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Why would colors be faded? In all the stories I had heard about afterlives, nothing stated how unappealing colors were. And why was I in a strange land and not on Bear Island? Had I angered the gods that much that they would not let me return home? I let out a howl and I jumped up. Or at least tried to.
Instead of having two legs and two arms, I had four legs and white fur. Ghost? I had gone into Ghost's body as my spirit lay dying? My new body stayed sprawled on the ground as I tried to comprehend the direwolf's form.
Besides the faded colors, I noticed my sense of smell was good enough to replace sight. I still needed to see but the scents in the air provided more information than my human eyes ever could. Over time I would be able to learn the language of a direwolf's smell, but not today. Today as the sun came over the horizon, I had to get back to Winterfell. I had to tell Khaleesi I was alive. That I was not one of the many who had fallen during the battle. I feared if I left her side that the madness would begin take over. The madness everyone could sense and the madness Daenerys had been able to keep at bay for so long. She would not become her father as long as I lived and breathed.
I focused on moving my legs to stand up but only succeeded in flaying them about. My hind legs felt so awkward for a moment I thought the knees were reversed. I had to stop focusing on moving a direwolf's body like my own. If I got back before they burned my body I would be able to leave this nightmare behind.
After five minutes of vainly trying to stand up, I rested. Once calmed I could feel all the pains Ghost had endured. The wounds incurred during the battle with the dead including the loss of part of one ear. Maybe the exhaustion I was feeling wasn't my own. Maybe there was enough of Ghost's instincts to help me. I had learned about wargs but it wasn't the same as attempting their feats.
Slowly, very slowly, I stood up on Ghost's four legs. Four legs that had a very different feel to them than my own. They were hardier than my own. There was no need for shoes now. I could run the speed of a horse over rough terrain. I wanted to run now. Was that my fear or one of Ghost's needs?
It felt awkward to stand in this position. If I were to stand on Ghost's hind legs I could nearly reach my height. Ghost's body was like that of a horse so I could've ridden him during the Battle of Winterfell. Yet since my head was closer to the ground than normal, I felt smaller. The only thing that gave me any feeling of strength was the power of a direwolf.
Instead of a sword I had teeth and claws. Instead of my usual sight I had smell. Instead of a horse I had a compass. The idea came to me suddenly once I realized I didn't need to rely on the rising sun to tell me North, South, East, and West. If this became my body then I would never need to be confused about directions again.
Winterfell...I focused on my sense of smell. Though I couldn't see beyond the trees, the castle would be consumed by the scent of burning bodies. The scent of burning flesh is one that never fades into memory. The smell usually invades when you're relaxed and not thinking about anything else. If Ghost's sense of smell was so good, it was possible he could tell the scent from others. I didn't even have to know how to differentiate smells that well because burning flesh was so unique.
I lifted Ghost's head up and I was confronted with the scents of countless burning bodies. They smelled old enough to only be those burned during the battle. I took one unsteady foot forward as I remembered the claustrophobic battle. There had been nothing but the dark and dead. The feeling of the wind against my fur made me calm down. At least there wouldn't be anymore dead attacking me. No dead would ever harm the Westerosi people ever again. Was that enough honor to make my House forgive me? Did it matter?
I took another unsteady step forward and nearly fell down due to a large bird flying by. Due to the sense of smell, difficulty standing up, and an innate sense of direction I didn't realize how good my hearing was. The crow had landed on a tree and was looking at me. I could hear him breathing as well as sounds that had to be miles away. The crow looked at me for a few minutes and then flew away. The sound of his wings flapping was beautiful.
I focused on every sound I heard but couldn't hear a person speaking. There had to be limits to how clearly I could hear things over a great distance. To learn anything about the battle I would have to return to Winterfell. I took more unsteady steps in my direwolf body. How did wargs get comfortable being in another body? It was possible they had an innate ability that allowed them to get comfortable in such situations. Was I a warg or was this a mere accident?
What if my body was burned before I got back to Winterfell? I looked down at my paws. I smelled with my nose. I heard with my ears. None of the powerful traits of this creature would be worth it. My body was me and my spirit assumed that shape. And how could Daenerys love me now that I was not human?
I couldn't start thinking those thoughts now. If my mind collapsed in on itself now then there would be no chance for me to change my fate. No chance for Khaleesi to embrace my body and me to be by her side as she ruled the Seven Kingdoms.
