Warg Maiden
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 55: Sentimental
Imogen's POV
The next day, I stood at the port where a smaller ship was used by lesser merchants. Ser Davos seemed pleased that his requirements for this mission were met. Ser Davos tried to explain that smuggling things out is easy; smuggling them back in is hard, especially with a person. More precisely, it is a person who is a dwarf.
"How long will you be gone?" I asked.
Ser Davos secured his cloak, "About a week. It takes three days to get to King's Landing from here. Then a day there, and three days back."
I nodded. As much as I know the history that I have seen with the Three-Eyed Raven and Bloodraven, King's Landing is not a safe place with the people. As Ser Davos mentioned, the Gold Cloaks, and with Cersei Lannister as queen, there would be Lannister soldiers.
"Please be careful," I said.
Ser Davos gave a smile, "I'll do my best.
Jon and Lord Tyrion made their way over. Lord Tyrion made a comment I did not quite get, in which Ser Davos rolled his eyes, and Jon chuckled. The Dwarf got onto the ship and left the three of us behind. The Onion knight turned his attention to me.
"Now, you two behave while I'm gone," Ser Davos warned.
I tensed as I stared at the Onion Knight, baffled that he would say that. Jon glared at him, feeling the same way. Ser Davos merely smiled.
"Until we meet again," Ser Davos said as he made his way to the ship. He stopped once on the deck facing us. "Remember, you are a King in the North. And Lady of Lunar Haven."
Not this again. I seriously don't understand why Ser Davos constantly calls me a Lady. I understand since Missandei and Daenerys use Lord Snow on Jon occasionally. As if telling him he is no king but a warden. However, they gave me the title of Lady with my name. Yes, my father is a Magnar, which means Lord in Old Tongue, but we Free Folk don't do noble titles.
"When will he ever stop calling me that," I grumbled.
"Until you finally accept," Jon said.
I snorted, shaking my head.
We stood there, watching the ship take off and hearing towards King's Landing. A week. Ser Davos will be gone for a week. It's a shame to lose a good companion since Jon has been brooding a lot recently. Then again, I wouldn't blame him as the Dragon Court keeps persuading him to bend the knee, followed by Rhaegal bonding with him. So far, I haven't seen Jon interacting with Rhaegal. However, the green dragon has been hunting near the cave or resting on the top of the cliff as if waiting for Jon to accept. Nonetheless, Jon ignores the green beast.
"I better start getting supplies ready," I thought to myself.
"We got a week," Jon assured. "Do not stress yourself."
"Not those supplies," I said.
Jon stared at me, confused, "Then what?"
I smirked, "You'll see."
With nothing else to say, I and Skadi made our way back to the castle. I thought about my list to get bones, leather, leather strings, and a sturdy rock. I'm excited to make some dragonglass daggers but also dread the countless cuts.
.o0o.
Jon's POV
Jon continued the mining process. It has been a day since Ser Davos left to smuggle Tyrion back to King's Landing. Jon had faith that Tyrion could convince Ser Jaime to create some sort of armistice with Queen Cersei. Until then, all Jon can do is wait.
He came out of the cave, needing a break from the darkness. At the entrance, sitting against Skadi, was Imogen with large quantities of dragonglass around her. Jon came over wondering what she was doing, until finding Imogen sitting with leather over her thigh, as she took a piece of animal bone, banging it against the chunk of dragonglass, making it smaller.
At first, Jon was confused until seeing a basket that contained two dragonglass daggers. Imogen has been making daggers for their expedition to the True North all day. He recalls Imogen excusing herself yesterday, saying she needed to get supplies. There were no active villages, so Jon wondered where she got the bone and leather.
"What bone is that?" Jon asked.
Imogen stopped what she was doing and looked up, "Horse."
"How did you get a horse bone?" he asked.
"From the Dothraki," she answered. "It's their main source of food. Found some bones, cleaned it up, and used it to break and trim the dragonglass."
"Why bone?" he asked. "Why not a hammer?"
Imogen picked up a small hammer and grabbed a small chunk of dragonglass. She used the same amount of strength as she did with the bone onto the black glass. With the bone, the dragonglass separated with ease. However, with the hammer, it shattered into many small pieces.
This was concerning. There must be other ways to make weapons out of dragonglass that are not tedious and time-consuming.
