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We're really getting close to the last battle now, so I hope you are as excited as I am.

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Jon

Daenerys had refused to talk to him in the last days. Honestly he did not care. Drogon was too weak to carry a rider so the Queen of the South had to ride a horse back to Winterfell. Jon had her under guard and she was in no position to make demands or protests. It was very clear even for her, Jon guessed, that all the men blamed her for what happened. The Long Night was upon them because of her.

Jon could have gone back to Winterfell directly on the back of Rhaegal it would only have taken a day at most. But he did not want to place the burden of escorting Daenerys on Edd's shoulder. His friend did not need to have more stress imposed on him.

For now, the dragon queen was harmless but Jon actually feared the return to Winterfell. There, she would have her army, her Hand, her advisors and her power. The last thing they needed was to fight a war among themselves before the arrival of the dead. He took the resolve of talking with her in the evening, he needed to break the ice between them, it was obvious he was saner than her so he had to put his own anger to the side.

He entered her ill-made tent, borrowed from the Watch and discover the dragon queen brooding on her furs. "How are you feeling? How is your arm?" He asked trying to sound empathic.

"The dragons are my children… Do you know how much it hurts to lose a child?" She changed the subject.

"If it is anything like losing a father or a brother, I can only imagine your pain." He did not think of Robb or Ned often, but the death of Rickon still stung, he could have saved him.

"They are real… I should have listened to you. I should never have gone alone." At least she seemed repentant.

"You should have." He confirmed, no need for false comforting words. "But now you know and you can help us defeat them."

"How can you believe we will defeat them? They killed Viserion so easily!"

"We do not have a choice!" Jon countered. "Otherwise humans will disappear. And beyond the Wall they took you by surprise, next time you will be prepared."

She sighed. Deep down, Jon was afraid she would abandon them now but thankfully this did not look to be her plan. "Do you have a strategy?"

"Their army feeds and grows on the dead, men, women, old, cripple, anyone is good to be a wight. So, as soon as we arrive we will send those who cannot fight to Moat Cailin. Then, we need to fortify Winterfell… our strongest asset is distance to the wights. I was thinking of a first 'wall' of fire made of wood and straw that we could light from a distance. Then, pits with shards of dragon glass. By the time they reach the walls of the castle many will have been defeated. We cannot face them in the open." Daeron explained. "Then, we will throw all we can from the top, flaming barils, we used those against the wildlings at the Wall and also, I will see if it is possible to put dragon glass shards in baril that will explode when they touch the ground if we throw them. It should take out some. Afterwards… if we do not manage to kill the Night King by then… People will have to fight directly."

"What will be the role of the dragons?" Daenerys asked.

"We will need to take down Viserion." He saw in her eyes that she did not understand, so he explained. "The Night King will rise Viserion from the dead, that's what he does. We believe this is how he will take down the Wall."

The dragon queen shed a single tear. "So, that's why they all seem to hate me now…" She commented. Jon could only nod.

Myrcella

Fifteen days… Her husband who had promised to come back in three or four days had not been seen in the last fifteen days. Myrcella could not help but draw a parallel with Trystane. Sansa and Arya tried to cheer her up. Their main argument was that if Jon had died, Ghost – his white wolf – would have known and alerted them. The young queen was skeptical. Sure, the wolf looked special but she doubted it was that special.

So, she threw herself in work. She managed most of the estate on her own, and did not really need Sansa anymore though she enjoyed the woman's company. She sparred with Arya and Brienne. She spoke with Jaime, even made some plans for the defense of the castle. She ordered pits to be digged around the walls for instance. Still, the dread was present and not going anywhere. It was strange, she had nowhere as strong feelings for Jon Targaryen as she had had for Trystane Martell but still she did not wish him ill.

Finally, in the late afternoon, a watcher on the walls spotted dragons. Myrcella and Sansa rushed to the walls where Arya was already waiting for them.