There was no time for doubt. I had to put her out of my mind for the moment. All I could think was how grateful to Jon Snow I was. To think that his idiotic idea worked was a miracle. Either some god wanted me alive or direwolves held a power even House Stark was unaware of.
The only other thought that could go through my head was seeing Melisandre. I did not much care for the Red Priestesses but there had been rumors in Winterfell about one raising Jon from the dead. She must have been able to bring the bastard's soul from another plane. The Red Woman could do the same for me.
The question about Melisandre became if she would help me or not. I was sure there were many soldiers and she wouldn't be strong enough to bring them all back. My life was just one of many. If she decided that Daenerys was connected to a prophecy then she might agree to bring me back. Or possibly Jon would ask on my behalf. He had cared enough to offer me Ghost's body to warg into.
What was the difference where Jon's and my soul were? I hadn't passed to the afterlife. Ghost had called out to me and I had instinctively followed his call. Now I was in his body and using it in place of my own. My own body that had been killed in Winterfell. Melisandre would be able to patch my wounds so that I didn't have to violate another's body.
I walked forward more easily than before. Ghost's legs still felt wrong but at least I wasn't in danger of falling over. Now that I could enjoy his body more I noticed how warm I was. It didn't feel that cold out to the point the cold temperature had slipped my mind. When Melisandre put me back into my body, I would miss the warmth provided by the direwolf's body.
Over the course of thirty minutes I was able to walk at a steady pace. The legs that had once felt so foreign to me became comfortable. It still was odd that they weren't mine, but at least they weren't so hard to use. I sniffed the air and took in all the scents around me. By my nose alone I could tell what animals had walked here. This included the dead. Even if the scent of the dead burning wasn't in the air, I could still follow the tracks of the Night King's army.
I stopped and sniffed one of the wight's tracks. A growl left my throat as with direwolf's senses the dead monstrosities were even worse. No wonder Ghost had agreed to be with me in the initial charge. No wonder he had injured himself in the hopes of killing as many as he could. For a moment the direwolf mind was in danger of taking over. Then I reminded myself of who I was and the fact the dead were gone now.
After a few minutes of walking to Winterfell I decided to run. I paused briefly to feel the power I had over this body. Ghost's legs were now my own as were his eyes, ears, nose, and every other part of him. There was nothing to fear as he was a creature of the North. While I had lived on Bear Island, Ghost had been an integral part of this place.
I had been aware of how fast Ghost could run. He had been by my side as we charged the Night King's army. But it was one thing watching him run and another being in his body as he ran. The trees flew past me as if blown away and I had to react quickly so I didn't run into a tree. It was exhilarating. If there was one thing that I would hate to give up it was this speed. The snow flew away when my paws plunged into the ground.
No wonder direwolves, wolves, and hounds loved running. It was not just freedom, it was fun. I let out a loud howl and wished there were other direwolves for me to run with. Others for me to share this joy with. I didn't care if those thoughts were from Ghost or myself. As I continued to run the sun rose higher into the sky and there was an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. It felt as if someone was trying to pull me away and I resisted because of the feeling of wind crashing against my fur.
After awhile I expected to feel tired. I had run faster and for longer than any human had before. Yet this body wasn't tired at all. How long could Ghost run for? Unfortunately Winterfell was now in my line of sight. Another day and time I could figure out that question. For now I ran towards the bare outlines of the castle I knew was there.
Soon I would be back in my body. Soon I would be in the arms of my love. Soon everything would return to normal as we prepared to fight Cersei Lannister. Khaleesi would need me at that time as her darker nature would be in danger of taking over. The execution of the false queen needed to be handled with delicacy. The common people needed to see her kind heart and those loyal to Cersei needed to fear her. My love had the qualities to handle both.
I wanted to let another howl out but something told me to stop. Something told me that howling was dangerous. Ghost had been an extremely silent direwolf compared to most wild animals. The dislike of howling must come from him. No matter, he would have control of his limbs shortly.
The scent of burning bodies was now more powerful and I slowed my pace. The fallen had been placed on numerous pyres. Each body had been handled with care as was befitting of any hero. While Daenerys and Jon's names would be known by everyone and the dead's names lost to time, memories of them would never be forgotten. Each of the fallen had made it possible for the living to win the war. I stopped when I reached the farthest pyre whose flames reached towards the gods.
