The One Who Was Promised || Game of Thrones Fanfiction

Chapter 4

JON

The wildlings were known to come south of the Wall on occasion. Those who braved the climb would spend hours inching towards the top of the icy barrier with nothing to support their weight other than thin picks and even thinner rope while those that feared death by a great fall would bypass the Wall altogether and descend into the Gorge to make their way around the Shadow Tower. Wildlings have been found as far south as Bear Island and the Umberlands but the King's hunting party was a hundred miles even further south than that.

While Ned Stark had expressed interest that Jon join the hunting party, Lady Catelyn was not in favour of his presence being known. When the caravan left Winterfell, Jon blended into the stewards at the rear where they tended to the luggage and food supply. He spent most of the trip north in silence, watching the backs of soldiers march ahead until they entered the densest section of the woods.

When the wildlings attacked, Jon was ready to defend. He was trained in Winterfell alongside his brothers, so he knew his way around a sword, but he had never fought for his life before. The stewards cowered together while Jon did his best to hold back the wildings; some managed to steal from the carts before disappearing into the green bushes. Jon's direwolf, Ghost, a pale white, red eyed creature, attacked the wildlings with deadly force. He flew like snow in a blizzard, tearing apart wildling enemies while protecting the people of Winterfell and King's Landing.

The screams of a woman could be heard from the front of the caravan, and Jon feared that those were the cries of the princess. He lost focus for a split second, and a wildling took advantage of this opportunity and knocked him from his horse. Jon hit the ground hard, a shooting pain made its way up his side and ended at his shoulder. A man stood over him with his axe raised when suddenly two arrows penetrated his chest and stuck out of the leather on his back. The wildling man stumbled backwards before falling to his knees; Theon Greyjoy aimed afar with his bow raised, another arrow notching in place as he shot again in another direction. Jon didn't waste the opportunity and before the wildling could take his final breath, Jon's sword opened his throat. More help from Winterfell soldiers arrived and the carts were better protected. Abandoning the stewards who were surrounded by northern guards, Jon met up with Theon.

"Where's the princess?" Jon asked, his eyes scanning the surrounding area as his sword deflected a wayward sword.

Arrows flew from Theon's bow and were quickly replaced as he shot into the crowd; even in practice, Theon never missed his target. "The wildlings took Isolde into the woods and the princess chased after her. I think the King sent some men to find them," Theon said.

The battle continued to rage, and the wildlings weren't going down without a fight, but anyone could tell that the northerners and southerners would find victory in the end. Knowing that there were trained soldiers out searching for the princess didn't put Jon's mind at ease, they didn't know the wildlings and they didn't know the North. "I'm going after them," Jon stated.

Before Theon could protest, or follow, Jon had taken off away from the battle, in pursuit of where he last heard the cries for help. While the King's guards may be skilled knights, Jon was certain they were no match for the tracking abilities of a direwolf. Ghost's snout took in all of the scents in the air above before pointing down and taking in the smells of the earth; once he caught the trail, he vanished into the brush with Jon in tow.

The wolf and his master hadn't run for long when the screaming came to an abrupt stop. Ghost paused briefly, looking towards Jon who was unmoving. His blood ran cold and his feet began to move again in the same direction they were originally headed. He was moving blindly, unsure of where to go next; perhaps he should have turned left at the large boulder instead of moving right, or should he have passed the group of young pine trees instead of continuing through them. Parting the leaves of low hanging branches, Jon pushed into a clearing; the scene in front of him was worse than he had expected. Blood stained the forest floor where the bodies of three wildlings and a gold cloak lay dead, the princess was nowhere in sight. "Princess Ragnelle?" He called, circling the clearing in each direction but she was nowhere to be seen. "Princess!" Ghost had stopped close to the dead bodies, distracted by the overwhelming smell of blood and open flesh; his teeth were exposed as he growled low.