Warg Maiden

Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

A/N: I decided not to write about what happens at the top of the Wall. Basically, it is the same thing that happens in the show. So, this chapter will focus on the ground level. Sorry, guys. I've been struggling with this chapter, and it felt easier to focus on the Castle Level, not the Wall level. Also, there is a plot twist at the end.


Chapter 17: Battle of Castle Black

Imogen's POV

My dirk was pressed against my neck. I gasped, staring at the man who had managed to take hold of my dagger and force it to my jugular. A sharp snap of metal could be heard from the breakage of the torc. Dark eyes widen, our bodies in shock. Jon stood there, Longclaw in his hand, Dark Sister was on the ground, and our free hands were locked on the dirk.

So many emotions have stirred between us. The battle has taken most of the night, and dawn has yet to approach. All around us was death. The Free Folk only wanted to survive. We just wanted to cross the Wall. It was the only thing that separated the Living from the Dead. Why can't the Crows see that? Jon experienced the Wights and witnessed a White Walker. So, he should know better.

But the death of someone we cherished has led us to this moment.

Jon had the upper hand to kill me this second.

Just one jerk of his hand and death shall bleed out.

How did we get here?

We had the upper hand!

How could this happen…

.o0o.

Moments earlier…

I stared through Frigg's eyes and saw Mance's signal. When he said the greatest fire the North has ever seen, he wasn't kidding. As a massive bonfire consumed a part of the Haunted Forest. I turned to the Thenn Warg. I nodded to him to inform the others while I soared over to the forest. I landed on Mance's shoulder. He looked at me, please.

"Are the others near?" Mance asked.

I nodded.

"Good," Mance said. "If the numbers are correct. Then we should conquer Castle Black before dawn."

I nodded before glancing at Fenrir, who had Valko and Skadi by his side. I was glad to see that Skadi reunited with the pack because I didn't want her to be alone in the Haunted Forest, especially when Jon and the crows knew she was nearby. It also meant that Craster's daughter and wives were safe with the others. Right now, a hundred thousand warriors of men and women were here, while those who were not able to fight were somewhere safe.

"The others are with the Dire Clan far west from here," Fenrir reported. "We will get them once we cross the Wall."

I nodded before returning to my body. When I opened my eyes, I saw many of the Free Folk standing up to see the burning atmosphere that had turned the dark sky into an inferno of orange and purple.

"It's time," the Thenn warg reported.

"The army awaits," I added. "The others are several miles away from the battle."

"Good, can't take the risk," Tormund said, then looked at Ygritte. "Go check the South Gate."

Ygritte nodded as she filled her quiver and quietly went to scout ahead. At least that will give her some space from Styr. The Magnar watched her leave before turning to Tormund and me. He held a serious expression.

"Little Crow is dead either way," Styr promised.

Tormund raised his horn, "To the fighter who kills the baby crow."

Styr nodded as both men took a drink. I rolled my eyes. Jon Snow had a chance to survive this invasion if only he had stayed faithful to Ygritte. If he wanted to make peace, he could have helped open the Wall's gates. We don't seek war. All we want is to survive and separate the Living from the Dead. There was a saying that Bloodraven told me.

Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling …it's all the same. If you have to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all.

If only the Southerners knew of the two evils. They consider us Wildlings to be evil. If only they knew the greater evil of the White Walkers and not made them out to be stories. Along with the saying, seeing is believing. The Southerners are narrow-minded. Especially those born in the North that forgot their true heritage. But we, Free Folk, are the direct bloodline of the First Men. We are descended from the Sealgaireans. Men and women hunted down the Others so mankind could survive without fear. No longer a child to be cold and starving in a winter that lasted a generation. A mother doesn't need to fear if her babe will die and not see the spring. A man can provide for his family instead of having a weapon in hand.

It would be a while when Ygritte returned with the news.

.o0o.

Ygritte's POV

The Spearwife hid behind a boulder with a view of the South Gate. She could see two men at the gatehouse. One was a chubby crow, while another with a torch was passing through. There were many openings that her comrades could climb over. When their archers got near, they could shoot them down. It surprised her that there were not many crows at the South Gate. She wondered if they were up on the Wall.

