Mark_Ward
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Chapter 14: Warg
🕑 Added 2020-11-24 22:31:39 +0000 UTC2 Months Later!
Walking into the village with a few pieces of game he hunted, Jon carried on with the animal carcasses slung over his shoulder, and Fenrir right at his heel. People began to wave and greet him as if he was part of their community, a far cry from the first time he walked into here two months ago.
Coming to the little tent which was all his, he put his finger to his lips and blew a small low whistle. Coming out from behind his tent was Fafnir, the white direwolf, looking at her belly she really did look very pregnant with some pups now. Her stomach was bloated to disproportionate nature as new direwolves grew inside of her.
"Here you go," Jon said as he dropped the reindeer he hunted to the ground. He had to make sure to keep his girl well fed, and the mother of the direwolves his family might inherit.
Anyways reindeer were an interesting sort of creature he found here beyond the wall, they had so many practical uses for the free folk. In a land without horses, they were the main form of animal burden, plus there where even some tribes that used them for some form of calvary.
Fenrir nudged his mate to go ahead and eat, while he on the other hand tore into the Aurochs he hunted by himself. It was a massive type of wild cattle that inhabited this land, they were very powerful with mighty stature and were revered by a lot of tribes.
Already he had his men herd dozens of them alongside the Reindeers as well to be brought back to the North and be bred there. He already had two houses in particular that he wanted to gift to.
Which were namely House Umber and House Hornwood the principal bannermen of his house.
Getting a fire started, he cleaned the two arctic rabbits that would be his lunch and put them on the flame, and slowly watched as they got roosted.
His thoughts wandered to what he had been doing these past 2 months.
Besides finding some animals to bring North to bred there, he has also learned a lot about this culture and these people's way. Right now instead of being dressed in his woolen Northern fineries, he had animal hides on and some trinket made of animal bones.
He really did look like a wildling savage!
Just as his mind was drifting about, some one came to seat themself right next to him. Turning around to look at an O, so familiar face, he greeted them, "Hello, Ygritte!"
Right next to him was a beautiful redhead the same as her mother, with a round adorable face, pretty blue-grey eyes a mix of both her parents, smooth pale skin like all free folk, a dainty nose, and full lips.
He learned she was what was known as kissed by fire, a term used by the free folk to describe people with red hair. They consider red hair to be lucky and very attractive, legend has it among the free folk that they could warm you in the deepest coldest night.
"Hello to you," she replied back as she picked up one of the ready rabbits and took a bite of it.
"You know I did not season that," he intoned with a slight raise of his eyebrow. Picking up his rabbit and sprinkling some salt and other spices, and took a very savory bite out of it.
"You and you kneelers with your strange tastes," the red head shook her head, but still she held her rabbit out for him.
"What did you fall for our ways?" he asked with a grin as he put some spices on her rabbit too.
"No," she briskly replied, but he could see from how her face glowed as she stuffed her face with rabbit, that she had long ago succumbed to their ways.
After a long while of silence, as they ate their meal, Ygritte finally spoke up, "So I heard you are heading out."
"Yes, I plan to head further northward, " Jon answered not denying the fact. "But I would be back in my round trip," he tried to comfort her as he saw the flash of heart ache pass through her face.
"Well, I won't be here when you come back," she answered stiffly as she turned her head to him.
"Yes, you are joining the spearwives society," he noted. After spending a while here, he learned how this land operated, there were countless tribes that called this place home each feeding with each other endlessly.
Then there are villages with ancient Weirwood planted in the center, these are safe harbors where all might come and visit to trade and rest.
Finally, there are societies that go beyond any tribe or family. They are like organizations with different customs and duties. The Spearwives are a Wildling warrior society that only accepts women into their ranks.
Since Ygritte was now woman grown, at the ripe age of 16, she was able to join a society and go off into the world, and with that, she planned to form new sisterhoods with the Spearwives.
"Well, I wish you the best of luck," he said once he got no response back from her for a long while. Tossing his bones into the fire, he whistled to Fenir who lopped after him, and simply gave the red head one final glance.
