Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Valar Morghulis
A/N: I have revised last chapter. If anyone want to go back, there is some new content. As some readers take pairings very seriously, so I have to say only this - We are in a GOT crossover and anything can happen and nothing is as important as the Game (Nothing weird will happen, I promise you).
Day Sixty five
For two or three minutes he stood looking, while his companion watched him, and then he began to walk ahead softly. His eyes seemed to be taking in everything—a line of stony ridges rose sudden from the sea, their steep slopes covered with soldier pines and black spruce. But dead ahead the sea had broken through, and there above the open water the Titan towered, with his eyes blazing and his long green hair blowing in the wind. His legs bestrode the gap, one foot planted on each mountain, his shoulders looming tall above the jagged crests. His legs were carved of solid stone, the same black granite as the sea monts on which he stood, though around his hips he wore an armored skirt of greenish bronze. His breastplate was bronze as well, and his head in his crested halfhelm. His blowing hair was made of hempen ropes dyed green, and huge fires burned in the caves that were his eyes. One hand rested atop the ridge to his left, bronze fingers coiled about a knob of stone; the other thrust up into the air, clasping the hilt of a broken sword.
"I never thought I'd see the Titan," he said at last, in a whisper.
"Did you know about it?"
"Of course, Braavos isn't a secret city anymore."
Chapter 3
Lord Snow
POV
The-King-beyond-the-Wall
"I want you to scout for me. Nobody can know we are coming. You know what is at stake Harry. This people have trusted me and left their home to march the lands they don't understand."
"By myself?"
"No. You can select anyone, no more than five"
"I want Tormund and Harma."
"No. I lost sixskin because of you. I don't have many experienced fighters, if you want, you can take Rattleshirt from the Skirling Pass."
Hopefully wizard will win half the battle by himself. And if gods are good and just he will reach beyond wall.
"I will follow Milkwater and take Shadow tower and if Halfhand is still there we will lose element of surprise. So it's your responsibility to intercept any communication between Shadow tower and the Wall. It maybe Ranger or a bird you have to take care of it."
"That I can do but Lord Bones is little too undisciplined for this type of work. A single mistake and all of south will be on wall to welcome you."
"Do what you have to Harry. I don't trust anyone else for subtle work like this. We are true free people; I can't make everyone obey my commands blindly. They made me king and they can as easily make someone else my successor. "
"Take care of Queen Mance, and tell Vance that I will miss her."
"She will skin you alive if you leave without telling her."
"Goodbye Mance."
"But Vance . . ."
Vanished again. I should have called Vance before calling him. Now I will have to restrain Vance from riding after him. Sometimes it was not worth being king if you have to solve lover's quarrels.
POV
Bastard of Winterfell
"Get him up."
Rough hands dragged him to his feet. Jon did not resist.
"Do you have a name?"
Harry answered for him. "His name is Jon Snow. He is Eddard Stark's bastard, of Winterfell."
Ragwyle laughed. "Who would have thought it? Qhorin Halfhand slain by some lordling's byblow."
"Gut him." That was Rattleshirt, still on horse. The eagle flew to him and perched atop his bony helm, screeching.
"He yielded," Ygritte reminded them.
"Aye, and slew his brother," said a short homely man in a rust-eaten iron halfhelm. Rattleshirt rode closer, bones clattering. "The wolf did his work for him. It was foully done. The Halfhand's death was mine."
"We all saw how eager you were to take it," mocked Ragwyle.
"He is a warg," said the Lord of Bones, "and a crow. I like him not."
"Shut up Lord Bones," Wizard commanded, "I'm tired of your prattling."
Behind the eyeholes of his yellowed skull Rattleshirt's stare was malignant, but he yielded grudgingly.
"We will march directly to wall. Anyone who wishes to leave may do so as this will be a most dangerous mission. Mance asked me to climb wall for our people and make a way. As this mission demands discretion I want my orders followed. If anyone have problem with this they may return to Mance." Last part was clearly meant for Rattleshirt.