Staying low, Ygritte made her way back to her people. They all gathered around with their weapons in hand for the upcoming battle. There were a hundred and fifty of them. This should be an easy capture with many of the crows up on the Wall. She carefully ran down the hill to join them with the report.

"Most of their men are up top," Ygritte said. "Didn't count more than twenty down here. Leftovers. They got a big fat one and a little bony one manning the front."

This caught Imogen's attention, "Save the fat one for me. He has something I need."

"And what's that?" Styr asked.

"He has Joramun's Horn," Imogen answered. "I saw it when I was warging a few months ago."

Tension rises, for they all knew the legend of Joramun's Horn. Styr nodded since if anyone dared blow on the Horn, the Wall would crumble, and no one would be safe from the Others.

"How high are the walls?" Styr asked Ygritte.

"Well, we'll be up and over before they know what's happened," Ygritte answered with a lofty attitude.

Styr grabbed his ax, "Let's kill some crows!"

Everyone cheered as they followed Styr. Imogen came over to Ygritte, resting a hand on her shoulder. She placed her hand on Imogen's.

"Stay safe," Imogen murmured.

"Same to ya," Ygritte replied.

They rested their foreheads together. Ygritte, being Ygritte, planted a peck on Imogen's lips. The She-wolf scoffed, rolling her eyes while trying to ignore the blush. The Dire took her wolf mask, covering her face from embarrassment. Ygritte laughed though sighed. She knows that Jon will be there once they infiltrate the gate. After many weeks, she will have to kill her lover. Yet a part of her wanted to grab Jon and run south. But could she abandon her people? Most of all, can she leave her sister?

"Come on!" Tormund sang, pouring a bucket of water on the fire.

Ygritte sighed, grabbing her extra quiver of arrows as she started climbing up for the attack. This battle will be over within an hour, give or take. With weapons in hand, the Free Folk ran through the Kingsroad.

The sound of a horn being blown twice every other moment pierced through the frigid air. When a new horn tone is louder and more precise on the ground level, it indicates their arrival. Tormund and Styr were in the lead, running faster than their attire gave them. The Crows at the gate began firing arrows, ones covered in fire. A few of their comrades went down, but the furs of their clothes managed to prevent it; if not, some of them blew out.

Ygritte grabbed the missed arrows and began firing at the bridge. Other archers did the same, firing at the crows while the other Free Folk gathered at the gate, pushing their way through the barricade. Meanwhile, others were getting in the blind zone, trying to climb up the fifteen, maybe twenty-foot-tall wall. Grappling hooks were pulled out and tied with rope as they attempted to throw it onto the other side. In retaliation, the crows dropped large rocks on them. Several Free Folks pulled out wooden shields protecting their comrades' heads as they took a log and used it as a battering ram.

The spearwife shot down another crow and made her way over. She needed to get inside and find Jon, at least before Tormund or Styr got to him. When she got through, she could see Tormund had gotten a grappling hook over and was climbing up. It wasn't long before the gate burst open, and her people stormed in.

Now the battle begins.

Everywhere she went, she fired arrows, shooting at crows who came too close to her and her comrades. She looked everywhere for Jon, yet he was nowhere to be seen. She concluded that Jon was on top of the Wall. If he was wise, he should remain there. Then again, one of their objectives was to destroy the lift, trapping the crows there.

Suddenly, a gigantic arrow landed in the middle of the courtyard with a crow already impaled. Ygritte nodded, impressed. Needing to praise the giant who shot that arrow.

Later, she noticed the little bony crow from earlier. He had fired and killed one of her comrades. The Crow knelt down, hiding behind the battlement with a crossbow. Ygritte nocked an arrow and aimed, waiting for him to pop up. The moment he did, she fired, getting the bony crow in the neck. She intended for the eye so the bony crow could have a quick death.

In the end, the crow was a dead crow.

.o0o.

