The very idea had Jon practically drooling with excitement, and he wasted no time. He used the fish's mind as a stepping stone and swiftly sent his consciousness towards the source of the tentacle.
"WHO... IS... IT???!!!"
Out of nowhere, his mind was suddenly blasted with an immense consciousness, his sentience was like a small fishing boat caught in a fierce storm, just about to capsize from the tsunami-like waves continuously boarding him.
"STOP!!!!"
It was almost overwhelming, and he screamed unconsciously just as he was on the verge of losing his mind and somehow miraculously the consciousness battering him actually listened to him and stopped... giving him a much-needed breather.
"Who are you..." the voice repeated its question this time a bit more softly.
"I am Jon Snow, A Warg, I am here—" Jon began to answer before the haze in his mind cleared and his brain caught up with the situation and he realised that he was actually speaking in Old Tongue, "What? How can you speak?" he asked, baffled that he had found a creature using words, especially in the Old Tongue.
Even amongst his personal Wargs only Frost had begun able to speak and too was only in a somewhat broken common tongue, the language he most used. It was completely absurd that he came across a creature using words... words from the Ancient First Man language that he learned from Old Nan in his childhood.
"So you're a Warg, huh..." The voice mumbled before answering his question, "Yes, I can speak the Old Tongue. You're not the first warg I've come across.," The Kraken helpfully supplied memories and thoughts along with his reply.
In those memories, Jon glimpsed a burly northern man in rugged leather clothing who had raised the Kraken from a young age. The Kraken went on a lot of adventures with that man, and the most noticeable thing about that man was the variety of animals he always brought with him. Sometimes it was a bear and sometimes it was a couple of direwolves and other times just an eagle.
Jon immediately connected the dots. "The Warg King."
"Yes, Some people did call him that," the voice replied in a musing tone, "Are you his descendent, perhaps?"
"Er... Y-Yes... Yes, I am," Jon said hesitatingly, as while it wasn't a completely truth, technically, he wasn't actually lying.
The Warg King was an ancient myth mentioned in a few dusty old texts in the library of Winterfell. He was a monarch and a skinchanger who lived in the North at an unknown point in history, ruled the Sea Dragon Point when he was alive and was said to have been an ally with the children of the forest.
But like all the other petty kings of the North, he was also defeated by the Kings of Winter of House Stark, and as was their custom at that time, the Starks killed his sons, beasts, and greenseers, but took his daughters as prizes... so in a skewed way he did share some blood with the man.
"Good... Good... How long it has been..." the voice said in a nostalgic tone as if it was remembering all the fond memories of his younger days.
"I don't know... A long long time,"
"Hmm... I know what you came to me for boy," he voice suddenly changed tone, "But you're too late now... I am old now and don't have much desire to go on adventures anymore... the only thing I can do much of now is just eat and sleep..."
Jon was immensely disappointed when he heard that, he already envisioned all kinds of scenarios in his mind about what he would do with all the gold that he would retrieve from the sea bed with the Kraken's help and now to hear that he wouldn't come with him was almost devastating.
"But—"
Thankfully the voice continued, "I have a young granddaughter who was always very interested in all the tales of adventures that I used to tell her when she was young, so I am sure that she'll be happy to accompany you for a few years,"
"Really!" Jon exclaimed, "Where is she? Where can I find her?" he asked excitedly.
"Oh! She's hunting not that far from here. Let me call her," Without waiting for Jon's response, the Kraken sent out a massive sound pulse, outside of a human's range, that Jon could only sense through the sudden waves created around his real body.
While they waited for the Kraken's granddaughter, Jon realized a crucial detail he had overlooked "Wait! You said that she's young, right? How young are we talking about?"
The Kraken replied casually, "She's just a toddler. But give her a few decades, and she'll be big enough..."
'But I don't have a few decades...' JJon's heart sank. He didn't have decades to wait. He wanted a fearsome sea creature to explore the world's seas from Bravoos to Quarth to the Sothoryos unhindered and not a baby squid that he would have to raise, "T-Then what about you son or your daughter?"
"My Son? My son is with his mate in a far far away place..." Jon immediately saw an image of a mysterious peninsula shrouded and hidden inside enormous poisonous clouds of smoke... probably the Old Valyrian stronghold, "And besides he's not much of a fan of you humans, so I don't think you should go anywhere near him if you don't want to become food—Oh, she's here,"
And indeed Jon could make out another mind approaching them at astonishing speeds. The new consciousness while still absurdly big compared to the normal living creatures he usually saw, was a lot smaller than the old Kraken's consciousness.
