighed, shaking my head, "Just don't kill him."
Ygritte laughed, though it stopped when seeing Tormund gesturing to us over with Orell. Orell had been warging, checking the condition of the Wall. Ygritte got Snow as we came over to them. Orell was giving a scornful look while Tormund remained neutral.
"Orell says there are crows patrolling on the Wall," Tormund announced. "Tell me what you know."
"There are four to a patrol—two builders to check for the structural damage, two rangers to watch for enemies," Jon explained.
"How often do these patrols go out?" Orell asked.
"It varies," Jon answered. "If I knew where on the Wall we were heading, I could tell you."
"You'd like to know that," Orell challenged. "There are nineteen castles guarding the Wall. How many are manned?"
"Three," Jon said, staring straight into his eyes.
"You sure of that?" Orell asked.
Jon nodded.
"Which three?" Orell asked.
All eyes were on Jon as he said, "Castle Black."
"Aye, Castle Black. Everyone knows Castle Black." Orell agreed bitterly. "Which others?"
Jon paused, staring at Orell, "Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and the Shadow Tower."
He looked down as if he had betrayed someone.
"How many men remain in Castle Black?" Tormund asked.
Jon looked at him, "A thousand."
"Liar," Orell growled.
The Crow angrily dropped the sticks he had gathered for the fire and reached into Orell's face. "What happens to your eagle after I kill you? Does he drift away like a kite with his string cut, or does he just flop dead to the ground?"
Ygritte stepped in, "He's no crow."
"Just 'cause you want him inside, you don't make him one of us," Orell told Ygritte.
Ygritte drew her dagger and aimed it at Orell, "I'm not afraid of you."
Tormund, having had enough, stood up and yanked Orell to the ground. He then got into Jon's face, giving him a severe expression. "I like you, boy. But if you lie to me, I'll pull your guts out through your throat."
Ygritte and I looked at Jon as he murmured, "A thousand men."
Tormund stared into his eyes, seeking the truth, "We'll find out soon enough."
Orell got up as he and Tormund went to check on the camp. I got down, picking up some of the firewood as Ygritte helped as well. We carried it with Jon to the next campfire, although Jon was not pleased.
"I don't need you to protect me," he grumbled.
"Of course you do," Ygritte said. "Who stopped Rattleshirt when he was about to cut your throat?" She stopped him, "Who vouched for you with Mance? It seems you owe me a debt."
She yanked his sword, one with a white wolf pommel, and took hold.
Jon, baffled, went after her, "Give it back."
"Well, I stole it. It's mine." She countered. "If you want it, come steal it back."
She stole a torch from the fire and took off to the caves. Jon growled and went after her, shouting her name. I sighed and turned to Skadi, gesturing to her to follow and guard them. Making sure no one disturbed Ygritte's test on the Crow. How did the stupid vow go, "Take no bride," or something like that? I sighed, collecting the wood that had been dropped and delivering it to the new campfire. I stared at the flames and sat on a mat while holding Dark Sister.
So many thoughts lingered in my head as I thought about Bloodraven and our first time together. For five years, I was missing, hidden under the weirwood tree with the Children and the Three-Eyed-Raven. But traveling through the past or in the realm of dreams with Bloodraven has felt like ten years instead of five.
The original plan was that once I was ready to be the Three-Eyed Raven, my soul would be one with Dark Sister and forever joined with Bloodraven. I loved him; he stole my heart. At first, he was a mentor, teaching me about the Seven Kingdoms, how to fight with a sword, archery, and the arts—teaching me how to read and write. Over time, his emotions grew from mentor and pupil to friends and later lovers.
I traced my finger over the ruby on the rainguard, thinking about that night.
.o0o.
The Past
My mindset was that of an eighteen-year-old at the time, even though I was physically fifteen in the real world. Bloodraven and I were in the castle known as the Red Keep. The castle was quiet since there was no one there. In the realm, there were only the illusions of the animals as day turned to night and night turned into day. Bloodraven had spent years in solitude, not minding the isolation, for he grew up on it.