Imogen's POV

I got through one of the inner curtains of Castle Black. Everywhere I went, I was killing Crows or mortally injuring them. I need to find the Crow named Samwell Tarly. He has the Horn of Joramun. I need to find that horn before it is accidentally blown by mortal lips or into the wrong hands of the Night King. If the Night King gets hold of the Horn, the Wall will be no more, and Westeros will have a Second Long Night. One that will last longer than a generation.

Three Crows stood there, staring at me. We were in such tight quarters that they couldn't come at me altogether. I smirked under my mask. One, being the bravest, charged at me. Clearly, this man was not trained with a sword, as he charged at me, doing a big full swing. Adjusting Dark Sister to a reverse grip upward sweep to deflect it. The impact knocks the Crow's sword backward. I came in with a slash across the gut that had him fall to his knees. I grabbed the blunt area of my sword, doing a double-handed stab into the Crow's face. I stopped to stare at the two remaining crows, whose eyes widened in horror. Ripping the Valyrian sword out, causing blood and brain matter to splatter. The dead crow falls to the ground.

The two crows stare at each other and then back at me before running away.

I snorted, "Wise decision."

I ran through the inner curtains, trying to find the Fat Crow. Only to stumble onto Tormund's duel. He was fighting Alliser Thorne. Tormund's fighting style was a straight attack with intimidation of growling and shouts. Based on Alliser's form, he was more experienced in swordsmanship as he parried Tormund's attack. As the Head Crow thrusts over, Tormund steps back, blocking each attack.

They were everywhere, as Alliser tried to use the beams and rails to separate at the same time, tangling Tormund. Alliser tried to swing downward, and Tormund somersaulted away from the strike. Alliser attempted another attack, but Tormund grabbed Alliser's sword hand and slashed at the crow's waist, getting him good. Alliser groans as his hand covers the wound. Tormund got up, growling like a bear hacking away at Alliser's sword, causing the crow to fall to his knees. Two more strikes and Alliser fell off the inner curtain. Tormund leaned over as I ran by his side, seeing Alliser still alive, being dragged by his men.

"Hold the fucking gate!" Alliser bellowed. "Hold it!"

More crows came at us as Tormund and I fought them off. Based on what we saw, we were in the lead. Crows guarding the castle and gate were dropping like flies. It is shocking since when Bloodraven was Lord Commander, he told me every brother was trained to his standard. The Night's Watch has become sloppy over a century. Then again, the majority of these crows were from villages or criminals. Not trained in armies, Masters of Arms, or even a knight.

At this rate, Castle Black will belong to the Free Folk.

All we need to do is destroy the lift and open the inner gate.

.o0o.

Jon and Ygritte's POV

Jon stared below, seeing two giants, a wooly mammoth, and half a dozen wildlings at the inner gate. They had managed to destroy the wooden gate and tie off the metal gate. The Mammoth pulled at the rope, obeying its master as he did the same, holding another rope pulling as well. Jon already sent Grenn with five other men to guard the inner gate in case he and the others couldn't stop them from above.

He and his brothers moved a ramp to be directly above the gate. They loaded it with pitch and ignited the fabric. Edd pulled the lever, allowing the three barrels of pitch to fall. Edd and Jon looked down, watching, seeing three explosions. The Wildlings were on fire as the Mammoth's fur caught flame, causing the beast to run away and making the chain and rope snap. One giant went after the beast. However, a brother was at a ballista, aiming it at the giant before firing, killing the gigantic man. The second giant roared, pounding his fist into the iron gate before mustering all his strength to lift it.

At the same time, there was an explosion on the Wall. Jon's eyes widened, assuming a cork came undone while the wick was on fire. The blast sent debris everywhere, tossing a brother who held an archer harness, which had the man fall to his death.

Jon cursed, trying to figure out another plan.

That was when he heard footsteps on the platform. Jon glanced over his shoulder to see Sam.

"What are you doing up here?" Jon yelled, not out of anger, but all the commotion made it impossible to hear clearly.

