Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Warning: This chapter is rated M for sexual content.

Chapter 85: The Warning

Imogen's POV

It took nearly three weeks to reach King's Landing. None stopped riding, with small breaks in between as all of us were determined to get here. We stopped when reaching the territories, as I had Wynn scout the area to find the armies. It took a while, warging, until I found a safer route to get us there. Even though the Direwolves would stand out, we took precautions.

I also scouted the area, seeing that most gates were sealed off. Many people were waiting outside to get in, and they were sealed off only at night. I sighed, returning to my body, and stared at Sandor and Arya.

"Well?" Sandor asked.

"The armies have taken refuge in the coastal region," I answered.

"Any sightings of Jon?" Arya asked.

I shook my head. I did not see Jon or Ser Davos. In fact, I did not see any of the Unsullied forces. The armies I saw were the Northerners, Knights of the Vale, Dothraki, and two, which I assume were the Tyrell and Dornish forces. Either Jon was in a tent, or…he was not here. If he is not here, then where is he? I began to worry, wondering if there was an attack on the way over for him. However, I masked my emotions.

"We better get going," I said.

Sandor and Arya nodded. Having better knowledge of this area, Sandor took a secure route. On the way, we see soldiers making camp while some merchants try to sell their goods. Giving their support for House Targaryen. Although nervous with all of the Dothraki around.

We continue making our way to Northern Camps. However, we were stopped by a soldier. He paused, seeing the direwolves as he kept some distance.

"Ay up, where are you going?" the soldier asked.

"I'm Arya Stark," Arya spoke first.

The soldier's eyes widened, then turned to me, seeing I was on Skadi, "You're…"

I lowered the hood of my cloak, "I am Queen Imogen. I bring news from the North."

He stood there dumbfounded as he glanced between Arya, Sandor, and me.

"Will you escort us to King Jon," I said.

The soldier hesitated, still baffled by who was in front of him.

Ghost gave a bark, snapping the man out of it.

"Of course," the soldier said.

I nodded, getting off of Skadi, though I noticed Arya and Sandor did not do the same.

"Aren't you two coming?" I asked.

"I'm going to kill Queen Cersei," Arya answered.

"Arya," I warned.

"Think about it," Sandor said, focusing more on the soldier. "She kills Cersei, and the war's over. There won't be a siege. You might not even die."

The soldier nervously chuckled, "I need to talk to my captain."

"Go ahead, talk to him," Sandor said before heading off.

I stared at Arya, and her expression said not to bother arguing.

"Be careful," I told her.

Arya nodded, "Same as you."

With nothing else to say, she follows after Sandor.

I turned to the soldiers, looking at the one who was brave enough to speak, "Mind taking me to your captain."

The soldier fumbled and nodded as he led the way.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon's boat reached land when he, Tyrion, and Ser Davos got off. On the other boat were Ser Theodore and Ser Manyfrey. They were greeted by Lord Royce as he escorted them through the camps.

"The rearguard should be here by daybreak," Lord Royce reported.

"She wants to attack now," Tyrion announced,

"Unfortunately, the forces will not be ready until the day after tomorrow," Lord Royce said. "But we have been putting troops around King's Landing."

All eyes turned to Jon, "Day after tomorrow, but have everyone at the ready."

"Of course, your grace," Lord Royce said, then escorted the Tyrell and Dornish knights.

"Get some rest," Ser Davos advised.

Jon nodded as he excused himself before heading out. He made his rounds to ensure all was settled and informed the upcoming meeting tomorrow with the Lords and generals for the upcoming battle. They can't go straight into battle. All armies need to be assembled to discuss the updated strategy.

Once he had talked with his men, a captain of House Stark's army escorted him to his tent. Jon appreciated it as he followed. At first, he thought he would be issued a standard tent like all the other men. However, he was given a larger one for nobility. Jon took a deep breath, thanking the soldier before going inside. Thankfully, the tent was furnished with basic essentials, not finery as he had seen with previous lords. There was a makeshift bed, table, a few chairs, and other necessary items to provide comfort.

Jon made his way to the table, stripping his belt and setting Longclaw down.

He took another deep breath. As he thought, he was a third of it down. It has been a long month to get here. No, more than a month. All that was left was the blockage, the siege, and the capture of Cersei. Afterward, he can go home.

Go back to his family.

Especially with his decision.