"I can see only two dragons." The youngest Stark daughter said. Indeed, there was one green shadow and one black but no sign of the golden one. They were still too far to see if there were riders and is they were well. They could also see the possible explanation for her husband's lateness. It appeared there were people on horseback just underneath the dragons. They looked like brothers of the Night's Watch, or the idea Myrcella had of them, they were all dressed in black. Could this mean that they left the Wall?

The dragons sped up and landed right outside of the gates. Drogon looked hurt and had no rider. "Look, it's Jon." Arya pointed out. Myrcella let out a breath she did not know she had been holding. The three women went down the steps and into the yard to greet the King.

Arya was first to reach him. She launched herself in his arms and drowned him in question. He was quick to clarify the situation, Daenerys was slightly wounded like her dragon and coming with the sworn brothers on horseback. Viserion had been killed by the Night King. The Wall was abandoned and they needed to prepare. Then, her husband moved on to Sansa and kissed her cheek. "Did you order the pits?" Myrcella heard him whisper to his sister, or cousin. Sansa shook her head and looked pointedly at Myrcella. She saw her husband's eyes widen.

He came to her and she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "You did well my Queen." He said, slightly impressed.

"I am glad it pleased you, your Grace." She said. Her formality seemed to wound him.

"Myrcella…" His voice was pleading but she was not sure what he wanted her to say. "… I'm sorry I was away for so long."

It made her smile. "It is forgiven. I am just happy you came back safe and sound." This time, she gave him a real kiss. He nodded slightly but could not say more as the brothers of the Night's Watch and Queen Daenerys arrived through the gates.

Sansa

Arya, Jon, the dragon Queen, Tyrion, Davos, Jaime, Brienne, Tormund, Myrcella and herself were packed in the Lord's solar of Winterfell. It had been her solar not long ago. Sansa was sure she was not the only one to feel the shift in the politics of Winterfell. With the death of her golden dragon, Queen Daenerys looked defeated and left the stage completely open for Jon. She only nodded from time to time, adding her approval to what the King in the North said. Jon had a plan, Sansa did not have the strategic mind to say if it was a good or a bad one. It was as good as any, she guessed. The threat they faced had only been faced once, in the Age of Heroes and there was no recollection of what had happened then.

Her role, she was happy with. She would lead those who could not fight to Moat Cailin the very next day. At first, it was not what Jon had intended. He wanted Myrcella to lead, as should have been her place as Queen. She would have none of it. She wanted to fight. She argued for it and received the help of Arya, Brienne and even Davos.

"I've seen her fight brother, she's good." Arya vouched for her. "You would be stupid to make her leave. I also take the opportunity to say that if you want me to leave as well, this is not happening." Myrcella and Arya had shared a smirk.

"The Queen is a good warrior." Ser Davos had intervened. "The men have seen her train, she would be an encouraging sight on the battlefield."

In the end, Jon had given in. Sansa would leave with Davos and Tyrion who had nothing to do so close to a fight, they were no warriors. Tyrion was not happy about this, he had always been a control freak after all. But Jon had been firm and Daenerys to everyone's surprise had declared that they would have to do what the King in the North decided. Sansa had not understood everything that had happened to her alone beyond the Wall but it was clear it had broken her. She had no more fight in her. She only followed Jon now, Sansa would not say she would miss the old Daenerys.

Or any Daenerys for that matter she realised the next morning before leaving. But she would miss Myrcella, Jon and Arya. Bran as well, he insisted on staying. He had told them after the meeting when only the Stark children remained that even though he was a cripple, he believed that he was the Night King's target. So he would stay and act as target.

After Bran had told them of his decision, the young lady had gone to the Godswood. She needed the guidance. Theon had found her there. He had been discreet in the last weeks, he did not feel at ease around Jon still. He had asked what was wrong and, after she explained, promised to keep an eye on Bran at all times.

It was hard to leave him as well, they had gone through so much together. But now they were leaving. Most of the women, children and old people of the Wintertown with barely a few supplies, they did not have time to pack more.