Over the months, he had gotten awfully close to the wildling woman. He knew that this day would have eventually come no matter how much he wanted to delay it.
"I wish I can see you again," he murmured as he turned around and walked into the white landscape, he didn't notice it, but her shoulders tremored before they stilled. Fafnir looked at the red head with a sad look and a low whine, who had silent tears running down her cheeks.
Walking through the village, Jon came up in a dark secluded tent which was on the edge of the village. Letting himself in as he opened the tent flap, Jon walked in on a place with herbs laid about, strange totems made of animal bone, something suspicious simmering on the pot.
"Master Graldis," he bowed once his eyes landed on the form of a short old woman with a toothy grin and an owl perched on her shoulder. The snowy arctic owl, was just an old bird, but one that seem to have an almost human like intelligence behind its eyes as it stared at him.
"Aaa, you are here," the ancient woman noted with a raspy voice, "help me that," she ordered him.
Doing as commanded, Jon helped her around as they mixed up this strange concoction in the pot.
"I will be leaving tomorrow, Master," he spoke through the silence as the old woman stirred the pot.
"I know," she said not looking up to him, just continuing stirring her pot. "You have learned from me all that I could teach. It's time for you to go out into the world, and use it."
"Thank you," Jon said with a nod.
"Before you leave, however, there is one final rite left for you," she said as she took a ladle and poured the strange green concoction into a simple bowl. "Drink this," she commanded as he looked at him with her milky white eye that went blind long ago.
"What is it?" he asked as he looked down at the stuff which popped and roiled. He really wasn't too sure about this, it looked more like poison than anything else really.
"It will expand your consciousness," she answered, then smacking on the wrist with her ladle as he took a whiff of it and recoiled back, she said in a no nonsense tone, "Now drink, or do I have to redden your bottom like a little brat?"
Sighing Jon pinched his nose, and took a single swallow, best to get it over with now.
Then it was as if his whole world view expanded out, and he knew no more!
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Flashback, 2 Months Back!
Moving through the night, Jon felt himself pad through the snowy landscape on four feet instead of the usual two.
He could feel the icy wind blow through his fur.... not his skin as he caught a scent on the wind.
Slightly stalking his prey, he tried to still his beating hearts... hearts with a plural?
Shaking his head at the strangeness of it all, he heard a nearly silent growl and turned around to see a giant shadowcat much much larger than nay he had run into come out of the underbrush.
It looked at him menacingly as it stared at him with hate filled eyes, eyes that reminded him of a certain cloaked man back in the Grim lake tribe.
Trying to draw out his sword, all Jon unfurling was long sharp gleaming claws that glistened in the dark moon's glow. Then he and the shadowcat were at each other, fighting, tearing, biting, clawing, rendering each other.
It was not a fight of two men at all, but two ferocious beasts going at it against each other.
Finally, Jon was able to get his jaws at the shadowy creature's neck, and he was able to tear it out as blood rained down on to his soft black fur and the soft white ground.
Staring at the downed enemy with disgust, Jon walked away on two pairs of legs until he came up to a pond which was miraculously not frozen over in this cold atmosphere.
Staring at himself in the clear water, he didn't see the face of a man which he expected, but that of a direwolf, or more accurately Fenrir.
Then as if he came out of a dream, he sitting up in his fur lined bed roll back in the Whitetree village.
Taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart, Jon looked around wildly.
No direwolf, no shadowcat, and he wasn't even outside but back in the Whitetree village after the raid on Grim lake tribe and the expulsion of its people out of this land.
Laying back on his bed roll and staring up at the ceiling of the tent, Jon just couldn't shake off how vivid the dream was. It was like he truly was inside of Fenrir body- fighting, hunting, and running.
But that just wasn't possible....
Closing his eyes to try to get back to sleep, Jon was plagued by his vivid dream all night as he kept on recalling that very realistic dream.
It was only after long hours that he was able to get any shut eyes at all.
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"So," Orrand said, "I will have my wife, Myrne, and my daughter Ygritte teach you our ways."