"Are there other ways?" he asked. "It's made out of glass. Once we get a proper forge, we can see if we can melt it and mold it into weapons."
"You're gonna need a very hot flame," Imogen said. "Hot as the earth's inner fire."
The closest to the fire of the earth is dragon fire. Jon wanted to test that theory. However, he did not want to ask Daenerys any more favors. Not without her speech about pride and bending the knee. Although there is one dragon that could help. Rhaegal.
Jon noted that Rhaegal was flying close to them at the bay. Now that he thinks about it, Rhaegal has been nearby. As if the green dragon understood that he should not come near. It was hard to grasp that he had bonded with a dragon. Ghost, he understands, through the imprinting. But a dragon, and that he could be a dragon seed descendant. Still,
He needed to test the theory.
"You're thinking," Imogen said. "Or brooding."
Jon sighed, "I need to test something."
Imogen arched her brow.
Not saying a word, he grabbed more chunks of dragonglass and asked Imogen and Skadi to go to the other side of the island. Imogen was going to ask him what he was planning, but he didn't want to risk their safety. He was not sure which Dothraki knew the common tongue. They gather what they need before getting on Skadi. The black direwolf sprinted, going to the other side of the island, away from the castle and keep.
Jon held onto Imogen as she guided Skadi through the rough terrain. With the direwolf's speed and the wind, Jon noted a fragrance of rosemary. Imogen had always smelled of rosemary since the Nightfort. Never floral like rose or lavender, but herbal. He took a deep breath, needing to stop focusing on the little things.
It would be some time before they reached the other side of Dragonstone, which was more rugged. Ensuring no Dothraki were patrolling the area, they got off of Skadi.
"So why are we here?" Imogen asked.
"You mentioned that we would need a hot source similar to volcanic fire," Jon said.
"Aye, I did," she confirmed.
"Well, there are no volcanos in the North," he said.
"True," she confirmed.
"That leaves the forge, but it will take time to get the forges hot enough, and with winter here, it might not be possible," he added.
Imogen nodded, "So what is your plan?"
Jon took a moment to decide how to say it. "What about dragon fire?"
Imogen blinked a few times.
"Balerion the Dread was able to melt thousands of swords to make the Iron Throne," he explained. "So why not dragonglass."
Imogen thought about it, "Maybe."
Jon sensed they were being watched. He glanced around and saw no one until he looked to the sky to see Rhaegal. As if the Green Dragon had sensed what they were doing. They watched as Rhaegal landed from a distance before crawling his way over to them. Skadi bristled with a slight growl but did not attack.
Jon removed his glove and reached out slowly, making his way to Rhaegal. The Green dragon came closer, then stopped, reaching his head out until his snout made contact with Jon's hand. They stayed like this as dark eyes stared into those amber orbs. Words could not describe how Jon felt as if reconnected with an old friend. It was as if he were seeing Robb for the first time if he could. Almost when he held Rickon.
"How does it feel," Imogen asked.
"No words could describe it," he answered. "I can see why Daenerys calls them her children."
Imogen snorted, "So Rhaegal is now your son."
Jon removed his hands, "Not like that."
He glanced over at her, gesturing Imogen over. Slowly, Imogen came over, Jon took her hand and carefully placed it on Rhaegal's snout. Her eyes widened when, then again, she was touching a dragon. Followed by the smell of smoke and sulfur.
"I spent years watching the dragons, I never thought I would be touching one," Imogen murmured.
Jon watched her fascination, the way her silver eyes shimmered with awe and fascination. Jon values these experiences. After a moment, they pulled back.
"So, I'm assuming you want to see if dragon fire can melt dragonglass?" Imogen asked.
Jon nodded as he took a few chunks and put them in a small crater in the ground. "Do you know the words to command dragon fire?"
Imogen nodded, "Though, I would put some distance between us and Rhaegal."
Jon nodded in agreement. Rhaegal stood there, looking down at them. As if understanding what they were saying. They made some distance, basically on Rhaegal's side, while Jon stood closer.
"Dracarys," Imogen murmured, so loud that Jon could hear but not loud enough to command. "That is what you need to say."
Jon took a deep breath and looked at Rhaegal. Rhaegal stared at him for a moment, then stared at the "That hole with the dragonglass. Jon took a deep breath and said, "Dracarys."