Only if he survives this battle

He started to strip his armor, planning to go to bed early. As he got it off, his hand grabbed hold of the medallion, staring at the Dire design of the wild Starks. He thought about Imogen, wondering what she was doing now. He can only assume she is either with the Free Folk at Castle Black or settling down for the night in Winterfell.

He sighed, keeping the medallion on.

Suddenly, the tarp to his tent opened. Jon turned around and saw a hooded figure. Quickly, Jon grabbed Longclaw, drew his sword, and aimed it at the person. Aware there is a chance of assassins. Recalling Renly Baratheon being killed in his tent. The hooded figure stops before lifting a gloved hand and lowering the hood. Revealing Imogen.

Mixed emotions filled him.

"Is that how you greet your wife?" Imogen greeted.

"What in Seven Hells are you doing here?" Jon asked, trying to control his tone.

Imogen sighed, "Bran had a vision."

Jon blinked a few times as he sheathed Longclaw, "Bran, Rickon, Sansa –"

"They're safe and fine," she interrupted. "Winterfell and the North are fine."

Jon sighed in relief, taking a few deep breaths for the worry he had a moment ago. But he is still trying to understand why Imogen was here. Then he remembers her saying Bran had a vision. It must have been important if Imogen was here, one that couldn't be shared by ravens. But why couldn't it be a messenger, someone they trust? Why is Imogen here? He doesn't want her to be exposed to war anymore.

Imogen took a deep breath. "I know you're mad. But I understand what Bran saw. I had to be here."

Jon rubs his hand across his face, trying to suppress a frustrated groan. He lowers his hand, getting a better look at her, to see she, too, is exhausted. In other words, she traveled nonstop to get here. Her hair, though braided, is unfastening, and her clothes and armor are covered in grime from the journey. As much as he wants to be mad at her, he can't.

He made his way over, walking past her as he went outside to request meals be sent to his tent. The moment he opened the flaps, he was greeted by two direwolves. Ghost and Skadi are sitting there guarding the tent. There was some relief that Imogen did not come alone. Spotting one of the squires, he told him to have food sent to his tent. The soldier nodded, with a slight bow, and left.

Jon held back a snort since he did not like the bowing.

He returns to the tent to find his wife standing there. There is so much they need to talk about, except another part of him just wants to strip her down and take her. Should he argue or kiss her? If he kisses her, he might not be able to control himself.

Imogen removed her cloak, revealing she was in armor, with Dark Sister and dirk strapped to her belt.

Jon gestured for her to sit down at the table. Imogen could sense the tension and did as instructed, setting her pack down. Jon sat across the small table and stared at her.

"Did you come alone?" he asked.

Imogen shook her head. "Arya and Sandor escorted me here; however, they have their own objectives, and neither I nor anyone can stop them."

Jon took a deep breath, trying to maintain his frustration. He can suspect that Arya will try to complete her list; as for Sandor Clegane, it is no doubt revenge against the Mountain. A part of him was tempted to send a search party to go after them, yet he knew those men would either be injured or dead. His focus then went back to Imogen.

"You said Bran had a vision?" he murmured.

Imogen nodded.

"Was it something from the past or of King's Landing?" he asked.

Imogen took a deep breath. "Greenseers can look into the past and the present…but the future is never set in stone. It is never clear. But it can have a strong impact, like a memorable nightmare."

Jon felt his stomach tightened, "What did Bran see?"

Imogen stared at him straight in the eyes. "He saw a dragon burning King's Landing to the ground. Many innocent people burn. Enemies become heroes, and heroes become enemies. All shall die, and Westeros will fall into utter chaos."

Jon's eyes widened when hearing this.

"And there is another vision he saw," she added, as her eyes went to Longclaw, that was on the table.

Jon stared at his sword, "What else?"

Imogen tried to find her words, glanced around, and wondered, "Is it even safe to say it?"

Jon can sense her hesitation, as a tent doesn't give much privacy.

"Old tongue then," he suggested.

Imogen took a deep breath as she said it in words he would understand. "He saw Longclaw killing the mother of firelizards."

Jon almost gasped when hearing this. He stared at his sword, wondering why Bran saw a possible future of him killing Daenerys. It makes him wonder if Daenerys will not follow through with the plan. That she will burn King's Landing to the ground. He then stared at Imogen, now understanding why she was there. She was here to use her warg abilities to control Drogon if the vision came true.

