PRELUDE
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THE WILDLING WITH NO FREE WILL
                                                                                  

     THE YOUNG REDHEAD would have never expected her delicate life to take a major plot twist — only three years of existence, and she was already out in the woods, all alone.

She was still a small, fragile bean then, wrapped in a clothes like a makeshift swaddle. Winter enveloped the young girl, like a blanket.

The cold pierced her pale skin like raining daggers, as the baby cried softly, the blizzard covering up the sounds it makes.

The baby didn't understand what that prickling sensation was, nor the shivers running down her spine, as she squirmed inside the fleece blankets, and cried louder.

At that time, three deserters of the Night's Watch — all men in black — just finished their fair square of dinner, as they sluggishly walked back to their little camp, laughing as they walked through the snow.

They came across of the small figure, squirming and crying altogether. The first one — tall, skinny, with fiery red hair, knelt down, their furry rags meeting with the icy cold hail.

"Look what we have here, Mekhun." He picked it up by the swaddle, as the baby continued to cry, her tears flowing down her chubby cheeks. "It's a baby." The other one, Mekhun — short, a bit stout, balding hair — held his chin thoughtfully, as he observed the young girl, but something else caught his attention.

"Turent, look." He walked over to where the baby once laid, and a tiny juniper was in its place. "A flower? Amidst all these snow?" Turent peered over his comrade's shoulder, and gasped. "Impossible." Their eyes turned back to the baby, who has stopped crying, and were staring at them, her big blue eyes widening as they spoke amongst themselves. The third one — dark hair, blue eyes — shook his head in dismay. "What do we even care about it? It's probably lost its parents. Best bet that Walkers ate them.

"Turent... no.... who cares about it...you have a point.. but no, gods know who's the whore that owns the baby.. Turent... fine. Alright." Mekhun walked over to the young redhead, who squirmed from his grasp, as he held her up. "Now, let's go. It's getting colder, and we don't want White Walkers tailing behind us." Mekhun handed the baby to Turent, who gingerly got it from his companion, and hushed it softly, and gently ticking it. The baby giggled. The third one, who goes by the name Brodyi, sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You know? I'll name you Juniper." He gave her an earnest smile, flashing a toothed grin, although some were absent. "You will be a warrior, someday. You will fight, and maybe earn the Iron Throne for yourself, you know?"

"Turent! Come on!" shouted Mekhun, as they hauled themselves through the never-ending Winter, the blizzard growing stronger, making it harder to see. The temperature dropped, and it grew colder, as their breathing became ragged and unstable. "TURENT!" Brodyi was nowhere to be seen, as it seemed that he fled.

He turned back, just as when a wight tackled Mekhun, his body hitting the ground roughly. "MEKHUN!" There was a rough hand on his shoulder, and a powerful hit to the abdomen, Turent started to feel dizzy, amidst his instinct to survive all this, for Juniper. Wait, Juniper.

He looked up to see Juniper snatched from his arms, seeing that it was a wight. "NOO-OO!" He screamed, just when Turent saw the shady figure of his friend slicing through the wight with all his strength, panting. Mekhun grabbed Juniper in the ground, and looked back at Turent, as the wights started to pile on his weak and frail body. "GO! GO TO CAMP! KEEP JUNIPER SAFE! PROMISE ME, MEKHUN! AT LEAST GIVE HER A-" His words became muffled, as the wights started eating his skin away, their mouths gaping open for the savory taste of human flesh.

Mekhun's face was filled with horror, as he pushed Juniper to his chest, and ran from the hordes of wights, as they continuously ate away Turent's flesh, his last sight being Mekhun's figure running farther from him before his vision collapsed, and total darkness.

♜♜♙♜♜

     THE STOUT DESERTER ran. Ran like a thousand demons were chasing him, with a crave for human flesh. In reality, it was indeed true, and the demons were real. Alive.

Mekhun looked down at the baby, her face weak and delicate, as she started to cry. He snorted, and continued to run towards camp, although not the deserter's camp. A Wildling camp, the Night's Watch archenemy.

"You messed with my friend. You killed him." He spat at the child, knowingly that she didn't understand a word he said. "We could have survived the night, if it wasn't for you."

Mekhun angrily stomped towards it, as the torches from afar signaled that he was nearing the Free Folk camps. This was over.

As he entered, the Wildlings all surrounded him at once, being a man in black. He placed the baby down, and raised his hands. "I come in peace. I have an item to sell to your Commander. I demand to speak with him." They all exchanged looks, when one came forward.

He had balding hair, almost exactly like Mekhun, but his lips were covered by a sneer, as he looked up and down at the deserter. "What is the meaning of this!"

Mekhun cleared his throat, before composing himself. "I offer you, a child you could train. We...– I.." Mekhun resisted the urge to tear up, especially in front of these... these barbarians.