Throughout the years, he told me about his life. He was once a bastard, a son of a King below the Wall, King Aegon IV Targaryen, and his sixth mistress, Lady Melissa Blackwood. He had two older sisters and numerous half-siblings from the King, as many called him, One of the Great Bastards. It wasn't until his father was dying that he got legitimized. From there, he made his own personal arms of a white dragon with red eyes, breathing fire on a black field as he wore on his tunic.
His life was fascinating. He was loyal to the Targaryens during the Blackfyre Rebellion when his half-siblings fought against each other for the Iron Throne. A throne made of hundreds of swords of his ancestors' conquest, forged by dragon fire. Bloodraven held little interest in power and was loyal to the true King, Daeron II. He struggled with his half-siblings, Daemon and Aegor, during the rebellion, where he lost his eye. Although he had both eyes in the realm, the eye that was once lost was pale, almost pink instead of red like the other. He even fell in love with his half-sister, Shiera Seastar. Bloodraven had to explain the Valyrian culture to me after I scolded him that it was wrong to mate with his siblings. He sure was amused by a twelve-year-old lecturing him at the time.
Nevertheless, after the rebellion and serving Daeron II, he later served his son King Aerys and became Hand of the King and Master of Whisperers since his greenseer abilities were beneficial. Until came the second Blackfyre Rebellion against his supposed new heir, followed by the third rebellion, in which Aegor was captured. Bloodraven told Aerys to execute him, yet the King refused and decided to send Aegor to the Wall, only to escape and sail off to Essos. Bloodraven continued as Hand to the next King, Maekor, until his death led to a dispute on the line of succession. A Great Council was called, and a power dispute led to Bloodraven. The King believed he killed Aenys Blackfyre when the man came to Westeros only to be beheaded by the Gold Cloaks. Bloodraven was given a choice, forever in prison or take the black.
Over time, Bloodraven earned his position as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Still, that position ended nearly twenty years later when he encountered the Three-Eyed Raven.
Bloodraven lived a long and complicated life filled with politics and wars. The Southerners' laws were far more complex than the Free Folk's. When I asked what happened to Shiera Seastar, he told me she had many lovers, and her games made him jealous.
"I have my own ghosts, Imogen. A brother that I loved, a brother that I hated, a woman that I desired." He told me after telling me his tale.
He loved Daeron, he hated Aegor, and he desired Shiera.
"And I thought my family was complicated," I said, being naïve.
Bloodraven laughed, messing up my hair, "True, for your history has been lost to your family. But you come from a long line of Great Men, from the First. When the Three-Eyed Raven thinks you are ready, you will know the truth of your ancestors, as I did with mine."
That confused me, but I learned who my ancestors were before the Great Divide.
Anyway, Bloodraven and I were in the library as we read. He was reading the books, and I was listening since the books were written in Valyrian. Knowing three languages was enough for me: the Common Tongue, the Old Tongue, and the Children's Language. And yet, Valyrian sounded like a song. The dialect was a tongue twister on my part. So Bloodraven read the poem in Valyrian before translating it, as his arm wrapped around my waist.
"They held each other close and turned their backs upon the end.
The hills that split asunder and the black that ate the skies;
The flames that shot so high and hot that even dragons burned;
Would never be the final sights that fell upon their eyes.
A fly upon a wall, the waves the sea wind whipped and churned –
The city of a thousand years and all that men had learned;
The Doom consumed it all alike, and neither of them turned."
"What caused the Doom?" I asked him.
"No one knows for sure," he answered, closing the book. "Many believe it was caused by wild magic from the Dragonlords, while others believe several volcanoes erupted and destroyed everything in its wake. Only the earth's fire can burn a dragon."
I nodded as I stood up and walked over to the small bar to pour us a drink of wine. It wasn't ale or fermented milk. A luxury that came from fruits, more specifically, grapes.
