Warg Maiden

Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones


Chapter 15: Mole's Town

Imogen's POV

We arrived at the border of Mole's Town by mid-day. All throughout, hiding amongst the tree lines. We watched as the Southerners lived out their day, unaware of the lingering threat. Styr thought we should charge in right now. Attack when they least expect it. However, Tormund disagreed. This was not a village or hamlet. This was a town. It was more populated than a simple village. They argued a bit until the Thenn Warg returned to his body.

"There are more women than men there, but half the town is asleep," the Warg said.

"We need a better advantage," Tormund muttered.

"Like what?" Styr challenged.

"Like…" Tormund paused as he thought about it until his eyes landed on me. "Someone on the inside."

"I am not warging," I told him.

"I didn't say anything about warging," Tormund said. "But last I checked, you don't wear simple clothes."

All eyes were on me. I sighed, knowing Tormund was not wrong. Under my furs was not a simple ragged smock. No, Dires still maintained our ancestors' customs during the Age of the First Men. I was the only Dire in the group. Sighing, I handed my things to Ygritte. I stripped off my weapons, followed by the furs, boots, and bottoms. Once the furs were off, I stood in my Dire attire. Wearing a leather patched tunic that went down to my midthigh fitted leggings. Around my neck was a torc made of gold and silver strands with wolf heads at the end. My arms were exposed, so all could see the tattoos the Children of the Forest left me. I had a woven shirt, but since climbing south of the Wall, it felt much warmer than wearing layers.

"Well, it seems there is meat on you after all," Styr taunted.

"Watch it," I growled.

"Good thing we stole this from the Old Man," Tormund said, going through the supplies to pull out a cloak.

I grabbed it, put it on, and draped it over my head to mask my hair due to not having the time to groom it properly in weeks. Anyway, I took one of the stolen horses and headed into town. The Thenn Warg warged into his owl as we entered Mole's town.

I kept my head low, observing the area. No one seemed to notice me. It was as if I were just a wanderer entering the small town. Then again, if what Mance says is true, they are used to strangers, especially Crows. The majority of Crows are criminals who would rather be sentenced to the Wall than take the punishment for their crimes. Back home, Lunar Haven held laws to keep the peace. Not many tribes have laws. Yet, Fenrir kept the laws our ancestors held before the Andal invasion. There shall always be violence in our cultures. It is how violence is being used to defy the type of person you'll be. We accept the consequences of our actions. But knowing that these crows are mainly cowards is shameful.

I scouted around, observing and counting the number of heads that wandered the streets. What disgusted me was seeing women providing their bodies for money. Men have a go and drop a coin in their hands. Not the way the Free Folk does it since intimacy is about pleasure, depending on each tribe, either be forced or given. Not a source of income.

As I scouted, I noticed a dozen or so crows wandering about. Let alone a building where a large gathering was. Getting off the horse, securing the mare before walking over. A patron opened the door, where I saw women half-dressed with men slouching around them drunk.

A place Tormund would love, I thought.

I stood there observing, seeing one table with three men wearing black clothes. One woman was belching a tune, one I hadn't heard before. Watching from a distance, I wonder why I was called a Wildling, a savage, when this room is filled with savage behavior. Men pounce on women in means of fucking. Pouring ale, not caring about wasting their natural resources. The sight disgusted me. How can my people be called savages? When the savages are in here?

Having enough, I walked out to give the call.

I did one more lap around the town, seeing the majority of the occupants inside. Those with family resting in their beds. When I found a safe location, I stared at Thenn Warg Owl, giving him a nod. He nodded back, sending the message. A few moments later, there was a man-made owl noise. I returned the message, saying the coast was clear.

And then it happened.

The others came in, slaughtering those who dared attack them. Some take torches and light the hays and stalls on fire. There was screaming from the Southerners. When the main group came over, I led the way to the brothel where the crows were being kept. Styr kicked down the door, slamming his ax on a crow's head. The whores screamed, trying to run away while the men and crows went for the attack while others attempted to collect the women.

Ygritte and I went upstairs to see the patrons and give them a long farewell. The women screamed, running away. We entered a room where a woman with a dagger charged in. Ygritte dodged, avoiding the woman's attack. The moment she was exposed, Ygritte took her spear and stabbed it in the woman's stomach, pinning her to the wall. The woman spat blood, falling to the ground. Ygritte stepped back, drawing her short sword, as one woman came to save her friend, only to be killed as well.

I stared at her to see if she was all right. Ygritte nodded, leading the way, when a soft cry caught our ear. We paused, listening for the source, and found it coming from a closet. I yanked the tarp open as Ygritte raised her sword. A second later, I stopped her; a young woman was holding a baby. She did not dress like the Southerners. It was the same materials and style as the Free Folk who lived closer to the wall. The same goes for the cloth that wrapped the babe. They were one of us. Somehow, they got south of the Wall.