I bowed my head in reverence for their sacrifices. Because they were burning now, the living never had to worry about a monster like the Night King coming ever again. Once I was back in my own body I would learn the names of every one of the fallen.
With each pyre I passed I took note of the toll it had cost the armies. A small amount of Dothraki were burning far away from Essos. If Jon and Khaleesi had listened to their advisors, the barbarians could be alive. Or at least had a more fitting death. It was them that had given my love so much strength. They had stoked the flames that Viserys had thought extinguished from Daenerys. How wrong he had been.
Once I got close enough for people to see me, I stopped to look at the survivors. The direwolf eyes were useless to see how I was accustomed to. I tried to smell Lyanna Mormont but couldn't find her that way. It could be that I wasn't used to her scent as a human and so couldn't identify her while a direwolf. With my eyes I looked for a young girl in the front. Maybe I couldn't find her with Ghost's eyes because she looked different.
After a few minutes of working out what I was seeing, I saw Theon Greyjoy standing next to Sansa Stark. With the odd smell coming from his skin I assumed he had been brought back to life. So Melisandre was alive and had brought back at least one person back to life. She could be resting after bringing Theon back or she could be working on raising another person back to life. Hopefully if Lyanna wasn't here that meant the Red Woman was helping bring her back to life.
A few people looked at me but then went back to looking at the dead. Everyone looked guilty and I could understand why. Whenever I had been part of a great battle there had been guilt eating away at me. Men I had joked with mere hours before were being ripped apart by crows and yet I was alive. The victors of this battle might need a few weeks to recover from what they had been through. Gilly, Sam's wife, was a kind woman and might be able to console them. Sansa was the Lady of Winterfell and men might find it unnerving to speak to her as a friend.
My nose eventually lead me to walk towards home. The smell of her hair and skin were stronger than I remembered. I was more than certain that it was her I was smelling. I wanted to race to her and hug her, but that wouldn't do for such a solemn ceremony. This morning was a celebration of everyone who had sacrificed the most, not my own joy at being alive.
My eyes picked up a faded version of Khaleesi and her scent told me more than vision ever could. I walked up to her which made her look at me oddly. Ever since coming North she had always been looked at as an outsider. No one had treated her as a Northerner. This made sense as my people did not trust outsiders and Targaryens made us more nervous than most. So to have a direwolf, a symbol of House Stark and the North, greet her was more than an oddity.
"I told Jorah he could warg into Ghost's body if his body died." Jon whispered so that no one but Khaleesi could hear him.
With direwolf hearing it seemed as if he were shouting the words and I looked to see if anyone else heard him. But, of course, they hadn't. They were limited by the human sense of hearing. I had never realized how weak my hearing was until I had been put into Ghost's body. It was something I would miss once I had my body returned to me.
"Are you sure?" Khaleesi whispered back.
"Ghost wouldn't walk up to you like that." Jon replied. "He doesn't walk up to many like that."
She nodded but I sensed nervousness from her. She should be excited to have me back as our relationship would only grow from this point. I could spend every night warming her bed and she wouldn't need to deny her feelings for me anymore. Unless...unless Melisandre had fallen and I had only misread Theon's odd scent.
Daenerys wrapped her arms around my neck and cried into my fur. Even though her touch wasn't like it was when I was human, it was wonderful. Being with her, no matter the form, meant more to me than anything.
[I love you, Khaleesi.] I said with my mind.
"Jorah?" Daenerys whispered as if she heard me. "Did you speak?"
"I didn't hear anything." Jon replied.
"I heard something faint, like from a great distance away."
Jon shrugged and Daenerys stood up. The people were now looking at me with wonder on their faces. The Northerners must be wondering if Ghost accepting Daenerys meant they should honor her as one of them. It would be a good political move to lie but Jon didn't like to twist the truth and Daenerys was far too excited at the moment.
"My greatest lover and advisor, Ser Jorah Mormont, is alive." Daenerys said and pointed to me. "Jon Snow allowed him to go into Ghost's body if his body died during the battle. Jorah allowed himself to die only when I was safe. He has now been given the chance to serve me again."
Jon was relieved to hear Daenerys call me her lover? The rift between the two must have been greater than I had imagined. I understood why my love had made her choice, but not why Jon agreed with cheating in this instance.
Everyone cheered and I bowed my head in humility. The question regarding Jon's feelings towards Khaleesi could be answered later.
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