Chapter Text
For a few seconds it seemed as if the sun had risen and illuminated the Northern skies, or at least that was the effect created by the hundreds of flaming arrows that were launched. Jon watched as they flew overhead before falling hard on their enemies, most of them finding their target and managing to stick in the chest or head of a wight. Though hundreds fell, thousands more continued their charge towards them, not stopping, not fearing.
“Fire at will! Hit them with everything we've got!” Jon shouted the orders again.
Round after round of arrows were fired from the walls of Winterfell, this time accompanied also by the catapults they had mounted outside the gates. These had been armed with huge, heavy fireballs, the damage was undoubtedly effective. The innumerable arrows and heavy buckshot finished off rows of wights, but they still came no closer to stopping the almost endless tide of lifeless bodies rushing straight at them.
Finally, he mounted his horse, unsheathing his sword, the rest of his army followed suit. As they had discussed, Jon would be leading the vanguard composed of the heavy mounted cavalry of the Knights of the Vale and the Dothraki riders. His plan was that using the horses he could break and crush the unmounted ranks of the army of the dead, just as Stannis had done with the army of the wildlings.
“Men of the West, ride with me. Ride with me to the end of the world. Ride now!” Jon shouted from his horse.
Raising their swords along with him, his men shouted excitedly.
“With the King! Follow the King! Ride with the King! For the North and the King!”
As they began to charge, just above them Drogon flew from them with a mighty roar, joining them and giving courage to his Dothraki.
“For the Khaleesi!”
They rode towards the enemy with great speed. Though it felt like an eternity, it was actually a few seconds before they met the army of the dead in the middle and clashed hard. Many of the horses gave way under the force of the impact and ended up collapsing along with their riders, but as he had expected, most of them were able to break through the lines of the enemies, who ended up running over and crushing them under the powerful legs of their horses.
Cutting through the enemy lines, Jon began to slash left and right from right to left at any wight that would want to knock him off his horse, both his sword and armor quickly becoming stained with blood and visors. Fortunately, his cavalry squad kept up their pace and quickly showed their superiority over the enemy on foot, eventually cutting through the first wave of wights. Leaving a trail of corpses which this time were definitely dead.
But despite the small victory, Jon knew that it would not be really that easy, he knew how the Night King controlled his army, he knew that this was only the first wave, there would be more, many more. And his suspicions were realized when he suddenly felt the ground shake and rumble beneath him. Looking up, he saw nearly a dozen giants emerge from the storm, running rapidly towards them. The giants were carrying huge clubs as large and thick as the trunk of a mature tree.
“Get back in line! Reform the line!” Jon shouted to his men; the knights again organized themselves into a single line. His horse reared up on its hind legs before he shouted again. “Charge!”
Fearlessly his men followed him and charged along with him towards the giants, but this time the enemy had the advantage, the giants swung their huge clubs at them with such force that they sent both horses and riders flying into the air before falling several yards into the distance. Fortunately, their horse was up to the task of his commands and they were able to dodge the giants' attacks. Although the difficult part was to attack, as he could not exactly reach the vital points due to the height difference. So, he decided to focus his tackles on the lower areas, cutting and piercing their legs, making them stumble and fall on their knees so that his men could finish the job, thrusting their spears into their chest or skull.
The Dothraki opted for another approach, but it proved to be just as effective, they used their small but powerful and accurate bows to attack the eyes of the giants, who were shooting skillfully from their still moving horses. Jon rode up just as one of the giants fell and was able to pierce its skull with his Valyrian steel sword, sending it crashing to the ground before it became a pile of bones. But in the midst of the fray, he didn't notice it looming behind him and by the time he did it was too late. He had no time to dodge the blow, so he could only brace himself for it. Fortunately for him, though, before the club could impact against him and leave him smashed against the ground, the giant was easily lifted into the skies by Drogon and before he could counterattack, the black dragon's enormous jaws opened and ripped him in half, finding the taste of rotting flesh very unpleasant he spat out half of the giant before releasing the other half from his claws.
Ordering her dragon to descend, Daenerys unleashed fire on her enemies killing several wights and giants, her men cheered and no doubt rejoiced to have their Queen on their side, but quickly the shouts of jubilation died down as a second roar joined Drogon's. Everyone watched the reanimated dragon being led by the Night King attack the larger dragon, with the advantage of the surprise factor. Fortunately, Drogon being bigger and stronger, was able to break free from his grip and counterattack, but if Drogon was stronger Viserion was much more agile and dodged his older brother before shooting off into the skies. Daenerys chose to follow him and the last he saw of his wife was as she disappeared with Drogon through the dark clouds.
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Tyrion and all the others who were positioned on the walls of Winterfell could see the fight, Ned Stark's youngest daughter did not stop trembling anxiously, it was more than obvious that she would rather be there with her brother than here with them. He shared the feeling, in a lesser way of course, he wasn't the best fighter, but he certainly felt very useless here while the men were fighting, but they couldn't exactly help them, not without the risk of harming their own troops as well. They could only wait and follow the orders the King of the North had left them.
“We should do something. We should send men to reinforce Jon's squad, I can lead them.” Arya finally broke the silence, not bearing to be silent any longer.
“We have our orders; we must stick to them.” Tyrion reminded her.
“That's not exactly my style.” Arya replied annoyedly, but it was Ser Davos who answered her with a calm smile.
“And your brother is well aware of that. That's why I leave the Queen's hand in charge and not you.”
