Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn - Chapter 39 - Journey to the Wall 01.

[Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]

Third Person POV.
Somewhere on North.

...

...

The days passed as the snows beyond the wall, with the desolate scenery of snow, rocks, and scattered trees across the horizon, brought a melancholic feeling.

A young man, none other than the Dragonborn, sat in the middle of a forest with a campfire in front of him, a bored look on his face, as his only pastime was cooking food, like he was doing by using telekinesis on a piece of steak he had cut from one of his carcasses over the flames.

“If I still had a book... I could be reading something to pass the time,” Jon remarked. He hadn’t been awake for long after settling in that spot, not yet resuming his journey due to the hunger he felt, and had set a few things to cook.

A cold breeze blew a short distance from him as he glanced to the side, where the giant dragon lay behind him, having slept with him at the campsite.

“What is it...? You mean to say your presence relieves my boredom? You only know how to sleep... you smelly dragon,” Jon teased.

Hrrr She didn’t seem too pleased with the comment, looking at him with dissatisfaction.

But Jon didn’t care as he pulled the roasted steak back to him, eating his first meal. After a moment of feeling satisfied, he began to leave the camp, the dragon automatically standing as well, stirring up a small cloud of dust and causing her wings to brush against the trees, for she was too large for that place.

“You’re going to eat, then... just head to the coast and don’t draw any attention. If any man in black sees you, we’ll be in some trouble...” Jon remarked, watching as she merely looked at him after his words, then took off and disappeared between the trees from his point of view.

“I hope she at least does that...” Jon muttered, not wanting the South to be alerted of a dragon flying near the wall. Though he was heading there, he wanted her to remain discreet, so much so that he would avoid all cities to prevent the dragon from following him to Winterfell.

Jon then continued on his path, getting closer to the wall, although he couldn’t see it on the horizon yet. He had thought about catching a ride with the dragon, but she didn’t seem comfortable with him riding on her back, and Jon hadn’t insisted on it either.

He continued alone, barely encountering anyone after passing through the patrols and sentinels of Mance’s camp, where there were more people from all sides, as he had to be cautious of the Night’s Watch patrols searching for them.

He even spotted some free folk in the area, seeing them from afar, but didn’t approach as he passed by the remnants of camps, both from the free folk and the Night’s Watch.

The only sound for a while was the crunch of his footsteps through the layer of snow beneath him, until something caught his attention. As he noticed movement in the forest, following it with his eyes detecting life, he found himself surrounded by wolves—but not ordinary wolves.

“Direwolves... a pack...” Jon said with some admiration as he saw them, though they seemed to view him as prey.

He didn’t care much as he continued through the forest that hadn’t ended yet, even after more than five hours since he had left his previous camp. The sound of their paws running through the snow around him grew louder and louder.

“They’re not going to show up?” Jon raised an eyebrow, waiting to see the creatures in front of him. And as if granting his wish, several wolves quickly began running around the trees where he was, appearing from all sides.

“Clever...” Jon murmured, seeing more than 14 direwolves surrounding him at this moment, in a variety of colors—red, black, gray—with the latter being the most dominant.

“You’re here... so you want me to be your meal?” Jon said, smiling as he looked directly at the gray wolf, who seemed to be the leader, glaring at Jon with fierce eyes. Jon found this quite amusing and a welcome distraction from his current boredom.

The wolf didn’t understand his words, but the smile and the confident look made the wolf doubt whether this was truly prey. They had gone days without eating, so finding a lone target was a welcome sight, even if it was the kind they usually avoided—humans.

Jon didn’t wait for them to attack, and he quickly opened his mouth toward the leader, as a sound like thunder echoed while Jon used a Thu’um.

“JOOR ZAH FRUL!” The shout, called Dragonrend, is meant to bind dragons and force them to the ground, but Jon had learned a few variations of this Thu’um, one of which was to imprison other beings, weaker than dragons.

The giant wolf found itself bound by spectral chains, paralyzed, and fell to the ground, completely immobilized as the energy passed through it, cast by that human.

This quickly alerted all the wolves surrounding Jon, and they charged at him in fury. Jon didn’t care and looked down before releasing another Thu’um.

“FUS RO DAH!” The ground exploded the next moment from where he stood, sending everything flying as the other giant wolves could only let out mournful cries.

Jon stood in the middle of it all as the dust began to settle, raising the bound wolf with telekinesis.

“I’ve decided... I’m going to make you my familiar as well,” Jon said, as he aimed to dominate the entire wolf pack by subjugating their alpha. His interest in Warg powers was growing.