She is willing to risk her life to protect those she doesn't know.

"You can't kill her…" she added. "No matter what….you can't kill her."

Jon realized why Imogen was warning him. Daenerys was his aunt; if he killed her, he would be a kinslayer. Jon wasn't devoted, as he knew there was nothing in the afterlife. However, the gods…the gods punish those who kill their kin. Imogen, being a spiritual person, risked her safety for him to save him physically and spiritually.

"I don't want to," he murmured, though his words came out terribly.

Imogen sighed as she took his hand. Jon took several deep breaths before taking her glove off and holding her hand properly. He felt the warmth and callousness on her skin.

"We'll figure this out," he promised.

Imogen nodded, entwining their fingers.

After a while, Jon separated their hands to maintain the burning need. Imogen sighed as she pulled her hand away.

"I know you're mad," she said.

"I wouldn't say mad," he grumbled, then sighed. "But you always found a loophole in a promise."

The first promise was the Battle of the Bastards, which she would not partake in after she took down the horses. Except she rushed in to save Rickon, and when the battle didn't seem to be in their favor, she stepped in. The second in which she truly kept her word was the expedition, leaving the team behind so she could contact Daenerys for help. And the third is to stay in Winterfell. Maybe Jon was selfish and wanted to keep Imogen safe. But Bran had a vision that Drogon might burn the city to the ground; thus…he needed a warg. As Imogen was the second most powerful warg after Bran.

Still, his behavior is not what he wanted it to be. They are almost back to where they started after Hardhome. She was his wife and the woman he loved, and he was making her distant. Knowing she came all this way at such a time shows her love and devotion to him.

He needed to make this right. He got up, walked over to her, and stopped when the squire called out, asking permission to enter and have their food. Jon sighed as he went to get it.

.o0o.

Imogen's POV

Jon and I ate dinner, though we were quiet. I could tell Jon was not happy, as he was brooding again. Even though we agreed that I would stay in the North, I couldn't stay there after Bran had that vision—that the chances of Jon being killed were greater than before.

Once dinner was done, I remained where I was. I was so exhausted from a long journey. I had expected Jon to be displeased, but what's done is done. I am here now, and he needs to accept it. It doesn't help that the journey was rough, especially when I had my bleeds. For I had some disappointment, yet I remained quiet.

Suddenly, Jon knelt in front of me. I blinked a few times, not expecting it. Jon took my hand, his way of showing affection.

"Let's get some rest," Jon said.

I nodded as Jon helped me up. Once on my feet, Jon wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Jon apologized. "It's just a lot to take in."

"I know," I murmured. "I understand."

He adjusted, so we stared at one another, "I don't want you in the battle."

"When is it?" I asked.

"The day after tomorrow," he answered.

I took a deep breath, staring into his eyes, "I will stay on Skadi and focus on Drogon."

Jon took a deep breath and nodded.

"I hope it doesn't come to that," he said.

"As do I," I agreed.

Jon rested his forehead against my own. I relaxed. Not long after, Jon gave me a soft kiss. I hummed, kissing him back in the same manner. It has been too long since I felt his lips on my own. We kissed for a moment until we pulled away to breathe. I could feel the fire building up again, yet the exhaustion lingered. All I wanted to do was strip my clothes and lay down in my husband's arms.

Jon seemed to have the same feeling. We pulled away as we started getting ready for the night. I changed into fresh clothes, appreciating them, not caring if they were men's clothing. Followed by a basin of water to wash myself. I sat on the bed, brushing my hair and getting the knots out. As I brushed, I watched Jon standing over the table where a map was set.

Setting the comb down, I got up and made my way over to him. He seemed so focused on the map that I managed to get behind him and wrap my arms around him. Jon tensed for a second, then relaxed. I nuzzled into his back, breathing in his scent.

"Come to bed," I murmured.

"I will in a moment," he replied, resting a hand on my own.

I remained where I was, still holding him.

After a few moments, Jon sighed, turning around my arms and staring at me. I stared into those dark orbs. Jon cradled my face, combing his fingers through my locks.

I lean into his touch, "I missed you."

His lips twitched up slightly, "Is that so."

I nodded.

Jon then kissed me again. As we kissed, he said between our lips, "I don't think I can hold back."

I nipped his bottom lip, "Then don't."

