Westeros: Shadow Beyond the Wall

The blood of kings holds a great power within. The Others know this. They did not know just what power Jon Snow's held when it was spilt by his own brothers, accomplishing through blind idiocy what was attempted long ago. Winter is coming, carrying death with it.

I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. Nor do I own the Middle-Earth video game series or Lord of the Rings.

If you wish to understand why I had to type this: blame several days of binge playing Shadow of War in my downtime. I will be utilizing a mixture of material from both the show (for familiarity) and the books (for faithfulness to the source material). Although I haven't read the latter I've read countless pages devoted to detailing events within them, and I will draw certain themes, aspects and ideas from them where I feel it would benefit this story.

Xxx

Prologue: For the Watch

"Olly-"

A cold breath was expelled from Lord-Commander Jon Snow's chest as the knife slid between his ribs, striking true where the others had just barely missed their mark. Were he not the one to have received the blade's kiss he would have found it almost, perhaps morbidly, amusing that it would be the young boy standing before him, tears welling in his eyes, to break his heart both figuratively and literally.

"For the watch." Olly declared, tugging his arm back and taking his place among the other cloaked figures surrounding Jon, staring down at him in a silent mixture of remorse and resolve.

Jon felt his lips move, but there was little if any breath left in him to form words. He could only stare, stare into Olly's furious eyes. When Jon saw the boy's expression falter he suspected that he had succeeded in at least mouthing his message.

Why?

He knew why. He had just made the mistake in believing others would follow him, however begrudgingly. Was that not what brothers did for one another?

These aren't my brothers…Robb…oh Robb…I shouldn't have left…

What would happen next? The White Walkers marched against them. The Dead marched against them and these traitors would focus on fighting the Free Folk! He had to breathe, he had to live, to rise…to fight…

Ygritte…you were right…

He'd taken Olly in when he lost everything. Trained him, loved him like one of his own brothers- the real ones, in Winterfell, not these…shadows…where were the torches? He felt the snow compressed beneath his back, saw the distant glimmer of stars overhead…then nothing.

So dark…so cold…

No…light…

"You are barred from death."

Jon opened his eyes and saw nothing. He was standing in some void, vast and incomprehensible in scope, filled with chaotic, incoherent masses that shifted in and out of perception. Trying to perceive anything was like trying to see through turbulent waters while submerged, and yet…something stood constant in the heart of the storm. Something bright, almost blinding.

He tried to draw breath, but couldn't feel the familiar rise of his chest, nor the hungered ache of his lungs. Gloved hands padded around his chest, tracing the fresh stab wounds which he had incurred. It was during this reflexive moment that Jon noted the absence of something else.

His heart did not beat.

"Where…" It felt strange, to say the least, being unable to draw breath and yet speak perfectly as if all was normal. "…am I?"

"Trapped between two states." The bright thing said. "Suspended in the thin void between the worlds of the living and dead. It is as I said: you are barred from death…Jon Snow."

Jon raised his hands up to examine them and curled his fingers into fists before relaxing them, almost like a child exercising their motor skills for the first time. What should have felt normal to him now seemed alien. His body no longer felt as it used to. It felt…lighter in some ways, heavier in others. He struggled to even understand or process everything that was happening.

"How?"

The bright thing moved closer, spreading the pool of radiance it cast to encompass where Jon stood, clearing away the chaotic not-winds of the unearthly void.

"That remains a mystery, even to me." It said. "Perhaps we might aid one another in that regard, and more."

"Aid?" Jon shook his head. "No, I'm…I was stabbed in the heart. I can't be alive. I can't help you." He was reciting those fours words more to himself than the entity before him. "I can't…"

"You aren't alive, nor are you dead." Its tone became heavier, reflecting thinning patience. "We are one now, Jon Snow. We are bound within this world. Together. The sooner that you accept this to be fact, the sooner you might look towards what comes next."

The not-winds dissolved around them, leaving the void peaceful and still. Jon could see a man standing before him, wreathed in green light that framed a bearded jawline, long faced features beneath mottled skin, piercing bright eyes, a jagged crown and matted furs adorned with scaled plates mixed with what looked like bone fragments and fangs added directly into the attire. At his belt hung a hammer with a handle made of large, twisting branches of wood and a head with a protruding spike in the side. The man before him was not much unlike one of the Free Folk in appearance…in fact his face contained in it features that Jon remembered all too well.

