Across the easternmost sea, tens of thousands of miles of open water, the flock forged on. The snow's hue mirrored the feathers of the great white ravens. The congress had fallen from thirty to seven on their perilous flight. Each bird carried the same message to ensure its most desperate arrival. The great ocean finally gave way to rock where the waves wore upon the weaker earth, forcing chunks to break off and surrender to the mighty water. The sun peeked over the horizon and it's presence brought promise of a new day, for a deep winter had taken hold in Middle-Earth.
Gimli's braided beard brushed the palace floor as he bowed in greeting to his former Fellowship companion. "King Elessar!" He announced.
"Ahh, Gimli. There's no need for such formalities," Aragorn's laughter brought the dwarf to a roar as well. The two old friends embraced one another. Fifty years had passed, to the day, since the end of The War of the Ring. Aragorn remained strong in his greyed age, though Gimli hadn't appeared to age a day.
"Don't forget the elf." Legolas' smile broadened as he entered the room. Gimli hugged his friend as did Aragorn.
"Let us raise a toast together once more." Aragorn waved forward a server bearing a tray laden with Gondor's finest wine and goblets.
"We celebrate today, friends!" Legolas raised his glass. Aragorn and Gimli returned the toast and the three friends downed their wine.
The fields of Pelennor still bore wounds from the great battle: the scorched and trampled terrain had slowly recovered, and yet, the snowfall seemed to cleanse the earth as soon as it fell. The sole raven flapped. Its final companion had just plunged deep into the frozen earth, dead. With Osgiliath behind, the great white city lay just ahead. Under arch and over rock it darted, invisible to the people below as both snowfall and stone camouflaged the great bird upon its ascent of the seven levels. It overcame the final level of the city and fell before the White Tree of Gondor, lifeless. The Citadel Guard exclaimed in surprise when the massive bird collapsed to the stone in front of him. The bird appeared to emerge from the storm itself.
"Ahem," came a brief clearing of a throat just beneath the server's wine tray. Aragorn smiled as he glanced down. The server stepped aside to reveal two rather blustered looking halflings.
"Peregrin Took, Guard of the Citadel, Knight of Gondor and Thrain of the Shire. Meriadoc Brandybuck, Esquire of Rohan and Master of Buckland. My dear friends," Aragorn said. He crouched with a hand on the Hobbits' shoulder and hugged them.
"I brought my boy, Faramir! He very recently wed Goldilocks, Sam's daughter. I wanted him to meet his namesake, and let the good people of Gondor inform my son of his father's great acts," Pippin patted his friends and spun away in search of his son.
"Eowyn and Faramir have a son, don't they? Elboron, I think," Merry said.
"Yes, he and Eldarion are the same age. The two of them tend to remind me of you and Pip...in certain ways," Aragorn replied.
Their laughter was broken by the Citadel Guard. "My King! A raven, huge and white and- and dead! It appeared from the storm bearing a message tied upon its foot." The Guard held out a small scroll, bound in string and sealed with a snarling wolf head.
Aragorn took the scroll, then thanked and dismissed guard. Curiously, he eyed the seal and turned toward his wife.
"Arwen, could this be of the land to the west? The tales your father and Gandalf spoke of. Could it be true?"
She grabbed the scroll and studied it as well. "Perhaps. Let us search the ancient texts for an answer."
She headed toward the staircase that descended the seven levels into the heart of the city and, at last, the archives of old. Aragorn, Eomer, Faramir, Gimli, Legolas, Merry and Pippin followed behind her. In the library Gimli lit the torch that slowly spread to candles throughout the hall. The small flames brought plenty of light upon the ancient books.
"Foreign lands and their legends lie here," Arwen said. "This wolf sealed upon the scroll is an Ancient House from a far distant land. Though I cannot quite seem to place it."
She began to sift through the scrolls and books scattered across the shelves. "Here," she said at last. Dust covered the weathered leather bound pages. They tore and crunched upon opening. A lion, a three headed firedrake of sort, a large deer and there, upon the top right corner of the backside of the book, sat the great wolf. Its snarled teeth and enlarged head left no doubt: It was a match to the seal of the scroll.