"Still, to find true love and holding them close till death is something the Wise Woman would tell us, young girls," I murmured.
Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me close. I blushed, for I had fallen in love with him but didn't know how to express it. We were not in the True North, where he needed to steal me, nor in Lunar Haven, where he must earn my heart. But I was not the woman he desired. I was not Shiera Seastar, who had pale skin, long silver-gold hair, and unique blue and green eyes.
"Imogen," he murmured. "How long shall we wait?"
He turned me around to look at him. His red eyes were staring at my own orbs of gray. Not a second later, he brushed the dark curls out of my face and cradled my cheek.
"I'm not her," I mumbled.
"No…you can never be the desire," he murmured.
I looked down, feeling a sting in my eyes and a pang in my chest.
"But you are what I wished for," he said. "One who is faithful."
"Bloodraven- "I started, only to be silenced by his lips as he kissed me.
My eyes widened, not expecting it. Not long after, he pulled back, "It's Brynden. Please call me Brynden."
"Brynden," I whispered.
His eyes flickered briefly to my lips before back to my eyes. He raised a hand to smooth my hair behind my ear. He watched me, examining my behavior, seeing if this was a step out of bounds. Seeing that it was not, he leaned forward just a little more. Brynden trailed his hand from my shoulders down my arm to my side, and rested on the indent of my waist. Not long after he kissed me again, I gasped when he pushed his tongue against my own. My hands rose to his chest, my palms flattened against his tunic. Brynden leaned his hips against me so I could feel his arousal grow. I clutched the fabric, pulled him closer, and opened my mouth more to him.
He pushed me back along the wall, sighing as his body pressed against me. My breasts were pressed against his chest. His hands slide down along my waist to my butt, pulling me closer, tighter. Neither of us broke the kiss. The library felt warm as if trapped in the sun. As if I was kissing fire…dragon fire.
Brynden angled his head, deepening the kiss. I panted, trying to keep up, yet he was more experienced than I was. This made me want him more—more than kissing. He shifted slightly, pulling me towards the door.
"Do you trust me," he asked.
Lost for words, I nodded. So, we went to his room, and he closed the door only to press me against it again. He made a growl, bending low and clasping me around the waist, lifting me up against his erection. I gasped, sliding my arms around his shoulders and rocking my privates upon his.
"Imogen," he murmured against my ear, which caused me to shudder.
He pulled back, working on my tunic, tearing at the woven fabric over my head and revealing my breasts. Exposing the tattoos, the Children of the Forest had started engraving on my skin. Slowly, Brynden traced his fingers to the intricate designs on my torso, causing my stomach to tighten under his touch.
"Brynden," I moaned.
Suddenly, he snapped from his daze and carried me to the bed. He laid me down on the feather mattress, hovering over me and taking a moment to look at me.
"Brynden?" I asked, nervous if he was no longer interested.
Saying his name caught his attention as he looked up at me.
"I've never…," I mumbled though
He leaned down and pecked my lips, "I will be gentle."
I nodded even though my physical form remained asleep; I didn't know if I would feel the same pain a virgin would feel in the realm of spirits. Brynden smiled, lifting the birthmark on his cheek and flapping the bird's wing. Next, leaning down and kissing me, softly lashing his tongue on my lips as I permitted him. I moaned as his hands felt my thighs. I was already feeling damp between them. Brynden pulled his lips back and trailed them along my jaw and down my neck. He stopped at my collarbone, sucking on the flesh, before returning upwards to kiss behind my ear and then down, gently raking his teeth against the curve of my neck.
I gasped and moaned yet again, not realizing how sensitive the neck could be. He went lower until reaching my breast, taking a nipple into my mouth. I cursed in the Old Tongue, feeling the bud suckled into his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand cupped my other breast. My breast swelled even further at the attention, and the heat damped more. Brynden sighed as he fitted himself against me. I clutched onto his tunic, pulling the fabric up, wanting to feel his skin. He realized what I was doing and pulled back to remove his tunic and shift, practically stripping away all our clothes. Afterward, he leaned back down, returning to my breast again. I moaned, combing my fingers through his hair, overwhelmed by his touches.