"The wildlings are over the walls," Sam reported. "Ser Alliser's fallen. The castle won't stand much longer."

Jon contemplated this. If the Wildlings take over the ground level, they can destroy the lift, and all of those who are on Wall duty would be trapped. The top of the Wall is not stable across the North. It would be a dangerous week before they reach another castle with a ramp and staircase rotten from lack of care. Not having much of a choice, Jon made his decision.

"Edd, you have the Wall," Jon ordered.

Edd looked at him as if he was crazy.

Jon placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave instructions: "If they try the mammoths again, drop fire on them. If the climbers get too high, drop the scythe on them."

Jon headed towards the lift with nothing else to say, taking ten more men. He grabbed Longclaw, shouting out, "Come, brothers. Now fight with me!"

In the distance, Jon could hear Edd yell, "Might as well enjoy our last night, right, boys? Light the fuckers up!"

Once in the lift, it would be five or so minutes before they reached the bottom. Many thoughts were lingering in his head. Jon knew he would have to face his demons. There is a chance he might have to fight Tormund or Imogen. But the one person he doesn't want to fight is Ygritte. They were both in a life-and-death situation. The Wildlings may have spared the women and children in the towns and villages; however, they have a vendetta to slaughter every crow.

"I don't want you out there," Jon told Sam.

"You can't protect me forever," Sam argued. "There won't be anywhere to hide if the castle falls."

Jon handed Sam a key. The key to Ghost's stall. Sam realized this as he took it. Jon gave an apologetic look to his best friend. Between Ghost and Sam, in this situation, he'd rather choose the Direwolf.

"I need him more than I need you," Jon explained.

Sam nodded in agreement.

Becoming impatient. Jon opened the door and jumped out. He landed roughly on his feet and had to roll down before getting back up. A wildling came charging over. Jon ducked while slashing the intruder in the stomach, killing him instantly. Longclaws Valyrian Steel slicing through the furs and flesh. Two more came forward as Jon fought them off, giving time for his brothers to reach the bottom safely. Once they were down, Jon ran down the steps, fighting his way through to the courtyard.

Everywhere you looked, there was chaos, as the Wildings had the upper hand. He could see Imogen and Tormund storming the inner curtain while Ygritte was nowhere in sight. Jon ended up fighting two men who had spears if it was difficult, until his furry brother came in, tackling one that allowed Jon to kill the other.

That was when a Thenn came after him with a battle ax.

Ygritte spotted Jon as he was fighting with Styr. The magnar towered over him by two feet. She searched for a spot, drawing her bow with an arrow ready. She aimed it at the two, yet she couldn't fire. Her heart flutters when she sees Jon. A part of her wanted to kill him, but simultaneously, she wanted to kill Styr and spare Jon. Instead, she stood there, covered, watching the two.

Meanwhile, Jon and Styr continued to fight. Jon noted that the Thenn was stronger. He tried to aim Longclaw at the Wildling's hand, except the Thenn would slide the pole of the axe down, deflecting it. It wasn't until the curve of the ax caught the sword that Styr tossed Longclaw out of Jon's hand. Jon's eyes widened, not expecting it. Followed by a punch in the face. Jon stumbled backward, able to miss the attack Styr did.

Styr was hacking away, chopping, and slashing at Jon. All he could do was dodge and try to grab a weapon. But Styr was fast despite his size. Jon dodged again as Styr's axe chopped down a weapons shelf. Jon managed to grab some chains, using them like a whip, tossing at Styr's face to deflect and block the ax movement. Styr growled, shouting from the top of his lungs, swinging down while Jon used the chains to smack Styr's hand. The impact caused the Thenn to let go. But Styr wrapped his arm around Jon's neck and started punching the bastard in the stomach repeatedly.

