Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn.

Chapter 6 - Threats

[Chapter Size: 2662 Words.]

Jon Snow POV.
Somewhere on North.

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As soon as I slept beside Lucis this night, I plunged into a rather peculiar dream, unlike the usual ones where I would typically encounter war, monsters, vampires, werewolves, dragons, demons, and gods. The world seemed to have grown larger, and I was extraordinarily small. I realized I was inside a white-furred wolf cub, surrounded by four-legged siblings in some confined space, like a barn or pen.

It was already morning when I noticed the sun streaming through the window of the place. The wolf cub made soft noises, attempting to whimper, emitting sounds of an animal trying to get the attention of its siblings. However, the animal was mute, and it could only try its best. This lasted until the door opened suddenly, and a group of people, adults, and some children entered, taking away all the other cubs, leaving me alone. The figures that appeared were indistinct, obscured by an enigmatic mist. Yet, even in the confusion, a sense of loneliness and sadness seized me for that animal.

I felt the helpless wolf pup emitting inaudible whimpers, begging for a call from its absent owner, fearing that he wouldn't come to me as he did with its siblings. Even without control over the creature, I intensely experienced its frustration and fear.

Finally, awakening came, leaving me slightly fatigued, but my body quickly rose in Lucis's tent. Upon realizing the loneliness around me the next morning, I got up and went in search of food, as the tent was empty. Observing the movement of people around me, I noticed a group of children near Lucis's tent. As soon as I stepped out and they saw me, one of them approached, giving me a suspicious look.

"You woke up, you're the stranger who stole my sister!" the boy inquired, maintaining his suspicion.

"What did your sister say about me?" I replied, smiling, trying to forget the strange dream and focus on other things.

"She said you're a very strong warrior and agreed to be stolen by you," said the 10-year-old boy in his childish voice.

"You guys are strange, do you really need to kill a whole group just to win a woman?" I muttered to myself, unheard by the boy.

I shook the boy's head and headed towards the campfire where a stew was bubbling. A man in fur clothes saw me and offered a mug to serve from the wooden pot on the fire. It wasn't the fanciest meal, but neither was it the worst. The persistent boy separated from the other children and followed me all the time, eager to ask me endless questions.

"Is it true that you killed crows?" he asked, fascinated.

"I killed some evildoers," I replied.

"When I grow up, I'll be known as the greatest crow hunter in the world!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"You can bet on it," I agreed, feeling strangely touched by the boy.

"Not just them, I'll be the tribe leader like Aunt Karsi, I'll kill the Starks and rule their lands!" the boy declared, leaving me speechless and opened his mouth again.

"You killed crows, can you teach me how to fight?" he asked hopefully.

"I can teach you a thing or two while I'm here, but it depends on you enduring hard training," I replied, thinking it wouldn't hurt to put a child through some training.

"I will!" he affirmed, interrupting his questions when his sister approached, busy with something to add to the stew. "You still haven't told me your name, squirt," I asked, taking a sip of the stew with some dead rabbit.