A leader in free people, thought Jon. They burned Qhorin Halfhand where he'd fallen, on a fire made of pine wood, brush, and broken branches. Some of the wood was still green, and it burned slow and smoky, sending a black plume up into the bright hard blue of the sky.
"Are you really a Wizard?" asked Jon across the flickering fire.
"Who told you I was a Wizard?"
"Ygritte told me you can conjure fire from nothing"
"And you trust everything a spearwife tells you."
"I never said I trusted her."
"You should trust her, I let you live cause of her"
"She repaid the debt of life."
"Do you really think that is the reason?" amused wizard asked.
"Yes, I spared her life when she yielded to me."
"Then you know nothing Lord Snow."
Many people told Jon those words but nobody explained themselves to him. He didn't expect aloof wizard to explain himself. Free people seem to like and fear him equally. Wizard also has a wolf. He can't be all bad. Jon decided. Wizards wolf was opposite of his Ghost though, small and black, almost like a dog. Ghost seem to fear it though, he would not go near it and whenever it would try to go near Ghost just seem to shrink in himself.
"Is your wolf a direwolf?"
"No. Black is an ordinary wolf. I found him in haunted forest."
"You are not from north, are you?"
"You ask too many questions Snow"
"Your skin is too much tan and you don't speak like free folk." Jon persisted "Who taught you magic? What else you can do?"
For Jon wizard was a big puzzle. He was sure that wizard was from south, far south. So what was he doing here instead of those free cities where mysteries priests and magicians with strange power lived? Who would choose north over south? Jon was particularly interested in knowing what else this wizard can do. He knew Mance Rayder was searching for something in Mountains, maybe he was searching for lost wizards and found one or maybe some magic item to win the war.
Every night when they made camp, Ygritte threw her sleeping skins down beside his own, no matter if he was near the fire or well away from it. Once he woke to find her nestled against him, her arm across his chest. He lay listening to her breathe for a long time, trying to ignore the tension in his groin. Rangers often shared skins for warmth, but warmth was not all Ygritte wanted, he suspected. After that he had taken to using Ghost to keep her away. Old Nan used to tell stories about knights and their ladies who would sleep in a single bed with a blade between them for honor's sake, but he thought this must be the first time where a direwolf took the place of the sword.
Even then, Ygritte persisted. The day before last, Jon had made the mistake of wishing he had hot water for a bath. "Cold is better," she had said at once, "if you've got someone to warm you up after. The river's only part ice yet, goes on."
Jon laughed. "You'd freeze me to death."
"Are all crows afraid of goose prickles? A little ice won't kill you. I'll jump in with you to prove it so."
"And ride the rest of the day with wet clothes frozen to our skins?" he objected.
"Jon Snow, you know nothing. You don't go in with clothes."
"I don't go in at all," he said firmly, just before he heard Harry calling for him (he hadn't, but never mind).
The wildlings think Ygritte a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the free folk, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire, which was supposed to be lucky. Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte's hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons.
At a lord's court the girl would never have been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round peasant face, a pug nose, and slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart. Jon had noticed all that the first time he'd seen her, when his dirk had been at her throat. Lately, though, he was noticing some other things. When she grinned, the crooked teeth didn't seem to matter. And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, and lively as any eyes he knew. Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well.
Ygritte disliked Harry though. According to her he was an evil Warlock. Jon didn't ask Wizard if he was really evil, he didn't think it will go as well as asking him about being Wizard. Harry seemed to tolerate him good enough, but he was a wildling leader and Jon didn't want to die before reaching the Wall. He still had a purpose to fulfill. I will carry the word back to the Wall. The wildlings had taken him for an oathbreaker, but in his heart he was still a man of the Night's Watch, doing the last duty that Qhorin Halfhand had laid on him. Before I killed him. He still remembered the oath. '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.'
A/N: Ratings may go up in future. Apparently its standard practice to beg for reviews. Despite being a prideful human being, I shall beg for your feedback. It's simple reallyNo feedback-No improvement. So please oh mighty readers, grace me with your time and show me the errors of my ways, for I am a fool and you are the wise.