"Grandpa! You called?" the newcomer immediately asked her grandfather using sounds and vibrations and Jon picked up her meaning from her mind through the usual method instead of the almost human conversation he was having with the Old Kraken in Old Tongue. But that made sense as it would be too absurd for the Kraken to be able to teach Old Tongue to his Progeny.
"Remember Child, you once told me that you wanted to go on adventure like your grandpa when you were young?"
"Yes, I remember," the young lively mind replied.
"Well I found you a friend who will take you on those adventures—"
"Really! Where is he, Grandpa?" she interrupted him impatiently and immediately started searching the depths excitedly.
"He is there... on the surface,"
Not even a few seconds after that Jon felt that mind approaching him rapidly through the depths, and then instead of the baby squid that he was expecting a massive surface appeared below him and started to raise him above the surface.
"Waaa...."
An absurdly massive octopus head had suddenly appeared below him and if not for the night every single person onboard the ship would have seen her.
Jon had never seen a creature so big in his entire life, even the biggest blue whale he had seen in his previous life seemed like a small fish compared to it.
"Hello! Are you my new Friend!"
'If she's a young one,' Jon thought in horrified fascination as he looked at her massive size, 'Then how fucking big is the Old Grandpa,'
...
"Did ya finish the task?" Mance inquired without turning around.
"Aye, the fucker is dead," Tormund responded as he approached. I've brought his wives or daughters, whatever they are," he added, his face scrunching up in disgust. "Left 'em with Dalla, so now they're your problem."
"Don't fret 'bout that" Mance replied while handing the red-headed burly man the pouch of ale at his waist, "I am sure we can find work for them," he smirked while jerking his head towards the valley below them.
Both of them were standing on a small hill covered with snow, not far away from the coast, that overlooked a vast valley filled with trees. In the valley, Wildlings from various clans, men and women alike, were working together without the usual bloodshed, a sight almost miraculous.
The Freefolk were toiling with all their might on all kinds of things, some were cutting trees, others were turning them into smaller pieces for handling, some were just moving stuff from one place to another, and some more were bringing sacks on their back that were filled with metal mined from a distant mine.
"I don't know why you're doing so much for some southern shit!" Tormund grumbled after taking a hearty swig, and almost emptying the pouch, "That bastard's got our folk working like thralls here, and now he wants us to off folks like Caster. You gone all soft from your trips south, Mance?"
Jon had been pretty clear in his recent letters that Mance needed to cut off all sources of information the Night's Watch had north of the Wall. If they got word of what was happening here and snitched to the lords, All their trade plans would die in their infancy
"Slaves work on orders and they work 'cause they got no choice and get nothin' in return for it. What we are doin' here is called trade, and these people are working hard not 'cause I told them to but 'cause they want to get their hands on the food that I promised them," Mance replied patiently. He had already repeated the same words too many times when he explained to the clan leaders of all the different tribes so by now he was already used to all the questions and scepticism, "We are going to get a lot of food in exchange for anything we trade... You like food don't ya?"
"Ah! Whatever! I don't understand it, but I'll go along with it for now." Tormund grumbled. He then nodded toward another hill across from them, where clan leaders who had refused Mance's offer gathered. Among them stood the Magnar of Thenn and the Lord of Bones, also known as Rattleshirt. "But you do know that not all of them are happy with what you're doing here,"
"Don't worry 'bout them," Mance reassured Tormund. "I've talked to Styr, and he'll join once he sees the trade workin'." the Thenns were one of the most sophisticated tribes this side of walls and they also had regular deals with the Giants so if they joined in this project it would be a huge boon, "Many others are probably waitin' to see results before they make up their minds. As for the Rattleshirt... he's just a little man with some savages, he'll not be a hindrance,"
"I wouldn't be so sure 'bout that," Tormund replied with a sceptical shrug. "Heard Rattle shirt's called on Varamyr Sixskins... probably to help him loot the ships of your man from the South when he arrives,"
"Did he know... And how did he know about Jon being a warg—Ah! Ygritte!" Mance shook his ruefully as he realised who was the leak, "That girl talks too much for her own good,"
"So... Are you going to warn your southern partner 'bout this situation,"
"No need," Mance replied with a knowing smile. "If I'm right, he likely knows everything already..."
///