The Bastard Wolf

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She felt the pull of the unformed bond but Morgana didn't have it in her to rise from the ground. The despair clawed at her chest crushing her very soul. She didn't want to go on. She didn't want to love again only to have it taken away. 

The bond pulled more harshly, begging her to come. 

She stood on shaking feet, resigning herself to her fate once more. She stared at the statue of herself. Worn with age and rot. Her stone features were dull and unrecognizable. She wondered if the statue was a reflection of her soul, so full of rot and decay. 

She let the magic wrap around her, taking her to where her bond resided. 

When her eyes opened once more, she found herself in a dark damp bed chamber. The only noise was the labored breathing coming from the furs on the bed. When she drew closer she saw a small onyx-haired child, pale face flushed with fever. Sweat coated his sickly face. The boy was dying, she knew it. 

He was no older than six but he was dying. 

"Are you the Stanger? I never knew the stranger would be so beautiful...Have you come to take me away?" His weak voice echoed through the room. 

"No, child... What is your name?" She pushed aside her confusion as she sat down next to the boy on the bed. She felt the bond, knew she was his and he was hers. But he had no silvery blonde hair, nor enchanting purple eyes. He looked like a stark. 

"Jon Snow...If you are not the stranger... who are you?" He grew out of breath as he spoke, growing weaker by the minute. 

"My name is Morgana... May I hold you, Jon? It will make you feel better." Morgana asked. Though he didn't agree, he didn't deny her either. She took the small boy into her arms, cuddling him close into her cold touch. 

He sunk into her embrace, holding onto her as tightly as he could manage. Her magic seeped into him, fighting off the illness that plagued him. 

He hummed in satisfaction as she combed her fingers through his dark curls. 

She began to sing an old High Valyrian lullaby, his hand pressed against her chest feeling the vibrations of her voice. He sat completely on her lap, basking in her loving embrace, feeling wanted and whole for the first time in his short life. 

"Drakari pykiros. Tīkummo jemiros. Yn lantyz bartossa. Saelot vāedis" Her voice held a bit of magic, curling around the boy and filling his soul with a beloved warmth.

"Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis. Se gēlȳn irūdaks. Ānogrose" Jon sunk miraculously further into her embrace as the foreign words calmed his racing heart.

"Perzyro udrȳssi. Ezīmptos laehossi. Hārossa letagon. Aōt vāedan. Hae mērot gierūli: Se hāros bartossi. Prūmȳsa sōvīli. Gevī dāerī" 

He didn't recognize the language, but the very blood in his veins seemed to come alive. Morgana looked into his mind, seeing the loneliness of the poor boy. A loneliness she knew all too well. 

She saw herself in the boy. 

"Why are you alone, Ñuha prūmia?" She asked even though she knew the answer already from his memories. 

"Lady Stark did not wish for me to get Robb sick. So she locked me away." Jon answered, the innocence in his eyes showed he didn't understand the cruelty the woman was inflicting. 

"I will stay with you until you feel better," Morgana whispered kindly. 

"Then I hope I never get better," Jon answered, unintentionally charming the young witch. 

For the next few days, Jon did not leave Morgana's embrace. She told him of her adventures and her curse. She warned him that soon she would be forced to leave, but she would one day return. She showed him her magic, reveling in his unrestrained awe. 

She taught him a few words in High Valyrian and he quickly picked up the Lullaby she sang every night even though he didn't know the meaning of the words. 

Jon giggled as the snake patronus flew about the room, lighting up the darkened space. "You make stars, Gana!" She smiled watching his little face light up. 

Her magic had healed him of his illness, now he was just a happy little boy, locked in a room. He had grown very much fond of Morgana, just as his ancestors before him. The moment the patrons disappeared he raced back into Morgana's awaiting arms giggling as she kissed his flushed cherub cheeks. 

She watched the joy fade as his eyes caught the graying markings on her skin. Tears filled his eyes as he looked at the markings, taunting him on her pale ivory skin, "I don't want you to go away, gana... I love you." 

"I love you too, Ñuha prūmia. But I am needed elsewhere and I shall return one day." 

"But I need you too... I don't want you to return, I want you to stay..." Tears fell down his cheeks as his pouty lip wobbled in dismay. 

"I don't want to be alone again!" He cried, sinking further into her embrace.

She smiled down at the boy, feeling her burden lighten in his presence. She slipped the Head of Slytherin ring off her finger, letting some of her magic flow into the silver metal. The snake's eye seemed to glow green on the signet ring, responding to its master's power. 

"Here, this ring has been passed down for thousands of years in my family. It is a part of me, I give it now to you. Protect it and I will always be with you." She whispered placing the ring in his awaiting hands. He stared in awe as he felt her magic in the ring. It was too big to fit on his tiny fingers but he held onto it like a lifeline. 

"I'll protect it for you, Gana!" Jon promised, placing a light kiss on her cheek as if sealing his oath to her. 

The markings on her skin grew darker by the moment.

It wasn't long before the bond faded, the warmth was gone, and the only thing left to remind the young prince of his guardian angel was a magic ring and a promise to one day return.

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