Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire

Alyssa I Targaryen

Book : The Long Night

Chapter 12: Battle of Winterfell

Beta:

Two days after Robb's wedding, Alyssa and Robb were in Winterfell's courtyard seeing the last of the noncombatant dignitaries off as they returned to the safety of their own castles via Gate.

"Goodbye, your grace." Adorable little Lyanna Mormont said with a curtsy.

"Goodbye, Lady Mormont. May we meet again soon." Alyssa said as she took her hand gently and planted a kiss to the back of the startled girl's hand.

"You are a charmer, your grace." Lyanna's elder sister and guardian Alysane said with a laugh as she guided the bewildered and speechless but gently blushing Lyanna towards their portal back to Bear Island. "I am sure that Lyanna will visit you in King's Landing once this war is won. Won't she, Mother?"

"Perhaps," Lady Maege, who was staying behind to command the Mormont contingent said with a wave of her hand. "But for now back to Bear Island with the lot of you."

Chuckling, Alysane led the rest of the Mormont household returning to their seat walked through the portal. Lady Maege waited till the portal had closed before she turned to look at Alyssa.

"Should I know what is going on between you and my youngest daughter, your grace?"

Alyssa just offered her a mischievous smile.

"We'll speak of it once the battle is over."

The mention of the battle turned Lady Maege solemn and she nodded. Robb however was not so easily quelled and unlike his goodmother turned to Alyssa with a teasing smirk.

"You are insatiable aren't you, Alys?"

Before Alyssa could respond, Maester Randall ran towards them from the direction of the Maester's Turret.

"Your grace, my lord," the middle aged Maester said as he caught his breath. "There's been an urgent report."

"What is it?" Alyssa asked, dreading the answer.

"Our scouts have sighted the Army of the Dead." The Maester said in between deep gulps of air. "It has been swelled with fresh numbers from their successful scouring of the Karstark lands, and now number almost a hundred and thirty thousand wights."

Alyssa seethed at the news even if it was expected. Especially since the news meant they would likely be outnumbered somewhere in the region of two to one. For despite their best efforts they had only managed to gather seventy thousand men into Winterfell so far.

"How far away are they?" Robb asked in her stead.

"Close, my lord. They will be here by the end of day."

That evening Alyssa and Robb were in the gatehouse of the South Gate looking over the new fortifications that Alyssa had used Control Earth to create so as to greatly expand Winterfell's defenses. Defenses that had been built over Winter town for as much as it was necessary for the smallfolk to weather the winter, all of them had been evacuated south and fighting in the cramped confines of a town was foolhardy. So with her magic she had crashed the entire town with the same of waves of earth that she then used to build the new fortifications.

She had wanted to create more more than three rings of walls and flaming ditches like she had at Last Hearth, but due to Winterfell's much greater size she had barely managed three rings this time. However, to bolster the defenses she had split each ring into smaller sections with gates protecting the entrances and exits to each and placed the gates leading to the next ring in as different a direction as possible. All these elaborate fortifications were now blanketed by a thick layer of snow which would have made for a picturesque sight if not for the snow being courtesy of the blinding blizzard the Others had conjured to herald their arrival.

"They've started running," Robb said as he looked through the Myrish eye and looking out at the incoming Army of the Dead.

"Message Rakharo to send out the cavalry and thin out the runners!" Alyssa shouted at Maester Randall and a group of Message capable casters who stood nearby to relay orders. "Inform the commanders to light the ditches! Have our siege engines open fire!"

"Alys, take care out there." Robb said as he put the far eye down and nodded at Alyssa.

"I will," Alyssa said with a nod of her own as she raced down the tower stairs and out the South Gate, Ser Wendel and Brienne pushing their way through the crowd of men rushing to and fro through the gate for her as she hurried to where Ghost waited just outside.

Really wish the tower had bigger windows than just arrow slits, it would be so much easier to just jump down and use Levitate. Alyssa thought as she used the aforementioned spell to float herself and her two shadows up into the howdah on Ghost's back where the rest of her Queensguard waited.

"Everyone ready?" Alyssa asked as she quickly began strapping herself into her throne.

"We are," Loras confirmed.

"Then," Alyssa said as she finished securing herself. "Ghost! Fly!"

With a powerful beat of his wings and a mighty push of his hind limbs, her familiar took to the air with Drogon and Rhaegal following soon after and taking position on his right and left respectively.

Even as his Queen took to the air, the newly installed Lord of the Eyrie and Defender of the Vale, Harrold Hardyng led the knights of the Vale as they, along the Dothraki and other cavalry, tried to thin the wight hordes through massed charges through the running swarms of undead.

Thank the gods that the fire arrow and siege weapon fire forces the wights from massing together. If not we cavalry would be completely useless. Harry thought to himself as he and his squadron of knights kept a close wedge formation and galloped through the undead ranks. Even if the enemy ranks was full of gaps, they had to keep moving. As they had learned at great cost throughout this war, slowing whilst surrounded by wights was deadly. The damned things were slower than a horse at anything more than a walk but they were fast enough to catch a rider if they slowed their mount and more than strong enough to pull a man from a horse with contemptuous ease. Add to that their tendency to swarm and they were truly deadly foes to cavalry.

Nevertheless, he and his knights along with the other horsemen on the field were doing an admirable job of thinning the enemy hordes. Harry himself had put to final rest at least a hundred wights, having lost count somewhere in the eighties. His counting having been hampered by the low visibility created by the magical blizzard that the enemy had conjured. For the longest time the only real illumination had been provided by the torches some of his men carried or the occasional bursts of dragonfire from the dueling dragons in the sky above.