Arya replied simply with a mocking grimace, not bothering with the words. 'Teenagers' Tyrion thought, but it seemed the Stark girl would get what she so desired, for as Jon predicted, the army of the dead would soon find their way to Winterfell.
“Ready your bows!” Tyrion shouted to his troops as a new wave of wights headed for the gates of Winterfell. “Aim... Fire!”
Again, hundreds of flaming arrows shot out towards their enemies, killing several, but still many continued their onslaught. For the main protection of the gates, Jon had entrusted them to the Unsullied. Though most had died in the siege of Kings Landing, including their commander and close advisor to the Queen, Grey Worm, the former Essosi slaves had appointed a new commander, who now led the troops. Tyrion knew Jon had made the right decision in assigning them to guard the gates, the Unsullied would not back down to anyone, and he was sure they would not do so against the army of the dead, their discipline was above and beyond any Westerosi army.
And they proved it as they took up a defensive position in unison, the Unsullied raised their heavy shields and pointed their long spears at the enemy. Their new commander, Sure Spear, shouted in a loud and firm voice.
“Daorys kessa rēbagon!”
With his little knowledge of Valyrian, Tyrion could make out the words, 'none shall pass'. They were the orders their King and Queen had commanded and they would carry it out to the end, even if it meant their dead, they would die defending those gates. The Unsullied proved their worth as the army of the dead finally crashed into them, the force of numerous wights drove them back a few yards, but when they finally came to a firm stop, they used their heavy shields to push them back before piercing them with their spears whose tips had been replaced with dragon glass before quickly returning to the shield formation and repeating the process with great precision and effectiveness, taking down row after row of wights.
Assisted by the archers positioned on the walls, they did a clean and quick job, for the first time Tyrion saw a glimmer of hope appear before what seemed to be an impenetrable defense and with the only weapon they could use against them being wielded by the Queen, the dwarf thought they would have a chance of holding off the army of the dead, but that thought quickly died when he heard a loud and resounding bark rumble the place and his bones.
Approaching the edge of the walls and standing on his feet so he could see over it, he saw three huge hairy elephants coming towards them.
Mammoths, they got fucking mammoths.
The huge, heavy beasts were coming dangerously close to the gates of Winterfell, Tyrion knew that the Unsullied would have no way of stopping the giant beasts. He quickly ordered the archers to direct their attacks at the mammoths and kill them before they reached the gates. Obeying his orders the archers changed their targets and fired at the mammoths, one of them even catching fire, but even that seemed to have no effect, the huge beasts remained reluctant and continued to advance, knocking several Unsullied out of the way with their mighty tusks.
The Essosi warriors began to throw their spears with impressive precision at the huge animals, managing to knock one down and finish it off once on the ground, but there was still another, which was about to impact against the gates. But before he could even be able to process it, Tyrion saw a speck fly out of the corner of his eye, incredulously he watched as Arya Stark leapt from the walls of Winterfell before falling to the ground with a flier, the northern girl charging towards the mammoth.
She had lost her mind.
Just when she thought she was about to be crushed by the massive animal, the Stark girl showed her impressive agility as she dodged its lunge before using the animal's own tusks to propel herself upwards and climb over it, managing to climb on top of it, she raised her new double-edged spear before burying it hard over the animal's eye, managing to pierce its skull and bringing it down instantly.
Completely shocked and knotted by the feat they had just witnessed, both he and Davos looked into each other's faces before telling him.
“She definitely didn't belong here with us.”
But Arya didn't stop with just the mammoth, as she remained in the midst of the battle dodging and slashing wights as nimbly as she did gracefully, her movements precise and lethal, dispatching one after another. It reminded him quite a lot of Oberyn Martell's fighting style, that speed and skill with which he moved, was something that took the red viper of Dorne many years to perfect, but for someone as young as the youngest daughter of the Starks, it was certainly something impressive.
He really wondered if all of Ned Stark's children were freaks of nature.
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Looking around Jon noticed that more than half of his squadron had fallen. Although they had managed to finish off the giants, there were still more wights approaching to confront them, they could not withstand another onslaught, he had no choice but to order the retreat and reorganize in Winterfell. But before he could give the order, he was violently rammed and knocked off his horse by a huge reanimated shadow cat. Due to the force of the blow and the fall, Jon dropped his sword and had no choice but to use his bare hands to stop the large feline from sinking its huge fangs into him.
Blood began to spill from his hands and he felt them losing strength due to the immense pressure exerted by the powerful jaw of the animal, but just when he felt that he was beginning to give in, his faithful Direwolf came to his rescue jumping on the animal and taking it off him. Jon watched as his wolf confronted the shadow cat, both beasts clashing wildly and using both claws and teeth to attack the other, he quickly picked up his sword and waiting for the moment to indicate, and found it as Ghost held the animal by the neck leaving it vulnerable before him, Jon buried his sword through the animal's abdomen, killing it instantly.
Breathing heavily, Jon took the time to stroke his wolf's head and mentally thank him for the help before turning and addressing his army, shouting the retreat.
“Back to the castle! Fall back!”
One of his men approached him and handed him a horse, climbing onto it he began to ride quickly towards Winterfell along with the few survivors, but not before giving one last glance to the skies hoping to find some sign of Daenerys somewhere, but he only met the dark clouds, there was no sign of her.
