Warg Maiden

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

Chapter 70: A Single Hand

Jon's POV

Jon had woken early before the sun had risen. He had one knee hunched, resting his arm on it while his attention was focused on the woman beside him. He needed a distraction, a way to stop spiraling after learning of his parentage. Yet a part of him knew it was not honorable, but the rest of him was pleased.

Then again, they both needed it.

Damn, he needed to make this right before he got Imogen pregnant. Even though Imogen can brew some tansy tea, or he can ask Maester Walkon to make moon tea, it doesn't seem right. How she must take the burden for her body to drink the potions that will prevent her from having a child. And yet, they couldn't stop last night. As they took each other in more ways than one. Seeing her expressiveness and pleasure because of him.

Jon thought about the next steps in the courtship. A gift of nature. A flower. It seemed a bit too soon to give her a flower. They had started their courtship only a few months ago. However, they have known each other longer. Nearly two years.

This woman doesn't seek power or titles or anything.

Only survival.

Not for her in selfish means, but for their people.

It was clear Jon was in love. He never thought he would fall in love again after what happened to Ygritte. Feeling like he was unworthy. As if he falls faster than ever, becoming a hopeless romantic. A snort escaped him; he was a romantic when he couldn't even give a good compliment.

Over the next hour or so, Jon thought about his fate. All this time, he was not a bastard. He was raised as one, succumbing to mental and emotional abuse by Lady Catelyn and several members of the staff. Denied certain privileges. Followed by the debate about who was considered the heir of Winterfell. All those hardships over a lie. Ned Stark did not break his vows or fall into weakness, but he did the most honorable in raising his nephew as his own.

Jaehaerys Targaryen. That was his name. The name his mother had chosen for him. A prince. All this time, he was a prince. Going back through his knowledge, he had half-siblings. Siblings he will never know because they were brutally murdered by the Mountain.

Jon sighed, wondering what his life would have been. Then he realized that even if he was raised as a prince, he wouldn't have a somewhat decent childhood. Ghost wouldn't be in his life. He wouldn't have met his friends in the Night's Watch from Sam, Pyp, Grenn, and Edd. He wouldn't have met Ygritte and Tormund. And most of all, as he turned to the sleeping woman beside him, he wouldn't have met Imogen.

Never did he want to be king.

He has seen what desires lead to in Stannis and Daenerys.

He can barely rule the North; the Seven Kingdoms might actually burn if he ruled them all. Another snort left him at the thought. Jon never asked to be king. Thus, he made his decision. He will continue his life as Jon Snow. Not Jaehaerys Targaryen.

A soft stir could be heard as Imogen turned in her sleep. Jon stared at her, getting a better view of her neck. Already, his mark had claimed her neck. For some reason, his inner beast wanted to claim her as his. Therefore, if they survived this, he would take the next step.

Suddenly, there was pounding on the door.

Imogen stirred once more.

Jon cursed under his breath as he got out of bed, grabbing his trousers off the floor and putting them on.

The pounding continued.

"I'm coming," Jon called out. He grabbed the abandoned shirt off the floor and put it on.

He glances over his shoulder, seeing Imogen had hidden herself under the furs and blankets. Even though the angle from the door to the bed would be obscured, it was better to be safe than sorry. When Jon answered the door, he realized it was Rickon.

"What's going on?" Jon asked.

"We have company," Rickon answered, though his tone said it all.

"The Crown's army is here?" Jon asked hopefully.

Rickon shook his head, "Jaime Lannister came alone."

Alone, Jon thought in shock.

"Bran spotted him and summoned everyone to the Great Hall," Rickon added.

Jon nodded, "I'll be there in a moment."

Rickon nodded as he left. Jon closed the door as his anger stirred him. A part of him hopes that Ser Jaime came in advance to get everything ready. But another part of him knows that Cersei Lannister did not send the Crown's army. Maybe Ser Jaime had brought the Lannister Army? Jon grunted, knowing that would be a lie.

"Jon."