As he continued, he moved his hand down and slid them along my folds, teasing the bundle of nerves. Instantly, my hips buck to such a strange feeling. Brynden smiled softly as he pulled back, staring at me.
"Relax, my wild beauty," he murmured.
Nervously, I nodded.
Brynden kissed the top of my head just like he always did before rubbing down the slit. Once more, a strange feeling consumed me, parting the slick folds and rubbing the bundle of nerves above my opening. He continued rubbing until sliding a finger inside my core. In and out, his finger went before adding a second one. My senses were shocked and overwhelmed. I wasn't sure what to do if I were to return the favor or not.
Realizing I was overthinking, he kissed me again, this time passionately. I was so lost, feeling the buildup below as a third finger joined while moving faster — my stomach tightening when I came all of a sudden. I moaned against his lips as my muscles tightened around him.
Brynden smiled as he pulled back, removing his hand before getting into position, "Do I have your consent?"
Recovering from that sudden bliss, I nodded. Brynden kissed me again, taking hold of his cock, and aligned it to my opening. He attempted a few times, pressing in. On the third attempt, he pushed in, passing my maidenhead. It was an intense sting, feeling my walls stretching towards his girth. All the way in, Brynden remained still, allowing me to adjust to his size. We were now one, mentally and physically. By the time the pain started to recede, I had opened my eyes and cradled his stained cheek, giving the nod.
Brynden nodded as he started to move at a slow and steady pace. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his back, bringing him close. He moved, thrusting into me over and over again. I trembled beneath him, feeling some pain but more pleasure. My body was singing to his touch. Unable to resist, I brought him down to kiss him, trying to kiss Brynden the same way he kissed me. It wasn't long before I felt nothing but pleasure that my hips moved against his. He took that as a good sign and increased his pace, going faster and slightly harder.
He leaned upon his palms, meeting my gaze. His jaw was tight, the blissful agony on his face matching my own. I pressed my hand against his chest and curled my fingers into his snowy white hair. And with one hard, deep thrust, we came together. Our bodies shuddered; his hips trembled against my own. His seeds were shooting deep inside while my muscles clenched around him. Both of us were lost in our orgasms. Brynden collapsed on top of me while I wrapped my arms around him. Neither of us wanted to separate, so I wrapped my arms around him, rubbing his back. Brynden panted, catching his breath, on occasion kissing my neck. Once we caught our breaths, he adjusted slightly, looking into my eyes with a smile.
I smiled back, leaning up some to kiss him.
We often made love when I visited him in my dreams. I loved him dearly, my first true love, as he stole my heart. But during the last time, we shared our encounter, only for me to wake up in the forest with Skadi by my side, spear, and Dark Sister. My heart broke down in tears. I tried not to think about the last encounter, thankful for the mask covering my eyes.
.o0o.
The Cave.
Jon chased after Ygritte as they entered through a cave. He was not in the mood. Not only is Orell catching on to him, but Longclaw was taken. Longclaw was his only gift since joining the Night's Watch. Lord Commander Mormont gave it to him after saving him from the Wight of the late Othro. Jon was already on thin ice since he told the wildings what three castles were still standing and lied about how many brothers were still at Castle Black. If what Imogen said is true about those who escaped from the wights…then there are barely two hundred or so men at Castle Black.
He stopped at the small cave, "Ygritte! Seven hells. Ygritte!"
He went inside, watching his step as he entered the cave and into a chamber. There was a hot spring and a small waterfall inside. He didn't know that caves could have hot springs. Ygritte had put Longclaw down along with the torch and her weapons. She started making her way over to him.
"Is Orell right?" Ygritte asked. "Are you still a crow?"
She came closer, stripping her furs, "It's time you proved yourself."
Jon's eyes widened, realizing what she was doing, "Ygritte."