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Daenerys followed closely behind Viserion who was now being controlled by the Night King, she would have no doubt in her mind that she would murder him for what he had done to her son. Mentally commanding Drogon to speed up, her dragon roared and flapping his huge wings even more furiously, he went even further into the clouds. Piercing them completely and only seeing a clear sky with the moon shining brightly above them, Daenerys searched everywhere for Viserion, but did not find him until he decided to show himself. And although Drogon was the largest and strongest of her sons, and Viserion being the smallest of the three, he was the fastest, making him perfect for a surprise attack.
Viserion would attack from a higher point, hitting Drogon or throwing his flames at them before disappearing again and repeating the same strategy. Fortunately, her son was quick enough to turn and put his body to protect her at all times, Daenerys had to dodge several times the huge jaws of Viserion who tried to devour or burn her.
Backing away, Viserion tried again to escape, but Daenerys ordered Drogon not to let him out of her sight. As much as it pained her, she had to kill Viserion, this time Drogon was able to catch him and close his huge jaws around his younger brother's neck, Viserion struggled to break free using his hind legs, digging his sharp claws into Drogon's abdomen, but Drogon's grip did not give way. But Daenerys did not expect Viserion to turn his neck unnaturally and throw his fire at her, Drogon had no choice but to let go to protect her, but not before tearing off a large chunk of his skull, but this time Viserion counterattacked by throwing fire also on Drogon's face before trying to escape again, this time plummeting.
Now both rider and dragon, angry at the enemy, followed close behind him as well, plummeting into the clouds again.
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Arriving at Winterfell, Jon finds the castle under siege by the Wights, joining the Unsullied and unexpectedly an Arya who was with them, they manage to defeat most of those besieging the gates before ordering the Unsullied commander to create a protective barrier so the survivors could take shelter inside. Jon practically had to pull Arya and lift her onto his horse to force her into the castle with him. She whined and kicked but he still managed to get her inside.
Once inside, he ordered the gates to be closed again before going up to the walls so that he could see for himself the state of the battle. Although they had disposed of a large portion of the army of the dead, they had also lost almost half of their army. Jon knew that this was not good for them, the Night King only had to raise his hands and their numbers would be back intact, they would not win the war this way, they only had one chance and that was to slay the Night King. Lifting his gaze to the heavens again, he determined that he had no choice but to call Rhaegal and hope that together with Daenerys they could both slay him on his dragon. But before he could give a concrete order about anything, he saw something appear from the clouds, a huge figure began to descend upon them accompanied by a loud roar, his first thought was that it was Daenerys, but the closer he got at an incredible speed, he could distinguish it better, especially the rider he was carrying.
And before he could process it, he saw Viserion open his mouth to release his incandescent blue flames, Jon barely had time to shout to everyone.
“Take cover!”
Grabbing Arya, he pushed her out of the way before the dragon descended with lightning speed and unleashed its flames upon the castle and its men, destroying the gates of Winterfell in the process and wreaking great havoc. Like him many were able to dodge the attack, but also many were not so fortunate falling under the dragon's flames and turning to dust in a matter of seconds.
Rising up, he followed the Night King's dragon with his eyes, who quickly turned around and flew towards them again, but this time he was stopped when Drogon descended above him, the black dragon used his gigantic and much heavier body to knock the smaller dragon down, both dragons plummeted to hit the ground hard, just outside Winterfell.
Unfortunately, Jon didn't even have time to worry about Daenerys as with the gates of Winterfell now destroyed, the wights took the opportunity to charge into the castle, drawing his sword, Jon shouted at the top of his lungs.
“To arms! Defend the castle!”
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Brienne drove her sword through numerous of these undead creatures, but each time she killed one two more appeared to take their place. The waves of undead soldiers seemed endless now that the gates had been breached. She was ready to take on the next one, but in the midst of the fray she felt a chill run down her spine, as if all the torches were extinguished and only the cold of the night remained. Looking up she saw one of those creatures approaching, but this one was different from the rest, it wore black armor, its skin was made of ice and its hair was white, its eyes glowed an inhuman frosty blue. She had never seen them in person, but she had no doubt that this one was a white walker, she saw it pierce through several men with ease, penetrating their armor like butter with its ice spear.
Raising her sword and filling herself with courage, she jumped forward to face him, as soon as they crossed swords, she realized that this one was not like the others. He was much faster and stronger, she had to try her best if she wanted to defeat him and she knew it would not be easy. She screamed and smashed her sword against him again, she had always been strong, stronger than most of the men she had faced, managing to overcome them with raw strength.
But she quickly realized that she could not do the same with this creature, it was as strong or stronger than her, every time she tried to push her sword against it felt like trying to split a log with her sword, it just wouldn't budge. She also noticed that unlike the wights this creature was not simply a mindless soldier who simply obeyed a single order which was to kill. Behind those glowing blue eyes there seemed to be a conscience, taking a much more technical stance that she hoped would give her the advantage.
She waited for him to come to her this time, mentally preparing herself she repeated to herself surely, that she would defend this castle. She would defend her lady; this time she would not fail. Then, the walker charged towards her.
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Daenerys shook herself and tried to pull herself together quickly from the hard fall. Viserion had taken advantage of his speed, he had attacked Winterfell before she could reach him. Fortunately, she was able to catch him before he attacked a second time, she hoped Jon and the others were alright. Although the castle didn't look so good, unfortunately she couldn't stop and go help them, she had to take care of Viserion once and for all.