At first, nothing happened until Rhaegal pulled his head back, opened his mouth wide, and lunged forward as a fire soar out of his mouth. A heat that Jon had never felt before consumed the air and could rival Dorne. Flames of red, orange, and yellow swirled around the ground with tints of green. All that destructive power focused on that spot. After a moment, Rhaegal closed his mouth, and the flames receded and then stopped.
Both Jon and Imogen were baffled by the power Rhaegal had. Despite being slightly smaller than Drogon, there was still power in the green dragon. They waited a moment for the ground to cook before making their way to the small crater, where they put the dragonglass. No longer were there a few chunks of obsidian on the ground. Instead, molten glass was on the ground, which had molded into the crater and was glowing like lava.
"Well, that answers your theory," Imogen said.
Jon nodded, pleased by this, "We would have to test if the fire is still hot without the dragons."
Imogen nodded in agreement. She pulled out the bone she was using earlier and poked the melted glass. There was a cracking sound, not a second longer, as Imogen let go, for the bone had cracked from the heat. Jon frowned at this as he stood just a few feet and still felt the heat from the molten glass.
Imogen stared at her hand, checking for injuries. Concern, Jon came over gently, grabbing her hand to see if there was any damage. So far, the only damage he could see was the nick cuts from the dragonglass and tenderness on her palm. He also noted her hand was calloused. Seeing old crack scars from wielding weapons. He turned her hand, noting a rune on the back of her hand, almost resembling vines or roots.
He looked up, staring at Imogen, who was watching him. Her lips were slightly open as she breathed. Until those silver eyes looked at him. Wondering what he will do. Jon wasn't sure what he wanted to do. A part of him wanted to kiss her.
A growl caught their attention as both turned their attention to Skadi and Rhaegal. Both have a knowing look. Feeling uncomfortable, Jon let go of her hand.
"We should get back," Jon murmured.
Imogen lowered her head and nodded. No words were said as they returned to the cave to ensure the dragonglass was being mined correctly.
.o0o.
Imogen's POV
Once more, Jon was avoiding me. We do have our basic conversation revolving around the dragonglass. It became hard when the Dothraki and our men were in the mines. By night, we ate in silence before going to bed early. I don't know why there is a rift between us. It has only been four days, and I miss Ser Davos. At least he can keep a conversation going.
Either way, I focused my time on making the dragonglass. I chisel them during the day, and when we return to our chambers, I take the leather strings to the handles for the blades. It was tedious, but I tried to make as many daggers as possible. Making them as large as possible was difficult in the samples I could obtain.
I found a large chunk and started working on it, chipping away to get a flat service before chiseling. My goal is to make this for Tormund. Somehow, I miss the Red Oaf. I wonder what he is doing at Eastwatch-by-the-sea. Hopefully, he is doing well there.
I sighed, taking a small piece of bone to make the serrations on the edge to make it sharp. I have also made spearheads, and I'm hoping we can swap spears for the journey. I continue this process, allowing my mind to go blank. After making the dagger, I made sure it was sharp enough before putting it in the basket. I grabbed another chunk and continued to chisel away.
The Northern soldiers would stop by to ensure I had everything I needed or drop off more large quantities of dragonglass. I appreciated it, bobbing my head in thanks. Although some of the Dothraki would walk by, giving me a lustful look. Some even try to speak a common tongue or make gestures of sexual offering. I pretended to be dense, saying I did not understand them, and did terrible translations that were the complete opposite of what they were offering. After a few attempts, they would get frustrated and leave, muttering what I could only assume was an insult.
Jon occasionally comes over when these moments happen, requesting assistance. There wasn't any, yet I appreciated the save. Jon led me inside the cave, talking about the things we already discussed. After several minutes, he would guide me back so I could work on the daggers.
Some time passed, and I continued to carve and chip when Jon came over. He held an expression that said, "We need to talk."
"What is it?" I asked.
"We got the dragonglass out of the main cavern," Jon answered. "It's time for the second one."
In other words, where the Children's drawings are at.
I took a deep breath, grasping that the chances of preserving those drawings were limited to none. The Dothraki are rough, and they wouldn't care. Jon, knowing this, offered a hand, which I accepted. He helped me up as I put the supplies in the basket. Skadi set her tail over it to ensure the daggers were safe.
Jon let go of my hand before leading the way inside the cave, carrying a torch. Carefully, we made our way to the main cavern before going through the tunnel. Jon set the torch in the brazier when we entered the cavern, providing more light into the cave. I walked around, tracing my hands on the drawings, thinking about the Children of the Forest.