"You swore some vows," Ygritte murmured, removing her boots. "I want you to break 'em." Her outer layers came off, along with her smock. "I want you to see me." Finally, she took off her trousers. "All of me."
She stood there naked before him with much pride. She was thin and lean, some of her bones sticking out from the lack of nutrition the Free Folk have. And yet, she was beautiful in Jon's eyes. She smiled, seeing the struggle he was going through. This was her test to see if he was still a Crow or not. She wasn't one for traditions. Then again, Jon Snow did steal her along the mountains. Therefore, she was technically his wife, but she would not admit to that. She did not want to scare the poor boy more than he already was.
Ygritte walked closer to him, getting into his space.
"We shouldn't," Jon whispered.
"We should," she whispered back before claiming his lips.
Jon instantly kissed her back, only to pull away. But the girl kissed by fire did not falter as she continued to kiss him. This time, Jon kissed her again, timid but soon comfortable. His hands were wrapped around her form, feeling her waist. He moved down, kissing her neck, down to her chest and breasts, until he was on his knees kissing her sternum. Ygritte breathed heavily, unsure what he was doing. Her fingers were tangled in his dark locks.
"Why are you still dressed?" She asked while he kissed her fiery mons. "You know nothing, Jon Sno—"
She gasped as he parted her folds with his tongue and suckled her clit. She gasped, almost losing her bearings. Luckily, Jon held her up only to move one of her legs over his shoulder.
Well then…he does know some things, Ygritte thought.
.o0o.
They made love, although it confirmed to Ygritte that Jon Snow was indeed a virgin. As it was quick, he did some things to her that made her come. She came twice, one he did with his mouth and the second time inside her, as his hands touched her clit. They lay on their furs, recovering from their orgasms and resting. Although Ygritte, being a curious person, wanted to know how Jon Snow, a virgin, knew a few tricks.
She pressed against his form, resting her head on his shoulder. "That thing you did with your mouth—is that what lords do to their ladies in the South?"
Jon adjusted his form, wrapping his arm around her, "I don't know. I just wanted to kiss you, there is all."
"Hmm." She replied.
"You seemed to like it," he murmured.
"Aye, I liked it some," she agreed, tracing his chest and lips. "Who taught you that?"
Jon smiled, "There's been no one else. Only you."
"A maid," she smiled. "You were a maid."
Jon rolled his eyes, "I was a man of the Night's Watch. How about you? Were you a maid?"
She raised an eyebrow, "What do you think?"
"Who was he?" he grumbled, slightly jealous, his hand tracing over the spiral tattoo on her chest near her shoulder.
"Just a boy," she assured, now twiddling with the ends of his hair. "He came trading with his brothers. He had red hair like me. Kissed by fire. But . . . he was weak. Not like you." She kissed his shoulder, then added. "That was the first one."
Jon scoffed.
"Then there was this Thenn boy. Spoke no Common, but gods, he was built like a mammoth."
Jon cleared his throat, "Yeah, thanks. I think I've heard enough." He combed his fingers through her hair and cradled her cheek." We'd best get back. Tormund –"
Ygritte stopped him, straddling his waist, her core pressing against his member, "I'm not done with you yet."
She gave him a kiss, and he returned.
When they pulled back to breathe, she grinned, "How long's it been since you had a bath?"
Before Jon could answer, she jumped off him and leaped into the spring. Jon chuckled as he got up and joined her. They moved closer to one another in an embrace, kissing each other. She had rested her forehead against his when they needed to breathe.
"Let's not go back," she murmured. "Let's stay here a while longer. I don't ever want to leave this cave, Jon Snow. Not ever."
Jon cradled her cheek and looked into her blue eyes. He, too, did not want to leave this cave. Within a short period of time, he fell in love with the wildling. He was conflicted, for he was on a mission to return home, but at the same time, he was making a second home with Ygritte.
Not sure what else to do, he kissed her.
A little bit more about Imogen's relationship with Bloodraven.
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