Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Chapter 48: Departure

Jon's POV

Jon could barely sleep last night. He spent his time thinking, wondering if he was doing the right thing. He was asking Daenerys Targaryen for help to save the North. How can three dragons and a horde of Dothraki even beat the odds? However, history holds a stigma, as Sansa keeps reminding him. How the Mad King tortured their grandfather and uncle.

It didn't help when sleep did come that he had dreamt of that situation. Only it was Ned being dangled over the pit of green flame. At the same time, Robb was tied up, hands were chained behind his back, and a leather cord was wrapped around his neck, attached to adevice that would tighten the cord as it was pulled on. However, his legs were free, and Ice was placed just beyond his reach.

That startled Jon to wake, as cold sweat covered his skin while he placed his hand over his neck. As if he, too, was being strangled. Once he caught his breath, he grabbed his hair, cursing himself. Out of all the nightmares, it had to be that. A soft whimper could be heard as Ghost was woken by the fireplace. The white direwolf came over and then rested on Jon's lap. Jon sighed as he petted Ghost.

After some time, Jon was able to relax.

"What am I going to do?" Jon asked.

Ghost's red eyes stared at him with concern.

He had to do it.

But is he willing to give up the North for its own safety?

After three hundred years, the North fought for its freedom in the last three years. However, Cersei Lannister, now High Queen of Westeros, has yet to send an army to attack. If the Night King was not a significant problem, how long before Cersei sent an army to eradicate them for treason? Jon doubts they would have the men to fight the royal army with Lannister forces, not after the War of the Five Kings. Jon would have to ask the Free Folk once more…and Boudica made it clear the next battle would be against the Army of the Dead.

That was his main objective.

Othro becomes a wight and attempts to kill Jeor Mormont.

Then, Craster's baby boy is taken by an Other.

The mutilated bodies were tossed around to make symbols.

Hardhome.

Seeing the Night King for the first time.

An entity that can raise the dead.

There was no other choice. Jon knew he needed all the help he could get. If he can't get Daenerys Targaryen, he will get the dragonglass. That is his main objective. Hopefully, Ser Davos can guide him through politics. And Imogen….

Imogen….

A part of him wondered why he was bringing Imogen along. At the time, he thought Imogen could represent the Free Folk to explain the Night King. A native beyond the Wall. That was his reason. But now…he wonders if he was being selfish.

Jon sighed as he laid back down.

He's being selfish.

He mentally groaned, for he couldn't make such thoughts about Imogen. Doubt she would think of him that way. Let alone the guilt from Ygritte still lingers. It was best to treat Imogen as a friend and not go further.

Yet Imogen in that dark green gown lingers in his mind.

Fuck, Jon thought.

.o0o.

By morning, Jon had gotten some extra sleep before breakfast with his siblings. Jon noticed Imogen was not there and glanced around, observing that her spot had not been occupied.

"Where's Imogen?" Jon asked.

"She went to talk to her people," Sansa answered. "As she leaves her people to help prepare for what is to come."

Jon nodded, noting Imogen is always one step ahead.

Anyway, Jon ate with his siblings.

Afterwards, Jon went to the Crypts of Winterfell. Only a Stark and a King can enter here to visit the dead. The only exception is those whose obligation is putting the dead to eternal rest. All the previous Northern Kings and Wardens had their spouses and children who died before their time. Jon made it to the recent statues that had been commissioned, as he starred between Robb and Ned.

The statue of Ned seemed off, as if it had withered away through time. Even though it has been over three years since his death. Then again, the people who recall Ned Stark's likeness were slain by the Ironborn or the Boltons.

The last time Jon saw his father was at King's Road, where they were going their separate ways. Jon was heading to the Wall to be a brother of the Night's Watch. Meanwhile, Ned Stark was heading south to King's Landing to be the Hand of the King for Robert Baratheon. It was a struggle as Ned tried to keep Jon away from the Wall with secrets. Yet Uncle Benjen convinced Ned to let Jon go.

This is followed by a promise that the next time they meet, Ned will tell Jon about his mother. For twenty-two years, Jon had never known his mother. He doesn't even know if she is alive or not. He heard rumors that she was a wet nurse named Wylla to Lady Ashara Dayne. That would have been something to have Dayne's blood in his veins. But Jon had a feeling his blood was colder than a Dornish fire. Jon hoped that even knowing her name would suffice his dreadful curiosity.