Suddenly, Styr grabbed the back of his neck and slammed Jon's face onto an anvil. A crunch could be heard as the world spun around Jon while spitting blood. Styr then tossed Jon onto the forge. The flames startled Jon back to his senses as he rolled onto his back and out of the fire pit. Styr ran around, grabbed Jon again, and pinned him to a post. Jon spat at Styr's face, punching and grabbing what he could to escape. Jon randomly grabbed a hammer, kicking Styr in the crotch, making the Thenn hunch over. Jon took that opportunity and slammed the pointed end of the hammer into Styr's skull. The impact went deep, and blood squirted out, and the Thenn looked at him wide-eyed before falling.

Jon gasped, leaning against the post while spitting out blood. He wiped his hand over his mouth. He took a few more deep breaths and got up to find his sword. A pull of a drawstring caught his attention. He looked up, seeing Ygritte being fifteen feet away from him with an arrow aimed at his head.

For some reason, Jon couldn't help but smile. Glad to see she was still alive.

Meanwhile, Ygritte was conflicted. She had Jon in her sight. Here was her chance to kill him and get revenge for his betrayal, but she couldn't. She loved him dearly. He was hers as she was his. When he smiled, it melted her heart. Maybe they could escape before their comrades' notice if she convinced him to leave. There was a silent agreement between them, as Jon could read it in her eyes.

Just as Ygritte loosened her hold on the string and lowered the bow, she gasped. A sharp, seething pain went through the middle of her upper back and through her chest. She looked down and saw five inches of an arrow protruding from her. Immediately, the feeling of drowning filled her lungs as she fell to her knees.

Jon gasped, staring at the direction the arrow came from, none other than Olly. The young boy nodded to Jon, trying to say you're welcome. Olly had no idea what he had done since the boy only saw a wildling aiming at his friend.

Instantly, Jon ran over to Ygritte, holding her in his arms. His throat clenched and eyes wide, assessing the wound. What he saw, he dreaded. The arrow didn't go through the shoulder. No, it was a direct kill through the heart.

"Jon Snow," Ygritte whispered.

"Hush," Jon told her. "Don't talk."

"Do you remember the cave?" she asked.

Jon nodded.

"We should have stayed in the cave," she whispered.

Jon's throat constricted as he mustered, "We'll go back there."

Ygritte struggled to breathe. Taking as many deep breaths as she could, yet they were ragged. Her last words to her lover were, "You know nothing, Jon Snow."

Blue eyes focused on him as Ygritte wanted to remember his face in death. Jon, on the other hand, watched the life leave her eyes. Her face felt numb, and the last breath of air abandoned her lips. Jon's lips trembled as he rested his forehead against Ygritte, holding onto her. The world seemed to slow down in the chaos they lived in.

Until he heard a desperate shriek.

"Ygritte!"

.o0o.

Imogen's POV

The battle was dwindling, and the crows were losing. Through the chaos, I noticed that Styr and the Warg Thenn were no longer in sight. I can only assume they were dead. Tormund was still fighting in the inner curtain of the castle's battlements. Give it another hour, and the battle will be done. That was when I noticed one person was missing.

Where is Ygritte? I thought.

I ran around searching for my best friend, calling out her name. I looked everywhere until I came to the blacksmith's forge and saw Jon on the ground, holding someone in his arms. As I grew closer, I saw the fiery red hair. I felt like someone had punched me in the chest.

"Ygritte!"

No…no…NO!

The spearwife did not move in Jon's arms. Fearing the worst, I ran over, pushing Jon away as I held Ygritte in my arms. She wasn't moving. Her eyes were closed, and her mouth was slightly open. There was no indication of life. I shook her.

"Ygritte," I called out. "Ygritte!"

There was no response. My eyes watered, feeling my throat tighten. I held my best friend, my sister, in my arms. Ygritte was dead. Killed by an arrow.

"Ygritte!" I bellowed.

Footsteps approached me. I looked up, staring at Jon. His eyes were watery since he, too, had lost a lover. However, he didn't understand the pain. Jon betrayed Ygritte back at the mill. He never stopped to consider our way of life. He is a crow instead of helping the world of men. He served the Southerners instead of those who needed protection.

"I'm sorry," Jon apologized.

"Sorry," I seethed, carefully putting Ygritte down and standing up. "You're not sorry. There are two lesser evils, and you chose one."