The wolf only looked at him with fear in its eyes, while the others, who had been thrown far, began to return, finding Jon with their leader in the pit created by the Dragonborn’s shout.

“They’re certainly loyal,” Jon remarked as he kept his eyes locked on the giant wolf’s, preparing to initiate the connection. But at that moment, something appeared in the sky, forcing Jon to shift his gaze from the wolf, raising an eyebrow at the now enraged dragon.

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR  

The dragon roared with such force that even the distant trees began to tremble, shedding the snow accumulated on their branches.

The wolves sensed this and quickly began to flee from the creature approaching them, their survival instincts warning them that they were about to die as soon as the dragon saw Jon being surrounded.

“You’d better leave,” Jon muttered, releasing the alpha wolf. There was no point in keeping it any longer, as the dragon clearly intended to kill them all.

Like a meteor, the dragon landed near the pit Jon had created, toppling trees with its massive body. Unlike the last time, when it had crashed down injured, the pack scattered in all directions, their leader joining them in their retreat.

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRR  

It roared once more at the fleeing wolves as only Jon remained, noticing the blue energy accumulating around the dragon.

“Hey, you can’t do that...” Jon murmured, knowing that all the wolves would die in the next moment.

As the dragon unleashed its icy flames, a force compelled it to turn its head to the side, missing the spot where the wolves were running. The freezing blast swept through the forest on that side, bathing it in white light, as everything turned into a layer of ice with jagged spikes, freezing trees, rocks, and the very ground, creating a crystalline sculpture.

The dragon stopped and quickly looked at Jon in anger, who stood with his hand raised after using telekinesis to move its enormous head, preventing it from killing the direwolves.

ROOOOAAAARRRRR  

It growled at Jon in fury.

Jon only sighed, unfazed. “I’m really glad you care about me... but I can’t let you kill them. I was handling the situation on my own,” he said in a calm tone, looking at the dragon with some respect.

"..." The dragon still emitted a sound of anger toward him before turning its face and starting to walk away, clearly not pleased.

“Sorry about that...” Jon said with a certain sincerity, before starting to walk, leaving the dragon behind and moving forward, though she kept her gaze on him even from a distance.

The commotion with the wolves had certainly been heard far away, and it caught the attention of some people. A group began walking toward that area about an hour later.

“Damn... should we really be doing this? We were already heading back to the Wall!” A man dressed in black complained, clearly unhappy with the situation.

“You heard that roar; it’s definitely some monster from the north!” another man said.

“Would you all shut up? We heard something strange from this direction, and now we’re here to investigate once and for all,” the man who appeared to be their leader spoke angrily to the others.

“This should’ve been handled by the First Ranger, but now he’s living in the warm halls of Winterfell, probably screwing some whore in Wintertown,” someone grumbled.

“Benjen Stark isn’t that kind of person. He went to report the patrol situation to the king,” the leader replied.

“It doesn’t matter now, should we have come here? That roar was from a monster, we’re going to die here. Will said he saw White Walkers, and what if they come back again?!” The man expressing his fear kept rambling, trembling, but with no choice other than to follow the group toward the source of the roars, which had sounded like thunder in the distance.

“Will deserted the Watch after his group was killed by wildlings... he just made up that story to run south as a deserter,” the leader said, dissatisfied.

“Relax, it was probably just thunder or something like that. If we have to face any monsters, remember we’ve got the famous Qhorin Halfhand. Any wildling or whatever we come across will run off with their tails between their legs, hahaha,” another man laughed, mocking the patrolman’s fear.

“Shut up...” Qhorin himself, the leader of the group, said, clearly displeased as they continued toward the source of the noise.

They had been at Craster’s Keep when they heard the sound, and Qhorin had decided to investigate personally with the group. After all, they were patrolling and looking for wildlings, especially since they had been acting much stranger in the past few moons, and they wanted to know if Craster had any information.

“Don’t be such a downer, Qhorin, we can—” the man started to speak again but was cut off.

“Quiet!” Qhorin said, turning his head to listen more closely ahead. “Someone’s coming toward us,” he said, immediately drawing his sword, and the others, surprised, did the same automatically, pulling their weapons in front of them. They soon heard footsteps between the trees, and a man emerged, walking toward them with a certain calmness, dressed as a wildling, though his eyes were quite unusual and striking.

“Look what we have here... the Night’s Watch again...” Jon said, smiling as he spoke, pleased to have encountered a group that could provide him with some of the information he needed before heading south.

“Who are you?!” Qhorin asked, looking at him with caution, while the man seemed comfortable despite being alone against six members of the Night’s Watch.

“...” Jon didn’t respond, simply smiling and maintaining an amused expression.