Day Sixty five
For two or three minutes he stood looking, while his companion watched him, and then he began to walk ahead softly. His eyes seemed to be taking in everything—a line of stony ridges rose sudden from the sea, their steep slopes covered with soldier pines and black spruce. But dead ahead the sea had broken through, and there above the open water the Titan towered, with his eyes blazing and his long green hair blowing in the wind. His legs bestrode the gap, one foot planted on each mountain, his shoulders looming tall above the jagged crests. His legs were carved of solid stone, the same black granite as the sea monts on which he stood, though around his hips he wore an armored skirt of greenish bronze. His breastplate was bronze as well, and his head in his crested halfhelm. His blowing hair was made of hempen ropes dyed green, and huge fires burned in the caves that were his eyes. One hand rested atop the ridge to his left, bronze fingers coiled about a knob of stone; the other thrust up into the air, clasping the hilt of a broken sword.
"I never thought I'd see the Titan," he said at last, in a whisper.
"Did you know about it?"
"Of course, Braavos isn't a secret city anymore."
Chapter 3
Lord Snow
POV
The-King-beyond-the-Wall
"I want you to scout for me. Nobody can know we are coming. You know what is at stake Harry. This people have trusted me and left their home to march the lands they don't understand."
"By myself?"
"No. You can select anyone, no more than five"
"I want Tormund and Harma."
"No. I lost sixskin because of you. I don't have many experienced fighters, if you want, you can take Rattleshirt from the Skirling Pass."
Hopefully wizard will win half the battle by himself. And if gods are good and just he will reach beyond wall.
"I will follow Milkwater and take Shadow tower and if Halfhand is still there we will lose element of surprise. So it's your responsibility to intercept any communication between Shadow tower and the Wall. It maybe Ranger or a bird you have to take care of it."
"That I can do but Lord Bones is little too undisciplined for this type of work. A single mistake and all of south will be on wall to welcome you."
"Do what you have to Harry. I don't trust anyone else for subtle work like this. We are true free people; I can't make everyone obey my commands blindly. They made me king and they can as easily make someone else my successor. "
"Take care of Queen Mance, and tell Vance that I will miss her."
"She will skin you alive if you leave without telling her."
"Goodbye Mance."
"But Vance . . ."
Vanished again. I should have called Vance before calling him. Now I will have to restrain Vance from riding after him. Sometimes it was not worth being king if you have to solve lover's quarrels.
POV
Bastard of Winterfell
"Get him up."
Rough hands dragged him to his feet. Jon did not resist.
"Do you have a name?"
Harry answered for him. "His name is Jon Snow. He is Eddard Stark's bastard, of Winterfell."
Ragwyle laughed. "Who would have thought it? Qhorin Halfhand slain by some lordling's byblow."
"Gut him." That was Rattleshirt, still on horse. The eagle flew to him and perched atop his bony helm, screeching.
"He yielded," Ygritte reminded them.
"Aye, and slew his brother," said a short homely man in a rust-eaten iron halfhelm. Rattleshirt rode closer, bones clattering. "The wolf did his work for him. It was foully done. The Halfhand's death was mine."
"We all saw how eager you were to take it," mocked Ragwyle.
"He is a warg," said the Lord of Bones, "and a crow. I like him not."
"Shut up Lord Bones," Wizard commanded, "I'm tired of your prattling."
Behind the eyeholes of his yellowed skull Rattleshirt's stare was malignant, but he yielded grudgingly.
"We will march directly to wall. Anyone who wishes to leave may do so as this will be a most dangerous mission. Mance asked me to climb wall for our people and make a way. As this mission demands discretion I want my orders followed. If anyone have problem with this they may return to Mance." Last part was clearly meant for Rattleshirt.
A leader in free people, thought Jon. They burned Qhorin Halfhand where he'd fallen, on a fire made of pine wood, brush, and broken branches. Some of the wood was still green, and it burned slow and smoky, sending a black plume up into the bright hard blue of the sky.
"Are you really a Wizard?" asked Jon across the flickering fire.
"Who told you I was a Wizard?"
"Ygritte told me you can conjure fire from nothing"
"And you trust everything a spearwife tells you."
