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A Prince of House Targaryen Chapter 20 (The Wildling Princess Val)
🕑 Added 2022-07-24 18:28:30 +0000 UTCJon Snow
The bastard boy stood in front of the door that led inside the chamber where Maester Aemon resides; the guard following him knocked on the door roughly, with a disgusted look on his face.
"Old dragon, someone is here to see you," he spoke with a sneer in his voice; Jon figured he must be a Baratheon loyalist to have a personal vendetta against Maester Aemon.
Jon ignored his nasty tone towards the Maester; he heard an old voice coming from the other side of the door.
"Come in,"
The guard made a disgusted face before walking away; Jon slowly opened the door, a metal sound coming from the rotten metal that connected the door with the doorframe.
The maester was sitting in a chair, his eyes half-closed and blind, his hair long gone except for a few strands of white hair at the top of his head; despite his old age, his skin looked much younger than that of old nan who should be a few decades younger than the old dragon maester, Jon wondered just how old he was, a kind smile on his face, as his eyes went to Jon.
The bastard could tell he was blind, yet when his eyes made contact with his, for a moment, he could have sworn that the maester could see him somehow.
"Come closer, my boy, don't stand there," the old maester finally spoke, with a wave of his hand, gesturing for him to get closer. That seemed to make Jon escape his thoughts; with a loud cough, he closed the door behind him before walking over to the maester.
Scooting out a chair, he sat down; the only sound in the room was the sound of the fire cracking in the fireplace.
"What can I do for you, my boy? Your steps are light; you must be a young one!" The maester spoke, his voice old but wise, the smile not leaving his face.
Jon wondered how he could tell that he was young just by listening to his footsteps; he decided to ignore that and just get straight to the point; the wise maester didn't have time to hear him asking questions about footsteps.
"An old friend of yours told me to give you this message," Jon finally spoke, his hands spread on the table.
The maester had no visible reaction to his words other than raising his eyebrow, leaning a bit closer. "Message, what message, young lad?" He asked with a neutral tone, not showing any kind of emotions.
"When the Winter comes, the Dragons will be reborn; their flames will show the way to a new Age of Summer," Jon spoke the message that Bloodraven had given him.
The moment his words left his mouth, The Old maester's mouth widened slightly before closing; for a few seconds, he was silent before a soft smile spread across his old face, for a moment making him look young again.
His shaky hands moved from underneath the table before moving towards Jon, who had a puzzled look on his face, not understanding what the old maester wanted to do.
"Can I?" He asked, his voice sounding happy; Jon simply leaned forward, the old maester's hands touching his cheek, jawline, cheekbones, and chin. What could be described as a bitter laugh escaped his lips, his hands moving away.
"What is your name, my boy?" Old maester asked with a kinder tone that reminded Jon of his father whenever he was happy with him.
"Jon Snow, the bastard of Ned Stark," Jon said; the maester allowed himself to lean back against the chair, and a tired sigh escaped his lips, murmuring something Jon couldn't hear.
"If Bloodraven has sent you here, then this belongs to you," the old maester spoke, standing up, using his hands on the table to support himself, Jon stood up, walking over to him, helping him, but it seemed despite his old age, the old maester could still easily walk.
"Behind the furniture, you should find a box, my boy," he spoke; Jon nodded before walking over to the furniture, moving it away; the furniture was quite heavy to move away, and a box revealed itself behind it, the box was covered in dust, the top covered in skin, with no lock, the metal rusty and weak.
Jon lifted the box before dropping it on the table gently out of fear that the force would break the legs of the table.
"Open it, my boy. Is yours," The old maester spoke, almost with a longing tone.
Jon glanced briefly at him before looking at the box. Belongs to me! What could he mean by that? He thought briefly before opening it; he found something covered with an old dusty towel on it stitched the symbol of House Targaryen.
