Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Warning: Mild sexual content.

Chapter 60: Frozen Body

Imogen's POV

I stood on top of the Wall, staring out towards the horizon. I snuck out after Ser Davos left to get food. Ser Davos has taken care of me for several days to regain my strength. He even mended my wounds with the assistance of Maester Harmune. However, I could not stay in my room much longer. So, when Ser Davos left, I dressed, grabbing my cloak, before checking on Skadi.

The black direwolf lay on the ground, gnawing on the carcass of a goat. I was pleased to see she was still alive. Silently, I hugged her, which she allowed, nuzzling to my side. I winced slightly, for the bruise was there from the dead bear. Once I knew she was well, I let her rest before climbing those steps to be on top of the Wall.

All day, I stood, securing my cloak while holding the bracelet close to my lips. Watching, searching for any signs of the dragons. Whispering in Old Tongue and the Children's Language. Praying to the Old Gods that I made it in time to contact Daenerys and save them.

I want to save Tormund, who has been a friend of mine.

To save the volunteers who willingly helped us.

To save Ser Jorah, who wanted to help.

And most of all, to save Jon.

One would say I had a frozen heart. I held thick walls, just like the Wall itself. And yet, a crow managed to find the cracks and chiseled his way into my heart. I don't think I can do this again. To give myself, only for the man to die.

My eyes watered, praying against the white stone of the bracelet.

Time seemed to vanish as footsteps could be heard.

"Imogen," Ser Davos sighed in relief. "You can't scare me like that again."

I stopped my prayer, yet did not break my concentration towards the curse side of the Wall.

Ser Davos came closer and rested a hand on my shoulder. "Come now. You need to rest more."

"This was my mission," I murmured. "I was the fool who suggested it."

"You are not a fool," Ser Davos assured.

"I can never forgive myself if Jon and Tormund are dead," I said.

Ser Davos sighed, "Daenerys came. Any day now, she will return."

I sighed, hating myself that I swallowed my pride and begged Daenerys to come to the True North. Although I heard the dragons and the crows cry out seeing them from crossing. I wish I had seen it with my own eyes. A way to confirm that everyone will be saved.

I had heard what Ser Davos said during my frail state with Maester Harmune and Commander Cotter. If none are returned within a week, Gendry, Ser Davos, Skadi, and I shall make our way to Winterfell. I don't know how I can face Sansa and Rickon, with Bran and Arya, that Jon was dead. That I was unable to save him.

Thinking of Bran, I knew I would face another of my demons. As I will confront the Three-Eyed Raven and trap him. If I can not save Jon, I can at least save his brother from the Raven's clutches.

"It's time to go, my lady," Ser Davos said.

"I'm not a lady," I snapped. "Stop calling me that."

Ser Davos stood by my side, "I call you a lady, for your father is a Magnar, a Lord of Lunar Haven and the Dire tribe. I call you a lady because I know if people hear it, they will address you with respect. Calling you my lady is because I can see a strong woman who can stand beside the King in the North."

I scoffed, shaking my head.

"How long did you realize it before Jon and I did?" I asked, staring at the knight.

"I had my suspicions after we left Castle Black," he answered. "It was only after reclaiming Winterfell that I knew Jon cared for you more than a friend. As for you, when we met Daenerys."

I sighed, shaking my head.

"Give it time," he murmured. "You'll see it."

I chuckled, "Unbelievable."

Ser Davos gave his hum. We stood there for some time, watching the day slowly turn to sunset.

"It's getting late," he murmured.

I took a deep breath, "A bit longer."

Ser Davos sighed yet remained by my side.

Until I saw something in the distance. Over the horizon above the Haunted Forest tree line. Ser Davos noticed this as well, catching his breath. After several moments, two figures appeared. At first, it looked like birds, but as they came closer, it revealed itself to be the black and green dragon. The golden dragon was not in sight.