Harry had just given the peace of death to a wight that had once been a Karstark men-at-arms when suddenly a scream from the rear of his formation had him leading his squadron wheeling around. They turned to see giant ice spider mounted Other pinning one of their fellows, horse and all, to the ground with a crystal lance piercing through the knight's chest.

"Kill it!" Harry ordered as he urged his own horse around to charge the inhuman creature.

Immediately the wights all around them, acting on their master's orders most likely, attempted to swarm towards him and his men, but the combination of the speed of their gallop and the efforts of the riders with lances tipped with flaming rags that Harry kept at the edges of his formation for just such an occasion easily fended them off and the wedge galloped towards the Other.

The inhuman creature looked at them with contemptuous disdain as it had its mount leap at them, knocking the rearmost knight in their squadron to the ground just like he had its first victim. It prepared to leap again but the nearest knights stabbed their lances at it.

Their blows killed its mount which shattered like glass but the accursed Other simply leapt off and onto the back of one of the horses of Harry's knights, knocking its rider off in the process. Again the nearest knights lashed out with their lances, but in a display of remarkable agility it either parried or ducked away from the strikes. It however failed to account for the dragonglass throwing knife Harry tossed its way.

Harry thus had the satisfaction of seeing the monster's stunned face with his throwing knife sticking out of its right eye seconds before it shattered like its mount had just moments earlier, causing all the surrounding wights to collapse.

A cheer went up among Harry's knights at that and he unabashedly joined in, but their joy was short lived as a horn signalling the retreat of the cavalry was sounded.

Harry chanced a glance over the battlefield and even as much as he hated to admit it was the right move to make. Even through the limited visibility of the snowstorm, he could see that the enemy's main forces had already managed to run past the gauntlet of the flaming projectiles and cavalry to mass against the outermost walls and were pressing against them like an undead tide. Only stragglers remained for the cavalry to cull and his men would be of better use elsewhere.

"We'll wheel around to the North Gate," Harry ordered his men as he slowed down to a trot. "Once inside the walls we'll dismount and fight on foot. They'll need every man they can inside."

"Yes, my lord!" His men shouted loyally as they followed him.

Whilst her men fought valiantly on the ground, Alyssa flew out on Ghost with Drogon and Rhaegal to face the Night King and Viserion,

The visibility is terrible, even more so than normal when fighting the Others. They must be pouring more magic into the blizzard than usual. Alyssa noted with a frown. Is that why I see no signs of boulder slingers? Or did we manage to finish of the wight giants?

Ghost's warning roar and his hasty evasion answered that last question easily enough as a volley of massive ice spears flew up at the three dragons, all of which managed to evade the attack that a quick glance below came from a set of wight giants.

He's upgraded his javelin throwers. Alyssa cursed as she grabbed her speaking horn.

"Rhaegal, Drogon! Be careful of those spears! I do not know how the Mage Armor I cast on you will hold out against them."

The two dragons roared their understanding just as Viserion flew out of the falling snow and breathed a torrent of his twisted blue dragonfire at his black scaled brother. Drogon evaded but, perhaps in a moment of confusion or forgetfulness, he dove down and put himself directly into the line of fire of the javelin throwers below. Rhaegal screeched at him even as he charged at Viserion, forcing him away and Drogon hastily tried to fly back up to safety.

He was too late however and three of the oversized ice spears found their mark. Shattering the Mage Armor protecting him like it was little more than glass. Two shredded his left wing, causing him to list to the right and directly into the path of the third which blasted a hole directly through his chest killing the great beast instantly.

"Drogon!" Alyssa cried out in dismay as her late Aunt's mightiest son died.

Ghost let out his own mournful cry but he did not hesitate to breath his dragonfire over Drogon's falling corpse, incinerating it before it ever reached the ground and denying it to the Night King.

Rhegal's heartbreaking screech however was the most intense as was befitting a creature that had just seen the last of his brothers die. It however immediately turned this grief into unbridled fury as it slammed into Viserion. Completely ignoring the barrier of cutting winds that the Night King kept around his mount and despite the grievous wounds he suffered from doing so, he tore into his brother's animated corpse with such viciousness that it knocked the Night King off.

Unwilling to let this chance escape them, Alyssa shouted out an order. "Ghost, Dracarys!"

Roaring his assent, Ghost unleashed his dragonfire and bathed the two dueling dragons as they tumbled through the air. With his protective wind barrier having been compromised by his brother, Viserion ignited as the wight he had become.

"Ghost, stop!" Alyssa shouted almost at the sight and as the flames faded, she breathed a sigh of relief to see that Rhaegal had survived. He was wounded, both from his fight with Viserion and Ghost's flames, but he was alive.

At least I didn't get all of Aunt Dany's sons killed. Alyssa thought as she finally gathered herself enough to use Meteor Swarm to incinerate the remainder of the javelin throwers massed below.

"Anyone see the Night King?" Alyssa asked the Queensguard once she was certain of Rhaegal's survival and with the threat of the javelin throwers eliminated, his immediate safety.

A chorus of negatives was returned by her Queensguard.

"Hells," Alyssa cursed. "Keep on the lookout!"

"Yes, your grace!"

Ignoring her men, she turned to her speaking horn.

"Rhaegal! We have lost the Night King, we'll have to focus on supporting the men on the ground and destroying any wight giants till we find him. Are you able to do that or do you need to leave the field?"

