Prologue

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Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones. Any similarities in dialogue or storyline originated with the show or book.

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CHAPTER 00 :
PROLOGUE

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Rowynn

The cold winter air was coated with a thin smoke, blurring the edges of the world and bringing along the smell of sweat and blood which clung to the nose like a strong perfume. The shouts and screams that echoed through the castle were accompanied by the sharp clash of swords and axes. Every surface was tainted orange, reflecting the fires that lit up the night, and the ground was splattered with crimson puddles. Just as one body would hit the floor, a wispy breath leaving their lips for the last time, another man would take his place, swinging his sword around in hopes of hitting his enemy. But the men dressed in furs were unlike those dressed in black. They were the savages of the night who learned how to survive the endless winters that forged on Beyond the Wall. The crows were just trying to outlast the invaders. They all silently hoped daylight would bring the end of this battle at Castle Black.

Amidst all the chaos one man seemed to stand out. The dark curls atop his head moved every which direction as he slid across the muddy floor, avoiding several swinging swords while landing his own fatal blows. A guttural shout acted as a battle cry for the Thenn wildling barreling through the crowd. This one seemed to be bigger than most, his head absent of hair but marked with raised scars. The dark haired man faced the wildling after running his Valyrian steel blade across another's throat. They charged at each other like two drunken men preparing to fight over the last bottle of wine and grunted as their weapons clashed. The crow wielded his sword like a trained warrior, equaling the skill of the savage who sought to end his life that very night. It wasn't until the Thenn wildling caught the Valyrian sword in the nook of his axe that the battle seemed to be in even contest. When the larger man swung his axe back, it sent the sword flying into a puddle a few feet away. The long blade was evidently made of Valyrian steel and was met with a unique hilt. The silver crossguard transferred into simple black grip, but the part that would catch any eye was the pommel. It had been carefully crafted into the shape of a wolf's head from pale stone.

As the Thenn and man in black continued to fight the odds started to tip in the direction of the wildling. Without his sword the man of the Night's Watch did not have an appropriate means of protection. He was quick enough to avoid the swinging axe and finally found his way to a long iron chain. He managed to knock the axe out of the Thenn's hands causing their duel to devolve into a brutal hand-to-hand combat. There was a crunching sound as the wildling smashed the crow's face into an anvil. The younger man was yanked back roughly as he gasped for a clear breath and thrown into the blacksmith's forge. He rolled through the fire and landed on the other side with a grunt. The Thenn picked up the man in black effortlessly and held him against a wooden pillar as his strong hands tightened around his neck, strangling his contender. The younger man spit the blood that had welled up in his mouth at the wildling. This distracted him long enough for the crow to grab the blacksmith's hammer lying next to him and bury it into the Thenn's head. His eyes rolled back into his head as the blood began to pour out of the hole down the sides of his face. A second passed and he fell to the floor dead.

Rowynn shot up from the bed, gasping for her breath. With her head still reeling from the memory-like dream she held out her hands in front of her. Her lips formed a tight line as she blinked through the darkness encasing her bedchambers. When she saw that her hands were shaking, she knew that her dream was all but what it seemed. She had been told enough about the bastard known as Jon Snow to conclude it was him who had won the fight against the Thenn. She did not know if this battle had yet to happen or had already passed, but she had been having these types of prophetic dreams long enough to know that it would soon become a part of history.

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