Just from the shape, Jon could tell it was a sword; his hand removed the towel, and dust flew in the air, coughing a bit, but despite that, he could see the beauty of the sword.
Grabbing it in his hand, he recognized the design right away; he had seen it in the books so many times that he had lost count when he had read Arya stories about Visenya Targaryen and when he himself had read about all the known Valyrian swords in the World.
Holding it in his hands as if it was a delicate piece of jewelry, he turned to look at the maester with a confused look. Why? Why is he giving me this? This belongs in the Capital, not here?!! He thought, but before he could utter a word, it seemed the maester knew what he was thinking.
"Before leaving the wall, Bloodraven told me to keep this sword until someone comes and says the words that you said, my boy," he explained with a sad smile on his face, sitting down on his chair.
Jon glanced briefly at the sword again; just holding it in his hands made him feel powerful in a way, but this sword.
"Why me, I'm nothing but a bastard. I shouldn't have this Sword?" Jon asked, turning to look at the old maester.
"I'm just a bastard; why should I have this sword?" Jon asked again; the bastard noticed the grimace on his old face when he said the word 'Bastard.'
"I don't know, my boy; Bloodraven knew things that no one else knew, if he wanted you to have it, then there must be a reason for it, and if you want to know the reason, you need to ask himself, and..." his mouth closed, opened and closed again as if wanting to say more but he didn't in the end.
Jon pondered on what he said; he knew Bloodraven could see many things; he himself had been there when he saw glimpses of the past, but could Bloodraven somehow see the future? Did he know that I would be born? If so, how? That shouldn't be possible? He thought, not sure of what to think.
"Listen, young man. I don't know what goes through the head of Brynden, use this sword to protect yourself, and once you talk with Brynden, you can return the sword to the capital. One thing I should tell you, a lesson of life; I have learned from living in the capital is that you should never allow yourself to be the Pawn, always make your own decision, while it is good to listen to advice every now and then since no one is perfect, but you should be the one to make the decision, and do not regret them, you should learn from the past but do not regret it, don't dwell on what ifs, if you do you will allow your destiny to be shaped by someone else, which will eventually lead to your own downfall," Maester Aemon Targaryen spoke, unlike before, his voice was strong, almost the voice of a King.
Jon thought about it; he understood what he meant. He knew the feeling of letting others decide your fate; he knew his father would most likely make him a guard or send him to night's watch to say his vows. If he listened to the others, he would never become a good swordsman, never learn; if he listened to the people of Winterfell, he would have killed himself a long time again.
With a determined look on his face, his hands becoming fists, at that moment, Jon decided that he would never allow anyone to choose his fate for him.
"Thank You, my lord," Jon spoke; the old maester chuckled.
"I'm no lord; just call me Un- Aemon," he spoke; Jon smiled before bowing his head slightly, showing his respect to the wise old man.
The following day, Jon wasted no time leaving the Night's Watch; he didn't know if any rider would come here sent by his father, but he didn't want to take chances. Saying goodbye to Maester Aemon and the old bear commander, the bastard boy whistle, calling Kessa and Ghost to him.
Scratching both of them behind their ears, making both of them purr in a way, enjoying the attention from their owner.
"It seems we are going to your homeland," Jon spoke, since both Ghost and Kessa came from beyond the wall.
With the help of Kessa, it didn't take long for Jon to find the hidden passage that led beyond the wall.
The passage was located at the Nightfort. The Nightfort was the first of the abandoned castles of the Night's Watch along the Wall, the only one whose steps up the side of the Wall were carved into the ice, something Jon found quite fascinating. It sits between Icemark to the west and Deep Lake to the east. Jon remembered this castle from some of the Old Nan's scariest stories.
Finding the hidden passage, Jon told Kessa to simply fly over the wall and wait for him. The bastard was told by Bloodraven last night what to say to pass through the gate; the bastard wondered why he would need to say anything but didn't question him; the Bloodraven then explained that he would tell him where to go through warg animals once he passes the Wall, Jon didn't know why but he felt something shady from his words.