But alas, the Gods were cruel.

Footsteps could be heard as Jon took a deep breath, expecting his sibling.

"I delivered his bones myself," Lord Baelish announced. "I presented them to Lady Catelyn as a gesture of goodwill from Tyrion Lannister."

Jon mentally frowns because Littlefinger has no right to be here. For only a Stark is allowed in the Crypts. Jon still did not trust the man. Jon speculated that Lord Baelish had a part in his family's demise. Even though Jon did not have proof, except that Littlefinger sold Sansa to the Boltons. He was getting them all into this mess. Yes, Lord Baelish got Sansa out of the Lannister's clutches only to be tortured by Ramsay.

Therefore, Jon avoided Littlefinger.

If he could, he would send Littlefinger on his way. However, the Knights of the Vale wouldn't be here without the man, and they would all be dead. So, holding pride, Jon faced Lord Baelish momentarily and returned to Ned Stark, praying his father would give him strength not to kill the man.

"It seems like a lifetime ago," Lord Baelish continued and made his way over, standing next to Jon. "Do give Lord Tyrion my best when you see him. I was sorry when he died. Your father and I had our differences, but he loved Cat very much." He looked at Jon. "So did I."

Jon avoided looking at him, for Lady Catelyn was a sensitive subject.

"She wasn't fond of you, was she?" Lord Baelish asked.

Jon did not answer.

"Well, it appears she vastly underestimated you," he continued, turning to the two statues. "Your father and brother are gone, yet here you stand, King in the North. Last best hope against the coming storm."

Jon glared at him. Noting that Lord Baelish did not mention Rickon. Although it has been assumed Rickon was Jon's heir. Still, Jon did not trust this man to be around his siblings. Declaring Lord Baelish as an opportunist. Someone who will take any opportunity to succeed.

"You can't be down here," Jon warned.

"Forgive me," Lord Baelish apologized, stepping away. "We haven't ever talked properly. I wanted to remedy that."

"I have nothing to say to you," Jon said, making his leave.

"Not even 'thank you?'" Lord Baelish taunted.

Jon stopped to control his anger. Pride is dangerous, and Jon will not flaunt it on this man.

"If it weren't for me, you'd have been slaughtered on the battlefield," Lord Baelish reminded. "You have many enemies, my king. But I swear to you, I'm not one of them. I love Sansa. As I loved her mother."

Jon's little patience with Lord Baelish faltered when he talked about Sansa in that manner. Although Sansa was legally a woman, Jon will forever see her as his wounded sister. A girl who has been abused by men in many forms. He will never let another lecherous man touch or be near her under his watch. He vowed to his father's spirit that he would protect Sansa to the very end.

Jon grabbed Lord and slammed him against the Wall of the crypt. This startled the man, and Jon glared at him. Jon secured his hands around the man's throat, strangling him. This man did not love Sansa for Sansa. He loved Sansa because she resembled her mother physically. He loves Sansa because she is key to power for the North as Regent, the Riverlands of Riverrun, and possibly the Vale.

The fury instinct he has been suppressing since his resurrection took control. Honestly, he wanted to kill Littlefinger. End it right here to protect Sansa. But it would make him no better.

So, Jon gave the man a warning, "Touch my sister, and I'll kill you myself."

Jon let go as Littlefinger slumped to the floor. Having enough of this game, Jon left the crypt.

Once out, he made his way toward the courtyard where Ser Davos and Imogen waited. Ser Davos was on his horse while Imogen was with his siblings.

"Take good care of him," Sansa said.

"I'll try," Imogen promised.

Sansa and Rickon nodded and then stared at Jon.

Jon adjusted his cloak and looked at his siblings, "Winterfell and the North are under your protection."

"We'll do our best," Rickon promised.

Jon smiled, placing a hand on his good shoulder, "I know you will."

Rickon grinned.

Jon then stared at Sansa, who was still disproving the situation but kept her mouth shut. Jon sighed as he looked at her. He wanted to warn her about Littlefinger, but Sansa was aware of it. There was no point in arguing.