"House Stark, Lords of Winterfell," Arwen read. "Look! A map!" She continued, "Its westernmost edge begins where our eastern maps end. This House Stark appears to hold a castle in the mid-north of their country of Westeros. Will you read us the scroll, Aragorn?" She asked.
"King Elessar, Your Grace," Aragorn laughed. "Your grace, eh?" He continued with the letter. "We have heard of your great kingdom and even greater warriors. We have heard of how you helped races and separate bannermen join together to defeat a common enemy. Winter has come for us here in Westeros, as it has in Middle-Earth, and with the winter comes the army of the dead and the Night King. We beg you for aid as his army marches upon what armies we have left here in Winterfell. If they make it through us, we have no doubt they will shortly be at your kingdom's door. He recently has killed and resurrected one of our Queen's three dragons and has destroyed our 700 foot wall. Please, help us. Signed, Samwell Tarly, sworn brother of the Night's Watch."
"It sounds like they need us." Legolas was the first to speak. "We can send a small group to scout this land and determine what we should do." He turned to Aragorn.
"If only we retained the services of our own dead army…" Gimli was interrupted by the King.
"No, Gimli, they fulfilled their oaths. Legolas, we shall not send a small number for if what these ancient texts hold are true, then we may already be lost. Still, we must help them rid the world of this ancient evil. We cannot hide away in our corner of the world and leave others to their doom."
Aragorn placed a hand on Eomer's shoulder and the aged King of Rohan returned his embrace. "Eomer, we need all our strength."
Eomer turned toward the door. His eighty-one years of life had long begun to weigh on his once strong bones. "Give me three days, Aragorn. We will muster the Rohirrim one final time."
Aragorn faced his friends. "Westeros has called for aid, and Middle-Earth will answer!"
"They are here," Tyrion told Jon. They made their way up the castle and onto Winterfell's northern wall. The army of the dead stretched beyond their eyesight. Hundreds of thousands of the Night King's soldiers marched upon the castle bringing with them both true winter and The Long Night.
The snow thickened and quickened its pace, falling in a fury upon what remained of Westeros armies. The Lannister velvet cloaks with Jamie at the helm held steady in their defensive position. Jamie mounted his horse and rode with Bronn to prepare for the battle that lay in wait. They rode to the rear, passing the Dothraki horde they had had the misfortune of tangling with in the not so distant past. Now uneasy allies, they faced a common enemy, death. Jamie dismounted and made his way to Greyworm, the Unsullied's fierce leader.
"Greyworm, it's time to sound the alarm...winter has truly come," Jamie said.
"I will pass the word," He answered. With a swift nod of the head, he sent them to Khaleesi and Jon.
Blue fire pierced the clouds and snowfall. The sudden brightness and the roar of Viserion caused Daenerys to snap her head up. The Night King soared high above his army. He seemed to taunt her with Viserion to remind her of his power. Her blood warmed and she could feel the Targaeryn rage build inside her, for he had killed one of her children and now boasted Viserion as his greatest trophy.
"Drogon, Rhaegal." Daenerys summoned her children. Drogon's ebony tinted scales glistened through the contrasting snowfall. He lowered his massive head to accommodate his mother.The soft rumble of Drogon's growl nearly mimicked the purr of a large cat as it escaped his throat. His smaller brother, Rhaegal, shook loose the fallen snow from his plated emerald hide. Rhaegal lay himself completely flat and cocked his head in his mother's direction. "Let us free your brother from this wretched evil." Daenerys turned to mount Drogon. Tyrion grabbed her arm and with a careful, even tone he spoke to his Queen. "Khaleesi, they must come to us. We have a solid battle plan in place and we cannot risk losing you or either of your dragons," Tyrion sighed. "I don't want to lose you."