Alyssa was not entirely certain if the green scaled dragon understood her, at least not fully. Her Aunt's dragons were smart but just how intelligent they were was a subject of debate, they were definitely seemed less mentally capable than Ghost or at least were less able to express it in a way humans could observe. Nevertheless, Rhaegal seemed to catch the gist of her meaning and let out a defiant roar before winging off to strafe a nearby group of wights.

Guess, that's his answer.

"Ghost, stick close to him." Alyssa urged. "We need to support each other."

Ghost sent back an affirmative burst across their mental link even as he flew off in pursuit of the other dragon, breathing dragonfire on any unfortunate wight below him as he did.

As the Queen was fighting in the skies above, Greatjon Umber was trying to hold the outermost gates of the new fortifications that Queen Alyssa had created. An almost impossible task that was nade all the more difficult by the enemy's use of wight mammoths laden with rocks which they sent rushing towards the flaming ditch below the walls.

"Kill them! They're trying to fill the ditch!" Greatjon roared from where he stood atop the wall and his archers obeyed, shifting their fire onto the mammoths. But between the rocks and plates of makeshift armor that covered the undead beasts' bodies, they were heavily protected. Thus only two of the half dozen fell before they made it to the flaming moat.

Once there, the undead mammoths without a moment of hesitation sacrificed themselves by throwing their bodies into the ditch, whilst their undead flesh burned away quickly, the rocks they carried did not and proceeded to create a makeshift causeway over the flaming ditch. Three were enough to create the bridge the undead hordes needed and the last mammoth led the rest of its unnatural ilk across it and towards the gate. Where it immediately proceeded to batter the sturdy oak with its tusks acting as rams. All whilst other lesser wights swarmed over its bulk and attempted to use it as a makeshift ladder to climb atop the battlements.

"Defend yourselves!" The Greatjon ordered even as he smashed the head of a wight wearing Hornwood colors in with his dragonglass tipped warhammer, only for it to be replaced with another in Bolton livery.

This wight though had not been a mere man-at-arms. For standing before the Greatjon as a slavering undead abomination was no less than the plain faced, beardless Lord Roose Bolton whose distinctive pale eyes now shone with an unnatural blue light. Despite their acquaintance from being fellow lords of the North however, the Lord of House Umber showed the other man's animated corpse no respect whatsoever as he caved in its chest with a powerful blow from his hammer and allowing the dragonglass to work its magic to put it to rest once more.

"Good riddance!" The Greatjon spat as he impaled the wight that followed on the spike of his hammer. "Never liked Bolton in the first place!"

A great blaze from the direction of the gate caught the Greatjon's attention and a quick glance as he knocked the head off a wight showed that the wight mammoth acting as a ram had finally been dealt with thanks to a lucky fire arrow slipping through its armor and igniting its rotting flesh.

The sight of its rapidly disintegrating corpse elicited a cheer from the men but this was short lived. For even as it died, another three similar undead mammoths lumbered out of the increasingly violent blizzard and towards the gate.

"Hold your ground!" The Lord of Last Hearth shouted defiantly even as streams of dragonfire in the distance lit up the otherwise pure white sky. "We hold as long as we can!"

Garlan Tyrell watched his goodsister and the dragons successfully finish off the dragon wight in the distance, or at least that's what he could gather by the prolonged lack of any streams of blue dragonfire from the undead dragon as he looked out into the distance from atop one of the short earthen towers bracketing the gate to the second ring of defenses.

"Ser Garland!" One of the men he had assigned as a sentry shouted. "Northmen! The Northmen are retreating!"

"Already?" Garland said in alarm. They had barely begun fighting and already they had lost the first ring!?

"Relax Ser Garland," Lord Randall Tarly said from next to him as he looked through a Myrish eye. "It seems to be them rotating out their wounded."

Garland breathed a sigh of relief but nevertheless remained tense, even as Lord Tarly gave the order to lower the drawbridge, though the crudely strapped together set of roughly hewn logs barely warranted the name, to let the Northmen through.

"Should we send men to reinforce the first gate?" Garland suggested.

"No," Lord Tarly said with a shake of her head. "Not unless they request it, we must not reduce our strength. Not when our entire plan is centered around a defense in depth."

"I understand your frustration, Ser Garland." Dickon Tarly, Lord Tarly's second son and heir said commiseratingly. "However, Father is right."

Garland just nodded, even as she tightened the grip on his sword in frustration.

Half an hour later, Garland wished that sense of frustration had lasted longer as the army of wights began to smash into the gate he and his fellow Reachmen were guarding.

"Retreat!" Dickon shouted. "Maintain order and retreat!"

It was something easier said than done especially when dozens of giant ice spiders were leaping all over the place, taking men down. Some were even being ridden by White Walkers and the monsters were even more dangerous as they lashed out with their crystal weapons. And that was not even accounting for the seemingly unending horde of wights, the latter of which had included a group of undead mammoths that had filled the flaming ditch and smashed the gate open. Thankfully, they had been taken out by a Pyromancer's fire magic soon afterwards though it had made him a target for an ice spear that had killed him seconds afterwards.

Amazingly, though their lines while steadily being pushed back were largely holding, mainly Garland noted due to the defiant Northmen whose seeming unending bravery saw them hold despite everything.

"Die you monster!" The giant of a man that Garland knew to be Lord Umber screamed as he swung his warhammer at a White Walker which just gracefully spun out of the way.