He'd seen them in his father. He saw them in every mirror and pool of water.

"Who are you?" Jon demanded. "Why am I here? If what you say is true, why am I not dead?!"

He could have seen father again. Robb…maybe Arya if fortune hadn't favoured her. And most of all: his mother. He might have finally known…

"I…" The man hesitated, casting his spectral eyes downwards. "I cannot recall. I know things, I remember places…faces…battles…I remember this wall when it was first being built." He swept one arm up, and behind him Jon could see the Wall jutting up high, illuminated only by the stranger's own luminescence. "I remember the magic that was embedded into the very ice it was built from…and I remember that only a rare few possessed the power that could force a soul to refrain from following its natural course and passing on. Our predicament may not entirely be one of chance, but there is no reversing it as we are now."

Jon heard the echo of a howl in the distance. He scanned the darkness and found that his vision was adjusting to the seemingly impenetrable veil that surrounded himself and the stranger. The howls came from the pen.

"Ghost!" Jon scrambled towards the wooden door where the howls fell silent, but found that his hands melted through the latch as he attempted to grasp it.

"Give it time, Jon Snow." The stranger said soothingly, approaching from behind. "You are freshly dispatched. Your soul needs but a short respite before it returns to the flesh."

Jon didn't understand, nor did he try to. He pressed one hand through the door experimentally before stepping through. Ghost recoiled away from the door and bared his teeth, yet not a sound came from the albino Direwolf, who quickly closed his mouth and relaxed as he recognized who stood before him.

"You can see me, boy?" Jon dropped down onto one knee and held out a hand which Ghost sniffed at before passing his muzzle through it.

"You both might be of different skins, yet your bond cannot be denied." The stranger remarked. "The blood of the Winter Kings flows in you. The Childrens' Gift flows with it."

Gift? The Children?

In all of the stories from Old Na, Jon could not recall anything even vaguely close to a 'gift' from the fabled Children of the Forest.

"You seem puzzled." The stranger stared at him inquisitively. "Know you not of your own birth right?"

This would have once caused Jon to fume and brood.

Wear it like armour…

"I have no birth right." He declared, his tone flat and expression statuesque. "I'm a bastard."

"I don't speak of petulant titles and lands, boy!" The stranger barked. "I speak of that which is passed down from parent to child. The gift of life, the bond between souls as it was taught by the Children! How could a scion of the Winter Kings not know?!"

You know nothing, Jon Snow.

Ygritte's words drifted to him from the dark in all directions. Snow padded up to his side and stared pointedly at the stranger, flashing a hint of his fangs.

"Well how could someone forget their own name and yet claim to know so much?" Jon demanded defensively. "If you know what this gift is then stop wasting time and tell me or leave it be!"

The stranger deflated, shutting his eyes for several silent moments. "The gift…is what you know as Warging. The Children, the Greenseers…they learnt it from their gods and so too taught us, though only a rare few could master it beyond the pale shadow I see in what few fragments of your recollection are open to me. Whether it was a reward or part of an exchange I cannot recall, only that they taught it and intended for it to remain bound to the bloodline of the Magnar of Stark."

Magnar? Jon racked his brain and recalled the Thenns. Old Tongue for Lord.

"Wargs were just a story for me." Jon admitted, feeling his mouth twitch upwards into a humourless smile. "So were White Walkers and Wights…and now I'm apparently dead but not dead and speaking to someone who saw the Wall before it was finished. So why not throw being a Warg on top of that?"

"The world rarely cares for how fast it changes around us. I was born in darkness, and after living in it my entire life light flooded back in so quickly, without care for how any felt." The stranger conceded. "We both have many questions, Jon Snow. We can argue and infuriate one another as we have done already, or we might work to find answers."

The spectral man extended one arm.

"Help me find them." He said. "And I shall help you in taking your revenge."

The stab mark over Jon's heart ached.

"Not revenge." Jon insisted. "Justice."

"Which includes punishing those that killed you." The stranger replied stonily. "Amusing how the two seem so indistinguishable. Have we an accord, either way?"

Jon felt himself becoming heavier, like he was wearing full plate armour and beginning to sink into thick mud. "Something…is happening!"

"The flesh beckons." The stranger sighed irritably. "My offer stands, Jon Snow. Think on it until we next speak."

Darkness closed in once again…

Jon opened his eyes and saw the canopy stars overhead.

You are barred from death…

Xxx

End of Chapter