"We have what, near a hundred thousand men? The best fighters in the realm have come together to defeat this evil! I cannot sit idle while they die," Daenerys replied. The fire in her eyes reminded Tyrion of their conversation on Dragonstone. Daenerys had ignored his counsel then and decided to burn alive the Tarly men who refused to bend the knee.
"No one is asking that of you, my Queen. We need only patience and luck for our plan to work," Tyrion gulped the last of his wine and refilled his cup. "Besides, you aren't the final Targaeryn! You now have family and a future."
"We will have nothing if this Night King isn't destroyed!" She snapped.
"Dany," Jon entered the room. "It will soon begin and we must be absolutely ready. Tyrion, you have command of Winterfell." Jon grabbed Daenerys' hand and led her down to the ladder to descend the wall.
"Well, Pod, it seems I have a castle after all. Though, I'd like to keep it more than a fucking day," Tyrion said. He peered through the snow and could just barely make out the shape of a giant mounted atop a mammoth. Tyrion swallowed hard.
"My lord, it appears we are outnumbered," Podrick announced.
"Thank you, Pod, for the astute observation. Shall you tell me next I'll need a coat for this snow?" He laughed and turned to Podrick. "Let us enjoy our final night on this good earth!"
A low rumble began and the castle walls convulsed as if there were an earthquake tearing below the earth. The Night King had begun his assault. Arya twirled Needle to keep her blood warm just inside the northern wall. Gendry, Brienne, the Hound and herself were to hold the inner gate. The four of them had eagerly volunteered when Jon called for volunteers to be the final shield between the wights and those who cannot defend themselves. Jon was glad to know Arya would remain within the castle walls.
"About fucking time," The Hound snarled. He slammed the now empty cup of wine and rose to his feet. "I've run from death long enough. I saw its ugly face north of The Wall. So let's fucking get this over with already."
"Death has many faces," Arya smiled. "You wouldn't know Death if you saw Him."
Gendry smoothly handled his hammer as he flipped it around his arms. His boyish smile faded at the realization The Hound was staring daggers into him. "You like that, eh?" Gendry's sarcasm unhidden.
The Hound kept eye contact with Gendry as he chugged his cup of wine and wiped his mouth.
"You think twirling that hammer is going to be fun and games, boy? Did the steel you hit ever hit you back?" The Hound scoffed at Gendry. "We will all die tonight."
Brienne of Tarth unsheathed her sword, Oathkeeper, then spoke. "He is right. We are all going to meet death sooner or later. Why shouldn't it be for something we bloody believe in? Gendry, are you truly ready for battle?" She asked.
"Born ready, ma'am." Gendry strongly slung his hammer over his shoulders and hung both arms over it. His muscles bulged at the seams of the cloak he had borrowed from Ser Davos. "Let them come." He said with a confident smile.
Jamie raised his sword as he remounted and rode to the head of his army. Bronn remained at his side. The Lannister army raised their swords and let out a fierce yell followed by the Unsullied and Dothraki. The Northmen were scattered atop Winterfell's walls. All of them ready to defend their homes with their lives. The Knights of the Vale had been positioned in a stagger through the forces. Jon and Jamie decided the calvary mixed with foot soldiers would keep the enemy from being able to overrun a line in the defenses. The army of the dead sprinted towards them as a wretched growl of the deceased began to tear through their ranks. Mammoths and giants began to break ahead of the wights while the polar bears and ice spiders forged ahead of their forces at an incredible speed.
"Hold! Hold the line!" Jamie shouted. "Archers! Light your arrows and wait for my command." The order could be heard echoed in Dothraki and Old Valyrian for the Unsullied.
"Ready your arrows men! Fire!" Jamie commanded. The volley of fire arrows had sizzled due to the heavy snowfall. Many of the arrows found their mark but it wasn't enough to hold back the oncoming wights. They desperately needed the fire to form a solid defense.
Bronn shot a worried look to Jamie as they both knew fire was a necessary part of their defense. Fire burst overhead. Rhaegal with Jon atop his back swooped low. His flames disintegrated the first beasts to reach their line. The Westerosi forces erupted into a cheer and Rhaegal touched down just in front of them. Jon dismounted and patted Rhaegal just before the dragon departed for his mother and brother. They remained behind the castle, which kept them out of the Night King's reach.