He was too dangerous and too strong a weapon for the Night King to use against them. Speaking of the Night King he seemed to have vanished after the fall, but she couldn't go looking for him anyway, she had to kill Viserion here and now. Unfortunately accepting the fact of what she had to do didn't make it any easier, having this new version of her son in front of her only made her heart ache. She still remembered how his scales glowed golden every time the sun reflected against them; she remembered the way he clung to her until he became so big that she could no longer carry him. It always made her remember the time when Viserys was a good brother to her, when he cared for her and told her stories about his family. Viserion had always represented that side of Viserys, but now that Viserion was dead. His scales were dark now, his flesh seemed to decay with the minute and his face was ravaged by the wounds inflicted by Drogon.
She hated the Night King for what he had done to the gentlest of her children and now she only wished to give him the rest and peace that Viserion deserved. Unfortunately, both Drogon and she were so focused on the dragon in front of them that they did not notice the swarm of wights that quickly began to surround them and began to climb over Drogon like bugs, using their blades and weapons to repeatedly stab at her dragon. Drogon groaned in pain and began to shake violently, spreading his wings and taking flight, Daenerys could not hold on to her son's movements and ended up falling from her mount.
Drogon desperate to get rid of the wight took flight while continuing to shake the body, leaving her behind completely helpless before the dead dragon. Viserion opened his great jaws, blue fire formed from inside his throat all the way to his mouth and just as he was about to bathe her in the flames. Rhaegal shot out of the forest and knocked him down making him miss his attack, before he could hit her. The still badly wounded Rhaegal bravely faced Viserion giving her time to escape as the two collided violently.
Daenerys unsheathed Icehart and didn't have to wait long before she had to use it, as several wights quickly rushed towards her. Using the moves Arya had taught her, she was able to dispose of them easily, and it wasn't long before her faithful protector Ser Jorah was the first to approach her. With a nod they joined back-to-back to cover each other, both were ready to face the group of running wights, but were surprised to see them stop abruptly.
Interrogated by the creatures' actions, they suddenly stopped in their attack. But they understood what it was all about when a white walker appeared in sight, the dreadful icy creature slowly approached them, unsheathing its frozen sword in the process. This time, Jorah stepped forward and stood much more protectively in front of her. Seeing the monster approaching them, she was grateful for that and began to pray that Jon would be able to kill the Night King as soon as possible.
She didn't know if she and her old knight could be capable enough to defeat one of those monsters on their own.
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After taking down several wights that were trying to climb the walls, Jon turned to his side to watch Arya do the same, he didn't like that she was in the middle of the fray, but he couldn't deny how effective she was in the fight. Giving himself some time to look around and analyze the situation, the castle was a ruin, the defenses had been completely overwhelmed and the wights kept coming in, either through the now destroyed gates or by scaling the walls.
The worst thing was that they had lost their greatest advantage which were the dragons, he had seen the Night King fall along with Daenerys. Fortunately, he had decided to send Rhaegal to support her, the moment he saw Drogon being boarded by multiple wights. Now his dragon was trying to restrain Viserion, but he knew that like them, Rhaegal would not hold out for long, he was still extremely wounded and he knew that the reanimated creatures felt no fatigue or pain.
“Jon, time is running out, we need to make our move now. You need to kill the Night King or we are all doomed.”
He was startled when he heard a voice in his head, but he could easily recognize it.
“Bran, is that you? How the fuck...? No, forget it, just tell me where he is and I'll kill him myself.”
“I'm afraid you won't be able to kill him in your current state, you need to receive R’hllor blessing and forge Lightbringer, it's the only way.” His brother insisted with his plan, something that made him angry.
“We've been over this; I'm not going to sacrifice Daenerys for victory. So, if you're not going to do me any good, get out of my head.”
He assumed his brother had heeded him as he didn't hear his voice again, Jon returned to the fray. He would win this his way and by the end, both he and Daenerys would survive, he had promised himself. And this time, he would go to great lengths to keep his promise.
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“If he does not complete the ritual and forge the legendary sword, lightbringer will never be able to defeat the champion of the Great Other.” Priestess Kinvara expressed with deep concern.
“We can't force him to run his sword through his wife, can we?” Bran answered her with a blank expression. “I fear Sansa was right, we will never convince Jon to sacrifice Daenerys in exchange for victory, but don't worry, we still have a chance.”
Kinvara breathed a little relieved to hear that, they were both sheltered in the gods wood, guarded by a small contingent of R’hllor temple soldiers that Kinvara had brought along with her from Essos.
“Well, then I suggest you use whatever strategy you have now, the longer the battle goes on, the less are our chances of winning. Time is running against us.”
Bran focused again, this time to get into the mind of the person he needed right now and tell them what they needed to know, but sensing a dangerous presence approaching them, Bran returned to his own mind before raising his gaze to the shadows deep in the gods wood and saying heavily.
“I think our time is up, he's here.”
The red priestess followed his gaze and could see what he was referring to. Revealing himself from the shadows, there stood the Night King. His cold, glowing gaze focused on the follower of R'hllor and the three-eyed raven, two of the three targets he had to kill, together in one place.
As Kinvara watched the champion of her Lord's greatest enemy, she instinctively stepped back. With each step the Night King took towards them, she could feel the heat around her shrinking and the cold drowning out every warm feeling, bravely her soldiers positioned themselves between them and the hideous monster. But she knew there was not much they could do; it would only be a matter of time before the Night King would make his way through them.
But despite the fear she felt, Kinvara would not try to escape, she trusted her Lord and the champion he had chosen, she would trust until the end. Her faith would not waver, there was a reason why she was here, why she had been chosen, she was ready to face her destiny. She stood still as she watched the combat unfold, as she suspected her men didn't stand a chance, they were dispatched one by one like flies by the champion of the Great Other, his strength and power surpassed that of any mortal man. No ordinary man was a match for him, but when they least expected it a figure as swift and silent as a cat appeared from the shadows and pounced upon the Night King without any fear.