Walking through the passage, he stepped on what felt like vines and trunks; Jon felt Ghost getting scarier the deeper they got inside the tunnel; he wondered what was happening with him when he reached a blockade, a door in front of him.
The door seemed normal at first glance before two big eyes opened, looking back at Jon, white and blind; the bastard boy felt speechless at what he was seeing; for a brief moment, he thought that perhaps he was in a dream when the door spoke.
"Who are you?" His voice was old and hoarse.
Jon kept his composure before answering; Ghost hid behind his legs, his tail between his legs, letting out whimpers.
"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch for this night and all the nights to come." Jon finished, feeling as if a weight was suddenly on his shoulder.
"Then Pass," the door spoke, opening but making no sounds as the big door opened.
Jon sighed in relief, his shoulders slumped down before walking forward, Ghost following closely, looking at the ground.
As he walked through the door, the door slowly started closing again; Jon wasted no time mounting Ghost, who returned back to his normal self, running forward; it didn't take long for Jon to notice the drastic temperature change.
Thankfully it wasn't snowing much; he could still see very far despite the snow falling around them; as he entered the endless forest, Jon heard Kessa's whistle high in the sky. Informing him that no dangerous animals or humans were nearby.
Jon kept riding forward until he reached a clearing in the forest; just as he was wondering when Bloodraven would send his crow, he heard a loud cry that didn't belong to Kessa; suddenly, a crow landed on his shoulder before letting out another loud cry, Jon looked at the crow as he took off from his shoulder, flying forward.
"Come on, boy," Jon said; Ghost started running, chasing the crow, not letting it escape their sight.
Running and running through the forest, the snow was only a few feet deep. The temperature was nothing for a Direwolf, yet despite knowing it was cold, Jon didn't feel cold; he expected his nose and every part of the skin that was exposed to start freezing, feeling pain, and for the skin to get red, yet Jon felt none of that, he didn't know the reason but was glad nonetheless.
After hours of riding, the Wall was no longer visible on the horizon, the sun was going down, and the light of day was slowly drifting away.
Jon saw the crow suddenly change his direction; instead of leading him towards Bloodraven, the crow flew high in the air until it was no longer visible, leaving Jon alone without directions. What is he playing at? He thought with a frown; this place was in the middle of nowhere.
He could see nothing around, only endless trees, whatever direction he looked.
The trees were as tall as the sky; Jon heard the wind whispering in his ears, a gust of wind traveling through the forest; he felt as if someone was watching him or if the trees themselves were watching him.
Jon soon started a fire with tree branches and cooked a rabbit that he captured with the help of Ghost; the bastard boy closed his eyes, feeling several big animals around him; one thing he noticed was the small eagle watching him from above; he frowned in annoyance, seeing through Kessa's eyes the little eagle flying away.
Using his Warging, he found several big wild animals around. Returning back to his body, he starts eating the tasty rabbit, throwing a bone at Ghost, who smiled before starting biting on the bone; eating the well-cooked meat, he threw two more bones at the happy Direwolf.
At that moment, everything seemed to have gone silent; even the wind stopped moving, no sound around him. Jon put his hand on the hilt of his sword, standing up, his eyes looking forward at the many trees around him.
"Come Out. I know you are there," he shouted; for a few seconds, nothing happened before several people came out from behind the trees, two of them aiming their bows at him and Ghost, who was growling at them.
They stopped approaching when they saw the direwolf bigger than any of them.
Jon eyed each one of them, one of them had a strange eye with broken teeth, one had a long red beard with a strange smile on his face, tall and muscular with knives in his hands.
But one that caught his attention right away was the girl in the middle.
She was a beautiful young woman with blonde hair, the color of dark honey, and reaching to her waist, in a golden braid across one shoulder. The woman had high sharp cheekbones and eyes which appeared pale grey. She was slender with a full bosom.
