Sorry for the longer wait everyone, a little mixture of writer's block, Hayfever and personal life can screw around with writing up new chapters. Hopefully this one will please along with the next chapter. The way things are looking it will be this chapter, maybe one or two more and then we will finally be at the battle for Winterfell. As for this being a long build-up, I should hope so…I do want the tension to be so thick you could cut it with a knife.
I do want to actually satisfy my readers with something D&D flat out refused to give. A satisfying ending to the story of Ice and Fire. Also, as always, I thank you for the continued support, the views the reviews, everything…you guys have no idea how much this story and your subsequent support have helped me get over that shite ending.
Now, enough of me blabbing and let's get on with the show! Without further ado
Chapter 10: A Promise
Steel met steel in a furious clash; the clang of metal impacting upon metal echoing through the courtyard. Many of the Northern, Southern and Essosi forces were gathered and all looked wide eyed as the two men in question sparred.
Sandor Clegane, the Hound. Widely accepted as one of the greatest fighters alive, a man that even Jamie would admit he would have trouble with in his prime. Wielding a blunt training longsword with sweat dripping from his forehead. His opponent?
Jon Snow, the recently revealed heir to the Iron Throne.
Sandor wanted to see just how good the Lord of Winterfell was with a sword; and so far, he was not disappointed.
In fact, he was shocked to the core just how good the Bastard Lord was.
Jon fought with a grace and agility that Sandor rarely saw in his opponents, he was quick and fast and knew when to save his strength and stamina; both of which he had an abundance of. Of course, in the brute strength department Sandor had barely any equals, the only ones coming to mind being his brother Gregor and Lyle Crakhall; both of which he beat in speed.
But Jon's strength was a different type of strength. He didn't use his strength the same way Sandor did; taking quick jabs and swings to throw his opponent off balance and create new openings in their defences.
Sandor was also surprised by the ferocity Jon fought with; very few men could hold a candle to the Hound's skill with a blade, and even fewer could match his ferocity. But the fire in Jon's eyes was not the ferocity of a Hound, nor even the ferocity of a Wolf.
He fought with the ferocity of a Dragon.
All the elite fighters gathered watched intently; fascinated with how Jon fought. His fighting style a perfect mix of honed skill and improvisation. Jamie had to admit; the way Jon handled his blade reminded him of a younger Barristan Selmy, and even Arthur Dayne with the way his sword seemed to become part of him.
It was beautiful in a way.
Brienne watched and admired the young Wolf's footwork and the way he didn't waste movements, Jorah watched with envy at the insane amount of Stamina he moved with. Arya smiled; impressed with his water-like movements. Grey Worm nodded to himself with approval at the power behind Jon's strikes. Qhono watched with a glare as he realized the skill behind Jon's swordplay and the agility, he showed in evading the Hound's strikes. Tormund smiled with pride at Jon's improvised attacks, no doubt picked up from his time with the Free Folk.
But up in the rafters; her hands on the railings and Ghost sat at her side; Daenerys watched with awe at the skill of the man she loved. Dany had to admit, seeing the ferocity with how Jon handled his blade, with how he moved with grace and how his well-defined and toned physique moved beneath his leather gambeson.
It lit a different sort of fire within the Dragon Queen.
"He is quite good with blade, is he not your grace?" Missandei asked Daenerys from beside her.
"He is…quite spectacular" Dany smiled down as Jon moved with a grace few Knights could muster.
"Lord Snow is the best swordsman in the North" the young girl Uma spoke out from beside Missandei.
Dany had met the two young orphans earlier today; and needless to say, she was delighted to meet them. Jory and Uma were such sweet and lovable little ones; she was glad to see they had taken to Missandei so well, to the point where it seemed they looked up to her like an adoptive mother of sorts. Uma tended to stick close to Missandei as she was now; wrapped snuggly in layers of furs and side up against the translator.
While Jory seemed to stick closer to Grey Worm as he was right now; standing on the edges of the training grounds and watching Jon's match with Sandor.
"That he is Lady Uma" Dany smiled sweetly at the little girl; rubbing a palm on Ghost's head as he seemed to silently agree.
"FUCK!" Sandor cursed as Jon ducked under one swing and swept his legs from under him. The Hound wasn't expecting Jon to take advantage in the difference of their size. The Hound met the ground with a loud thud and before he knew it; his training sword was kicked away and a training sword was pointed in his face.
"Do you yield?" Jon asked between pants.
"…Yield…fucking hells, I yield" Sandor growled annoyed as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Many of the Northerners, Essosi and even a couple of Southerners began clapping at the display Jon had just shown them. Jorah and Brienne clapped with impressed smiles, Tormund pounded his chest and hooted at the top of his lungs as did many of the Free Folk.
Daenerys couldn't help but smile and clap along at Jon's little display.
"Who the fuck taught you to fight like that?" Sandor asked; panting as he brushed the snow from his armour.
"A lot of different people" Jon replied as he caught his breath.
Ser Roderick wasn't the only battle mentor that Jon had in his life, Robb and Theon had shown him how to fight by sparring with him in his youth, Grenn, Pyp and Ser Alister had shown him other ways of fighting. The Halfhand had taught him a few tricks the hard way in his final fight before his death at Jon's hand. Tormund gave him a few improvisation pointers, as did Styr and Tanner in their own ways before Jon did them in.
Jon adapted very well, and with every new opponent he grew stronger in his skill and knowledge in fighting. He was no longer the green boy sent off to live out his days on the wall; he was battle hardened and at such a young age was one of the greatest fighters alive.