Jon took a deep breath as he made his way over, picking her clothes off the floor. Afterward, he made his way over to the bed. Imogen had sat up yet kept the furs close to her chest. Her hair was disheveled as it cascaded all over her body, and her silver eyes seemed to illuminate.

A wild beauty, Jon thought to himself.

"What's going on?" Imogen asked, a voice deep from sleep.

Jon sighed as he sat down, "I don't think Cersei sent her army."

Imogen made a strange protest, "What do you mean?"

"Rickon says only Ser Jaime Lannister arrived, no sightings of the Lannister Forces or the Crown's army," he explained.

Imogen blinked a few times, "But she saw the wight. She gave her word."

Jon took a deep breath, "Seems we still can't trust Lannisters."

Imogen blinked a few times, grasping his words. "So… the expedition was for not?"

The guilt was haunting them, knowing many men died and that Tormund and his men died for nothing. That the Brotherhood without Banners died for nothing. The week they had starved while fighting wights. Or that Imogen risked her life by contacting Daenerys. All that hard work and sacrifice for not.

Jon looked at her, "We will figure this out."

Imogen took a deep breath and nodded.

Wanting to comfort her, he cradled her face and kissed the top of her head. Afterward, resting his forehead against her own. They stay like this momentarily, and Jon can see why the Dires do it. It was a way to be closer and show understanding. Afterward, he pulled back, pressing a chaste kiss on her lips before getting up. They quickly freshened up and got dressed.

.o0o.

Jon sat in the center of the Royal Table with Sansa on his right and Daenerys on his left as they faced Ser Jaime Lannister. Many of the Lords and Ladies of the North filled the Small Hall along with the Wildling Council and volunteers. Bran and Rickon were in the corner, and Jon noted the conflict Bran had, staring at the man who possibly ruined his life.

The supposed Head of House Lannister stood there no longer looking like the Kingsguard that came to Winterfell many years ago, nor the Lannister General back at the Armistice. Instead, a mere sellsword with a gilded hand stood there, weather-worn. He was no longer groomed, as the gold that was once in his hair had darkened and a beard on his face.

No words were said in the Small Hall as everyone expressed their disappointment to the Kingslayer.

Daenerys was the first to speak, "When I was a child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story…about the man who murdered our father. Who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor?"

Ser Jaime stared at Daenerys, as his green eyes were no longer vibrant with confidence. Jon was conflicted about knowing the truth about his parentage. That Ser Jaime slayed his grandfather. Yet Jon knew that King Aerys, the second, had gone mad, killing anyone who he deemed as a threat with Wildfire. Even his own grandfather, Lord Rickard Stark, and Uncle Brandon. Thus, he did not hold the same resentment as Daenerys. A girl born and raised in exile.

"He told me other stories as well." She continued sharply. "About everything we would do to that man…once we took back the Seven and had him in our grasp."

Ser Jaime kept a strong face, but his eyes deceived him like a coat of water shined his eyes. It was as if Ser Jaime regretted that fateful day.

"Your sister pledged to send her army north," Daenerys reminded coldly.

"She did," Ser Jaime confirmed.

"I don't see an army," Daenerys sneered, slightly raising her hands and gesturing to no one in Lannister's armor. "I see one man, with one hand. It appears your sister lied to us."

Ser Jaime glanced at Tyrion, who held the same disappointment.

"She lied to me as well," Ser Jaime announced. "She never had any intention of sending her army north. She has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and twenty-thousand fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos was bought and paid for. Even if we defeat the dead, she'll have more than enough to destroy the Survivors."

Jon mentally cursed. This is not how it was supposed to go, as he could sense the anger stirring. He looked around, keeping his composure, as Imogen stood with the Wildling Council, whispering and translating for Old Tongue members. Fenrir and Boudica stood there, though they had their wolf masks on.

"'We'?" Daenerys snapped.

Ser Jaime straightened his back, "I promise to fight for the living. I intend to keep that promise."