Nearly two months cannot sate our hunger for one another. Jon groaned as we were entangled with one another, and Jon lifted me up and set me on the table. His hands stripped me of my clothes, presenting me naked to him. He muttered something, pulling me towards him, kissing me with such hunger. I moaned against his mouth as he pushed me down on the flat surface, my body arching into him. Jon pulled back, discarding his shirt before his hands stroked my waist and hips. I clung to his shoulders, my body shivering from the burning heat within and the slight chill in the air.

Jon broke the kiss, panting to catch his breath. His calloused hand cupped my breast, giving a squeeze before bringing it up to claim in his mouth. I bit my lip, trying to silence myself, as the soldiers were out. Bringing him closer, combing my fingers through his curls before undoing the small bun that kept his hair out of his face.

Unable to contain himself, as all Jon's restraint vanished, he pulled me into a hard embrace, kissing me once more. The heat of his tongue entangled with my own. His scarred chest pressed against my breasts, feeling his warmth. Igniting the embers to a burning blaze within me. Breaking the kiss, he panted against my mouth as he pushed his hands between my thighs.

I spread them wide, not resisting, giving him better access to my core. Once more, his lips were on my own, sliding two fingers inside me. Already, I was aroused and wet, yet he continued to move his fingers inside me, stretching me, preparing what was to come while his lips silenced my moans.

"Please," I whimpered against his lips, rocking my hips urgently.

Jon groaned as he worked on the trousers, freeing his cock. When he brought his hips to mine, I rubbed against his hardening. Jon cursed under his breath, pushing himself in, coming back home to me. I nearly cry out, feeling the stretch, yet I tighten my lips together to stay silent. My legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. Jon thrusts deep inside me before partially pulling out. He let out a low moan and thrust again harder.

"I can't hold back," he ground out.

"Don't…hold back…" I panted, arms secured onto his back, keeping him close.

I moved my hips against him, ignoring the slight pain, for I did not care. Jon groaned, digging his fingers into my hips, trying to restrain himself. Not having that, I squeezed my inner core, causing him to lose control and begin to thrust into me rapidly,

"Imo…gen," he panted.

"Jon," I gasped.

I cradle his face, wanting to see those dark eyes. Not a moment longer, he crushed his lips against my own. His beard grazed my jaw. Our bodies came together again and again, becoming one. I was so close as I could feel him; he was about to reach his pinnacle. Several more thrusts and Jon came, spilling his seeds. Our lips are still locked as we both cry out together, silencing one another. The pleasure seared into my bones as my body trembled under him.

We were a heaping mess as I was on the table with Jon leaning on top of me. Our bodies still join, as I can still feel him. He lifted his head, staring at me, as I stared back at him. Combing my fingers through his hair. All the stress and frustration left our body, except now, I only wanted to sleep. Jon sensed it, too, as he carefully pulled out. I gasped, feeling the sensation as his seeds and my essence dripped out slightly.

Jon noticed this before he grabbed my clothes and helped me up.

"You missed me that much?" I asked.

"More than you can imagine," he answered as he gave me a kiss.

We put on our clothes before going to bed. We ensured the candles were out, except for the brazier, to provide warmth. We got under the furs and blankets and curled up to one another. Our faces closed as we stared at each other. Jon pulled me closer so my face was buried into his chest, his hand rubbing my back.

"There's something I need to tell you," He whispered.

I hummed, tracing his chest.

"I'm planning on abdicating," he whispered, low so I could hear. "Once all of this is done, and the North is settled."

My eyes widened, yet Jon kept me where I was.

"I don't feel like a king," he murmured, then he gave a slight chuckle. "Tormund was right. I belong in the Real North. The True North." He then sighed. "I'm done with politics. I'm done with everything. I just want a simple life."

"Jon," I whispered.

He loosens his hold, allowing me to look at him. " Do you think your family will allow us to stay in Lunar Haven?"

My eyes watered because I had missed my birthplace and wanted to bring Jon there. I nodded, giving him a kiss. Jon kissed me back. It was soft and gentle, expressing our feelings but not going further. After a while, we pulled back.

"I'll take that as a yes," he murmured.

"Yes," I confirmed as I traced his neck. "But if we are to live in Lunar Haven, your crest will need to be on your neck."

Jon took my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, "As long as it is from your hands."

I smiled softly, which Jon returned.

As much as we would want to talk, exhaustion claimed us. We lay in each other's arms, falling into oblivion.

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