He was also the only man living who had killed a Magnar of the Thenns and 2 White Walkers in single combat.
A man like that had no shortage of skill with a Blade. All around he was probably the best fighter amongst all those gathered. Beric, Bronn, Jorah and Benjen were great fighters but they were all past their prime; Brienne had a great mixture of skill, strength and speed but she had limitations in terms of improvising, Arya was quick and agile but she didn't have the raw strength to back it up, Gendry was strong but lacked experience, Jamie was no longer even half the fighter he used to be, Lyle was as strong and powerful as the Hound but lacked his speed and ferocity.
And Jon had just shown his skill against the Hound.
"ALL RIGHT YOU LAZY FUCKERS! GET BACK TO WORK!" Bronn shouted; cupping his hands to amplify his voice. The men realizing the show was over went back to their duties of war preparations; the army of the dead would arrive any day now and they needed every second to get things ready.
Looking up at the rafters and making eye contact with the Dragon Queen; Jon smiled softly as he handed the training sword to one of the young men waiting for their turn in the sparring ring. Daenerys smiled softly back at Jon and couldn't help but feel her heart warm at the way he still looked at her. Even after everything that had transpired between them, Jon and Daenerys still loved each other with a fiery passion.
When Missandei whispered a few words into Daenerys' ear and she looked back at him; Jon could tell that she had Queenly matters to attend to, besides they would have some time to themselves later. Jon retrieved his sword-belt and put his cloak back on before going to the battlements to make sure the trenches were being kept up to standards.
Seeing the Unsullied and Northmen work side by side certainly put a smile on Jon's face, things were still tense between him and the Northern lords after Dany's little revelation in the main hall, but it was good to see that the news didn't change how the men looked at him. If anything, they seemed to admire him more, Rhaegar's reputation as a rapist and kidnapper now already fading into distant memory with the revelation, he had a trueborn son with the She-Wolf of Winterfell who loved him in return.
Two parents he never knew; it certainly made Jon feel more alone and abandoned than one parent he never knew.
"The access snow from the trenches should make it harder for the Wights to keep their formation, slow them down and make them easy targets" Jamie said as he approached from Jon's left.
"That's good…we need every advantage we can get" Jon replied quickly, not exactly thrilled at having to have a conversation with Jamie Lannister of all people.
"You look a lot like him you know" Jamie said with a nostalgic look in his eye.
"Like who?" Jon asked with a huff; not feeling exactly excited to be starting a conversation with Jamie Lannister of all people.
"Rhaegar" Jamie replied with a smirk.
"He may not have been a Northerner; but he could certainly brood with the best of them" Jamie continued; now looking out at the men as he stood beside Jon.
"You know…when I first heard Daenerys say that in the halls, I swore she was lying or had been fed a lie…but looking at you now, knowing who your father and mother were…it's obvious" Jamie continued.
"How is it obvious?" Jon asked.
"You may have the hair and eyes of a Stark…but there are little things about him that you definitely inherited. Little looks, flickers of a barely contained anger; now that I know he was your father…you certainly look like him…a shave and a change in hair colour you would look like a proper Targaryen" Jamie replied; answering Jon's question.
"…You knew him?" Jon asked after a long pause.
"I did" Jamie replied.
"…What…what was he like?" Jon asked.
"Strong, noble, fierce, all the shit the song writers and poets love. But…sad in his own way; he was a good man; I won't lie about that like so many other did. Definitely not a man capable of raping a woman, yet alone someone he always seemed to carry an affection for" Jamie explained.
"Why are you telling me this?" Jon asked; now turning to look at Jamie.
"Don't know…perhaps I want to make peace with his child before I see him again, perhaps I'm feeling a bit sentimental, maybe for some other reason…does it matter?" Jamie asked.
"No, I suppose not" Jon replied before looking out to men again.
His thoughts wandered to Rhaegar, the father he never had; the man he had never knew as anything but the man who kidnapped his aunt, now revealed to be his father and his aunt revealed to be his mother. It was enough to make him question a great number of things; like what kind of people were they? Ned Stark hadn't spoken about his sister to his children, Jon least of all; and now he knew why.
The closest Jon would ever get to his parents would be stories and descriptions of the people that knew them in life, of which there were not many.
"You fight very well; much better than I did at that age. Barristan and Arthur would have loved to meet you; that much I can say" Jamie continued.
"I still remember the smug look on your face when we first met" Jon retorted; looking at Jamie, their eyes meeting.
"I remember the smug way you waved me off to the wall, the smirk on your face when you took my hand and pulled me in…I believe it was the hand you are missing now" Jon turned to face Jamie.
"I remember wanting to hit you so hard it ruined that smug face of yours…but I knew I would lose my hand if I was lucky…you the brother of the Queen and me just a Bastard boy off to live out his days at the wall. Even then I knew you would have cleaved me in two before I even touched you…how times have changed eh?" Jon asked as Jamie took it all in.
The last time he and Jon spoke was a long time ago, a different life to many, ancient history by now to some. Back when Jamie still had two hands and didn't care about what his actions wrought, back when Jon had about as much worth as a back-alley whore.
"I'm not that same man anymore" Jamie replied after taking a deep breath.
"I know…I can tell. Why did you come to help us? Knowing you may have ended up on the executioners block?" Jon asked.