Jon stared at Ser Jaime. Even though he struggles to read a woman, he can see through a man. Jon can tell that Ser Jaime was being honest and that he came to fight in the Great War. Even if he came alone, knowing that Cersei's betrayal could end his life.

Tyrion steps forward, "Your Grace, I know my brother-"

"Like you know your sister?" Daenerys interrupted.

Tyrion stood his ground, "He came here alone, knowing full well how he'd be received. Why would he do that if he weren't telling the truth?"

"Perhaps, he trusts his little brother to defend him, right up to the moment he slits our throats," Daenerys suggested, trying to maintain her anger.

"You're right. We can't trust him."" Sansa spoke, agreeing with Daenerys. "He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my house and my family, the same as he did yours."

"Do you want me to apologize?" Ser Jaime snapped. "I won't. We were at war. Everything I did, I did for my house and my family. I'd do it all again."

"The things we do for love," Bran said from his spot.

Jon glanced at Bran, seeing his brother's neutral expression, yet dark eyes burning. It was as if he was using Ser Jaime's words against them. This caught Ser Jaime off guard. Bran had them know what he saw, which led him to be crippled. They all had suspicions, yet Bran told them he was only climbing the abandoned tower for fun until he heard something. Bran's curiosity got the better of him as he went to investigate. At first, he thought he saw Ser Jaime fucking one of the royal handmaidens, only a moment later to reveal it was Queen Cersei. Cersei demanded Ser Jaime kill Bran, pushing him out the window.

The conflict in everyone in all the strive Ser Jaime has done to everyone.

Jon knew he had the final say.

"So why have you abandoned your house and family now?" Daenerys asked.

"Because this goes beyond loyalty," Ser Jaime answered, glancing over his shoulder at the Northern council. Precisely to a woman, Lady Brienne of Tarth. "This is about survival."

Lady Brienne stood up as she walked over to stand next to Ser Jaime.

"You don't know me well, Your Grace. But I know Ser Jaime. He is a man of honor. I was his captor once. But when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me. And lost his hand because of it." She then turned her attention to Lady Sansa. "Without him, my lady, you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he'd sworn an oath to your mother."

Sansa was baffled by this announcement. Learning what Ser Jaime has done for Lady Brienne and me, she bobbed her head, thinking about the decision.

"You vouch for him?" Sansa asked.

"I do," Lady Brienne answered firmly.

"You would fight beside him?"

"I would." Lady Brienne confirmed.

Lady Sansa nodded, "I trust you with my life. If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay."

Lady Brienne nodded, returning to her seat.

Sansa stared at Jon, giving her approval. He then glances at Bran and Rickon, who silently nods.

"What does the King in the North say about it?" Daenerys asked.

Jon took a deep breath as he stared at the fallen knight, "We need every man we can get."

Ser Jaime sighed in relief as he nodded.

Daenerys inhaled sharply but nodded.

Ser Davos, who had custody of Ser Jaime's sword, came over, giving it back to Ser Jaime. Once Ser Davos returned to his spot, Ser Jaime stared at Jon, giving a bow.

"Thank you, Your Grace."

Jon did not like it. For it reminded him of signing the document requesting aid from Roose Bolton. Needing to get away, he stood up, as Daenerys and Sansa did as well. Not saying a word, he took the back entrance, wanting to be alone.

.o0o.

Imogen's POV

I started my way to go after Jon to make sure he was alright. However, the moment I was near the door, Summer stopped me. I paused, staring at the direwolf, then turned my attention to Bran and Rickon.

"He needs a moment," Bran said.

I sighed but nodded. The Starks have told me many times about their past with the Lannisters. If not, Jon informed me that Lord Baelish had a part in manipulating the feud until now. I thought the kneelers had some sort of code of honor. But Cersei Lannister does not go by it. A part of me wanted to join Daenerys to kill Cersei in the death she had allowed.

Now Jon is stuck, as we don't know when the Night King will strike.

"We need to practice," I told Bran.

Bran nodded.