"I never said I trusted her."
"You should trust her, I let you live cause of her"
"She repaid the debt of life."
"Do you really think that is the reason?" amused wizard asked.
"Yes, I spared her life when she yielded to me."
"Then you know nothing Lord Snow."
Many people told Jon those words but nobody explained themselves to him. He didn't expect aloof wizard to explain himself. Free people seem to like and fear him equally. Wizard also has a wolf. He can't be all bad. Jon decided. Wizards wolf was opposite of his Ghost though, small and black, almost like a dog. Ghost seem to fear it though, he would not go near it and whenever it would try to go near Ghost just seem to shrink in himself.
"Is your wolf a direwolf?"
"No. Black is an ordinary wolf. I found him in haunted forest."
"You are not from north, are you?"
"You ask too many questions Snow"
"Your skin is too much tan and you don't speak like free folk." Jon persisted "Who taught you magic? What else you can do?"
For Jon wizard was a big puzzle. He was sure that wizard was from south, far south. So what was he doing here instead of those free cities where mysteries priests and magicians with strange power lived? Who would choose north over south? Jon was particularly interested in knowing what else this wizard can do. He knew Mance Rayder was searching for something in Mountains, maybe he was searching for lost wizards and found one or maybe some magic item to win the war.
Every night when they made camp, Ygritte threw her sleeping skins down beside his own, no matter if he was near the fire or well away from it. Once he woke to find her nestled against him, her arm across his chest. He lay listening to her breathe for a long time, trying to ignore the tension in his groin. Rangers often shared skins for warmth, but warmth was not all Ygritte wanted, he suspected. After that he had taken to using Ghost to keep her away. Old Nan used to tell stories about knights and their ladies who would sleep in a single bed with a blade between them for honor's sake, but he thought this must be the first time where a direwolf took the place of the sword.
Even then, Ygritte persisted. The day before last, Jon had made the mistake of wishing he had hot water for a bath. "Cold is better," she had said at once, "if you've got someone to warm you up after. The river's only part ice yet, goes on."
Jon laughed. "You'd freeze me to death."
"Are all crows afraid of goose prickles? A little ice won't kill you. I'll jump in with you to prove it so."
"And ride the rest of the day with wet clothes frozen to our skins?" he objected.
"Jon Snow, you know nothing. You don't go in with clothes."
"I don't go in at all," he said firmly, just before he heard Harry calling for him (he hadn't, but never mind).
The wildlings think Ygritte a great beauty because of her hair; red hair was rare among the free folk, and those who had it were said to be kissed by fire, which was supposed to be lucky. Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte's hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons.
At a lord's court the girl would never have been considered anything but common, he knew. She had a round peasant face, a pug nose, and slightly crooked teeth, and her eyes were too far apart. Jon had noticed all that the first time he'd seen her, when his dirk had been at her throat. Lately, though, he was noticing some other things. When she grinned, the crooked teeth didn't seem to matter. And maybe her eyes were too far apart, but they were a pretty blue-grey color, and lively as any eyes he knew. Sometimes she sang in a low husky voice that stirred him. And sometimes by the cookfire when she sat hugging her knees with the flames waking echoes in her red hair, and looked at him, just smiling . . . well, that stirred some things as well.
Ygritte disliked Harry though. According to her he was an evil Warlock. Jon didn't ask Wizard if he was really evil, he didn't think it will go as well as asking him about being Wizard. Harry seemed to tolerate him good enough, but he was a wildling leader and Jon didn't want to die before reaching the Wall. He still had a purpose to fulfill. I will carry the word back to the Wall. The wildlings had taken him for an oathbreaker, but in his heart he was still a man of the Night's Watch, doing the last duty that Qhorin Halfhand had laid on him. Before I killed him. He still remembered the oath. '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.'
A/N: Ratings may go up in future. Apparently its standard practice to beg for reviews. Despite being a prideful human being, I shall beg for your feedback. It's simple reallyNo feedback-No improvement. So please oh mighty readers, grace me with your time and show me the errors of my ways, for I am a fool and you are the wise.
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