"It appears only dragonfire will help us in this blizzard," Jamie said. "We're going to need both of those dragons. Especially when the Night King decides to bring Viserion into the fight."
"I know. I know." Jon faced Jamie and Bronn. "What about wildfire?" Jon asked them.
"His sister saw to the last of that when she sent The Great Sept up in green flame and smoke." Bronn replied.
"As a boy I had heard rumor of there being barrels of wildfire buried deep in the Wolfswood. I figured it was just a stupid boy running his mouth. Though I suppose now would be the time to see if there's any truth to it. Take Jorah, Theon, and a few men and ride with haste. We desperately need this, Bronn. I fear dragonfire and dragonglass may not be enough to hold them," Jon's voice was tense.
"Did we ever receive word from any of the ravens Sam and Bran sent out?" Jamie asked.
"No," Jon took a deep breath. "I'm sure the letter appeared to be the writings of a mad man. Foreign people would have no way of believing us or the army of the dead. 'Grumpkins and snarks', I believe is what your brother called them." Jon drew Longclaw from its sheath and untied his belt as well as loosened his cloak. He would need to be able to move during this fight. The movements of battle and his adrenaline would keep him warmer than any amount of fur. He turned and faced the oncoming army. Then faced back towards the armies gathered together to defend Winterfell and the Realms of Men.
"We have chosen, this day, that life shall prevail! Death has come for our lands and I refuse to step aside and let them walk into our country unchecked. We have come together as men of the living, to delay death's inevitable arrival into our world. Here, together, we make our stand! We are all members of the Night's Watch now!" The roars of the armies gave Jon a new sense of hope as he looked over the men who stood with him. Former enemies and foreigners who easily could have remained in their corner of the world had come here. Houses of Old and hordes of Dothraki stood as brothers in arms. The Knights of the Vale and the Wildlings as well as the Night's Watch and even the Lannister army were all here to fight to their final breath.
The armies of Middle-Earth hastened their march to Winterfell. The castle remained less than a day's journey along the King's Road, as the raven flies. They had docked at Dragon's Point and headed inland with the Rohirrihm leading the way. Soldiers of Gondor and Rohan had once again come together. Gimli even managed to dig Dwarves out of their holes and into the fight, which was a rare practice for the Dwarven race. Only their admiration of Gimli and the possibility of new riches eventually got them aboard.
"I do hope we haven't missed the fight!" Gimli said. "My axes had begun to dull over the years."
"This may be a fight worth missing, Gimli." Legolas said to his dear friend. "This army doesn't just slay their enemy and leave the corpses for the crows. They say the Night King raises the dead to fight for him. Every death is then no longer a loss on our part but also an additional soldier for his ranks. Even Sauron did not wield such power. Ring or no Ring, he had to keep his Necromancer in the dark."
Gimli's eyes widened as Legolas spoke. "Well, laddie, I- uh- hope we make it through this one." He turned to the King. "Aragorn, this new evil cannot spread to our lands, nor theirs. It's a good thing we are here, though I wish Gandalf could bless us with his counsel. This seems a matter fit for a wizard." Gimli gazed across the tundra before them.
Aragorn smiled. "Ahh, Gandalf. I do miss him. He would have been right here with us had he foreseen this. Though, he did plenty in his time here with us. I do wish Eldarion could have met him, and dear Frodo." Aragorn glanced toward his son, riding up ahead with his sister, Isuldii, and Elboron. Ahead of them rode Eomer's son, Elfwine, the head of the Rohirrihm, as well as Elladan and Elrohir, Arwen's twin brothers. Even Faramir Took, Pippin's son and his wife Goldilocks made the journey along with Rory Brandybuck, Merry's only son. Aragorn knew better than to refuse a Hobbit their place and he also knew how useful the halflings proved to be in battle. Their enlarged and padded feet concealed the Hobbits' clever steps.