Rickon pushed Bran's chair as we made our way to the Godswood. Summer followed along, and the moment we came outside, Skadi joined us. I sighed, for I was going to dread this moment. Once in the Godswood, I felt a little bit of peace, sensing the god's presence.

I faced Rickon, "Why don't you go and see what needs to be done."

Rickon shook his head, "No, I want to stay and help."

"It's alright," Bran assured. "He can stay."

I took a deep breath, staring at Rickon, "What you are about to see cannot be spoken."

"What do you mean?" Rickon asked.

"Bran and I will have to break a sacred law," I told him. "If any Free Folk hears about it, Bran and I would be punished. Even if I consent to it."

"What are we doing?" Bran asked.

"You and I will have to make a chain," I explained. "Once I cast the spell, the Raven will seek you out. The moment he does, before he takes root, you have to thrust his spirit into me, and I will place The Raven back into the Night King."

"You're gonna warg into the Night King?" Bran asked, surprised. "Is that possible?"

"Hopefully, it is," I sighed.

However, it came with a price. I could either die from it or lose my sanity. I will take the burden to ensure Bran survives this ordeal. But I do not say it.

"So…how are you going to do it?" Rickon asked.

"Skadi is going to be the Night King," I answered.

Skadi made a protest whine. As if she was insulted to be called the Night King. The boys chuckle at this, as do I. Thus, Bran and I practice warging, as I have to practice with him in my head while transporting the both of us to Skadi. There was no illusion of a land. It was a dark void. In the void, Bran was able to stand on his own two feet. I kept a firm grip on him, as we didn't succumb to oblivion as we made our way to Skadi.

It was tedious as I took the blunt to ensure Bran was safe.

When I grabbed Bran's forearm, I felt a short rush of pure ice through me. I stared at Bran in the void, and Bran stared at me, sensing the coldness as well. This broke the connection as I hunched over, feeling the coldness in my veins. Standing up, I made my way over to Bran, grabbing his right arm and yanking the sleeve down to reveal five scars wrapped around. Almost a handprint. They were blue, similar to the shade of the eyes of the Others.

Rickon stared between us.

"When?" I demanded.

Bran tried to yank his hand away, but I kept a firm grip.

"A few days before the Night King came to the burrow," Bran mumbled. "He saw me in the vision…. he snuck up on me and grabbed me."

I took several deep breaths while cursing in Old Tongue.

"Is something wrong?" Rickon asked.

"Bran's been bound," I answered. "No matter where Bran is, the Night King will find him."

The next step was trying to create distance. I had Bran send the Raven's spirit to me while he was in a safe location. I just did the Godswood, knowing that is what the Three-Eyed Raven foretold. The presence of the Old Gods would lend spiritual aid. After this, we would try different locations, with Bran in the Great Hall.

"What does that mean?" Rickon asked.

"It means Bran will have to fight alongside me," I answered.

Rickon's eyes widened, while Bran's eyes narrowed, realizing this was serious.

"Again," Bran said.

I nodded.

Several times we did this. In the beginning, the chain would break that had me on the ground, and Bran clutched his head. Or Skadi whimpering in pain. Rickon would help us out by being a lookout. We continue this multiple times until I know for sure that Bran can handle it.

It was nearing high noon when we took a break.

That was when someone entered the ring of the weidwoods. It was Ser Jaime. As he cautiously made his way over to us.

"May I have a word?" Ser Jaime asked.

"I don't think that's wise," Rickon said as he stepped in front of Bran, shielding his brother.

I stood there on guard, resting my hand on Dark Sister.

Bran stared at Ser Jaime, evaluating this. "Yes, you can."

Rickon stared at Bran in disbelief.

"Rickon, show Imogen the Godswood," Bran instructed.

"I won't leave you," Rickon said.

"I'll be fine, Summer will stay," Bran assured.

Rickon hesitated as the silver direwolf adjusted himself to sit in front of Bran. Cautiously, Rickon nodded as he led Skadi and me away from the two. Although, we only made it to a weirwood, a massive one. As I gestured Skadi to continue. I pulled Rickon to the side, ensuring we were covered. I covered the boy's mouth to keep him quiet as I silently warg into Summer.