I inhale sharply. Ser Davos said he saw three dragons going over the Wall. Now, only two remain. In other words, Viserion died beyond the Wall. Another obstacle we will face when the Second Long Night returns. The Night King will have a dragon under his command.

Yet this fear was met with hope. Hope that Jon, Tormund, and the others are still alive. Quickly, I went down the steps with Ser Davos behind me. My mind became blank as my instincts took me to the open area where the dragons were most likely to land on the beach. Time is non-existent as each step creaks under my feet. Once at the bottom step, I ran towards the beach with Davos, and the Stark Soldiers followed along as we waited. Rhaegal was the first to land, giving a warning shriek that was near deafening .I winced, gesturing for everyone to stand back.

Drogon soon followed as he landed. Cautiously, we made our way to see the survivors. Daenerys was at the front, followed by Ser Jorah, Lord Beric, Jon, Tormund, the Wight, and the Hound. They were the only survivors. Thoros was absent, along with the rest of the Brotherhood. Still keeping our distance, we watched as the Hound, with Lord Beric and Tormund, came down, they dragged the wight. The three nodded in gesture to me as they took the wight away. Then, Ser Jorah came down as he tried to help Jon. There was barely any movement, wondering why Jon was not getting down until Daenerys gently placed her hands on him.

My chest tightens seeing this.

Jon managed to get down with their help, as Daenerys came down as well. Drogon made the distance before taking off to the sky. Rhaegal was near as he watched. Not thinking, I made my way over to them. Needing to know he was alright.

"Easy now," Ser Jorah murmured.

"Jon," I called out.

Slowly, Jon lifted his head. Many emotions were expressed not only on his face but also in his eyes. Something happened. Something terrible happened. Not only the golden dragon was missing. Something more personal.

I reached out, no longer hiding my feelings.

No longer caring if Daenerys saw.

Just as I cradle his face, Jon collapses into my arms. Ser Davos ran over to help, along with Ser Jorah. The first thing I noticed was that his furs were frozen. His body is trapped in ice. Followed by the torn areas on his sleeve and puncture holes. When I stare at his face, seeing him partially gaunt from starvation.

"Jon," I sobbed. "Jon, stay with me."

"We need to get him inside," Ser Davos.

"We need to get back to Dragonstone," Daenerys said.

I stared at Jon's face, trying to figure out what he wanted. Do we stay at Eastwatch or begin our journey to Dragonstone. In his lethargic state, Jon nodded his head to Daenerys.

"Dragonstone then," I confirmed.

We rushed to get Jon to the ship that was still docked. Realizing I did not have my supplies, I told Davos to get Jon into his cabin and strip while I got my things. Ser Davos nodded as he and the soldiers carried Jon towards the ship. Quickly, I ran, making my way back, passing Tormund, The Hound, and Lord Beric. As they drag the wight back to the ship.

I did not bother with words as I made my way to the keep until passing Maester Harmune. I requested supplies for stitching and medicine. Maester Harmune says he will meet me in the courtyard with the supplies. Appreciating it, I hurry towards my borrowed chamber. Once there, I grabbed my things, ensuring I had everything, along with my spear and Dark Sister. As I made my way out, I noticed Gendry was there.

"What's going on?" Gendry asked.

I had barely seen Gendry until now. "They're back. Although Jon is injured, we are departing for Dragonstone."

Gendry nodded, "I'll meet you at the ship."

I bobbed my head before making my way to the stables to see Skadi. Sensing my leave for departure, I made my way over to her. "Come, girl, it's time to go."

Skadi nodded as she limped her way out. I guided her as we made it to the courtyard, where Maester Harmune was with a satchel. I thanked the maester before making my way to the ship. Tormund was there, standing by the plank.

"Heading south?" Tormund asked.

"Aye," I answered.

"You and the little crow have gotten close," he noted.

I stared at him, wondering where this conversation would take us. Tormund smiled, resting a hand on my shoulder. Relief filled me, knowing I had my friend's approval.

"He has a little cock," Tormund added.