Walking into the main hut of the village were two red head, one he had meet before, Myrne, Orrand's wife, the other was a much smaller version of the older woman with the same beauty that outshone anything in this hollow empty land.
However Jon wasn't paying attention or even trying to woo her, his mind was too preoccupied with what happened last night.
"We thank you, Orrand," Benjen, his uncle spoke up.
"This is the least I can do after you helped us get rid of those cannibals," the big grey eyed man stated.
"Why do I have to help these kneelers with anything," Ygritte scowled as she crossed her arms together with a deep set frown on her face.
"You will do as I say as long as you remain in my house," the big man reprimanded with a steely voice.
Scowling even deeper, she sniffed but said nothing more, glancing between them on had the feeling that they had these types of arguments along these lines many times over.
"You look distracted today," his nuncle noted as he peered at him.
"It's nothing," Jon shook his head.
"If you take issue with me not showing you our ways, then I mean no offense Stark," the big man announced as he took his meaning the wrong way. "I am busy most of the days leading the village, and to be honest my wife knows these things better than I."
"No, no, it's not that," Jon said as it sem that he would have to clarify himself. "It's just that I had the weirdest dream last night. I swear it was like I was running as Fenrir inside his body. I know, I know, it's unbelievable, but it felt so realistic. I just can't get it out of my head."
Husband and wife looking at each other as they shared a look and Ygritte perking up, even his nuncle looked at him weirdly.
"What?" Jon asked as he looked up to face all of them.
"I only heard rumors of this..." his nuncle began.
"It's not a rumor Stark," Orrand said with a shake of his head. "I thought you would have known better," he said as he looked up and down his nuncle with a slight raised eyebrow. "Your house was well known for producing their own."
"What's not a rumor?" Jon asked.
"I believe you will need to visit our village's Wise One," Myrne said, "its better if she explained to you.... your ability."
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"Ahhh, if it isn't our hero in the flesh," an old crone cackled as he walked into her tent.
Jon wasn't too sure about coming here all the way to the edge of the village in this dark secluded place, but as Orrand and his family put it, here he would find answers about his strange dream.
"Did you bring your bonded creature?" she suddenly asked as he let the tent flap fall behind him.
"Are you talking about Fenrir?" he asked as the warhorse sized direwolf barely made it through the tent flap with how big he was.
"To be bonded to a direwolf... what a very powerful bond indeed. You do not see that at all... except for the Starks," she spoke up, not looking at him at all, but the owl perched on her shoulder seem to stare at him closely.
"I am a Stark," Jon stated, then hesitating, "or at least I do have Stark blood in me."
He still had no clue what this old crone was going about, but he was respectful to her and cordial even if she was creepy as hell.
Deciding to cut to the heart of the matter, Jon begin, "I had a weird dream and I was told you could help clarify things for me."
"Yes, yes, a wolf's dream if I am to be correct."
"Yes..." Jon replied hesitantly, not knowing how she know what his dream was even though he hadn't told her anything.
"Do you know what you are?" she suddenly said, changing the topic.
He was about to answer he was a bastard, but he had the feeling that was not the answer she was looking for so he simply shook his head.
"According to ancient legends, your House, the Kings of Winter slew the Warg King at Sea Dragon Point along side all of his sons, beasts, and greenseers, but took his daughters as prizes in the process of establishing their hegemony over the North."
Then looking at him with her milky white eyes, she cackled, "you have ancient blood in you, Stark! Ancient blood that sings now that you have found your bonded beast!"
Recalling all the stories that Old Nan used to tell him as a child, Jon breathlessly said, "I am a Skinchanger!"
It all made sense really now that he thought about it, but it was out there and too absurd to even believe. However he did meet a man with Greensight so....
"So I can go inside the mind of beasts, command them to do as I say, and all that."
"Yes," the old crone answered, "and I could teach," she said with a toothless grin.
"Then please do, Master," he said with a bow.
He did not know who didn't, but of course he did want to learn how to skinchange. It sounded really, amazing and very neat. He wondered if he could teach his sibling or even his father and nuncle how to do it after he picked it up from the old crone.
The Warg King's blood was in their vein, so they had to have that ability.