"I'll be honest, I didn't come North because of some unknown loyalty to the Targaryens, I didn't come to hope for reward from you or your Queen…I came because it was the right thing to do. The very same reason I killed her father" Jamie looked over to the rafters were Daenerys was deep in conversation with Missandei.
"She knows what her father was…I can promise you she isn't him" Jon replied as he looked over to Daenerys and couldn't help but smile at her ever-present beauty.
"You love her?" Jamie asked; his question more a statement than anything.
"…I do…there any problem with that?" Jon asked back; a hint of dragon fire in his voice.
"No…I'm the last person to judge another man on who he can and cannot love. For one you are both Targaryens and two, we can't choose who we fall in love with" Jamie replied with a hand on Jon's shoulder.
"We still need time to adjust, but fate has chosen to limit that time" Jon sighed as he turned back to watching over the rafters.
"Indeed…two days now is it? Or was it three?" Jamie asked.
"Does it matter? The Night King could be upon us tonight if he rode his dragon full speed, but then again he does seem to be taking his time" Jon replied.
"If he is anything of a strategist at all…he will be preparing his forces for an assault. Organizing them, outfitting them, preparing to destroy us with everything he has. 500,000…I don't think an army of that size has ever even been conceived before" Jamie replied.
"Well…it's not just Humans and Giants in his army from what Tormund has said" Jon replied.
A moment of silence between the two passed as Jon and Jamie contemplated the situation that lay before them, both Military commanders with much experience, one with more than the other but regardless. Jon had done nothing but fight since leaving Winterfell for the wall all those years ago, and Jamie had nothing but time to think since his defeat at Whispering Wood.
Plenty of mistakes to learn from.
"For all it's worth, I'm glad you are with us Lannister" Jon spoke quietly; earning a raised brow and smirk from Jamie.
"Are you really?" Jamie asked.
"I am…just don't tell Daenerys I said that; she still doesn't quite trust you" he smiled as the unlikely two shared a short laugh.
"Don't keep your feet too far apart!" Jorah instructed as he shoved his opponent backwards.
"And remember to keep your balance. These things won't hold back, they don't have fear of anything…you won't be able to fight them when you are flat on your back!" Jorah yelled as the Northmen gathered around him.
"Giantsbane…come over here and show them" Jorah waved his arm. Tormund smirked as he pranced in front of the Northmen with a big old grin on his face; his eyes wandered and met Brienne's.
The eye roll she gave in response to his waggling eyebrows was apparent to everyone but The Wildling fighter. Jorah knew how brutish Tormund could be; it was one of his best traits as a fighter. Men as ferocious as Tormund tended to last longer in bloodbaths than usual men, beyond the wall Tormund fought like a madman, snarling and hacking away at wights before they even had a chance to attack back.
He was the closest thing he had to a Wight right now, as Wildlings tended to go all out when they fought.
"Tormund, if you would please…show these men how a wight would bring them down" Jorah said as he stepped aside. Tormund picked up a blunted training blade and grinned at the first Northman that stood forward.
'little twat still has his mother's milk on his lip' Tormund thought as he began circling him like a shark.
The Northman wasn't even given a sign of Tormund's attack when the Wildling struck the sword from his grip and tackled him to the ground with a powerful shoulder tackle. Tormund was on the lad before he knew what hit him. Training sword pointed at his clavicle as the young lad panted in terror; the sight of a huge Red headed Wildling over you with a blade at your neck was not a pleasant one that any Northerner wanted to experience.
When Tormund heard a few chuckles, he looked up at the other Northerners with wild eyes.
"You fuckers think this is a joke! You think this is funny?"
"The fuckers that are coming are worse than me…they won't even kill you quick…they rip you to shreds like a Shadowcat playing with its food" Tormund growled, making some of the younger Northmen flinch.
"And you…" Tormund glared at the young Northerner on the floor.
"…you keep a firm grip on your sword, cuz those fuckers won't let you pick it up again" Tormund grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him onto his feet.
"YOU SOUTHERN TWATS HAD BETTER KEEP YOUR HEADS ON STRAIGHT! CUZ THOSE FUCKERS WILL GUT YOU ALIVE AND EVERYONE YOU'VE EVER KNOWN! JUST LIKE THEY DID AT HARDOME…95,000 MEN, WOMEN AND CHILDREN ALL DEAD" Tormund snarled at the Northerners as his words sank in.
"Hardhome was almost the end of the Free Folk…if we lose here, we are all fucked" Tormund snarled one last time before stepping away. Jorah stepping back into his place calmly as he turned to the Northerners.
"Well I believe that makes things clear enough for you…let's continue" Jorah said as he waved another Northern lad closer.
Samwell watched from the rafters; Jorah's actions and attitude greatly reminding him of Lord Commander Mormont, he was certainly his father's son. And seeing the ginger Wildling in action made Sam realize why Jon liked him so much; he took what it meant to be a Northerner to the next level.
"What are you looking at Sam?" Gilly asked as she laid a hand on the arm of the former Maester in training.
"Just watching some of the men train, it's a historical moment Gilly. For the first time in history, Northerners, Southerners, Dothraki, Unsullied and Wildlings are fighting together. And with two full grown dragons flying above Winterfell…If someone doesn't record this it would be a great shame" Sam replied, already taking the sights to memory.
"Plan on writing a book on everything?" Gilly smiled as she looped an arm around Sam's.
"Why not? The coming days will be the most important in history if we manage to survive" Sam replied; Gilly pulled a frown and elbowed him in the arm.
"Oh, sorry…when we manage to survive"
"Much better" Gilly smiled.