Heat rushes through me as I try to punch him. Tormund laughed as he grabbed my hand. The mirth he had vanished as he looked at me.

"Take care of him," he said. "And if he ever hurts you, you let me know. I'll join Fenrir and your brothers to kill him."

I sighed, shaking my head. We exchanged a hug, and Tormund gave Skadi a pat before heading inside. I did not bother with departing words to the others as I got on the ship. Skadi sat down by the entry as I made my way inside, towards Jon's cabin. Daenerys had stood by the door, bewildered, petrified as if she saw something. I came in, seeing Ser Davos did as I asked, stripping Jon while placing the furs over his lower half.

Currently, Jon is unconscious.

Then I realized why Daenerys was shocked. She was staring at Jon's scars. The one on his chest and several along his torso. Though healed, the scars were raised and dented into his pale flesh. Even with stitching, the traitor crows caused severe trauma that they would be like that. I felt Jon's arm, noting his skin was still cold, a slight tint of blue to his lips.

"We need more heat," I told Ser Davos. "Find any bedwarmers and see if we can get a small brazier here. Along with more furs."

Ser Davos nodded as he left to do so.

I set my things down and then got the medical supplies. Taking the pure moonshine, I opened the cap and poured a little bit on the rag. Once damp, I applied it to the wound on his shoulder, sterilizing it. I adjusted the furs, recalling the leg that was injured, and sterilized it as well. His body was still stiff, so it would be difficult to stitch his wounds, so I grabbed the strips of linen and wrapped them around the wounds.

"What are you doing?" Daenerys asked.

"I'm treating the wound while it is still fresh," I answered.

"You know the art of medicine?" she asked.

"My mother is a priestess. She taught me many things," I answered. "From helping the sick, mending wounds, and most of all, a frozen body."

"Frozen body?"

I looked up, "I don't know what you Southerners call it. But when a person is in poor condition from the cold, worse, drenched, and frozen, the body will lose heat. I need to stabilize him and get his core temperature in order."

"Anything I can do?" She asked.

I was surprised that she offered, then said. "Hot water, broth, any liquids."

Daenerys nodded as she left, closing the door.

I took several deep breaths, looking at him. "Don't you dare die on me. Not like this."

I leaned over and placed my lips on his own, feeling the coldness. One method was skin-to-skin contact, which provided more body heat to his own. However, it was not the best option as everyone came in and out. Taking a deep breath, I continued my examination to ensure there was no frostbite. His fingers were in the early stage but not severe enough to be amputated. I also checked his feet, seeing no damage.

It wasn't long before Ser Davos came in with more furs and blankets. I thanked him as we put them on Jon, securing his form.

"We need to keep him warm," I instructed.

"Bed warmers are on their way," Ser Davos said.

I nodded, then took several deep breaths.

The older knight rested his hand on my shoulder, "Breathe. He is alive, and he is safe."

I took another deep breath and sat down, taking Jon's hand.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon stirred, slowly waking up to find himself back on the ship. Lying in bed with furs and blankets over him. Warmth and coldness conflict with one another. The last thing he remembered was seeing his uncle being swarmed by wights and the Army of the Dead circling the lake. After that, everything was a haze, his conscious mind going in and out while still awake. Until Drogon land. And Imogen. The relief and fear in her as she called his name until falling unconscious.

Glancing around, Jon saw several things. Longclaw, Dark Sister, and the dragonglass spear leaning against the Wall. The small table is covered with medical supplies. Then he looked down, seeing Imogen asleep. She sat in a chair, hunched over the bed, holding his hand. The bracelet on her wrist. Her hair and face were clean from paint, yet there was bruising around her eyes.

Has she been taking care of me? Jon thought.

A small smile lifted his lips, pleased they were both still alive. His body felt like lead, unable to move. Thus, he lay there, watching her sleep. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Imogen stirred but did not wake. Jon opened his mouth to speak, except it came as a cough.