And despite how silent and fast she was, attacking a blind spot of his enemy, the Night King could notice her presence and turned in time to catch her. Stopping her hand in which she held her Valyrian steel blade, which was only a centimeter away from stabbing into his eye. Arya hoped she could have defeated him, but somehow the Night King beat her ambush, now she was trapped being held by the throat and arm, she tried to break free from his grip, but it was useless, he was too strong. So, if she could not break free with strength, she had to do it using her brain and thinking she came up with a brilliant and ingenious maneuver, releasing her blade and dropping it, she caught it with her free hand and this time with no time to react, the Night King could not dodge her attack this time, plunging her knife deep into his abdomen.
Arya watched as for the first time the frozen bastard showed pain, recoiling and releasing her on the spot, but unlike what she thought, the monster did not explode into thousands of little pieces as the rest of the walkers and their soldiers did. On the contrary, it only took the Night King a couple of seconds to pull himself together, grabbing the handle of the knife and pulling it out of him before tossing it aside. Focusing his furious gaze on her, Arya prepared to defend herself, drawing her sword Needle, as she had unfortunately lost her new weapon in the battle of Winterfell.
But she could never be prepared for what followed, the Night King was upon her in the blink of an eye, his speed was something she had not faced before, it was a miracle she was able to dodge the first blow, but he did not give her a single moment to breathe. As more attacks followed, which seemed to get faster and faster, the only reason she was alive was because of her small and agile frame and the arduous training they put her through making her practically the most agile sneaky person in the seven Kingdoms. If it wasn't for that she was sure she wouldn't have been able to dodge all the attacks, but she knew she couldn't keep dodging attacks forever.
That's why despite the endless barrage of blows she kept trying to find an opening to counterattack, but could not find any. The Night King did not leave her any opening to explode, and it was only a matter of time before he ended up connecting a blow and that happened when he decided to attack her lower area, cutting her inner thigh making her stumble backwards. Despite the pain she managed to roll to the side, dodging the ice spear that dug into the ground where it used to be a second before, but the Night King continued advancing threateningly towards her. This time Arya tried to attack, but they were desperate attacks without any force behind them.
The Night King dismissed her attacks as if they were the clumsy efforts of a desperate child, easily holding his sword Needle with his bare hands and wielding the weapon with ease before wrenching it away and tossing it aside. Arya tried to crawl backwards, but he prevented it when he pressed his foot down on hers, so hard she felt him break it. Arya screamed in pain as she continued to try to escape, but it was in vain, she was completely at his mercy. The Night King raised his spear once more, he took his time to savor the moment in killing the person who had managed to inflict harm on him, but before he could lower the weapon and end her life, he was once again interrupted.
Turning back, he blocked an attack this time it was not a dagger, but a much larger sword and the one holding it was someone much bigger and stronger than Arya. Looking over the Night King's shoulder she could see Jon, pushing the Night King away from her with all his might as he said with hatred and rage.
“Get the fuck away from my sister!”
Her brother managed to strike the Night King away from her, causing him to focus on him. Arya watched the fight and although Jon motivated by rage and anger moved very quickly and was striking with incredible force, she could see that he was still no match for the Night King. For after each attack he seemed to lose strength and ground on the other side, the Night King seemed unfazed, slowly moving from defensive to attack making Jon have to focus more on staying alive than actually defeating him.
“He won't be able to defeat him, not without Lightbringer.”
Unexpectedly Arya heard Bran's voice whisper to her in the back of her mind, turning to where he was, she saw him in the distance sitting in his chair staring at her.
“He will never kill Daenerys.” She answered him.
“No, he won't and even if he did, she is nowhere near, but there is another alternative. Azor Ahai did not forge Lightbringer because he specifically killed his wife, he did it out of sacrificing what he loved most and, in his case, it was his wife, but in Jon's case. He doesn't just love Daenerys, there is someone else.”
After hearing him say those words, Arya feels like she was transported deep into her mind, she suddenly finds herself staring at a very familiar ceiling, one that she feels like she has seen hundreds of times before. It took her a few seconds to realize she was back in Winterfell, but everything felt different, she felt calm and safe, as if all was well and any trace of war or pain did not exist. She tried to move or speak, but was unable to do so and when suddenly she felt someone carrying and moving her, she tried to fight it, but quickly calmed down when she saw who it was.
Although she had never seen him like this before, she could easily recognize him, it was Jon, as a very young boy, but it was him. His long curls and deep gray eyes gave him away. She tried to speak to him, but only a soundless, childish babble came out of her mouth. Jon flashed her a tender smile as he saw her efforts to try to communicate before telling her.
“Hello, I am your brother, my name is Jon and I heard yours was Arya.” Glancing to his sides nervously he confessed to her. “I'm not supposed to be here, your mother doesn't usually let me see the babies, she wouldn't let me see Sansa or Bran when they were first born, but when I heard you looked like me, I had to see it with my own eyes.” Reaching out his hand to her, Arya instinctively did the same and captured one of his fingers with her chubby, clumsy hands. Jon smiled happily at her action, looking at her as the most precious object in the world. “I will take care of you, I promise. I won't let anyone or anything hurt you, ever. Your big brother will watch over you, always."