"I think we're fucked" Edd chipped in from behind.
"Well calling you fucked wouldn't strictly be accurate" Sam smirked.
"Oh, look at you…Samwell Tarly growing a set of balls…it really is the end of the fucking world" Edd sighed as he proceeded to walk away.
Gilly only chuckled as she leaned into Sam's side warmly, Little Sam was nice and cosy in her arms; the blonde-haired little lad growing bigger every day, pretty soon he would be saying his first words. God's know Sam didn't want his son's first words to be influenced by The Hound or Tormund that much was for sure.
His thoughts were with the recent events; when Daenerys first told him of what she did to his father and Dickon he was sure she was a monster, another blood hungry Targaryen that simply killed those that stood in her ways, a merciless monarch just like her father. But when he saw her trying to comfort Jon when his parentage was revealed, when she told everyone the truth of who he really was in the great hall.
Seeing how Jon defended her with everything he had.
Sam was having serious doubts. She couldn't be like her father; she cared for Jon and didn't want to see him hurt. The passion in her voice when she tried to comfort him, after he and Bran had almost broken him, the tears in her eyes for the pain he was feeling, the shaking of her voice, the way Ghost always trailed besides her and seemed to be ever protective of her. Ghost was never one to defend those he didn't trust, and strangely enough Sam knew how good a judge of character Ghost was.
It was like the Direwolf could sense if a person was good or not.
Sam always knew his own father was as far from a good man as a man could get. Dickon, his little brother didn't deserve to burn, but he chose to stand beside their father in the end. Sam knew how the world was seldom fair, how it was seldom black and white.
As he looked over at Daenerys Targaryen across the courtyard; talking to the commander of her Dothraki, gigantic Direwolf at her side. It was in this moment that Samwell Tarly questioned what he thought he knew about the Targaryen Queen.
"Be sure they have all had their Arakhs coated Qhono, we cannot afford anyone not fighting at their best" Dany told the Dothraki commander in their native tongue.
"It will be done Blood of my Blood" Qhono pounded a fist against his chest before leaving to do what was needed.
As Daenerys walked along the battlements; Ghost at her side and the men around her working hard to prepare for the coming siege she wondered what would come if they somehow survived? What would transpire once the Army of the Dead had been defeated? One answer came to mind and it involved her on the Iron Throne with a very handsome Northman beside her.
"Something I should know?" Jon asked as he approached Daenerys.
"Just making sure the men are all armed properly. We can't afford any mistakes at this point, can't we?"
"That we cannot your grace" Jon smiled as he offered his arm to Daenerys which she gladly looped her arm around.
"How are you this Morning?" Jon asked.
"Better; thank you for asking" Daenerys replied with a bright smile. Yet again last night they spent silently comforting each other in a warm embrace; not letting the world or its harshness separate them. They knew what they were to each other and by the many looks they were being given by Northerners and Southerners alike it seems they were not the only ones.
A blind man could see the affection the two monarchs had developed for each other. Then again Jon was technically not a King in the same way Daenerys wouldn't be the Queen until she sat on the throne. Their titles were in large dispute, as Jon's claim to the throne was greater than Dany's, but everyone present still referred to them both by 'your grace' whether Jon corrected them or not.
Jon had never wanted to be a king, but he would gladly let it slide if it meant he could be with Dany. The way Lord Howland had referred to them as 'My King' and 'My Queen' upon his arrival at Winterfell gave him hope, maybe everyone had accepted that as Targaryens that blood mixing between them was perfectly acceptable.
Then again what houses didn't mix blood from time to time? Afterall, it was Jon's grandfather Rickard Stark who had married his own cousin, Tyrion's father Tywin was married to his own Cousin. It wasn't as uncommon as one would think; and having been given a few days to let it sink in, Jon had stopped caring about their shared blood.
"I see your bodyguard is still watching over you" Jon smiled as he looked over at Ghost.
"He's been very helpful, haven't you boy?" Dany ran a soft hand over Ghost's head; an action the Direwolf revelled in.
Jon smiled at how loyal Ghost had grown towards Daenerys; he felt comfort knowing that no matter what happened, that if he couldn't be at Dany's side to protect her, that his ever faithful Direwolf would.
"Strange…he's always had a nasty habit of wandering off at times, all alone; quiet as a Ghost" Jon replied.
"I sometimes forget he's here he is that quiet. You certainly named him well" Dany smiled.
"The Halfhand used to tell me he would never be tamed; that it was impossible trying to even Understand a Wild thing. But growing with him; seeing him get bigger and fiercer…him and I began to understand each other…the same way you seem to understand your dragons" Jon held her closer as they walked in synch.
"Now on that I can relate. Jorah used to tell me I would never be able to tame my sons; after a while I came to understand it was never about taming them, but connecting with them, understanding that they weren't just dumb animals, that they were…"
"Apart of you" Jon finished Dany's sentence for her. she smiled at how Jon understood what she meant; his bonding with Rhaegal had a more profound effect on him than she expected.
The three kept walking; seeing over the preparations; the Unsullied readying their dragonglass spears, the Northmen handing out Dragonglass edged Arakhs to the Dothraki. The Men of House Reed tipping their arrows in molten dragonglass and the Crakehall men doing maintenance on their plate armour and the armour of their horses.
Jon couldn't remember the first time he had seem to many men in Heavy armour; the lands near Crakehall must have had great Iron Mines to provide the raw materials for so much plate armour and chainmail.