Garland cut down the dozen or so wights between them as quickly as he could with his dragonglass sword, an improved more slender version of the standard club version of the dragonglass weapons, and rushed over to help the man.

He was too late though and the Other spun around another of Lord Umber's wild swings and got under the Northman's guard. Before the Lord of Last Hearth could react, the inhuman creature slid its crystal sword into the massive man's heart. All in one graceful move.

Garland was however able to avenge the man and ran the Other through moments afterwards, causing it to satisfyingly shatter into icy shards. Though he was much less pleased with having to stab Lord Umber's corpse with his sword almost immediately after that as it began to rise as a wight.

The second Tyrell son had no time to contemplate the matter however as his destruction of one of their ilk seemed to make him a target for the rest of the Others in the area and they all moved towards him.

"Need some help?" An older woman armed with a mace and dressed in the livery of House Mormont shouted at him as she arrived at his back with a fresh looking squad of men.

"I would appreciate it," Garland said as he parried a crystal lance and the overextension this caused in his opponent allowed him to send a thrust into its neck, shattering the White Walker.

"You're good." A younger woman who shared many of the older woman's features, her daughter perhaps, that was armed with a Valyrian steel sword said as she killed a Walker that had been trying to attack his exposed back.

"Thank you," Garland replied as he crossed blades with another of the monsters. "But perhaps we can continue this later?"

"Listen to the man Dacey," the older Mormont woman said as she smashed one of the Others with her mace and it fell to pieces as their kind did upon death.

"Yes, mother!"

Whilst Garland Tyrell and his Reachmen had largely been able to maintain order as they retreated, the same could not be said of all fronts on the increasingly chaotic battlefield. Thus it was in the wake of a disorganized rout of mainly Riverlands troops that had eventually replaced the Reachmen that Prince Oberyn Martell alongside his daughter Obara Sand and the Dornish spearmen they led found themselves encircled by a swarming mass of Wights as a pair of Others look on from atop their giant ice spider mounts and with their backs to the flaming ditch behind them.

"When I get my hands on those Rivermen, I will-"

"Save your anger for the enemy before us, daughter." Oberyn told Obara as he put a wight to rest with a thrust of his spear. "Besides if you want to get those cowards an accounting then we will need to survive this first."

"Yes, Father." His adult daughter returned with all the contrition of a scolded child even as she swept her spear at eye level and cut deeply into the exposed flesh of the helmetless faces of the otherwise armored wights in front of her, the magic of her dragonglass spear tip doing its work and putting them to rest despite the relatively minor wounds.

Despite their efforts though and those of their men, their little defensive circle just kept shrinking. It only took a small misjudgement after all to lose a man. Thrust a spear too far or be too slow in drawing it back and the wights would seize it by the shaft and pull a man to his death. Or they would allow one of their fellows to impale itself on a spear, rendering its wielder open for a moment in the confusion and allowing its fellows to murder him. There were a hundred and one ways for the wights to kill a man and they were employing all of them, except archery which thank the gods the undead seemed utterly incapable of. Even their spear throws were pathetically off target.

I can see why they need massed volleys just to harm the dragons. Oberyn thought as he knocked a spear wielding wight's weapon to the side with his own and pricked the unarmored underside of its arm, putting it to rest.

Though for all their weakness with ranged weapons, the wights were proving a truly deadly foe as they slowly but surely whittled down his men. So confident in victory were they that the two Others who commanded the batch attacking them had not even so much as deigned to do more than simply watch.

Arrogant bastards! Oberyn thought with disdain even as the circle of Dornish spears shrunk even more.

The arrogance proved to be the monsters' undoing however as suddenly there was a mighty explosion of a Wildfire from a catapult shot directly to the Others' right. It did not harm the creatures but it did immolate the entire mob of wights that had been protecting that flank and cleared the way for the charge of knights that poured out of the friendly lines just beyond.

"For the living!" Elia shouted at the hand of the charge, her lance lowered. Nymeria following close behind her and watching her back.

Both Others spun to meet the charge but they were too slow and his little Lady Lance impaled them both on her dragonglass studded lance, shattering them both even as her well trained filly trampled their spider mounts under its hooves. Immediately, the surrounding swarm of wights collapsed like the puppets whose strings had been cut that they were.

"Burn them!" Oberyn ordered even as he moved to welcome his daughters, Obara at this side. "Before another Other raises them again!"

His men hurried to obey, putting any corpse they could find to the torch. They were careful not to push any into the ditch though so as to avoid filling it in and making the job of the Others easier.

"Father, Obara, are you alright?" Elia asked in concern even as behind her the ragged looking line of defenders pushed forward beyond their position with the aid of more catapult fire and retook some ground, buying the family a bubble of safety within which they could talk.

"We are fine." Obara assured her. "What are you two doing here? Especially you, Elia?"

"You sound like my wife," Elia told her sister with a raised eyebrow. "Always trying to convince me to stay behind the frontlines."

"She is being as a wife should be," Oberyn told his exasperated daughter. "She merely worries about your safety."

"I know but- Wights!" Elia shouted. "The dead are rising!"

Oberyn spun around and discovered that his daughter was right. All around them, the dead were once more rising. Some were simply old wights that the men had not yet got around to setting alight but some, heartbreakingly, were his men that had previously fallen to the enemy.

"The dead are rising!" Oberyn shouted, repeating his daughter's call. "Be on guard!"

The skirmish that followed was the epitome of chaotic. With the living having broken formation after thinking they had secured the area already, it was all close and brutal combat. Just the kind where the wights excelled. Despite that, there were more living than the dead and they knew what to expect, so it was not quite as disastrous as it could be.