"I trust you," Jon said.

Sansa wavered slightly and nodded.

Jon then looked at Lady Brienne, "Guard them with your life."

"I swear it," Lady Brienne promised.

Jon nodded as he hugged his sibling one more time, then turned to Ghost. He intended to bring Ghost along, but after what happened in the crypt, it might be best to leave him behind to protect his siblings. So, kneeling down, he petted Ghost and whispered in his ear.

"Watch over them, and don't let Lord Baelish near them," Jon whispered.

Ghost whimpered but nodded.

With nothing else to say, he gestured for Imogen to follow. She complied, as they walked over as Imogen got onto Skadi while Jon mounted a horse. Jon looked over his shoulder, waving to his sibling one last time. Rickon returned the wave with vigor, yet Sansa was cautious.

Jon sighed as he led his company of Ser Davos, Imogen, and five other soldiers toward White Harbor.

.o0o

Imogen's POV

The journey had been silent as we made our way to White Harbor. Although it took a few days, we made camp for two nights. Jon was determined to reach White Harbor and sail to Dragonstone. The men who joined would talk during the breaks, with Ser Davos sharing a few stories of his youth. But Jon…Jon was quiet. He would respond to simple questions but not conversation.

Something must have happened to have him brooding. Ser Davos and I learned that it was best for Jon to brood and wait if he would talk to us. Stories were shared, and when the men asked for stories of the Free Folk, I told them about Red Raven from the Free Folk perspective.

When we arrived at White Harbor, I noticed the city was different from Winterfell. The city is clean and well-ordered, with wide, straight, cobbled streets that make it easy to walk around. Its houses are built of whitewashed stone, with steeply-pitched roofs of dark greyslate. If I recall correctly, House Mandely is in charge of this place. We stopped at New Castle to drop the horses before making our way through the city.

Skadi stayed close to me as people had different emotions when seeing the massive direwolf. As we walked through, the fragrance of fish, smoke, and metal filled the air, even with the bite of the cold breeze from the ocean. We made it to a market, in which Jon told the men to get any supplies. Curious, I walked around, though I would receive a glare any time I walked past a stall.

I sighed, then stopped at one stall that had basic jewelry. Carved out of wood, woven with seashells and valuable metals. I admire the artwork. The Starks had given me money, yet Sansa advice I use it for emergency. Yet one thing caught my eye.

I picked it up, a bracelet made with silver, but in the center was a pendant of an owl while the wings formed the band. My heart tightened as I thought about Frigg. As it reminded me of her. I heave a sigh, setting the bracelet down. The vendor frowned, though a slight disapproval from my presence. Nodding my head out of respect, I left the stall and went to Ser Davos.

"Found anything of interest?" Ser Davos asked.

I shook my head, "Not really. Then again, I do not know what to get."

"Aye, it can be overwhelming at a market," Ser Davos said.

"We have markets for trade," I reminded Ser Davos. "Even in Lunar Haven."

"Do you have currency in Lunar Haven?" he asked.

"More on trade base," I answered. "But we pass around gems and metals."

Ser Davos nodded.

The men made their way over. I looked around, then noticed Jon leaving the stall I was at the moment ago. I wonder what he got. Then again, I saw a few masculine items from Brooches and pins. Whatever Jon got, he placed the item in his leather pouch, which was attached to his belt.

"We better get moving," Jon said.

We all nodded.

As we made our way to the docks.

A ship was waiting for us—one of Stannis's ships. However, the sails have been replaced. I glance at Ser Davos, wondering if he had a ship of his own or if the Stark inherited the ship. Ser Davos did not say as he led the way to the ship and up the plank. Skadi gave a whimper, that I rubbed her mane, leading her up. She complied since she didn't want to leave my side.

Ser Davos led Jon to the Captain of the ship. I stood on Deck with Skadi, seeing the crew getting the ship ready. Noting how active it was, I led Skadi to the prow to get out of the way. She sat down, and I did the same, resting against her.

It wasn't long before the ship set sail. I stood up, watching White Harbor as we sailed south towards Dragonstone. If I recall correctly, Dragonstone was part of the Crownlands. This will be the first time I will be leaving the North.