"Leave Castle Black," Jon offered. "It's not too late."

I got into position with Dark Sister at the ready.

"If we cross swords," Jon warned, stepping away. Until he stepped on something. He knelt, picking up Longclaw.

"I won't be able to stop," I seethed, stepping forward.

I charged at him, doing a thrust to his head, which Jon stepped back with a lean to avoid the blade. I continued the attack. Only Jon was dodging every move. As the tip of Dark Sister almost got him in the shoulder. Doing another forward thrust that Jon blocked. Both Valyrian swords collided, which made sparks fly. The impact caused me to spin, leaving me exposed, yet Jon didn't take the opportunity.

Furious, I used the spin to strike again at his face. Jon instantly blocks our blades crossed over his shoulder. I spin again, putting the guard down position, aiming for his leg. Once more, Jon managed to block it with a reverse grip. I was about to reach for my dirk. Jon noticed this as he withdrew, stepping back. He came down for a strike, and I lifted the sword to block. The strike was so hard that I went into a defensive position, spinning and doing a semi-block.

Our swords clash, causing a massive spark. Jon tried to use his strength, pushing me forward and knocking me off balance. He used too much momentum, leaving him exposed, so I spun again about to get him in the torso, except he managed to block it. I jumped back, trying not to expose myself, and thrust again. And as predicted, he blocked again. Only once did he attack me. Throughout the ordeal, he used blocks and avoidance. It was getting on my nerves that he was not fighting. There were moments I left myself open, and he did nothing.

Suddenly, Jon struck me with a backhand across the face. There was a chance for him to decapitate me; instead, he slapped me. Jon grabbed my dominant hand as our blades crossed. He pushed me forward, pinning me to a wall. Dark Sister was across my chest while Longclaw, still crossed, was near my ear. If Jon exerts enough force, he has a chance to kill me.

Instead, he keeps me pinned. I glared at him in the bind we were in.

"They abandoned me just as they abandoned you," I seethed, trying to manipulate his emotions. "We're not so different."

Jon paused, hesitating.

I took this moment to draw out my dirk and stabbed him in the hip. Jon groaned, placing his left hand on the dirk. His strength weakened, allowing me to kick him off of me. At the same time, I leveraged my sword along with his, got it caught on the cross-guard, and threw him off. I thrust again and he blocked once more. The fight continues with strikes and parries. His back was open, so I went to strike. Jon spins his sword back on the flat while striking him. The steel absorbed the impact, yet the upper part cut the leather armor protecting him.

Jon glared at me as I glared back. I took the opportunity to force the back of my left hand, pushing him down. Jon stumbled, falling to the ground. I strike down, about to stab him in the chest. Jon gasped, rolling to the side. He got up, putting some distance between us.

Our fight continued. The conflict is never-ending as I try to reach for all his exposed openings with the dagger while our swords collide. I'm starting to have enough of this stupid game. I managed to nick his hand. That finally got Jon to fight back. He thrust forward, and I pushed it aside with my dagger. Only Jon did a strike, bringing a heavy downward strike with an underhand grip. I took several steps back to avoid it, with Dark Sister across me to block it just in case.

It was a frenzy of strikes and blocks. Pushing swords away and seeking an opening. I haven't seen this energy since practicing with Bloodraven. Exhaustion was building up. The battle was dying down around us. Impossible to tell who was winning. Then, all of a sudden, a horn was heard, followed by the trotting of horses from the south gate. Jon and I were locked in a downward position. He did something unexpected and grabbed hold of the blunt region of Dark Sister, yanking it out of my hand. I stepped back; eyes widened, seeing Longclaw aimed at my neck.

Men on horses trampled around my brothers and sisters. They held a banner of a black shield with a strip across that contained silver and gold squares. I glared at Jon, who panted as he held Longclaw at me. Jon glared back as his eyes told me it was over. He had his grip from an underhand before adjusting it to properly hold, making distance before lowering it.

I switched the dagger and went for the attack.