The babe cried from all the chaos. I looked at Ygritte, who nodded. I leaned forward, which made the young mother tense. I stared into the babe's eyes, warging into the little one to fall asleep. This is a trick many Warg parents do when a child is stubborn or in a dire situation. The babe sighed, closed his eyes, falling asleep. When I pulled back, Ygritte placed a finger against her lips, warning the young mother not to make a sound. The mother nodded, keeping a hand over her mouth. We pulled back, shutting the tarp to keep her secured.

We then went back to the raid. The floors were soaked in blood, seeping through the cracks and dripping down to the next level. The raid continued all through the night. Killing the men and taking the rest of the community in one location, locking them there.

When dawn broke, we scavenged for supplies. In the town square, there were three crows left. They were tied to a pillar. Styr and Tormund talked amongst one another. Until Styr came over.

"Nice work, crows, you have found the Wildlings," Styr taunted, yanking on a crow's fur cloak.

Our men laughed at the taunt.

"The Night's Watch will stop you," The Youngest Crow said, appearing to be seventeen.

"Stop me?" Styr gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "They invited us."

He grabbed the young crow by the neck and lifted him in the air, "By building this Wall, you challenged our strength. Well, I'm here to play your game."

As he lifted his ax towards the young crow's neck.

"Styr," I warned him.

Styr turned around; he came over to me, towering over me. I glared into his eyes, not intimidated by him. He may be a magnar, but I am a Chieftain's daughter. I have not forgotten the Thenns' attempt in searching for Lunar Haven. I know the story of the duel between Fenrir and Styr. How my father defeated him and spared his life.

"I think you are forgetting your place," he murmured.

"I am a Dire," I told him.

"But you are also a Spearwife," he reminded me.

He then went over to the Older Crow, grabbed his head, and said, "Do you know who she is?"

The Older Crow shook his head.

"She is what your men call The Wildling Huntress. She has been traveling around the True North, serving Mance to get more forces. Killing Wights along the way. She even tried to help you, crows, yet you try to kill her. Try to rape her when she was lending a hand."

The Older Crow, realizing who I was, spat at me. My control snapped as I came forward and punched him in the face. When I stepped back, two Thenns came over, ripping the Older Crow's tunic.

"We fled south in what you call stories," Styr murmured.

Styr looked at Tormund, gesturing to him to cut the man free. He did so. Now I see what was happening. They were testing me. They wanted to make sure I was one of them. They knew I was with the Three-Eyed Raven and had seen all Westeros cultures throughout history. Styr took hold of Dark Sister.

"Prove that you are one of us," Styr said. "Fight like a spearwife."

He then faced the Older Crow, "If you beat her, then you can run for your life."

A spear was shoved in my hand, and I took off my cloak. The three crows were shocked to see the tattoos on my arms. Tormund tossed a short sword to the Older Crow. He grabbed it while glaring at me. He appeared middle-aged, with cropped black and white hair.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" He bellowed. " Do you fear me?"

I glared at him, "Why did you become a crow?"

He scoffed, "Why do you care?"

I adjusted my spear, "Why did you become a crow?"

"He was a murderer," one of his brothers shouted. "Kegs killed a farmer and raped his wife."

I nodded; by Dire Laws, this man was to be sentenced to death.

"Let's see what you are made of, she-wolf," Kegs taunted.

I got into a protective dance. Kegs lunged forward, and I leaned towards his stomach. He dodged, swinging the sword to redirect it. Next, he struck forward, which I blocked, and struck again. Back and forth we went. I had the upper hand but was toying with him. Waiting for the moment, he lost too much energy and his balance. Kegs attacked again; I sidestepped, kicking the man down.

"Come on, Imogen!" Ygritte called out while the others cheered.

I spun the spear, striking down, but he rolled away in time. He swung his blade as he stood, only I stepped back. Using the blunt end, I struck him in the face. He stumbled back as I shot forward. He swayed, trying to avoid the spear tip. I spun the blade, smacking him across the head again, knocking him down.

He recovered quickly as he blocked another attack and lunged forward. I turn, yet the blade slices across my arm. I kneed him in the face, and a crunching noise could be heard as I broke his nose. I stepped back, seeing a cut on my right arm.

Kegs stumbled back, falling into Tormund. Tormund picked him up and tossed him over. Kegs fell onto his knees. Having enough of these games, I went for the attack. He blindly swung his sword, desperately trying to block each attack. As I spun to make an attack, he stood up, charged forward, and head-butted me in the face. The impact stunned me, and I stumbled backward. The taste of blood in my mouth, realizing I busted a lip.

Kegs hacked his way with the sword. I crawled back, barely escaping the attack. The moment he struck again, I kicked him in the leg, knocking him over, and did another kick to his face. Taking this opportunity, I got up. He did as well, charging at me. I grabbed him by his arm and used his weight to toss him over my body. Quickly, I grabbed the spear as he did with his sword.

It was clear this man had not been to battle. He was no ranger. He was one of those men hiding in Castle Black, unlike the duel I had with Jon at the Windmill. Exhaustion filled Kegs as he blindly swung the sword. I dodged with ease. There was so much hate between us. The separation that the Wall has made on our kind.