So many memories filled me, remembering Leaf educated me about their culture, Black Knife showing me how to use a spear, and Coals and Ash showing me how to scavenge. Scales taught me to climb. Snowylocks showed me the art of healing. They made me the warrior that I am. And they are gone.
I felt my eyes sting as I rested my head on the stones. I tried not to cry, but I couldn't help it. Knowing their culture and legacy are about to be destroyed for the good of the realm.
"Imogen," Jon spoke out.
"They're gone," I managed to say. "Everything about them will be gone."
Jon came over, resting a hand on my shoulders.
"They'll be just stories and legends," I cried. "They all died!"
Suddenly, I was forced around to face Jon. My eyes widen, not expecting it, as my back is pressed against the wall. I stared at Jon, wondering what he was going to do. Jon stares at me, and I can make out his face in the darkness. My breath is trapped in my throat as I stare at him.
"They may be gone," he started but stopped. "But they are alive with you. Don't make them be forgotten."
"Jon," I whispered.
Jon stared at me as I was trapped between him and the wall. All the feelings that had been stirring from him were now shouting at me, telling me to kiss him, to take this chance. However, the other half was begging me not to risk this, not to allow myself to be hurt, reminding me of all the hurt he had caused and what he should be given.
Jon removed his glove, wiping the tear off my cheek before cradling it. His breathing was rugged, as the limited light showed the conflict on his face.
He is a Southerner.
He is the King in the North.
I am nothing.
I am a wildling.
"Gods," Jon groaned, closing his eyes before taking a deep breath. "Tell me to pull back."
"Jon," I whispered.
Do I want him to pull back?
"Damn you," I hissed.
Not thinking, I placed my hands around his neck as they traveled up to the sides, following the pounding beat of his pulse until I reached the curve of his whisker jaw. I drew a trembling breath, swaying closer to him. My eyes found his, lost in their depths and willing to drown. Now, we have the chance to pull back, forget this moment, and pretend that our emotions are out of control.
But for the first time in a long time, I became selfish.
As I brought his lips against my own. For a second, his mouth remained unmoving over my own. No doubt, he was baffled by this sudden act. A whimper nearly escaped, not wanting to face humiliation, as I pulled on his neck tighter, wanting this to be real. And yet, he did not reciprocate. Dread filled me for the embarrassment I had put myself in. Have I missed read him? Did he not want to kiss me?
Just as I was about to pull away, Jon leaned in close, responding. One arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me firmly against him. His other hand snaked up to the back of my neck, into my hair, entangling into the locks. He licked my lips, which I accepted, as our tongues sparred in the heat of the moment.
After a few moments, he broke the kiss yet held me firm to his waist. Both of us panted, filling the air back into our lungs. We stared at each other, realizing we had crossed the line—the line that was our friendship and duties.
The King in the North and the Wildling Huntress.
Just as he leaned in for another kiss, the sound of footsteps caught our attention. Immediately, we pulled away as I made some distance, going over the drawings of the White Walkers.
"Your Grace, are you ready for this cavern?" one of the Northern Soldiers asked.
I tensed yet kept my focus on the drawings. I could still feel Jon's gaze on me. I stared at the White Walkers, reminded of what was more important.
I turned to stare at the cavern and the drawings for the final time before leaving the chamber. Jon reached out but did not stop me as I left. I needed to get out of there. I needed to think and breathe. Quickly, I left before grabbing the dragonglass and rushing out on top of Skadi. The black she-wolf complied as she ran away from the mine.
.o0o.
I sat on top of a cliff, leaning against Skadi on the other side of Dragonstone.
Coward.
I have become a coward.
In a moment of weakness, I kissed Jon and ran away. I don't know what is going on between us. How could this happen? I tried to remember that very moment. How he turned me around, wiping my tears away, and then…
"Tell me to pull back."
Did he want me to push him away? Did he actually have feelings for me? There were so many questions about what had transpired. I placed my fingers on my lips; the swelling dwindled to near normal. I could still feel his lips against my own.
An actual kiss.
Not mere pecks but an actual….physical…kiss.
Not an illusion of the mind.
Skadi made a noise that got my attention. I turned to face her while leaning against her midsection.
"Why is it so easy for animals," I asked.