Still messy as the Nine Hells though, Oberyn thought as he used a sweep of his spear to force back a trio of adult wights. Putting two doing in the process as he cut them along the neck with his dragonglass spear. He had however not accounted for the child wight that ran through the legs of its adult counterparts, under the reach of his spear and into his guard before it proceed to stab his thigh with a knife.

"Argh!" Oberyn cried out as he dropped one hand from his spear and drawing a dragonglass dagger with his now free hand stabbed it into the child wight's head, all whilst he shoved his spear into the eye slit of the last of his adult attackers thus silencing them both.

The damage was done though. He knew that much as he pulled the dirty blade out from his leg and tossed it aside, his daughters forming him into a protective ring as he did so.

"It's poisoned." Oberyn gasped.

"What it didn't look-"

"Not all poisons are what we know as poison." Oberyn told Elia with a wince. "That knife which stabbed me was rusty and covered in dried viscera. It will almost certainly lead to infection."

"I will have Alys heal you later." Elia said as she pulled him onto the back of her horse. "Or one of the Red Priests, some of them have picked up some of her healing magic. For now let us get you to the healers."

Oberyn just offered her and the rest of his daughters a grim look.

It had taken some hard fighting, but eventually his daughters had led him and his men back into the relative safety of Winterfell's ancient walls where he and the other wounded were helped into its Great Hall which had been transformed into a makeshift hospital.

"Leave Father to me Sisters," Tyene said as she gestured for Elia and Nymeria to put him down on an empty cot. "You two are needed elsewhere."

"Go," Oberyn said when they both looked hesitant. "As much as I want you both safe, Tyene is right. Go!"

Still looking reluctant, his two daughters nevertheless obeyed.

As they did Tyene used her skill at healing, something she had picked up alongside her formidable skill with poisons, to examine him.

"The wound is deep but it avoided anything vital." His blonde daughter said as she reached for a bottle of what he could only imagine was alcohol which she poured over the wound, causing Oberyn to give an involuntary hiss of pain. "But it will hamper your movement. There will be no more fighting for you today, Father."

"I refuse to be useless," Oberyn said defiantly. "If I cannot fight, then bandage me up and I will assist the healers. I do not need my full range of motion for that."

Tyene looked torn but a quick look at her fellow overworked healers made up her mind.

"Very well," his daughter said with a sigh. "But do not overdo it, Father. Your injuries are not minor."

"I'll be fine." Oberyn assured her even as she began bandaging his leg.

The rest of the battle was a blur and Oberyn eventually got separated from his daughter even as he began to feel himself burning up. Perhaps there was a poison on that blade besides the rust and dried offal, for if this was an infection it was coming too fast.

Some magic perhaps. Oberyn thought as he bandaged the deep gash across the chest of his latest patient, a Riverman from House Darry. Not that it matters.

Ignoring his growing weakness, he continued doing his part to secure the future of Ellaria and his daughters. Of Doran and Dorne. Of the living.

I will play my part to the very end. Oberyn told himself. I will not be a burden.

It was with this last thought that the Red Viper collapsed whilst moving from one patient to the next. He heard cries of alarm and someone calling out his name, but only faintly as his world disappeared and was replaced with darkness.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Grey Worm commanded his Unsullied brothers as they held the gate into the last of the new defensive rings. A task they had proven most adept at as their disciplined formations successfully fended off wave after wave of wights and even a few Others.

If this continues, we might just hold. The Unsullied commander thought hopefully.

"Giants! The giants are coming!" One of the many men retreating into the inner ring to regroup shouted and Grey Worm cursed his earlier thought for jinxing them.

"You heard the man!" He shouted at his brothers. "Ready yourselves! Remember your training!"

As five wight giants stalked out of the Others' conjured blizzard decked in crudely forged armor and armed with massive spears of ice in hand, Grey Worm could not help but think his earlier words tasted like ashes. Nothing in their hellish training prepared them for this. Nonetheless, his brothers did not break not even as the giants began sweeping whole blocks of them to their deaths. Even in the face of such, they doggedly jabbed their dragonglass spears at the massive wights seeking out chinks in their armor.

At last, one of the giants fell but already Grey Worm had lost a third of his men.

Dammnit, I need to retreat. He realized bitterly.

Just as he was about to give the order however a trumpeting warcry sounded behind him and suddenly eight living giants, two riding mammoths and the others running on foot, surged out of the gate swinging massive axes lined with dragonglass shards. In the face of their fury, their undead kindred stood no chance and within moments of vicious hand to hand fighting they were put to rest at last.

"More wight giants!" Someone shouted and Grey Worm's slightly buoyed mood plummeted once more.

"Form a line! Reform our formations!" He shouted as the first of the wight giants came into view as they tossed their ice spears, killing a pair of their living kin.

Ten of them!? Grey Worm counted as cold fear gripped him as the monsters lumbered forward, slowing drawing new spears from the quivers they wore on their backs. How can we hold against that!?

Salvation came as a green shadow suddenly burst out of the snowy whiteness of the sky and Rhaegal unleashed his green dragonfire on the wights incinerating them.

Unsullied were too disciplined to cheer but their giant and human allies cheered hard enough to make up for it at the sight. Even more so as Rhaegal swept his flame across the fallen sections of the defensive ring, silencing thousands of wights in the process.

Grey Worm, pull back into the inner ring. Missandei's voice entered his mind suddenly courtesy of the Message spell she had learned.