After hearing such a promise for the first time Arya was transported back to another memory, now she was in the crypts of Winterfell. Entering them without fear, despite only having only six named days, after all she was on a mission. She was looking for someone and it didn't take her long to find him. Somehow, he always found a way to take refuge under the statue of Aunt Lyanna, he never wanted to show his weaker side to anyone, she was an exception.
Speechless, she walked over to Jon and wiped away the shed tears before staring at him and saying in a firm tone.
“No, no crying.”
Sitting down next to him, she leaned into him and then added.
“You are my brother; I don't care what anyone else says. You will always be my brother.”
After that, Arya recalled several memories she had shared with Jon, from when he had violently beaten a stable boy because he had mocked her appearance when she was a child, earning himself a severe punishment from father. She remembered that the boy was much older and bigger than Jon, but that didn't stop him from beating him within an inch of his life and finally having to be pulled away from him by the adults. Jon had never been violent even when people mocked him for his status as a bastard, but for her he was always willing to do anything to protect her. But not only did he protect her, he also supported her when no one else would. He proved that when he taught her archery without her father or mother knowing or when he would tell her, her favorite stories about the great warrior Queen Nymeria Martell or Visenya Targaryen, inspiring her to continue her dreams of becoming a warrior woman.
Finally, she came to what was possibly her favorite memory, it was the last one she had with him before they were separated and all the horrible things happened. When it was just the two of them in his room where he gave her, her sword 'Needle', she could relive the feeling of his warm embrace and the promise that they would meet again. Although it did end up being fulfilled, it was after many tragedies and sometimes she felt that they were no longer the same people. She wished she could really be there, be in that moment and be able to warn him of all the horrible things that awaited them and their family, she wished she never had to be separated from him, to be able to save Father, Mother, Robb and Rickon. And that together they could go for Daenerys, she was sure that if they were all together, they might have stood a chance against the army of the dead. Together they could have saved the North and Westeros, if not all of humanity. And if that wasn't possible, she at least wished she could have stayed in this moment forever, lived eternally in Jon's warm protective embrace.
“We can't live in memories, Arya. Sweet as they are.”
She opened her eyes again when she heard Bran's voice, stepping back she watched as both Jon and the room and almost everything around her slowly faded away, only she and her brother remaining.
“Why are you showing me all this?” Arya asked Bran confused by his actions.
“You've always been his favorite; you know that right? From the moment he held you when you were just a baby, until now. Nothing has changed or will change that fact.” He told her cryptically, making her feel more confused and angrier, asking her sharply.
“What does it matter now? Bran, you have to send me back, Jon needs all the help he can get.” But her brother only seemed to ignore her words.
“You two have always had a different relationship than the rest of us. He loves you, too much. Jon may be willing to sacrifice the world for Daenerys, but he'd set the world on fire for you, there's nothing he's not willing to do for you.”
“I know that!” Arya said desperately. “But none of that matters now. Jon is in trouble; we must save him.”
"Only you alone have the power to save him, the only way to defeat the Night King is if he manages to forge Lightbringer and become Azor Ahai. And to do that...”
“He must sacrifice what he loves most.” Arya finished for him, finally understanding her role in all this.
“I hate that it has to be this way, but you are the only one who can convince him to do what must be done to save the world. In order to gain the power to defeat the greatest evil of all, Jon must kill you.”
Arya felt a tear spilling down her cheek, she felt anger, sadness, helplessness and rage, she hated this and expressed it by saying.
“It's not fair.”
“No, it isn't. But it's the only way.”
Letting out a humorless snort, Arya said, a wry smile forming on her face.
"I always knew he was special; I hated the fact that because of people he could never see his true potential and saw no choice but to join The Wall. I hated that his name was different from ours, when in reality he was always one of us. I hated that we had to part ways, and now... just when we met again.”
Arya looked back to where before was the memory of her and Jon, of the last time they held each other, she wished she had held him longer. Wiping away her tears and turning to Bran, she said.
“Send me back.”
---------
Back on the battlefield, Arya could see Jon who now appeared to be covered in wounds and badly bleeding, struggling to stand and not succumb to the Night King's onslaught. Straining to get up, she begins to crawl towards him, fortunately Bran knew what to do to buy them time and ordered the few remaining R'hllor soldiers to interfere and buy them some time with the Night King.
“Jon!” She strains to shout, causing her brother to turn to her seeing her approach, but he only shouts back.
“Arya, get away from here. I'll take care of this.”
“You can't, you big stubborn fool, he'll kill you.” She replied with a tired and exhausted smile. To which her brother with a serious and reluctant expression replied.
“Still, I have to do it.”
Finally reaching him, she put her arms around his shoulders, preventing him from returning to the fight before he had a chance to listen to her.
“You have to become that stupid prophecy hero that the red woman and Bran talk so much about so you can save the day.”
“I'm not going to kill Daenerys.” He stubbornly says again, tired of having to repeat himself, but is surprised when Arya tells him.
“You don't have to kill Daenerys, there is someone else you can use as a sacrifice.”
Arya's expression was all he needed to realize who she was talking about.
“No, I won't.” He said quickly, shaking his head. But holding his face and making him look at her, Arya told him firmly.
“You have to do it.”
“No, Arya. I'm not going to kill yo-"
Jon wasn't even able to finish the sentence before he tried to get up and try to face the Night King again, but taking advantage of his weakened and injured state, Arya was able to stop him and make him stay beside her.