She was wearing all white: white woolen breeches tucked into high boots of bleached white leather, white bearskin cloak pinned at the shoulder with a carved weirwood face, white tunic with bone fastenings. On her hand was a long bone knife.
"Who are you?" The beautiful woman asked, looking at Jon, who had his right hand on Ghost, calming him down a bit.
"My name is Jon Snow; what do you want?" He asked; he could feel they were just a few meters away, just waiting for his order.
One of them holding the bow sneered at what he heard, his breath disgusting, as he took a step forward, causing Ghost to growl, his teeth visible to everyone, but the man simply aimed his bow at Ghost.
"An Overgrown dog is not faster than a bow; what is a Crow-like you doing alone here? Did they abandon you, little crow? You're surrounded," he spoke mockingly as if talking to a child.
The woman with blond hair rolled her eyes at his childish behavior, and so did the other archer, just as he was about to tell his fellow archer to shut up.
"You seem to be mistaken; you are the ones who are surrounded," the moment those words left his lips, several wolves approached them from every direction, foxes and even bears that were bigger than Ghost. The wildings looked around in alarm, their heads turning in every direction to see that they were in a hopeless situation; the animals slowly approached, forcing them to back away towards each other, creating a circle, standing close; the archer fired an arrow at Ghost, who dodged before jumping on top of him, his teeth just mere inches away from his face.
"He's a Warg," one of them exclaimed in astonishment; at that moment, Jon stood up; all his animals were keeping the wildings in a circle but not attacking yet.
"Orell, take over his animals," one of them cried to the wilding that Jon suspected was a skin-changer.
The skin-changer in question turned to look at Ghost; for a second, nothing happened before Jon felt something strange on his head as if something was trying to sever his bond with Ghost; Warging back, the feeling disappeared, causing Orell to stumble back before falling on his ass, his head suddenly in pain, screaming in pain.
"I wouldn't try that, Ghost has been with me for years," Jon warned before pointing a finger up; everyone turned to look, only to see a Blue Eagle landing near Jon.
A single glance was enough to tell them that she was a Blue Eagle of the North; the size was bigger than five people put together, her violet eyes glaring at the uninvited guests.
"Put down your weapons down; if you don't, I will make my companions eat each one of you," Jon ordered with a firm tone showing that he wasn't bluffing, his eyes almost black from the lack of light from the sun.
"If you think we will surrender," One of them started, only to hear the sound of metal hitting the snowy ground.
"What do you think you're doing, Tormund?" One of them shouted towards the red-haired beard man who kept his gaze on Jon.
"We better do what he wants unless you want to be their dinner," The man who Jon knew was Tormund said, pointing at the many wild animals around them.
The beautiful woman dropped her weapons, followed closely by everyone else. As soon as the weapons were taken away, the animals surrounding them backed away, allowing them to breathe more freely.
Jon simply sat down back near the fire, offering some rabbit meat to his guests. The woman accepted some, and so did Tormund, who looked more than happy to eat some.
Soon the silence fell over them like a cold blanket; now that she could get a good look at his face, the blonde woman noticed he was younger than any other member of the Night's Watch; was he even one? He's too young, and his clothes are not Night's Watch clothes, she thought, figuring Jon Snow had either found new clothes to wear or wasn't a member of the Night's Watch.
"You're too young to be a crow? What are you doing here?" The woman asked; Jon glanced at her; despite still being young, he knew the woman was gorgeous; swallowing the meat in his mouth, he threw the bone at his new Wolf companion before addressing her.
"If by crow you mean the Night's Watch, that's because I'm not one of them, and I'm here to meet someone," Jon explained, taking a sip of water from his skin bottle.
What he said caught them by surprise, especially the woman who wondered where he came from?!
"Who do you want to meet?" Tormund asked with a raspy tone.