The sight of Winterfell momentarily paralyzed Legolas as his elf eyes saw penetrated the snow and into the heart of the dead army. The Night King seemed to recognize his presence and slowly turned his head towards the West. His eyes entranced Legolas, and he began to shake.
"Legolas!" Gimli shook his friend " Legolas!" Legolas blInked and looked down at the dwarf. "What did you see?" Grimli asked.
"He somehow saw me and now knows we are enroute. His numbers are beyond count Aragorn. We are marching to our graves. Perhaps this is why my kin fled our lands. Perhaps they were afraid of the coming cold and certain death. Elves' immortality can only be undone by the blade or arrow. They must have chosen the Grey Havens over a terrible end."
Aragorn helped Legolas onto his horse. "We cannot lose hope. I will not lead these people to their deaths!" The army continued with their march to Winterfell and to aid these strangers in their most dire hour.
The White Walkers held firm in their position away from the battle with Viserion and the Night King as they watched the onslaught. The Wights had finally made their way to the front lines of Winterfell's defenses. On the battlefield, Jon and Jamie held the line with the Lannister men, though Jon had lost his mount and was fighting afoot. The fire-less arrows still managed to bring down a good number of the Wights and their beasts before they could reach the line.
"We can't have a fire wall with no fire!" Jamie yelled. He remained mounted and, though blood ran the length of his left arm and dripped from his fingertips, his hand held his sword decently enough.
"I know! We need the wildfire! We just have to hold until then!" Jon called above the din of battle. He thrust Longclaw into a Wight's head just as it leapt for Jamie's horse. The pile of bones smashed to the ground.
"We need more men!" Jamie cried out in frustrated desperation.
The Unsullied rushed to join the front lines with Greyworm at the head of the counter. "Go now!" He waved them onward. A shield wall quickly formed around Jon and Jamie as the Unsullied locked shields with only room for their spearheads to pierce the enemy. They held the line just long enough for Jamie to pull Jon onto his horse. They fell back off the front line and into the castle. Arya was the first to her feet. She rushed over to Jon.
"We just have to hold until we can get the wildfire," Jon said. He dismounted and headed toward Danyerys and the dragons.
"Where are you going?" Arya demanded.
"To buy us some time," He snapped. "Arya, do not let them through that gate! You four are the last defense between them and those who cannot fight. Sansa and Bran and the children and women are all in the chambers. This is our home and I will not lose it again."
Without a backward glance, Jon departed. Arya began to follow.
Jamie simply made his way to the gate.
"Wait. Arya!" Brienne called after her. "We must hold the gate."
Arya sighed. She knew Brienne was right, but she wanted to fight for her home and friends. All of her training had lead to this moment in her life. Reluctantly, she remained inside the gate as Jamie returned to the field of battle. He disappeared into the snow before the gate had even closed.
Tyrion and Podrick dove to the ground as the force of Rhaegal and Drogon overhead stirred the winds.
"What the bloody hell?! It's too soon! What are they- oh. Fucking Targaeryns," Tyrion sighed.
Aragorn overlooked the ruined castle ahead. Its black walls were blanketed in white as the snow pounded the earth. It was surrounded by the enemy as fire and ash arose from the field and castle alike. He studied the situation, carefully plotting their movements.
"Men of Middle-Earth! We do not have to be here. We did not have to come thousands of miles to this foreign land to help these strangers and yet here we are. We have overthrown our own evils, and yet there remains a darker force than we could have imagined. That is why we have come together on this day! I know it appears the forces of darkness have a deep hold of all that is good, but I do not accept that end! Not for yourselves but for the good of the world, I ask you to draw swords and meet death with song and smile! To Winterfell!" Aragorn drew Anduril and raised it above his head. "Elendil!" He shouted. The armies let loose their horns of war filling the air with their trumpeting, drowning out the battle raging below them, and followed their King.
"Yes!" Gimli yelled. "Come, Legolas. My axe is eager to outscore you."
"May the best elf win," Legolas replied with a grim smile.