Having enough, I twirled the spear and slashed it across his stomach. That stunned Kegs as he stood there. I slashed him again across the chest and stabbed him in the knee. He fell on his knees, hunching forward in defeat as he looked me in the eyes. Those brown eyes. I could see his soul. The guilt he held for many years. Ultimately, it cannot save him from the wrongs his brothers have done to my people.

Ending this duel once and for all, I penetrated the spear into his chest. Directly into his heart. He gasped, looking down at where the spearhead struck him. Blood seeped out of his mouth as he looked at me. Stepping back and letting go of the spear, I gave a battle cry. The Free Folk joined in as well, honoring the duel. The Older Crow passed, falling to the ground dead.

I panted, wiping the blood off my chin. Styr came over, cutting the other two crows free.

"Go! Tell your Lord Commander to send his strongest men," Styr grinned. "We're ready."

The two crows stumbled as they got up and started running back to Castle Black. He scratched his chin and looked at Ygritte.

"How many men does it take to deliver a message?" Styr asked.

Ygritte locked in an arrow and aimed her bow, "One."

Then fired, killing another crow.

The youngest who challenged us ran for his life.

Styr came over, and he rested a hand on my shoulder.

"A she-wolf indeed."

A caw caught my attention as I stared at a building where a raven was perched. His beady eyes stare deep at me as if staring into my soul. It was the Three-Eyed Raven. This duel confirmed the separation between us. He was an observer, and I was a fighter. Our paths separated, never to return.

.o0o.

Castle Black

Jon was with his friends in the mass hall, grasping the news Brother Halder had reported. How he and a dozen of them snuck off to Moles Town to have their way with the whores. The wildlings attacked in the middle of the night, killing the men and women. Locking the survivors in a building while burning other buildings. By dawn, only three remained. A Thenn covered in scars challenged them. Kegs had taken the bait as he fought the Wildling Huntress. Kegs lost his life while Mully and Halder ran for theirs. Only Mully was killed when a wildling woman with red hair shot him.

Jon tensed, knowing it was Ygritte.

Everyone in Castle Black had mixed emotions. Grenn was pacing back and forth. Edd was leaning against a column. Jon, Pyp, and Sam were sitting down. Sam was in tears. A few weeks ago, he had dropped Gilly at Moles Town for her and Little Sam's protection. Many of the Night's Watch were eyeing Gilly, thinking they could have their way with her, despite the fact that she was under Maester Aemon's protection.

Women are not supposed to be in Castle Black. The only time men see a woman is when they are helping their fathers deliver orders or, on the rarest occasion, are lost. When that does happen, Jeor Mormont will let the woman stay for the night before being escorted to Mole's Town to find transportation or back to her farm. However, Mormont is gone now.

"I should never have left her there," Sam mumbled.

"You couldn't have known," Jon tried to comfort his friend.

"Of course I could've known," Sam disagreed. "They've been raiding the villages close by."

"And we just cower in here while they slaughter our brothers," Grenn growled, still pacing.

"Our brothers had an order to stay at Castle Black," Edd reminded.

"Oh, so it's all right, then?" Grenn bellowed. " Black Jack and Kegs and Mully chopped to pieces 'cause they broke the rules?"

"I didn't say it was all right," Edd countered, arms crossed. "I'm saying they shouldn't have been there along with the others."

"We're pledged to guard the realms of men," Grenn growled.

"She's dead because of me," Sam mumbled.

"We can't even guard Mole's Town," Grenn continued.

"We can't go after them. You know that," Jon tried to speak reason. "It's what they want."

Grenn took a deep breath, resting his hands on the table.

"And Little Sam," Sam wallowed. " As if I cut their throats myself."

"Maybe she managed to hide herself," Pyp tried to help. "Halder did say they locked the women and children in a building. She could be safe. I thought all of you were dead. You went north with Mormont, and no one came back. Not for ages. But then you did."

They were silent for a moment, grasping Pyp's words.

"She survived Craster, and he was the worst shit I've ever met," Edd said. "She survived the long march to the Wall. She survived a White Walker, for fuck's sake. She might have got out."

Sam took a moment and nodded, "She might have."

Jon then realized something, "If they hit Mole's Town, then we're next. Mance and his army must be close."

"A hundred thousand of them," Grenn added. "And there's what, a hundred and thiry of us left?"

"Yu counting Black Jack, Kegs, and Mully?" Edd replied. "A hundred and twenty-seven."

"How do a hundred and twenty-seven men stop a hundred thousand?" Pyp asked.

Jon bit his lip, not sure.

Edd pushed himself off the column and came over to the table, pouring himself a cup of ale. "Whoever dies last, be a good lad and burn the rest of us. Once I'm done with this world, I don't want to come back."

Everyone poured themselves a drink and agreed on it.


The duel between Imogen and Kegs was inspired by the movie Centurion. Styr talking to the Three Crows was inspired by Mulan. Quarantine and binge watching can have a lot of inspiration.

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