The way the Lords that were present looked at Dany still bothered him greatly; Lord Glover gave her a side eye from the battlements with a thinly vieled mistrust; Lord Manderly tended to steer clear of her; Lord Cerwyn would smile to her face but Jon could see the unfounded fear behind his eyes, obviously still remembering the sight of his flayed father in his head and hearing the stories of how Lord Rickard and Lord Brandon had met their fates at the hands of Daenerys' father.
Lyanna Mormont was still on the fence, though she was not the type to mince words or hold back what she thought. Even the young Lord Flint looked at Daenerys with a barely restrained hatred; that hatred turning to fear whenever Jon turned his gaze towards him. He honestly thought Lord Roderick Flint looked better with that black eye he had given him.
Then; turning his gaze back to Daenerys; Jon noticed that little hint of barely restrained sadness in her eyes. She had come all the way North to save the people; her people, yet the Lords still looked at her with the same disdain and mistrust they would give a common criminal.
She didn't deserve to well on their looks any longer; that's when lightning struck Jon's mind and an idea began to take hold. A quick idea that may just lift her spirits.
"My Queen…may I interest you in a ride?" Jon asked as he turned and faced Daenerys.
"A ride? What kind of ride?" Daenerys asked with a confused smile; Ghost comically tilting his head.
"It occurs to me I've shown you everything of Winterfell; but not of WinterTown. The people would very much like to meet their Queen after all" Jon smiled.
"Oh…no, Lord Snow, I'm…I'm not sure if…" Dany began to doubt herself; but Jon pulled her in close and gazed into her eyes.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"Yes" She replied without hesitation as she found herself ensnared by his iron grey eyes.
"Then let's go" he smiled as he led her towards the stables where their horses were being kept. Along the way Jon pointed to four well-armed and armoured Stark men, the leader of the men easily distinguished by his long bushy beard.
"Aberdolf, get your men on their horses; the Queen and I need an escort" Jon smiled as he led Dany to her silver mount.
"Aye sire" The Strongbearded man replied with a nod; standing up and kicking one of his men in the arse "You Erd him! Get yer fucking arses up" he said with a really thick accent; not Northern…but strong.
Jon and Dany mounted their horses; Ghost's tail wagging as the Stark bannermen mounted their horses and positioned themselves on all four corners of the two Targaryens. The Direwolf standing at his full height looking about as big an any of the horses.
The clopping of hooves over snow echoed as the man on horseback approached the large heart tree. A large black stallion under him whinnying as it approached the tree, Valyrian Steel great sword on his back and a look of tension adorning his face. Small figures, no larger than children seemed to appear from around the tree, their skin green like leaves and their eyes inhuman yet filled with emotion at the side of the man approaching them.
Alden Stark had come a long way; and from the way the snow was heavily falling around him, it seemed he was just in time.
"Halt" one of the children spoke, holding out a hand.
Alden raised both his arms and made his stallion halt as the children drew bows and spears and aimed them at the heavily armed and armoured Northman.
"I am Alden…Blood of the Wolf and King in the North…I have come to honour the bargain" he spoke with surety.
Slowly but surely the children lowered their spears and bows.
Alden slowly dismounted the stallion; Brandon Stark standing nearby watching intently as Alden took Ice from his back and carried it over to the children. It was only then that Bran noticed that this Ice was not the same Valyrian Steel sword his father wielded; the blade was narrower; its hilt more ornate with runic markings of the First men and High Valyrian.
"You have come to us at last…and you do not bring the child…but dragonsteel?" one of the children asked with a tilted head.
"I will not bring Brandon into this" Alden replied quickly.
"You have the chance to destroy this evil for all time…to erase it with the gift of Ice and Fire…yet you refuse? Why?" Leaf asked.
"My son will not be a part of this…he will not. This is my burden to bear, not his, I will not risk his life or his suffering for something he has no part in" Alden replied.
"He won't…but his descendants will…thousands of years from now, his descendants and the descendants of dragon may suffer or rejoice depending on how your choice transpires" another of the children said while circling around him.
"I will not fail in my mission; I swear it on my life" Alden replied.
"Success in one thing can often lead to failure in another if given time. And whatever oaths you swear will not help you in what is to come" another one of the Children said as they approached and looked up at him.
"Just tell me what must be done, dam you" Alden grit his teeth.
"You are the greatest warrior amongst the living…it must be your blade that does the deed. And since you did not bring the child…you must endure a pain beyond imagining" yet another child said as they approached.
"Whatever you have in store for me, I will accept it" Alden replied.
"You may accept now, Alden of the Wolf…but in time…your stubborn sacrifice may lead to damnation" another child stepped aside to lead Alden to the Heart Tree.
The towering Stark ancestor rolled his shoulders and walked towards the Heart Tree; there the Children asked him to lay down his arms, cloak and armour. He complied with their every wish; leaving him in only his leathers and boots.
"What do you want of me now?" he asked.
"…You must endure the pain of death and survival, die but not die; step into the veil between the living and the dead. To defeat the Night King…you must take upon his strengths, become more…and less than a man" Leaf, the leader gestured to the Tree.
"I will do whatever you ask of me…just tell me what to do" Alden borderline growled; tired of the constant riddles and cryptic speeches.
"You must be bound to the heart tree…and surrender your heart…and your soul, to the will of the Old Gods" Leaf spoke.
Alden knew of what they meant; he took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with cold air before letting out a loud sigh. He could see one of the children take out a long black dagger of Dragonglass; a knife of volcanic origin, fire given form like the dragons of his wife's homeland.