Footsteps could be heard as Jon stood next to me, watching White Harbor leave our sight.

"I arrange the cabin on deck to be your quarters so that you can be close to Skadi," he said.

I smiled slightly, remembering the same gesture when we were sailing to Hardhome.

"Thank you," I said.

Jon nodded, then sighed.

"Are you regretting your decision?" I asked.

Jon took a deep breath, "A little."

I chuckle, shaking my head, then turn around to lean against the rail. "Well, now's your chance to turn back."

"True, but we need the dragonglass," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the rail.

"Will she be like Maester Aemon?" I asked.

As Maester Aemon was a Targaryen.

"That would be nice, but I doubt it," he guessed. "From the reports I've heard, she conquered Slaver's Bay, killing many masters to end slavery."

"With three dragons," I added.

"With three dragons," he repeated.

We were silent for a moment, and then I said, "Other than the chance of being burned alive and you bending the knee…what else is there to worry about?"

"A political marriage," he guessed

My head snapped at him, "What do you mean…political marriage?"

Jon took a deep breath, trying to find his words: "Sometimes alliances are not made out of good faith. Sometimes political marriages are arranged to secure both houses."

"Like your father and his wife?" I asked.

Jon nodded to that.

"You Southerners have weird marriage customs," I muttered.

Jon snorted as he looked at me, "More complex than wife stealing."

"Only when the Red Wanderer is within the Moonmaid," I added, then sighed. "Wife stealing is a second option for the Dires. My people, we prefer stealing of the heart."

Jon stared at me to explain.

"It's like…. what do you call it when people are interested in marriage but not there yet?"

"Courtship."

"Yes, that," I nodded. "If the man holds interest, he goes to the elders to ensure he is not related to her. Once the elders confirm, he will try to spend time with her in social gatherings. Once she notices him, he will spend time with her in any way possible before giving her three gifts."

"And what are the three gifts?" he asked.

"A gift of protection, a gift of sentimental, and a gift of nature," I explained.

"Protection?"

"Usually a dagger for protection, but I've seen men be creative, from other weapons to shields," I explained.

"Sentimental?"

"Jewelry that has a symbol of what she values. Usually, it has her maiden mark or her familiar."

"Gift of nature?"

I smiled softly, remembering the courtships, "A flower. Some flowers grow in Lunar Haven, of snowdrops or forget-me-nots. But he would give her a winter rose if he truly loved her. They are rare."

"The glass gardens have winter roses," Jon said.

"Really?" I replied.

Jon nodded, "My father said they were my aunt's favorite."

I nodded.

"So…what happens if she accepts all three?" Jon then asked.

"If she accepts all three with the time they share, she will accept. Under the full moon, they will meet, and if both meet, they accept each other as if he had stolen her heart. Of course, he would need parent acceptance. If the parent doesn't accept, then the daughter must decide to love her family or burn her maiden mark."

"Burn her maiden mark?" Jon asked, baffled.

I nodded as I pointed to my wolf tattoo, "If my father rejected the man who stole my heart, then I would burn my dirk and rest the burning blade against my tattoo to sever the family ties."

Jon's eyes widen when hearing that.

"It's rare, but I have seen women with the scars," I said, rubbing my neck.

Jon nodded, "Has anyone tried to steal your heart."

"A few, but I reject the daggers and knives," I said.

Except for the chainmail from Jon. He was oblivious, and the chainmail was hard to reject, knowing it was valuable, at least to the Free Folk. I doubt Jon sees me more than a friend. Let alone he once belonged to Ygritte. It doesn't seem right.

Most of all, I know I will not survive the Great War.

I was going to die the moment I fought the Night King.

The question is, will I be able to take the Night King with me?

Jon stared at me as he took this information in. As I gave him more information about the Dires and myself. That in the mortal realm, I have never been in a relationship. If Orell was still alive in his human vessel. I turned my attention to Skadi before closing my eyes to hear and smell the ocean as the breeze tussled the strands of my hair.

"How long until Dragonstone?" I asked.

Jon gave a sigh, facing the shoreline. "Two weeks."

"Well, let's hope we don't kill each other out of sheer boredom," I said.

Jon snorted as he shook his head.

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