The door opened, entering Daenerys, wearing her dark attire with hair down in a simple side braid. She did not seem to notice as she walked over with a tray of food. Jon noted the grief in her eyes, as her expression was sorrowful yet poise. Limiting the amount of weakness she would get. As Daenerys made her way over, she was about to touch Imogen's shoulder, but stopped to see Jon awake.

"I'm sorry," Jon apologized, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

For Jon knew Viserion was one of her spiritual children.

Daenerys's composure dropped as she tried to regain herself.

"If we hadn't gone, I wouldn't have seen," Daenerys murmured. "You have to see it to know. Now I know."

Jon stared at her.

"The dragons are my children," she said quietly. "They're the only children I'll ever have. Do you understand?"

Jon nodded slightly, wondering where this was going.

A burning rage glazed her violet eyes as her demeanor changed. "We are going to destroy the Night King and his Army. And we will do it together. You have my word."

A wave of relief filled Jon as his grip tightened on Imogen. "Thank you, Daenerys."

Daenerys nodded, then turned her attention to Imogen.

"What is she?" Daenerys asked. "Ser Jorah said she was a Warg. That she can control animals?"

Jon nodded, still keeping his grip on Imogen.

"When she contacted me through the albatross, I never thought I would see my childhood home in the garden of lemon trees. In her desperation, I saw myself. When I tried to save my late husband."

Jon wasn't sure what to say.

"She loves you," Daenerys murmured. "Don't take that for granted."

Jon squeezed Imogen's hand; nodding as a promise. Daenerys stared at Imogen, seeing the woman unconscious, tucking a strand of hair off her face. As if she was lost in a memory. With nothing else to say, Daenerys secured the blanket over Imogen and left.

Jon was still cautious with Daenerys. How did this woman who was considering offering a political alliance through marriage let it go with ease? Able to understand how much Jon and Imogen care for each other. They try to keep their courtship a secret. They are their usual selves until they are in private. Then again, he kissed Imogen before they separated. Thus, Ser Jorah saw. Did Ser Jorah tell Daenerys? Then Daenerys mentioned Imogen was desperate. Can desperation reveal one's genuine feelings?

Jon sighed as he closed his eyes.

Letting sleep take over.

.o0o.

Imogen's POV

Slowly, I woke with a groan, feeling the protest on my back. The last few days have been spent trying to get Jon to the proper temperature. Be careful to ensure vitals settle and wounds heal. If not carefully, give him broth and water. Ser Davos implored that I should rest properly, yet I couldn't. Not until he wakes.

Sitting up straight, I gave a stretch, and a crack could be heard, and I winced. Glancing at Jon, finding him still asleep. Sighing, I got up and then glanced at the table to see food was set. Daenerys must have stopped by. She has been bringing food. I don't know what happened, but there seems to be an understanding. As if Daenerys figured it out.

Small words were exchanged as Daenerys asked about Jon's condition. But not of personal interest, but someone who cares for my well-being. She even watched Jon while I took a moment to check on Skadi. When I returned, she told me Jon hadn't woken up and would leave. Advising I get some rest. Except I have not taken custody of a cabin. With limited space, I stayed in the one with Jon. From what I heard, Daenerys had taken my cabin. I did not care.

Quietly, I went over to the table, where the food was, noting it was lukewarm. Daenerys had stopped by an hour or so ago, I indicated. I sat down, glancing at Jon, and then sighed. Slowly, I ate the food, lost in thought.

There was still pain in my back as I adjusted myself.

"Does your back still hurt," whispered a voice.

I tensed, turning to the bed to see Jon was awake. A tired expression was written, but eyes opened. Carefully, I walked over, taking a seat on the bed.

"You're awake," I mumble, taking his hand.

Jon gave a squeeze, "I'm sorry."

I felt the sting in my eyes as I blinked the tears. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

"Can't promise that," he murmured.

I clenched my other fist, "Be thankful that you are injured. Otherwise, I would have slapped you."