"For fuck's sake let's get this over with" the Northman growled as he sat with his back to the Heart Tree. The children approaching with ropes and a gag to muffle the screams he would give when the deed was done.
Bran watched intently as he saw Alden Stark tied to the tree to have Dragonglass plunged into his heart.
Bran watched Alden Stark kick and scream at the top of his lungs as the Dragonglass slowly pierced his chest and took root deep in the cockles of his heart. Bran's face left its usual vacant expression as he could almost feel the pain Alden went through; his shrieks of pain piercing the air as the wind began to howl; as snow began to fall.
The screams slowly died down as he went lax; the Children stepping back at the sight of what they had done. Hands clenched so tight they could draw blood; Bran stepped around to see what the children had done to Alden; but before his eyes could see what Alden Stark had turned into; an icy blue hand shot out of nowhere and wrapped around his arm.
"AGH!" Bran screamed in genuine shock as the Night King materialized beside him. Without a moment's hesitation he snapped himself out of the vision as fast as he could. The time between the Night King lunging for him and the visions ending was getting shorter. Bran was afraid that the next time he went into a vision would at last be caught in the Night King's grasp.
The last time that had happened…it didn't end well.
Bran looked up at the many ravens and crows perching up in the Heart Tree above him. It was perhaps time to do some reconnaissance on the enemy; regular updates on their progress were important after all.
The clip clop of hooves against stone was a comforting sound to Daenerys; like the Khaleesi that she was she enjoyed the power and grace of riding in the saddle of a limber and healthy mare like the one she was riding. The silver mare may not have been the Silver that Drogo had gifted to her, but this mare was just as fast and limber and agile. Then again one could never feel as powerful on horseback as they could on Dragonback.
Then again; the snow stifled the sound of horse hooves on stone, so that added comfort was not there. When Daenerys had first passed through WinterTown she was in the midst of her army of 9,000 loyal and dedicated Unsullied; with Drogon and Rhaegal gliding overhead. But right now, the only protection she has was Jon, four Northern soldiers loyal to him and the ever faithful Direwolf, Ghost.
Not that she doubted the loyalty of those protecting her, but if a riot broke out it would be all too easy for the Northerners to tear her from the back of her horse and beat her to death or tear her limb from limb. But while she expected rotten fruit and jeers of hatred and distrust, the same as she was greeted with by the Northern Lords; instead she saw smiling faces and people bowing their heads not in fear, but respect.
The people looked much better than they did when she arrived; obviously the food that Tyrion had advised they bring had done wonders for the common folk. She couldn't help but smile when a few children raced to the side of the road to get a good look at the Dragon Queen; entranced at her silver hair and violet eyes.
"There is an Alehouse just down the road, The Smoking Log, they brew a very fine brown ale, does her grace feel a bit thirsty?" Jon asked.
"Now that you mention it Lord Snow…I am feeling rather parched" Daenerys smiled.
Only a few moments later and the doors to the Inn and Alehouse were opened by Alberdolf and one of the Stark Men; followed immediately by Jon, Daenerys and Ghost, the last two Stark men closing the doors behind them. Inside the Alehouse were the sounds of singing and merry making; a roaring fire illuminated the room as the bartender and barmaids took orders let and right. Surprisingly Dany found the place quite spacious and warm, unlike the cold, grim and solemn halls of Winterfell this place felt…homely.
The people weren't lordly in the slightest, no manners from the hairy and bearded men that messily slurped down ale that spilled down their bushy beards, tearing into mutton and pork and snorting like pigs. It wasn't an upper-class place, but it was certainly a welcome change of pace from what Daenerys had experienced of the North so far.
"…and so, I said to him; if you think I'm selling you more that fucking horse for that less than 2 silvers you got another thing coming!" one drunken Stark soldier said from one of the nearby tables.
"Then what did he say?" one of his mates asked; his mouth still full of chicken.
"I don't know…fucker was already riding off" he replied to the laughs of his friends. A little girl ran up to the soldier and tugged on his sleeve.
"What is it luv?" he asked with a smile.
"Poppa, what does the Dragon Queen look like?" she asked.
"Oh, my sweet; you saw her when she rode into town. She's got silver hair; violet eyes and the prettiest smile ever…well not as pretty as your smile luv" he smiled as he ruffled her brown hair.
"Is that her?" she pointed right as Daenerys. The soldier and all his friends turned in their seats to look upon the ethereal form of the Dragon Queen herself; as if on que everyone else in the Inn noticed her presence and fell to their knees.
"Your grace!" the stark soldier dropped to his knees at the sight of the Dragon Queen.
Jon didn't take offence that they didn't acknowledge him; he blended into Northern settings quite well with his dark hair and furred cloak. But Daenerys stuck out like a sore thumb with her bright white fur coat and her gleaming silver hair. Ghost being present only helped in making her stand out against the Northern setting.
"Please, don't mind us my people…Lord Snow and I are just here for a drink" Daenerys gestured for the people to get off their knees.
"Oi you heard them! Her Grace and Lord Snow want a table!" the Bartender shouted at the top of his lungs. People began scrambling to put together a table suitable for a Queen and the Lord of Winterfell.
"Please, this isn't necessary" Dany held out her hands in protest as the Northern people inside the Tavern went about fetching chairs and fresh ale and food for the two. Jon all the time watching the looks on Dany's face; the surprise that these people were being so hospitable to her.