"Someone named Bloodraven. Do you know where he lives?" Jon asked; he knew the chances of any of them knowing him were slim, but it didn't hurt to ask.
"We never heard of this Bloodraven, but if you're not from the Night's Watch, how did you pass the wall? Your last name is Snow; that means you come from the South?" The woman asked with curiosity, her beautiful grey eyes looking at him; perhaps there's a way to pass the wall through another way, she thought.
"With Kessa, I was on top of her, and we flew over the wall," Jon explained, earning a surprised look from everyone; Tormund narrowed his eyes at Jon Snow; he could tell there was something the boy wasn't telling them but decided to put it at the back of his head.
The woman wasn't sure whether to believe him or not, she had seen the Blue Eagle only for a short time, but it was enough to know that an eagle of that size could easily carry another person.
"What are your names?" Jon asked, looking at them.
"My name is Tormund, the archers are Bonn and Nakyth, this one with crazy eyes is Orell, and she's Val," Tormund introduced himself and his company with a big smile.
A gust of wind blew through the trees, Jon had kept an eye on if the crow would come back, but it seemed that he wouldn't come back, at least not any time soon.
He purposely stopped leading me right at the place where the Wildlings found me; why did he want me to meet them? He thought with a frown; he didn't like that Bloodraven was being cryptic and not simply telling him what he needed to know.
Looking at the Wildlings, he wondered whenever he should try to spend time with them or simply wait in the middle of the night for the crow to return, despite knowing the chances were slim.
"Where do you come from?" Val asked, leaning a bit closer with a friendly tone; it wouldn't hurt to know more about a boy who could warg more animals than any of their Wargs.
"I don't really come from anywhere, my lady; I moved a lot but spent most of my time around Last Hearth," Jon said with a neutral tone.
A groan escaped her mouth when she heard how he addressed her. "None of that 'my lady' crap, just call me by my name," she said; Jon nodded, liking that she didn't like the stupid titles; from how she held her weapons, he knew she could fight.
"We need to return back. Do you want to come with us?" Val asked, looking at Jon, who kept his look neutral; her companions looked at her with surprised looks; she couldn't just invite an unknown individual to their camp.
"Why? Why should I risk it?" Jon asked, his eyes looking at hers; only now did Val notice the purple shade on his eyes.
"You can stay here if you want, but you should know that the White Walkers attack at night; it will be easy for them to kill you, no matter how good you are with Warging or with your Sword," she explained, pointing a finger at the sword strapped on his waist.
Jon knew she had a point, but he couldn't simply trust them; the moment he stepped on their camp, he was vulnerable; he could control nine animals at best, but that wasn't enough to protect himself from an entire camp if they decided to attack him.
Just as Jon was about to decline her offer and tell them to return back, the animals around him started growling and crying out, making all of them turn towards the direction where the animals were looking; Jon felt the fear both Kessa and Ghost were feeling.
"Crows," one shouted, thinking that the Night's Watch was here; Tormund was about to tell him to shut up when the sound of ice cracking reached their ears; the chill feeling that spread through their bodies almost made them freeze in place, soon a strong cold wind flew in their direction making all of them feel cold, except Jon who still couldn't feel the cold around him, it felt more like a gentle wind caressing his skin.
Jon saw as the ground started freezing, the sound of Ice Cracking got closer, followed by heavy footsteps that made his animals back away in fear.
"Eat this," Bonn shouted before firing his arrow in the direction; soon, the footsteps started getting closer much faster.
"Move," Jon shouted just as a giant leg appeared from the thick fog piercing Bonn and Orell on his chest; the archer and skinchanger froze in their place, his bow slipping from his fingers, falling on the frozen ground.
Everyone's eyes widened in fear, seeing what looked like a giant Spider more enormous than Kessa, her teeth bigger than a human head, multiple blue eyes looking at the humans in front of her; on top of it was a white walker with a giant spear on his hand.