In seconds, Jon had Longclaw's flat side pressed against my chest while his left hand restrained my right, twisting my wrist that held the dagger, pressing the blade against my neck. A slight clang could be heard as the dirk was pressed hard along the torc, preventing the kill. Jon panted, realizing what he had done. Any further, and I will be dead.

He stared at the torc, seeing the wolf's ends. Dark eyes lingered on my neck, staring at the direwolf tattoo of my family. The reminder of who my ancestors were. His eyes widened, staring at me. I growl at him. I was about to attack him when he dropped the knife, maneuvering us around so that his arm was around my neck. My wolf mask falling off. I tried to fight him off, but he kept a tight hold around my neck, suppressing the air out of my lungs.

I tried to fight him, yet the air slipped from my lungs with black spots until falling unconscious.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon panted as Imogen went limp in his arms. He collapsed on his knees, checking the Wildling's condition. Thankful that he found her unconscious and not dead. At first, he tried to explain reason. When he realized she would not yield, he went for the attack. He had her until her sneak attack. A moment to kill her. That is until he saw her torc and her tattoo.

Why does a wildling have the Stark crest on her? Jon thought.

He panted as two of his brothers came over.

"Take her to the storage room and tie her up," Jon ordered. "Make sure there are no living animals in there."

His two brothers nodded as they took Imogen's arms and dragged her away. Jon stood up, sheathing Longclaw before collecting Dark Sister. There was a commotion by one of the courtyards as Jon came over to investigate. Based on the banner, the men who arrived at the last moment were from House Overton. They were the nearest House to the Wall. They must have seen the signal and heard the horn to come in the nick of time.

Anyway, Jon came closer to see there was another survivor. Jon was not surprised to see it was Tormund. The Wildling had a few arrows in his back while blood dripped down his face. Tormund held a sword, wildly swinging it around while the Night's Watch surrounded him with swords and crossbows.

"Tormund," Jon called out tiredly. "It's over. Let it end."

"This is how a man ends," Tormund growled as he attacked another brother with a sword.

Jon, having enough, took a crossbow from Gared Tuttle. He aimed it at Tormund, getting him in the thigh. Tormund tried to stand up, but Jon came over, kicking him down. The Wildling looked at him, surprised.

"Put him in chains," Jon ordered. "We'll question him and the Warg later."

Two brothers grabbed Tormund by the arms, dragging him away.

Tormund glared at Jon, "I should have thrown you ... from the top of the Wall, boy!"

Jon turned around and walked over to the riders who had come at the last minute. He handed over the crossbow to Gared. "Aye," Jon sighed as he continued to walk. "You should have."

One of the riders got off his horse and removed his helm. The man was middle-aged, with a beard and mustache. He had curly dark brown hair with silver strands scattered around, dark brown eyes, and bushy brows.

"Lord Overton," Jon greeted.

Lord Overton paused, staring at Jon, giving him a slight smile, "Jon, I didn't expect you to be here."

"Neither I to you," Jon replied.

"Sorry for the poor timing," Lord Overton said. "We received a raven from Maester Aemon and came as soon as possible."

Jon nodded slightly since Overton Keep was twenty or so miles south of Castle Black. The riders must have the road nonstop to be here at this very moment. The wildlings had the upper hand until Overton's men arrived, trampling the enemy down.

"The fact you made it with your men is enough," Jon assured.

Lord Overton nodded, "Get some rest, boy. There are more Wildlings to come."

Jon nodded, but after losing Ygritte tonight, he couldn't, not yet. Not wanting her body to be mistreated. He has lost brothers, and he lost the woman he loved. This battle needs to end before more lives are lost.


This chapter was a massive headache for a week, maybe two. I hope you guys enjoy it. House Overton was mentioned in the ASOIAF. There is no mention of characters in the books or where they are. So, I considered making House Overton a noble family living near the Wall. If some towns and villages live near the Wall, there should also be a noble to live by. Not just House Umber.

Inspiration on some fight scenes for Imogen is inspired by The Witcher

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!

Updated!