It was no surprise to Jon how the common people would react to Daenerys; as a Bastard boy he would come to the Smoking Log to drink; Sometimes Robb and Theon would tag along but he knew a lot of the patrons by name. Being a Bastard boy, he came to understand how they thought, how they processed things. Unlike the Highborn cunts that littered palaces and castles, the common people didn't care if you were a Bastard or not; they cared about what kind of person you were.
Dany's arrival in Winterfell at first seemed like an invasion; but when Jon saw the Unsullied handing out food, fresh provisions and blankets to the people of WinterTown he saw how they reacted. These were people that simply wanted their children fed, warm and safe; and Daenerys had brought all three. They didn't care about her status as a Targaryen once she provided for them, they saw her as a rescuer as Jon knew she was.
Within ten minutes the mood had went back to the same joyous mood the Tavern had when Jon and Dany had first arrived. Many of the tables had been brought into a large circle as Dany regaled the people with tales of Essos, of how she got her army of Unsullied, how her Dragons eggs hatched, her conquest of Slaver's bay and many more stories that the people listened to with great interest. For a Queen to walk amongst her people was one thing; but to sit in a tavern with them and drink, laugh and share stories was simply unheard of.
Jon smiled warmly as he watched Dany tell her stories to the people; some children had actually come inside and sat on the bear skin rug next to the Hearth. The Bartender and Barmaids brought in fresh food and made sure the ale mugs were full of the brownest they could spare; in honour of the Queen.
"…He fully expected me to relinquish one of my dragons to him in exchange for a slave army; little did he know I understood every single word he had said to me as if I didn't understand him" Daenerys explained.
"You know Valyrian your grace?" one of the men asked.
"Issa ñuha muña ēngos" Daenerys replied to the awe of everyone there; the beautiful and flowing dialogue enthralling everyone as if they had heard the very voice of an angel.
"What does that mean your grace?" one of the women asked; bouncing a little boy on her lap.
"It means 'It is my Mother tongue' I knew how to speak Valyrian before I could speak common" Daenerys smiled back.
The people whispered back in forth in awe at the beauty of the foreign tongue; most of the people in the North could barely get by speaking the common tongue; but to hear someone speak in such a poetic and mystical tongue that hadn't been spoken in the North for hundreds of years was an experience in itself.
"Milord…if you don't mind me asking, are the rumours true?" one of the other common folks asked; judging by his beaten leathers and furs he was probably a Hunter.
"What rumours?" Jon asked with a raised brow after taking a swig of ale.
"That you aren't Lord Eddard's son. That your mother and father were Lady Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar?" the Hunter asked.
"Absolutely true; Jon is a legitimate Targaryen" Daenerys happily admitted; Jon smiling at the dreamy look she shot at him as she explained. If Dany's High Valyrian demonstration wasn't enough to fill the people with shock and awe, Jon's parentage certainly did.
"A Legitimate Targaryen? Like your grace?" one of the dirtier Stark warriors asked.
"Very much so; although he doesn't have the colouring; Jon certainly has Dragonblood flowing through his veins" Dany happily admitted; placing a hand on Jon's arm. Many of the common folk noticed the gesture and the way the two highborns looked at each other; a pretty easy puzzle to piece together.
"Wouldn't that make him…a Prince? Or a King?" one of the barmaids asked as she brought over fresh ale.
"Oh, Jon is every Inch a King; a true Dragonlord of Old Valyria; he has already proven himself in riding a Dragon" Daenerys replied. Jon admitted the flattery was getting too much for him when he noticed Dany was sitting much closer to him; and had went from placing a hand on his arm to wrapping hers around his.
"Was that you riding that Green Dragon, Your Grace?" the Bartender asked; the title change from Milord to Your Grace flowing naturally.
"Aye; that it was. Rhaegal is the dragon's name. He is strong, fast, brave, stubborn and not to mention very wild when he has to be…a lot like his rider to be honest" Jon smiled back with a proud face.
"You nearly shat yourself when I asked you to ride him" Dany stated with a raised a brow at Jon.
Jon nearly spat out his ale when Dany said that; many of the men present began choking in surprise; but the shock quickly turned to raucous laughter; a laughter that Jon joined in after a second of looking at the satisfied grin spread across Dany's face. Many of the Stark men were almost coughing from how hard they were laughing; tears rolled down the faces of the women and some of the children laughed themselves.
Dany was fairly confident that these children had heard far worse cursing from their parents and relatives. Normally as a Queen she would hold herself with a grace and poise; but right now, she wanted to show the Northerners she was just a woman; not some mythical figure they should be afraid of; but a woman that wanted them to feel comfortable around her.
"I hope you don't mind me saying your grace; but you are a proper lady, not like those high and mighty snobs that wince over breaking a nail" one of the drunker patrons laughed with everyone else.
"I'm glad to hear that Les; but I wasn't always as well off as I am now. Believe it or not I used to live on the streets; begging for food and table scraps" Daenerys replied as the laughing subsided.
"No…you lived on the streets your grace?" one of the women asked with surprise in their eyes.
"I did…after Robert took the throne my brother and my mother; still pregnant with me were sent to Essos to escape his assassins. My mother died bringing me into the world; and when I was but a child; the old knight that took care my brother and I died of illness. After that our former servants took all of our money and threw my brother and I onto the streets to fend for ourselves…I had never cried so much in my life…"
"How old were you?" one of the children asked; enthralled.