“You know, I never told you this, but you were always my hero. Robb, Sansa, Bran, Mother or even Father, none of them understood me, no one supported me or believed in me, only you. I always wished I was a bastard too, not having to live up to the expectations of a refined Lady and being able to go with you, we could have had many adventures together all over the seven Kingdoms or even Essos, it would have just been the two of us against the world, as it has always been. But now, you have to be everyone's hero.”
Arya took his hand and made him tighten his grip on his sword. Stepping closer to him, her face only an inch from his and the blade of her sword pointed directly at his heart she said.
“Save them all, Jon. Only you can do it, I believe in you. I love you; I always have.”
Finishing leaning towards him, she gave him a fleeting kiss on the lips as she took his arm and pulled him towards her, piercing her own chest and making her let out a choked gasp, but it wasn't deep enough to pierce her own heart, yet. Pulling away from her lips, Jon let out a cry full of pain and sadness before forcing his own hand and finishing piercing his sword into her. Finally piercing her heart with the cold steel and the moment he did, the skies split open.
Breaking through the thick dark clouds and even through the night itself. The sun showed itself as it had never done in the north, huge and resplendent, illuminating the entire battlefield with a blinding, incandescent glow, completely blinding everyone. Especially the wights who could not stand its light and began to retreat.
Kinvara could not resist the urge to get down on her knees as she watched what had just happened, saying with great ecstasy and emotion.
“He is here, after eight thousand years. He has returned.”
Bran also watched the scene in awe, he saw how a great spiral of light began to surround both Jon and Arya to finally focus on Jon's sword, causing it to begin to glow brighter and brighter. But not in the same way as the other followers of R'hllor, this was not a flaming sword, this was a sword made of light. When all the light finally seemed to have entered the sword, everything seemed to end the same way it began. Though now the skies were divided, between day and night, on one side the sun shone brightly while the other was still shrouded in darkness and storm.
Bran saw Jon finally begin to move, holding his sister's body with one hand while holding his sword with the other. He began to slowly and carefully withdraw his sword from Arya's body. Finishing pulling it out of her body, he thrust it deep into the ground and carried Arya with both hands before starting to walk towards them. Finally reaching them, Jon placed Arya's body gently on the ground before removing his cloak and using it to rest her head. Bran took the moment to analyze him and although it seemed that superficially he did not seem to have changed much, looking at him more closely he could tell that he was no longer the same.
To begin with, all the wounds he had suffered in his fight with the Night King had been completely healed. Even the scars that he had had quite some time ago like the ones he had gotten from the eagle's attack were gone, or rather they had healed completely without leaving any trace behind. He could also feel an intense heat radiating from him, but what undoubtedly stood out the most were his eyes. Where before they were a stormy gray, they now glowed an intense red, as if they could reflect the fire that radiated within him.
Jon took Arya's hands, giving them a final squeeze before finally standing up, but his gaze remained on Arya and he could not see the presence looming behind him.
“Jon, watch out-”
Bran tried desperately to warn him in the face of imminent danger, but it was no use, as his brother caught the white walker's spear before it could strike him, but the impressive thing was that he did it only using one hand. Both the walker and the others were surprised and stunned to see this, quickly the frozen demon tried to withdraw his spear and attack again, but he could not move it from Jon's grip no matter how hard he tried. And before he could try anything else, Jon literally immobilized him by holding his head with his other hand before applying pressure, the walker tried to fight back, but to no avail. In just a few seconds he heard the ice begin to crack until finally his head exploded into several pieces and his body followed shortly after. It was the first time Bran saw something like that, a walker being defeated with simple brute force.
After defeating the walker, Jon checked his hand with which he had stopped the spear and noticed how the wound was already starting to heal, smoking slightly as the wound disappeared completely, leaving his skin intact. Raising his gaze to his true enemy, Jon watched as it flashed him a ghoulish grin, seeming excited to fight him before he began to slowly walk towards him, slashing his sharp ice spear against the ground.
Jon would do the same and began to walk forward towards him, grabbing his sword halfway, holding it firmly and lifting it up from where he had stuck it, feeling the power flow through it. Both fighters met in the middle of the gods wood, raised their weapons, planted their feet firmly and swung their weapons powerfully against each other, ice and steel met in the middle. The impact was so powerful that it created a small ripple and the sound produced by the clash could be heard several meters away, but that was only the beginning.
Both retreated and attacked again, both moved at super human speed, their blows were strong enough to split a man in full armor in half, but neither seemed to yield to the other. But now that they were on equal footing in both strength and speed, the determining factor became each man's skill as a warrior and swordsman, and Jon was clearly superior in that regard. So, catching the Night King off guard, Jon feinted and managed to trick him into thinking he would attack him with his sword, but instead, Jon used his head, literally. The collision was violent and managed to break his balance and taking advantage of the moment, Jon held him by the arm and returned to give him a second headbutt, causing small pieces of ice to break off from the force of the impact, he also felt his own head pulsate and blood begin to spill from his forehead, but he ignored it in favor of charging towards his enemy.
Attacking his lower body, Jon managed to trip him up before raising his sword and bringing it down hard towards him with every intention of thrusting it right into his chest, but before it could impact with him, the Night King managed to catch it and parry it with his hands. Jon did not give up and using his high ground continued to push, managing to push her further and further until he was about to stab her icy skin, but before he could do so he was interrupted when he heard a loud roar and barely managed to dodge and roll to his side as Viserion lunged towards him.