Summer let me as I stared through his eyes.

Ser Jaime looked down at Bran, ashamed, "I'm sorry for what I did to you."

"You weren't sorry then," Bran glared at Ser Jaime, then sighed. "You were protecting your family. "

Ser Jaime shook his head, walking around to be in front of Bran. "I'm not that person anymore."

"You still would be if you hadn't pushed me out of that window," Bran said.

"Are you angry at me?" Ser Jaime asked.

"I was when I remembered," Bran answered. "But not anymore."

"Why didn't you tell them?" Ser Jaime asked, confused.

"I did," Bran answered. "And in that moment, Jon let me decide. You won't be able to help us in this fight if I let them murder you first."

Ser Jaime nodded slightly, "What about afterward?"

"How do you know there is an afterward?" Bran countered casually.

Those green eyes widened, for Bran hinted at the knights' possible deaths.

No words were exchanged as I warg back into my body. I need to end this conversation before Bran says something that will prevent the future from happening.

I lean into Rickon's ear, "Run back like you did something naughty."

Rickon stared at me for a moment with a smirk as he grabbed some snow off the ground and tossed it in my face. I gasped, not expecting it, as Rickon began to run back.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon was making his rounds, ensuring Winterfell was ready for battle. Disappointment is one way to describe how he felt, for he had some hope that the Lannisters would put aside their pride and partake in the Great War. Instead, only Ser Jaime Lannister arrives.

Everything was not going to plan.

Their numbers, maybe even to the Army of the Dead.

No Crown or Lannister forces.

The tension between the Northerners and the Targaryen Army.

Oh, and he is also a Targaryen.

Secrets and lies were piling on top of one another, making it difficult for him to breathe and think. The trenches were already set, as were traps from the Wolfswood to the cavalry line, including the catapults and trebuchets. There was also a barricade being built, yet they only managed to get it built on the north side. But with the time they had and the ground near as stone, it was not tall enough and possibly not sturdy enough.

The plan is to create resistance to postpone the wights so the dragons can burn them in one spot.

Jon's head was still spiraling. As he tried to come up with more strategies. A headache was forming. Right now, he needed solace. As he started looking for Imogen. As Sansa said in passing, she went with Bran and Rickon to the Godswood. No doubt Imogen was preparing Bran for the duel with the Night King. Jon wasn't sure what they would be doing.

"Jon," a voice called out.

Jon turned around to see Lord Overton leaning on his cane. Jon barely had a chance to talk to Lord Overton. Then again, the older lord has been occupied with educating Lady Alys and Lord Ned. Keeping true to his word. Jon approached Lord Overton at the inner curtain, staring down as the people prepared for the battle. Most of all, the area was empty giving them privacy.

"It's never easy when war has reached one's home," Lord Overton murmured. "On the regular, I had men prepare for Wildlings who do harm to protect the villages, towns, and hamlets. Never thought of Wight Walkers and dead men."

Jon sighed in understanding.

Then Jon thought of something. Lord Overton fought alongside Ned Stark in Robert's Rebellion…did he know.

"Can I ask you something?" Jon spoke quietly.

Lord Overton turned his attention to Jon.

"You fought alongside my father during the Rebellion?" he continued.

"Which one?" Lord Overton asked.

"Robert's Rebellion," Jon clarified.

Lord Overton nodded, "Aye, I have."

"Were you among the seven men who went to the Red Mountains…in Search of Lyanna Stark?" Jon asked.

Lord Overton stared at Jon as his bushy hair nearly masked his expression. As if contemplating something, as if he knew as well. Other than Lord Howland Reed, who is at the Neck, Lord Overton was the only survivor of that day.

"Who told you?" Lord Overton sighed, looking down.

"It's complicated, but I need to know for sure," Jon said.