"…I was five years old…barely able to even understand why it was happening. We had hard times after that; things got so bad my brother had to sell our mother's crown for food. After that Viserys became bitter; and angry, angry at Robert for taking our birth right from us, angry at the world for denying us a home, angry at me for killing our mother…he only got worse after that. Eventually he even sold me to the Dothraki…the way you would sell a goat or a pig…" Dany explained sombrely as the people gathered around listened intently.
Jon couldn't help put listen to the pain in the way she confessed her past to the people around her; to a bystander who had never met Daenerys it would seem as if she were in pain describing it. But Jon knew Dany; and he could tell from the tone in her voice that simply having people that didn't judge her listening to her words was extraordinarily cathartic. As Dany told the people of what hardships she had suffered it was then that Jon realized why they both felt so comfortable here.
They weren't born and raised as Royalty were. He was born and raised as a Bastard, the bastard of a great and kind Lord but a bastard nonetheless. Noble sons weren't forced to sit away from their families and by hateful mothers, they weren't sneered at by everyone they passed, and they weren't constantly reminded how worthless they were and how their existence was a mistake. Princes even less so; yet that's what he had always been in truth; a Prince.
Princesses weren't thrown out onto the streets to fend for themselves; to starve and sleep under bridges with the rats, to scavenge for scraps to not die of hunger. To sell the only things they had of their past and long dead family just to survive, to be abused by a bitter and angry brother without anyone to defend or protect them. To be sold like livestock just so their brother can gain an army to further himself. Jon and Dany were not the typical royalty people would expect. They had much more in common with these commoners than any of the Lords or Ladies in Winterfell or the Red Keep. They understood what it meant to not be appreciated, to not be loved, to be ignored, to have to scrape to survive, to do whatever was necessary just to keep breathing.
Jon held Dany's hand in his; no longer caring if anyone saw how tenderly he caressed her hand in his.
'You won't have to suffer that pain again…I promise you' Jon swore to Dany within his mind. He would make sure she never suffered pain like that ever again.
"Your graces" one of the children asked; a little boy no older than 6 in ragged clothes. Dany and Jon both turned to face him.
"The White Walkers…the Long Night…it's really coming?" he asked with a trembling voice.
"…Aye little one; I wish it weren't" Jon replied.
"…Will…will you protect us?" the boy asked just as scared; having been weened stories of the Long Night and the coming of the White Walkers for his childhood.
"What is your name?" Daenerys asked.
"Ned" he replied quickly; afraid he may have said something not befitting a question to a Queen. But Dany slowly knelt down and leaned forward, reaching forward she cupped the little lad's face in her soft hands before speaking as softly as she could.
"I swear to you Ned, we will…We will do everything in our power to keep you safe, all of you" Dany held the little boy's face in her hands as tenderly as she could. The tears came streaming down the little boy's face whether it was out of relief or fear or sadness or something else. Daenerys couldn't help but pull the little boy into her arms; his tears staining her white fur coat, but she didn't care.
For the first time since arriving in Winterfell; Daenerys Targaryen; Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons; felt like she had found her people. And the People of the North had felt they had finally found their Queen in the most unlikely of faces. The face of a highborn woman embracing a lowborn boy in tattered rags.
"When the fighting is all over; the North will need big, strong boys like you to help rebuild. Can I count on you Ned?" Dany asked as she broke the embrace after a minute or two.
"Y-You can C-Count on me…my Queen" Ned sniffed; wiping his tears away.
"Alberdorf; you make sure that boy and his family are fed and well taken care of; is that understood?" Jon asked the bearded man.
"Of course, Sire" he nodded.
"Not just them…everyone in Wintertown; you make sure if anything happens you let myself or the Queen know about it" Jon made sure to reiterate his point so his bannerman understood.
One of the commoners stood up with his ale mug in hand; and with a bellowing yell he shouted "TO THE KING AND QUEEN!" his ale spilling onto the floor. without even a moment's hesitation every person in the Alehouse stood to their feet and raised whatever mug or tankard or horn they were drinking out of and announced as one at a volume that everyone outside could hear.
"TO THE KING AND QUEEN!"
Jon and Dany's eyes met; the White Wolf offering his hand to the still kneeling Daenerys who took the offered hand and rose to her feet. The Dragon Queen and her Dragonwolf couldn't help but smile as the dozens upon dozens of patrons cheered and toasted to the man and woman they had accepted as their new King and Queen.
WHOA I ENJOYED WRITING THAT; I hope you guys enjoyed reading it.
No smut in this chapter, but then again, I didn't promise Smut did i? I promised some Jonerys and I hope you guys enjoyed the bit I had in this chapter. The final breath before the plunge is coming lads and lasses, so I hope you are all ready for the Fireworks because they are going to be loud.
In case any of you needed visual aid as to how the Crakehall men are dressed; imagine the Cavalrymen in 15th century German plate armour (Sallet helms, fully segmented plate) and late 14th century plate and mail, while the infantrymen wear mixes of 14th century plate and mail armour and a more even mix of chainmail, Bassinette helms, Brigandine battle vests, Kettle hats, late 12th century Iron Hat helms with and without face plates.
And YES, that Lead Stark guard is Aberdolf Strongbeard AKA Andre McClay AKA The Best Extra is TV HISTORY! CLUB sandwiches my dudes XD I couldn't resist giving him a bit of love.
I hope the next chapter will please because I still have a bit of ground to cover before the battle commences. Basically, the characters all getting locked and loaded for what is just out on the horizon.
See you guys next time, Hope you enjoyed it and as always REVIEW, they always help.
DAKKAMAN777 SIGNING OUT.