"What? Why?" The Unsullied commander muttered aloud, too confused to keep the telepathic conversation purely mental.

The enemy has breached the walls elsewhere. The Naathi scribe told him with surprising calm. You need to fall back before you are cut off.

Curses. Understood. Grey Worm sent back even as he began to shout the order for a retreat.

Robb Stark stood behind one of the barricades set up in the Wintefell's courtyard as he saw streams of men pouring through the South Gate and past him as they hurried to regroup. It had started with a trickle at first but as the battle dragged on, it had become a steady river of men as they lost one section of the outer walls after another to the relentless enemy.

Soon as Lord of Winterfell and commander of the defense of the castle proper, it would be up to him to hold the tide. Looking at the many barricades set up in the castle's courtyard he felt some hope. They were manned mainly by Stark men but had been bolstered by men from all over Westeros that had fallen back from positions beyond the walls. There were even groups of Unsullied and Dothraki among them. Most notably however, and perhaps ironically considering the history between the North and the Iron Islands, most of these non-Stark men were Ironborn archers from House Harlaw. If the people of the Seven Kingdoms, so long divided, could now stand united then surely they stood a chance at victory.

Despite this hope though, he was not without complaints.

"I should up in the guardhouse for the South Gate." Robb gripped to his wife. "The men there are in the most danger, I should stand with them."

"Fighting alongside our men on the battlefield is admirable but being foolishly reckless is not," his beautiful warrior woman of a wife told him chidingly.

"Listen to your wife, Lord Stark." Alys' goodfather, Lord Rodrik Harlaw said, as he eyed the South Gate warily. "My gooddaughter would be quite upset if you get yourself killed, especially if you die because you were being stupid."

Robb sputtered in indignation even as Lyra laughed. Even the traitorous Grey Wind barked humorously at his expense.

The levity did not last as suddenly something massive literally shot through the South Gate. Robb glanced at the projectile as it landed and saw to his horror that it was one of the massive ice spears the Others had equipped their remaining wight giants with.

"Robb! They're coming through!" Lyra shouted and Robb turned back to the gate to see wights, including freshly risen ones, pouring through the breach in the gate.

Thankfully by the sound of a blazing flame just outside the gate, the giant had been taken out.

Now if only we managed that sooner. Robb thought even as he raised his voice to rally his men.

"For Winterfell and the North! For the living! Fight to the last!" Robb shouted at the top of his voice as the first wave of wights slammed into the barricades in front of the South Gate and his brave men-at-arms fought them off with their dragonglass spears whilst his archers and mages sent flaming projectiles to thin their ranks.

Two more waves came and went and Robb was starting to feel confident they could hold when suddenly the Night King himself emerged through the ruined South Gate and with a wave of his hand sent a blast of frigid air that sent an entire line of defenders flying.

"Sard!" Robb cursed even as he spun towards a nearby mage. "Use Message and inform my sister that the Night King is here now!"

He barely finished speaking before the wights reached the barricade he was hunkering behind and one scrambled over the edge, forcing him to silence the animated corpse of the Reacher with a swing of Ice. At the same time Grey Wind had pinned another, allowing Lyra to bash its snarling head in with her dragonglass studded mace. For his part Lord Rodrik was shooting arrows downrange at the wights so fast that Robb could barely keep track.

"Hurry!" He urged the mage as he turned to join his wife and the other defenders in fending off the attack.

Alyssa was thinning the wights' numbers by immolating the rear of their forces. A task that between the dragonfire of the two remaining dragons and her magic they had managed to make great progress at, for although the enemy had broken one defensive line after another. Their plan had worked and the Army of the Dead had been slowed down, giving time for them to be burned to ashes. As such she estimated that less than twenty thousand wights remained whereas she still had over forty thousand men still able to fight.

Your grace, a flustered sounding man said suddenly as he contacted her with a Message spell. The Night King is in Winterfell! I repeat! The Night King is in Winterfell!

Understood. I'm on my way. Alyssa returned even as Ghost was already turning towards the castle.

"Rhaegal!" Alyssa shouted through the speaking horn. "Stay here and continue with what we were doing"

The green dragon gave a questioning roar, but Alyssa would have none of it.

"Stay!" She barked and her Aunt's dragon let out a whine but obeyed, turning to unleash a burst of his dragonfire on a particularly thick block of wights.

Meanwhile, Ghost neared the castle and was forced to suddenly climb sharply as a volley of giant ice spears were thrown his way.

"You won't keep us away with just that, Night King." Alyssa declared as she primed her magic. "Meteor Swarm!"

As the conjured balls of blazing flame created by her spell fell to earth and incinerated what she hoped to be the last of the javelin throwers, Ghost dove down towards Winterfell. Or more specifically the Night King as he made his way through the Godswood towards the crypts.

"Dracarys!" Alyssa shouted, a second behind Ghost unleashing his breath and bathing the Night King and his escorts in dragonfire. The wights were burned away into nothing and even the Others stumbled around as if injured, but the Night King was unscathed. His only response being to look up at Ghost as he circled around for another attack was raising his hand and conjuring a massive ice spear that he proceeded to toss at them.

Her dragon tried his best to evade the unexpected attack but the frozen projectile still tore through his right wing, completely shattering the Mage Armor that Alyssa had clad him in as it did so. Thankfully the wound was minor.

We can't win this from the sky. Alyssa thought with a frown as Ghost pulled away from the Night King. And I can't risk Ghost by landing.