He cleared his throat once more, as the Free Folk peered at him with looks of confusion and coldness. "I... found this child in the woods, and I figured... I thought it was perfect for you." The leader eyed him with suspicion, as he stepped closer to the baby, and touched its cheek. It started to cry, out of nowhere.

"It is weak." He tapped his chin, observing the child. "But... it would make a good... plaything." Mekhun stared at him in horror, as he got the child from his arms, the baby continuously weeping. As the leader walked back to his quarters, he stopped, and turned back to Mekhun, the deserter. "Sir? What about the gold? It was an item, not a gift..." His voice was shaky, as he looked at the Wildling.

The leader paused for a moment, thinking. He was in dire condition of restlessness, but the decision was easy. "Kill him."

His screams echoed through the fields, as the leader walked inside, smiling at the child. "We are going to have so much fun together." The baby giggled at his smile, but little does Juniper know it was full of malice.

♜♜♙♜♜

     JUNIPER WAS FIVE, when she actually first experienced her terror filled childhood. She was out running, the cold wind freezing her small toes, as the boots didn't do much but cling to her flesh like gnats. Exhausted, Juniper crouched down and panted loudly.

"Hey! Juniper!" She felt a whack at the back, as her body met the snow and mud. Juniper looked up to see Stiv, smirking down at her. "What are you waiting for? Get up!!" Pain seared her backside, as Juniper stood up, wobbling from the pain at her back, and continued to run, listening to Stiv's malicious laughs echo, as she distanced from him.

♜♜♙♜♜

     THE REDHEAD WAS eight, when the Free Folk jeered at her to play with swords. They took away her blanket during nights, accidentally pushed her to the ground, smearing her face with hail mixed with mud.

Juniper did not understand why they were mean towards her. From all she knew, Juniper haven't wronged them in any way. At last, she grudgingly agreed to play with weapons.

It was a cold morning, as Juniper shakily took her place in the center, all Wildling eyes on her. Her heart raced, as she saw Stiv cackling and patting each other's backs.

She looked back in front of her, as the leader of the camp raised his hand for silence. Everyone quieted down, before he gestured for Juniper to come forward. When she didn't move one limb, two Wildlings came forward, and dragged her towards him, intentionally rough. "Hey!"

They thrusted her forward, and Juniper's face, once again, met right to the ground mixture. The redhead heard cackling from behind her, and snarled loudly. The Free Folk commander paid no attention, as to see how Juniper will act appropriately. She didn't say a word, as the young girl stood up straighter.

The commander gave her another stern glance, before giving her a bow almost as tall as her. "How am I suppose to use this, it's almost my height." Stiv started to laugh from behind, and the others chorused. Juniper swallowed back down her words, and tried it out, all five fingers clinging at the bow tightly.

"She doesn't know how to use it! That is so depressing, whore!" Stiv shouted from behind, as his comrades Locke and Karl howled in laughter, as they continued to ridicule her.

Juniper shut her eyes tightly, desperately trying to shun the world around her, her three right fingers curling around the string in anger. "SHE'S DOING IT WRONG! HAR HAR HAR!" They sneered and howled mockingly.

Juniper struggled pulling the string taut, her three fingers pressing against her pale cheek. "WHORE!" There was an erupt of laughter coming from behind her. The leader couldn't suppress a smile, either. This fueled her anger even more, as Juniper sent the arrow flying.

It hit over the target, and laughter once more, filled the freezing air, as Juniper's shoulders sag in defeat, albeit the leader shot her a glare. Keep on going, it said. Juniper didn't want this. She shook her head no, before — which actually took guts — walking out of the field, with the Wildlings jeering down at her.

♜♜♙♜♜

     "YOU WHORE! SON OF A BITCH!" The redhead's petite body slammed against the wall, as a hand was pushing her chest, in anger and madness. The commander, in all his mercy, could not tolerate disobedience in the camp. His camp. "FUCK YOU!"

Juniper was shaking, tears falling down her cheeks. She should be used to this. She should be used to harsh treatments as a child, and all this. But the redhead couldn't bring herself to accept it all. Something must be done.

"SAY SOMETHING, WHORE! SAY YOU'RE SORRY!" He snarled, as Juniper's chin was roughly tilted upward, meeting the commander's murderous glare. She swallowed a snarl, before muttering. "I'm sorry."

"I CANNOT HEAR YOU!" He shouted in her ear, and Juniper couldn't take it, as a child. "I AM SO SO SORRY, ALRIGHT?!" Juniper's sobs became uncontrollable, her scream echoing across camp, before silence fell.

"Play the game like that? I'll play." The leader sneered, dragging the child outside, and continued to beat her, Juniper crying as she had attempts to shield herself, before realizing it all came out as useless.