A smile lifted his lips.

"Gods," I growled, then sighed.

We stare at each other for a moment. Unable to resist, I leaned over, pressing my lips against his. Jon kissed back, yet we were both still exhausted after everything. Pulling back, I smiled slightly.

"Lay down with me," he said.

I stared at him, blinking a few times. This seemed more intimate than sitting side by side and lulling to sleep. Jon, in particular, was naked under the furs. It took Jon a moment to realize this.

"Forgive me," he whispered, then gave a cold shudder.

I placed my hand on his arm. "You are still cold."

Jon did not say anything. I got up to check on the bedwarmers from the corner of the bed to be cold. Sighing, I grabbed hold of it.

"I'll be back," I said.

"Imogen," he whispered.

"I'll send Ser Davos to help with your needs," I said.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Coming closer, I placed a kiss on his forehead, letting him know that I was not avoiding him. He sighed, accepting that.

Afterwards, I left to inform Ser Davos.

.o0o.

Dusk was fast approaching, and I had everything arranged for Jon to be warm. Ser Davos attended to Jon, making sure any personal needs were met. I left a moment later to check on Skadi and bring food. When I came in, Jon was sitting upright, wearing trousers.

"You need to lay down," I said, bringing the tray over.

"I need a moment to sit," he countered, looking up at me.

I got a better look at him. Noticing the bruises have started to form. Jon stared at me, and we just stayed like that. Staring at each other. Each faced death in many forms.

"How do you truly feel?" he asked.

"I don't know what you mean?" I replied.

"Imogen…Ser Davos told me that you and Gendry arrived…blood had covered your face from your eyes and nose." He spoke. "Did you have an episode?"

"Damn it, Davos," I grumbled, setting the tray down.

Jon continued to stare at me.

"I stretched myself too far," I confessed as I sat in the chair. "I never warg at such a distance, let alone connect with Daenerys. Followed by warging with Skadi in order to keep on moving. I didn't know the severity until Ser Davos told me." I sighed. "I never wanted to do that again."

"Has it ever happened before?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I think the only reason it never happened before is that I had a strong bond with Frigg. I stayed with the same familiars."

Jon nodded.

I gestured to the food. "Eat. For I'm not pouring broth down your throat again."

A chuckle escaped him as he grabbed his bowl of stew. I grabbed my own as we ate in silence. I spoke the truth, for I did not want to warg at such a distance again. The pain was unforgettable, close to when Frigg died. Once done eating, I grabbed the bowls, put them on the tray, and carried them out. Once dropping them off, I came back to find Jon lying down.

"We should rest," Jon said.

I nodded, grabbed my blanket, and made my way to the nook, where there was a slight makeshift bed.

"Imogen," Jon was baffled by this.

I sat in the nook, "I gave Daenerys my cabin."

The information seeped in. Suddenly, Jon stood up, only to stumble. I rushed to his side immediately.

"What the fuck are you doing," I scolded.

"You take the bed," he said.

I shook my head. "Don't be ridiculous. You need to stay warm."

Jon shook his head. Suddenly, the ship struck rough waves, causing both of us to tumble into bed. We both groaned in pain, from the soreness in our bodies. I was on top of Jon while his hands were on my waist. We stare at each other, being close once more, only in a compromising position. I felt heat in my cheeks.

"Stay," he whispered.

I continue to stare at him.

"I…" I panted, trying to find the right words.

"I promise nothing will happen," he said.

I blushed, burning my face into his chest. "I'm gonna kill Tormund."

There was a slight rumble from his chest as Jon chuckled. The exhaustion won, as I conceded. Swallowing my pride, I help Jon get under the covers. I strip off my boots and outer layers, leaving my leggings and shirt before climbing into bed and getting under the covers.

Jon laid on his back while I was on my side. We stared at each other for a moment until sleep claimed us.

.o0o.