She snorted, but then again, Skadi did not have a mate. None of the male wolves interest her, so she comes back unsuccessful. We were both alphas in a way. Unable to submit yet accepting an equal. However, when I did submit, I was hurt.
Bryden was my first love, and he hurt me so severely that I never thought I could love another again.
Orell was a convenient match, even though we never got a chance.
Both were spiritual since Bryden was a vessel to the Three-Eyed Raven, and Orell's body was slain, so he warged into his eagle to survive.
Also, Ygritte.
Was I betraying Ygritte?
She was my sister in name, and she and Jon were in a relationship before her demise.
The King in the North and the Wildling Huntress.
I wish Leaf was alive to help me through this.
I wish Ygritte was here to help me understand this.
I wish my mother was here.
Tears welled up in my eyes, for I didn't know what to do.
Was this a mere moment of vulnerability or lust?
I try to figure out when it happened. When these feelings for Jon started. All I can think of is that I care more for Jon after Hardhome. From there, it was slowly growing. It was only when Daenerys presented herself that I didn't want him to be hers. I didn't want him to be with her.
I am not fit to be with Jon. I know the Andal customs of Kings marrying princesses or Noble Ladies. I am not from a noble house.
But you are, a thought whispered. You're Imogen Stark.
Bran the Builder's blood runs in my veins through his second son.
A bloodline that has been severed.
I was a wildling to the southerners and kneelers.
No one will accept me.
I pounded my head and yanked my hair. Gods, what has become of me? Thinking like some damsel over a man! If Tormund or my brothers see me now, they would be laughing their asses off.
I can't risk this. I have been hurt too many times. My fate is known, and I know death will do harm to my family. I can not drag another. So, when I face Jon, I must be blunt and ask that we stay as friends.
.o0o.
When I returned to the chamber at Dragonstone, it was dusk. Skadi was by my side, and I let her in first before entering the main room. As I entered, I stopped to see the fireplace lit and Jon standing by it, his arm over the mantel, deep in thought. Not a second longer, he looked up and expressed so many emotions that I could not grasp.
Fuck.
He stood up straight.
Please don't say anything, I thought as I made my way to the table where the food was.
"Imogen," Jon spoke.
I tensed, keeping my back to him. No words were said as I heard him come over. Instead of taking a seat, he stood next to me and set an object on the table. I blinked, thinking it was something he found in the cave. Instead, it was a bracelet made of silver, with a white stone that was a carving of an owl's face, while the bands were of feather wings. It took me a moment to realize it was the bracelet from the market at White Harbor.
I felt my heart stop, realizing Jon had taken the second step of courtship: giving a sentimental item. One to honor Frigg.
I stared at the bracelet, grasping that Jon wanted this.
"Daenerys has considered a marital alliance," were the words that came out of my mouth.
Jon made a noise of surprise, but I did not look at him, still focused on the bracelet.
"How do you know that?" he asked.
I took a deep breath, "She asked me about you...about your... status."
Jon gave a sigh.
"If you take it back now, I will understand," I murmured. "You are a king, and she is a queen. What happened in the cave was just…we were…damn it. I'm not a fancy lady!"
"I know," Jon said, placing a hand on my shoulder and forcing me to face him.
"You don't!" I snapped, pulling away. "You know nothing!"
Jon continued to keep his grip on me, "Imogen."
"I'm a wildling!" I nearly sobbed. "You're a fucking king. I can't change who I am. I can't be what you want me to be!"
Suddenly, his lips were on my own. Not as passionate as the cave yet forced to keep my lips shut. Silencing me from talking. I took a deep breath through my nose, then exhaled. Jon pulled back, yet he kept both hands on my arms, preventing me from running away.
"I don't want you to change," he murmured. "We may not live to see our future."
"Jon," I breathed. "You have better options."
He reached over to the table, grabbed the bracelet, and placed it on my wrist. "I know. But I choose you."
I took a deep breath, staring into his dark eyes, "Don't compare me to others."
With his free hand, he cradled my face, "Same to you."
I nodded.
Suddenly, Skadi made a noise as if she was saying, 'Finally.'
We stared at her while she stared back at us before she lay down by the fireplace. We chuckled, as both our cheeks flushed. I sighed, resting my head on Jon's chest while he wrapped his arms around me. Is it love? I do not know. All I know is that we care for each other deeply.
Finally!
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