"We'll have to face him on the ground." Alyssa declared as she began to unstrap herself.

"Your grace, you can't be serious!?" Loras shouted in alarm.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Alyssa shot back as she continued unstrapping herself and causing Loras to growl in exasperation but he did not issue another protest. "Ghost, bring us close but watch out for those spears."

Ghost roared his affirmative, swerving to avoid another ice spear thrown his way by the Night King. He breathed a stream of dragonfire and as he passed, Alyssa leapt off his back with her Queensguard all of them under the effect of her Levitate spell.

"Ghost!" She shouted at her dragon as they floated down to the ground. "Go support the defenders. I will handle the Night King."

Her friend growled his frustration but sent a burst of assent in reply and winged away.

Moments later, Alyssa and her Queensguard landed directly in front of the Night King and his Others inside the clearing in the godswood Ghost had created with his dragonfire.

"Keep the other Walkers at bay," Alyssa at bay as she drew Dark Sister. "I will deal with the Night King myself."

Ser Raynald Westerling, one of the commanders charged with leading the Westerlands contingent to the War of the Long Night by his liege, Lord Tyrion, led a group of his House's men-at-arms out of the courtyard where the fighting was turning in their favor as a squad of Red Priests and Alchemists arrived to lend the aid of their fire magic to the mainly Northern defenders alongside a mostly fresh contingent of dismounted Valemen knights.

Everyone had seen the Queen and her Queensguard leap off her dragon in the godswood and the only imaginable reason she would do that was to face the Night King. There was no way in the Nine Hells Raynald would let her face that monster with just her Queensguard though, thus he led a squad of his House's men-at-arms to her aid.

It was easier said than done though and he and his men had to kill their way through a throng of wights barring their way before they finally burst into a clearing in the godswood where the Queensguard had formed a ring around the duel between the Queen and the Night King, protecting her from the dozens of Others trying to break through to assist their monarch.

"For the Queen!" Raynald shouted bravely as with his dragonglass sword raised high, he charged into the fray.

He and his men caught the Others by surprise it seemed and Raynald quickly shattered one with a powerful overhead slash, though its fellow on the right quickly tried to skewer him with a crystal lance that required him to back away.

This however left it open to an arrow from the red headed Wildling - Free Folk! They call themselves Free Folk! - Queensguard that shattered it as well.

This bought him a breather and he used it to survey his surroundings a little. He was pleased to see men were fighting hard against the Others and more importantly, that more of the living were coming to their aid.

"Help the Witch Queen!" The giant of a man that led the Free Folk roared as he and a band of his warriors ran towards them. They weren't alone as just behind them a group of men in plate armor in the livery of Houses Tully and Harlaw ran in from another direction.

"For the Queen!" The Tully and Harlaw men shouted as they slammed into the Others from the flank moments after the Free Folk.

Their arrival marked the end of Raynald's reprieve however as a White Walker seemingly floated away from a Free Folk warrior's spear and in front of him. Screaming a wordless war cry, he charged the monster and rejoined the fray.

"Flame Blade." Alyssa cast, channeling the spell through Dark Sister and setting the ancient Targaryen blade ablaze even as she raised it in just in time to block a slash from the Night King and his conjured blade of crystalline ice.

"Fire Shield! Frost Armor!" She cast on herself, enshrouding herself in an aura of flame and a suit of plate armor made of ice even as she used the still active power of her Levitate spell to float out of the stalemate created by their locked swords.

The Night King stumbled forward at this and Alyssa took the chance to hit him with a Fire Bolt. Much to her chagrin, he merely raised a hand at the incoming flaming mote and cancelled it out with an arrow of frost not unlike her own Frost Bolt spell.

He capitalized on the momentary distraction as she made this observation however to spin on his heel in a way a human never could to come in at her from the side. If she had not been literally floating off the ground thanks to Levitate she would not have managed to parry the blow. As both their swords were out of position, they both switched to magic to attempt to exploit the opening.

"Flame Strike!" Alyssa cast, consuming the Night King in a pillar of white hot flame even as he sent a blast of spiraling frigid winds that send her flying back though she quickly corrected her flight and floated to the ground once more.

As her pillar of fire faded, it revealed the Night King looked just slightly worse for wear. Where he seemed completely immune to damage up till now this time it seemed his durability had reached its limits as his inhuman blue skin showed patches of blisters and discoloration that might have been burns. The leader of the Others touched these wounds with an expression that Alyssa could only describe as shock. It seemed it had been a long time since the monster had ever been injured and as the thin panes of almost invisible ice that covered his body fell to the ground and shattered, Alyssa could easily imagine that was the case.

So that is how he has avoided injury so far. Alyssa thought as the incredibly magic dense sheets of thin ice that served as the Night King's personal magical armor shattered.

Even as she made this observation, she also simultaneously glanced at their surroundings and saw to her satisfaction that her Queensguard had formed a ring around her duel with the Night King and were holding the rest of the Others at bay. An endeavor in which they were helped along with by men from across the varied armies under her command. Ironborn fought side by side with Riverman, Northmen with Free Folk, Unsullied stood shoulder to shoulder with Dothraki. All the armies of the living were fighting as one against their common enemy.

"See that, Night King?" Alyssa could not help but taunt. "See how you have united us?"

The Night King simply sneered and in a burst of supernatural speed charged at her. Alyssa however simply floated above him, spinning around in midair as she did so thus allowing her to lash out at his exposed back. The Night King spun around too, managing to block her slash but a physical attack had never been Alyssa's plan.