"We need Fire," Tormund shouted, grabbing a burning log from the fire that Jon had used to cook the rabbit, waving his arm around wildly, keeping the giant spider at bay; she backed away from the bright flame, the body of the archer and skinchanger still on her giant leg, now unmoving with a frozen face.
Jon unsheathed his sword, looking at the White Walker, who made another ice-cracking sound, making the spider move forward, ignoring the fire; just as the spider was about to kill him, the small eagle of Orell attacked her eyes with her beak, Tormund jumped away, almost getting stomped by her giant legs.
The other archer grabbed one of his arrows before burning the tip with the burning log, aiming at the spider with a smile. "Die Beast," he released the arrow, only for it to bounce off. His smile disappeared as the ice spider turned around before piercing his heart like a knife through butter.
"Tormund, we should retreat," Val shouted, knowing they had no chance of killing it; they had no black daggers to kill them.
Jon charged forward as the spider was busy with the last archer, his Valyrian sword piercing her body; the Spider let out a loud shriek making both Val and Tormund cover their ears; as the spider shattered into thousands of pieces, Jon smiled in triumph, but the White Walker was still alive, he charged forward to kill Jon when his animals attacked the White Walker.
One of the wolves jumped to bite his arm, only for him to pierce the wolf on the chest with his ice spear, making her cry out in pain. Another attacked only to be killed easily.
Jon charged forward to kill him, his sword aiming at his ribs, only for the white Walker to block him with his ice spear, pushing his arm away; he prepared to stab Jon when Tormund used his body to push him away.
The white Walker stood up on his legs almost instantly, he rushed towards Jon and Tormund when Val attacked with a burning arrowhead on her hand, he dodged her first swing, before preparing to stab her, Jon ordered a bear, who attacked the white walker from behind, making him fall under him, the bear tried to bite his head, but her teeth did nothing as he used his ice spear to pierce right through her, the bear moaned in pain before falling to the ground.
"Just Stay Dead," Jon shouted in anger and pain before bringing his sword down to the White Walker's head.
He shattered into thousands of pieces just like the spider; seeing the enemy fall, Jon allowed himself to rest, falling on his knees; he released a sigh of relief, his hands on the frozen ground, before remembering the four animals he lost, Ghost walked up to him soon Kessa landed near him.
They had tried to intervene in the fight, but Jon had forced them to stay away; he couldn't imagine losing them, he knew he had lost four animals that he forced to fight, but the selfish side of Jon thought that it was better them rather than Kessa or Ghost dying.
Breathing deeply to catch his breath, his heart still beating in his throat like a hammer, he briefly heard the sound of footsteps coming towards him; surprisingly, neither Ghost nor Kessa tried to keep whoever was coming away before a hand touched his shoulder.
"Jon, thank you for helping us; if it weren't for you, we would have died and become like..." Val stopped mid-sentence; a shudder went through her body at the thought of becoming like them.
She always wanted to think of herself as fearless, but one thing she feared more than anything was the dead and becoming one of them.
"Is nothing," Jon dismissed her with a shake of his head. Putting his hand on the fur of the bear that had died, he closed his eyes, saying a prayer for all of them.
"Thank you for helping me," Jon said silently before standing up, looking back at the two remaining wildlings; Tormund and Val were busy piling up the bodies of their former friends and the three wolves.
Turning to look at Jon, "We need to burn them; this way, they will not become white walkers," Tormund explained; Jon nodded in understanding.
Soon they started a fire with the help of Jon, burning the corpses of the dead; they stood watching as the fire burned the corpses. A comfortable silence had fallen over them, the light illuminating the darkness around them.
"Tomorrow morning, me and Tormund will return back to our camp. Are you coming?" Val asked, looking at Jon, who turned to look at them.
The bastard knew he could say no, but he now understood that he would have died without their help; being alone beyond the wall was suicidal; with a nod of his head, his eyes made contact with her pale grey, almost blue eyes.
"Yes, I will come,"
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