Lord Overton took a deep breath as he stared out ahead. "It was after the Sacking of King's Landing and the siege of Storm's End. Ned got word where Lyanna was, asking seven men to join him. We made our way to the Red Mountains, towards the Tower of Joy. We found Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Gerold Hightower standing guard there. They would not tell us where Lady Lyanna was until we heard her cries of agony. We thought the worst, that she was being tortured or killed, and we fought. Eight men from the North again, three Kingsguard. As I managed to give the killing blow to Ser Oswell."

Jon listens to this.

"Ned was almost killed by Ser Arthur, yet Howland managed to sneak up behind the knight, stabbing him, which Ned finished him off. I stayed behind to guard and collect the dead. After an hour or so, none came, and I worried for the worst, making my way when the door opened. At first, I expect Ned to carry an injured Lyanna. Instead, he held a little bundle in his arms. A newborn with dark eyes and a slight mop of dark hair."

Jon's eyes widened.

"I was no fool, neither was Howland, as we carried Lady Lyanna's remains to the carriage." Lord Overton continued. "The Wet Nurse, Wylla, told us everything. Ned had a choice…and we all knew any choice we made would be treason. Therefore, under Lyanna's wishes, Ned took you in and named you Jon. For your birth name would have you killed. Howland and I were sworn to keep this secret."

Jon took several deep breaths.

"When I heard how you were treated growing up, I had offered to make you my ward," Lord Overton continued. "Your mother was kind to me. Not afraid of this burly man. Even introduced me to my wife, who was her friend. Lady Catelyn almost accepted, yet you caught the pox, one that almost claimed your life, and Lady Catelyn changed her mind."

Jon was surprised to hear this.

"But now here you are," Lord Overton said with a smile. "Once Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, now King in the North. Your Mother would be proud."

Jon took a deep breath.

"Do not let blood decide your fate or the expectation of inheritance," Lord Overton said. "If you want to be a king, then be a king. If you want to leave it all and seek adventure, then do so. Do what feels right for you."

Jon looked at him, appreciating it, "Thank you."

Lod Overton nodded, "At least I confessed my secret before my death."

Jon frowned at this. Though weak, Lord Overton was willing to fight. Based on his age and condition, there was no doubt Lord Overton would not make it. Jon stared at a soldier willing to die for the North once more. For House Stark. The older man stood up, patting Jon on the back.

The sound of a horn caught their attention. Jon stopped wondering if Lord Umber had returned with his people. Unless more houses from the North have sent more men. So far, they had people from the Wall to central parts of the North. Lord Overton gestured him to go. Jon nodded, squeezing Lord Overton's shoulder before leaving.

As he came out to the courtyard, he saw a handful of horses with double riders. He spotted Edd and saw him getting a hug from Sam. The two embraced in a brotherly way. Jon was pleased to see his two friends from his years on the Wall. He made his way over, excited and relieved, when all of a sudden, a massive weight tackled him. Jon nearly fell when a boom of laughter caught him from crashing into the gravel. He looked up, seeing Tormund. Both men chuckled, glad to see his wild friend alive as well.

"My little crow," Tormund chuckled.

"I thought we'd lost you," Jon panted, catching his breath.

"Almost," Tormund said, shaking his shoulder.

Jon nodded before giving Edd a proper hug. He also noticed Lord Beric was alive, so he leaned over and gave the man a handshake. Once he was done, he pulled back, looking at Edd.

"How did you find each other?" Jon asked.

"We met up at the Last Hearth," Edd answered.

"The dead got there first," Tormund added.

"The Umbers?" Jon asked, taking a deep breath.

"Fighting for the Night King now," Lord Beric answered.

"We had to travel around them to get here," Tormund said. "Whoever's not here now is with them."

"How long do we have?" Jon asked.

"Before the sun comes the day after tomorrow," Tormund guessed. He looked over his shoulder, "The big woman still here?"

However, Jon did not think about Tormund's statement. They barely have a day left.

"We better assemble the war council," Sam advised.

Jon nodded in agreement, calling for everyone.

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