Jon watched the dragon land next to his new master, the Night King pulled himself together and got back to his feet before smiling victoriously at him. Jon gritted his teeth and even more clenched the hilt of his sword, as he checked his connection to Rhaegal, he was slightly relieved to find that he was still alive, but too badly wounded to continue fighting or even move. Seeing no other alternative, he raised his sword again more than ready to face both rider and dragon, but fortunately he didn't have to do it alone. For a few moments later, Drogon landed heavily at his side, and this time it was he who allowed himself a smile as he saw how things evened out. But this small sense of victory quickly died when he saw the Night King begin to raise his hands, and a second later what he feared most happened.
The R'hllor soldiers lying dead around him abruptly opened their eyes and began to rise, but this time as slaves and followers of the Night's King. Turning his gaze to Winterfell he assumed that the same thing had happened there, he did not have much time. So, he charged with a shout towards the Night King and Drogon followed close behind with a loud roar, crashing into Viserion as he faced the reanimated soldiers who stepped forward to protect their new master, Jon managed to dispatch them quickly, but it seemed that the Night King had also ordered Viserion to attack him. Since he seemed to ignore Drogon as much as the latter tried to restrain him out of his way, the reanimated dragon preferred to throw his flames at him rather than try to get the black dragon off his back.
Fortunately, Drogon did a good job and managed to keep Viserion away from him, pulling and throwing him hard backwards. After finishing off the reanimated soldiers, he turned his attention back to the Night King, he had to finish him off as soon as possible, they all depended on him. When they clashed swords again, it seemed that the Night King had learned and didn't fall for the same trick twice, concentrating more on defending himself from their attacks than going on the offensive. The bastard knew very well that he was up against the clock. So, he left Jon no choice but to sacrifice his defense completely and go on the offensive.
This cost him many cuts and blows, but he was confident that his new regeneration could keep up, but that wasn't the only reason he did it. With his new strategy he invited the Night King to attack him, and Jon just had to wait for the right moment, and he didn't have to wait long to find it. For the first time he deflected the Night King's attack, sending him upwards, leaving him completely exposed to attack, but the Night King managed to defend himself. Although, not in the best way as he had to sacrifice his right arm to stop his onslaught, Jon enjoyed watching him writhe in pain and without losing his momentum, seeing him defenseless before him. Jon did not waste the opportunity and with only one hand the Night King could not block his next attack, Jon aimed directly for his head, wanting to cut it with a single slash.
But unfortunately, he couldn't make it, as the Night King used his other hand to stop the impact, Jon didn't stop anyway, he continued to exert pressure, he had to kill him here and now, he wouldn't have a better chance. Seeing himself cornered the Night King let out a thunderous and unnatural scream, it was so loud he felt his eardrums rumble, but he didn't relinquish his grip on his sword anyway, and continued to exert pressure determined to cut off his head once and for all.
But his attention wavered for a second when he heard numerous grunts and footsteps begin to approach him, turning his head he could see dozens of wights running towards them.
The fucking coward had called his army to save him.
Still Jon would not relinquish his grip and fortunately, Drogon was there and could bathe them in his flames. At least until Viserion took the opportunity to attack him, trying to break out of his grip, but the great black dragon remained reluctant. But with his attack he had created precious seconds for him anyway which he would not waste, turning to the Night King he said.
“They will not be able to save you.”
And although the wights failed to save him, they managed to distract him and that was something the Night King had taken advantage of. For without realizing it, he had turned the stump of his hand into a sharp improvised spear and thrust it deep into his abdomen. The wound quickly began to smoke, trying to heal itself, but with his hand still embedded there, it could not do so. The Night King had done it on purpose so that he would be forced to let him go, but Jon would not.
Despite the pain and the fact that he was beginning to bleed out, Jon held his ground, continuing to push his sword against his neck, determined to cut off his head. The Night King tried to pull his hand back to escape, but Jon held it firmly with his other hand, preventing him from pulling back as he exerted more force on his sword.
Increasingly desperate, the Night King shouted again, calling for his undead slaves to come to his aid, but this time his undead soldiers were not the only ones to come. For he could see what was left of his forces come to his support as well and create a protective shield around him composed of Unsullied, Dothraki, Vale knights, Northerners, Southern soldiers and he could even see Daenerys standing next to Ser Jorah.
She turned in time to give him a nod before turning her attention back to the enemy. Being able to see firsthand what he was fighting for was all she needed to put an end to the Night King once and for all. Making a last-ditch effort, he thrust his blazing sword and finally pierced the Night King's frozen hard skin, making him shriek in pain. The wights desperately trying to reach their master were able to break through the defensive circle and climbed onto it. Beginning to claw, bite and stab him, they tried to force his arm with the one holding his sword, but none of that would budge him, not when he was so close. In his final moments, Jon could finally see emotion reflected in the Night King's eyes, fear filled him and that put a smile on his face. Bringing his face close to his, he said.
“You will never win, no matter how many times you come back or what form you take. I will always be there to stop you and return you to the depths of the seven hells.”
With a last scream full of fury and pain, Jon finally managed to pierce his neck and separate it from his body. As his head flew off, the rest of his body fell to its knees before exploding into thousands of pieces and the rest of his army followed soon after. They all became nothing more than scraps of bone and dust; Jon fell to his knee from exhaustion. Finally, he allowed himself to drop his sword.
He did it, he really did it, he won. He defeated the greatest threat in humankind, but he could not allow himself to feel joy or emotion. In fact, he felt nothing.
How could he? His heart had split in two and one of the halves had died. He heard his men and everyone else celebrate in victory, but he could not hold back the tears that escaped from his face. He defeated evil, but he could not protect the person he was supposed to take care of.
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