"Fire Bolt!" She cast, launching a flaming bolt shooting out of Dark Sister that slipped through their crossed blades and hit her opponent directly in his face.

The blow had the Night King stumbling back, though much to Alyssa's disappointment he did not howl in pain instead maintaining the perpetual silence that seemed to characterize its kind. Worse, even as it staggered from his head being on fire, it managed to swing its sword and unleash a gale full of razor sharp hale that blasted her away from her but more importantly sent the deadly projectiles flying at her men.

"Wall of Fire!" Alyssa cast hastily, creating a protective barrier between the duel and her men.

Her focus on her men was costly though as she was distracted long enough for the Night King not only to recover but to counterattack. Charging at her with supernatural speed once more he thrust his sword at her. Alyssa, despite her distraction, was able to float back and avoid getting stabbed but she was caught completely off guard as the length of the leader of the Others' blade suddenly grew as it transformed into a lance.

Her armor slowed the blade down just enough for her to desperately spin away but not before it had grazed her arm and causing her to hiss in pain. A wound that reeked of his hostile magic.

"Purge!" Alyssa cast one of her rarely used spells, causing a golden aura to surround her body for a moment that cleansed it of whatever foul magic that the Night King had tried to curse her with.

She was not done however.

"Regenerate!" She cast, enhancing her natural healing ability tremendously which almost instantly closed the shallow wound.

That was all the breather the Night King was willing to allow her however and he blurred towards her once more and tried to impale her on his lance, but even as he moved Alyssa cast another spell.

"Haste!" Alyssa incanted, casting a spell she had learned specifically for the possibility of a direct confrontation with the Night King.

With her movement speed and reaction time enhanced by the spell, she could now move at a speed that matched her opponent and so she easily evaded his first thrust but that was not all she did, chopping down with Dark Sister she cut the lance in half. This shocked the Night King and he pulled back but Alyssa did not let him as she pressed the attack. To his credit, he brought up his weapon in time to block even as the lance was still midway through reshaping itself back into a sword.

What followed was a exchange of blades so quick and so furious that to the human and even the White Walker observers seemed more like a blur than anything else as both combatants pushed their magically enhanced bodies to the absolute limits to gain the upper hand.

He's a better swordsman than me. Alyssa noted as she barely blocked a slash that sought to decapitate her and counterattacked with a thrust aimed at where her opponent's heart would be should he have been a human, only for it to be parried. But with the help of Haste and Levitate we are evenly matched.

That was a little too generous of an assessment to be honest as the Night King's blade slipped through her guard and stabbed her shoulder.

Okay, even with them I am outmatched. Alyssa confessed to herself as she pulled away quickly and poured magical power into her Regenerate spell which caused the wound to seemingly boil away even as she used Purge to cleanse her body of the taint that was inherent to her opponent's weapon.

Pressing the attack, the Night King released one hand off the hilt of his sword and conjured a second blade but Alyssa simply followed suit and used Flame Blade to create a scimitar of pure fire that blocked it. With a look of irritation on his face, he dismissed the second blade and Alyssa did the same for hers. He was slightly faster in returning to a two handed grip on his weapon and it allowed him to unleash a few powerful cuts that Alyssa barely blocked before and which forced her back but she recovered quickly enough that he was unable to exploit it fully. Thus things quickly returned to the stalemate.

My body is starting to show the strain of so much enhancement magic though. Alyssa thought as she felt her body temperature begin to rise well beyond what pure exertion would have caused. I need to end this.

"Earth Control." Alyssa cast, turning the ground under the Night King's feet into quicksand.

This caught the inhuman monarch completely by surprise and his attack faltered entirely. Worse for him as he struggled to make sense of what happened, his guard was full of holes. Thus it was that Alyssa could send Dark Sister thrusting at its heart. The leader of the Others recovered enough to attempt to parry, but this was merely a feint and moving with the full effect of Haste Alyssa changed targets and instead thrust downwards into her opponent's thigh. His sword completely out of position, the Night King could do nothing as the ancient Valyrian steel sword of House Targaryen pierced the flesh of his right leg.

He swung his sword wildly in retaliation but Alyssa had floated out of the way. It was too little too late anyways as his sword was the first thing that shattered into harmlessly particles of ice, soon followed by the rest of his body. The other White Walkers followed him into death, each of them exploding into icy chunks and with their demise the wights too collapsed into the inanimate corpses they always should have been.

"I did it." Alyssa said disbelievingly as she stared at the pile of slush that had been the Night King. "I did it! We won!"

Her exuberant cry was soon picked up by the rest of the living and soon all of Winterfell erupted into cheers. Even the weather seemed to share their joy as the perpetual blizzard lifted and the rays of dawn light pierced through the dissipating clouds.

They had plenty of reasons to celebrate, the Second Long Night had been won!

Done!

I was sorely tempted to take the lives of even more characters in this chapter than I actually did but in the end I just couldn't bring myself to do so. Hopefully that does not rob the battle of its gravity. I was aiming for an epic battle and am reasonably sure I managed it somewhat, though if you disagree feel free to let me know. Do explain why you think so though so I might improve when writing such battles in the future.

That final duel between Alyssa and the Night King was hard to write. I wanted to show that the Night King was a serious threat but maintain that Alyssa was roughly evenly matched with him. It was a delicate balancing act that I'm not sure I got right. Hopefully I did. Either way, I hope it was enjoyable to read regardless.

Well, that's the climax folks. Only the epilogue left.

Till then hüvasti!