He kicked her in the stomach, as Juniper wheezed, and coughed up blood on the ground. The Free Folk didn't dare interrupt — they do know how murderous their leader could be — as they watched it all unfold before them.

Juniper raised a bloody hand — a call for a halt, but the commander — either didn't see it or ignored her signal — still followed on, his kicks becoming harsher as time passes.

When young Juniper was sure that it ached all over, a murky figure swam in her vision, a woman years older than her, hair neatly tied behind her, with eyes that could — surely — penetrate someone at first glance. "Stop it now, Commander. That's enough." The leader panted, and turned to her, his eyes narrowing. "And why is that, Osha? I wasn't done with her just yet." He spat a mixture of saliva and blood at Juniper's eyes, blinding her vision a bit.

The woman grabbed Juniper's arm, and pulled her to her feet roughly. Wobbling, the redhead still managed to maintain her standing, only it wasn't as great as when she is... healthier.

The woman shot glares at whoever looked her way, as she half-dragged, half-pulled Juniper to her tent, and set her down at the bed.

The nine year old redhead found it all of it intriguing. "Who are-" Her voice was silenced, by the Wildling, raising her hand up. "Questions later. I need to clean your wounds."

The woman knelt at the bedside, as she tightly wrapped a tourniquet around the bleeding wound at her forearm. She turned away, dabbing another square piece of cloth with ale, and looking back at the scrapes and cuts on her knees. "This might.. sting." Pain rattled her bones, as Juniper bit her lip deeply, shutting her eyes. Tears slid down her cheeks quietly.

"There. You may open your eyes if you want." The child's eyes fluttered open, as tears swam in her vision, the Wildling gave her a glance.

"Why.. are you doing this..?" Her voice was soft, barely heard if you are a few meters away from her. The woman sighed, not responding.

Juniper tried once more. "What is your name?" Silence fell on the two Wildlings, with the older woman staring at Juniper's cerulean blue orbs.

"Osha." The redhead grinned, and took her hand and squeezed it. Osha flinched at the sudden contact, but her shoulders softened, and gave a small smile, barely seen.

"Osha. Osha. Osha and Juniper. Yes."

♜♜♙♜♜

     OSHA AND JUNIPER became fast friends, although Osha only thought of the redhead as her little sister. Little does that the Wildling woman knows that Juniper... Juniper has slowly fallen for her.

When Juniper was growing better in combat — with constant practice, and advice from Osha, she couldn't help but watch her friend win numerous battles amongst Wildlings, silently cheering her on. This what love meant to the redhead Wildling — and yes, she was now confident enough to proclaim herself as one.

Her speciality was with accuracy, Juniper learned across the months of intensive training. The bow transformed from being her traumatic childhood enemy, to her next best friend in the battlefield.

At the age of twelve, her heart was broken, as Juniper woke up to another day of snow, she found herself alone, with no Osha beside her.

Juniper blindly thought that Osha was out hunting, or in a mission or any sort. But only the Old Gods know where her friend — no, her secret love — was.

It wearied her every night, as Juniper quietly looked out at the falling hail, waiting for Osha to come back, and tuck her in her bed. Her worry grew bigger every passing day.

As Juniper's boots lugged across the snow, she was no longer ridiculed, as she constantly challenged others to accuracy battles, and the commander considered himself impressed, and almost forgot everything he did in the past. But oh boy, did Juniper not forget how he wronged her. It fueled her vengefulness against him.

As a gift — and possibly, to say sorry for how he wronged her, he even gave her a pair of twin axes, made out of Valyrian Steel, and named her his own successor if he ever perishes.

Osha was still gone, and that's when Juniper noticed that Stiv and one other Wildling was absent, too. Karl and Locke still maintained their proud attitude, but kept their distance from Juniper, obviously terrified.

Juniper still couldn't fill that void tugging at her heart, and thought of her friend in the middle of the night. Occasionally, she went inside Osha's tent, and spent the night there.

The redhead was a firm believer of the Old Gods' religion, something she picked up from Osha as she did relay to her bits of Wildling tradition. Juniper constantly prayed every night, hoping to reunite with her friend.

One night, as Juniper looked out the window, a raven flew inside the tent, and perched on Osha's table, and cawed loudly. Rubbing her eyes, Juniper saw it, and smiled. Was it a gift from the Gods?, she thought, slowly petting the bird, and poured it a bit of water from her satchel. The raven cawed, and sipped it, Juniper giggling at how it swiftly connected with the redhead, and decided to name it.

"Your Name will be... Bran."

Little she knew that the Old Gods have something else in mind..., her destiny not to be fulfilled by her childhood Free Folk love, but by a crippled Little Lord, seeking for a Raven.

And his name is Bran Stark.