The sound of shuddering could be heard. I opened my eyes to see Jon still deep in his sleep, struggling with his frozen body. As I placed my hand on his arm, I still felt coldness on his skin. I thought Ser Davos and I had provided enough warmth with furs, bedwarmers, and hot liquids. But it seems it was not enough.

Based on instincts and the knowledge Snowylocks and Boudica taught me to treat those with this condition, I took a deep breath as I stripped my clothes, leaving my wrappings and small cloth on. Adjusting the furs and blankets, I wrapped myself around Jon, ensuring he got enough warmth. His arms wrapped around me.

Resting my head on his chest, I fell back to sleep.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon stirred as the early hours of dawn seeped into the room. For the first time in weeks, he felt truly warm. He tried to hide his chill, not wanting others to worry, knowing that in time, he would get better. Yet this warmth felt different, as there was a weight to it.

Slowly opening his eyes, he saw a mass of dark hair. He blinked a few times until realizing it was Imogen. He smiled a little, relaxing, as he secured his arms around her. Only to stop, realizing he felt the skin on her back. His body tensed, trying to recall anything from last night. All he could remember was the conversation they had, the dinner, and the slight dispute on the bed in which they shared. So why was Imogen naked on top of him? He had to grab his sides to be sure he had his trousers on. He sighed in relief to confirm they were there.

Gods, he might as well consider this torture. He tried to be respectful, respecting Imogen's boundaries. But this…this was not helping. Slowly, he tried to turn to his side to set Imogen down, yet she kept a firm hold. Sighing in defeat, he lay there.

Then, the realization hit why Imogen was undressed. His chills must have worsened last night when she had to make skin-to-skin contact. Giving her body heat to him.

Always selfless, Jon thought, as he kissed the top of her head.

After some time, Imogen stirred as she started to wake. She raised her head, the curtain of locks covering her face. Not thinking, Jon tucked the strands of hair off her face. Instantly, Imogen shot up, looking at him. Her silver eyes were wide, and blush dusted her cheeks.

He cradled her face, not wanting her to run, "Thank you."

Imogen took a deep breath, relaxing to his touch. Slowly, they leaned closer, until their lips were pressed together. The kiss deepened as his other hand roamed against her back, tracing along her spine and feeling the scars. Deepening the kiss, he slid his tongue through her lips and tasted her. The air became thick, their breaths being passed around. Her hand ran through his hair, pressing herself to him.

Jon could feel his erection grow, pushing against her waist. He palms her ass, noting the small cloth covering it. He groaned, sliding his hand under the fabric, making his way between her legs, feeling the curls that protected her wet heat. Imogen broke the kiss, panting, eyes closed.

Jon was about to go further when there was a knock on the door. The trance they were in snapped them out of it, as the cloudiness in her silver eyes sharpened. He stared at her, careful to remove his hand from her small cloth. Blush was still written on her cheek as she carefully climbed out and got off the bed. That was when Jon saw the extent of her injuries. As her chest was wrapped, shades of purple, pink, and blue decorated it.

"One moment," Imogen said, her voice rough from sleep and lack of air.

She grabbed her shirt and leggings. Pushing her hair aside as he saw the state of her back. Another massive bruise blended into the tattoo that was partially covered by the wrappings. The intricate design that the Children of the Forest left on her skin, of a heart tree with the image of a dragon and a raven entangled in the branches while a direwolf snared in the roots. Yet the image was damaged, with raised scars from the flogging.

Guilt washed over Jon, remembering that dreadful day as the desire he had a moment ago vanished.

The knocking continued while Imogen dressed, making herself descent before answering the door. Revealing Ser Davos with some food. The Onion knight stared between them as he glanced at Jon's status and the abandoned makeshift bed on the other side of the room.

"Hope I didn't interrupt anything," Ser Davos said.

"You woke us up," Imogen lied, giving a yawn.

Ser Davos nodded.

Jon would disagree.

Frozen body is my interpretation that the Wildlings called Hypothermia.

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