Tyrion

For the first time, Tyrion Lannister had real doubts about his queen. Sure, she was headstrong, stubborn and sometimes cruel, but for the good reasons, he felt. She was ill-prepared for Westeros, did not know how to behave in Court, barely remembered the history of the Seven Kingdoms and continuously insulted high lords with her lack of political mind, but she could learn. Yet, the death of Viserion made him seriously question his choice of allegiance. She had been incredibly rash and stupid if Jon… Targaryen could be believed and then, it had destroyed her, reducing her to silence and leaving the northerners to take all the decisions. Her lack of leadership even caught him in, being Hand of the Queen to a mute, powerless Queen rendered him mute and powerless in the mind of others. So their battle plan, the plan to save humanity, had been left to a former bastard, his young niece and his former child-bride advised by a smuggler and a wildling. What could go wrong? Tyrion did not pretend to be a great strategist, but at least he had participated in a real battle at the Blackwater. 'King' Jon had lost the Battle of the Bastards and Sansa had only one with blunt force. As to Myrcella, she could scheme but had never fought a war.

And yet, here they were; he would be sent away like the useless cripples, children and women. He did not ask for much in life, only that people see that he had a mind. He took great pride in his mind, but he was shushed like a child anyway. It did not sound good for his future. He was overly confident that the army at Winterfell would defeat the dead, since apparently they were real. His presence would have only helped to prevent useless death, he thought, he usually saw what others could not see after all. But then what? Would Daenerys regain her spirit? If not, what could he do? Because if she was truly broken then she was not fit to sit the Iron Throne anymore whether she still wanted it or not. They would have to place someone else there. Tyrion was sure that if Jon Targaryen ascended the Throne, it would not end well for him… Well, maybe he overreacted, but he would be sent away from the politics of the capital and he did not want that. Jon did not trust him, and he felt he could not count on his niece to vouch for him, not after how mad she had been in their last discussions. But then who else could sit the Throne? He doubted Tommen would want it back and it was not as if he could take it for himself. He was not so delusional as to hope the people of the Seven Kingdoms would welcome a dwarf as King.

For now, he was stuck in the column bound for Moat Cailin and led by Sansa Stark. If the dead did not catch them, he was sure his former wife's hurried pace would kill them. They had taken as many horses as they could, the living fighting the dead would not need them apparently. But still, some women walked on foot, they slowed them so Lady Sansa had the idea to install rounds for the women. Women walked for about eight hours, then they mounted the horses of another group of women and on and on they went. They only slept for three to four hours per night. Usually, it took a fortnight to rally Moat Cailin. Sansa meant to do it in eight days, she had told him on one of the rare occasions they had talked.

Myrcella

Jon was not pleased with her staying, that much was clear. That night, late after their war council, he came to bed next to her but immediately turned his back on her and blew the candle. Myrcella tried to ignore the uncomfortable silence and get some much needed sleep, but his anger seemed to creep on her and prevent her from getting any rest.

"Jon?" She murmured not wanting to wake him if he was indeed asleep. Her husband turned back on his back, indicating to her that he was indeed awake. "I'm sorry."

"Whether you are sorry or not there is nothing I can say or do that will make you go to safety." He sighed with anger.

"You know it is best if I stay, for the morale of troops. I can promise to not do anything rash if it would ease your mind, your Grace." She muttered, unsure of why he was so angry if he knew there was no choice.

"Yes, it is best if you stay, but it does not mean I like that you're staying." Jon replied. I told you of Ygritte, did I not?" She nodded, she remembered his dead wildling lover. "She was a spearwife, a warrior woman of the Free Folks. Nothing I could say or do would have kept her out of a fight. In the end, she died in a fight and I felt so powerless."

"You're afraid that I will die in a fight too." She deduced. "But then, shouldn't I be mad that you are fighting as well? You could die in this fight too. Am I to prevent you from staying?" She ironized.

"It is not the same…" He started.

"Why? Because I'm a woman and you're a man? So I should wait behind the walls to see if you survive or not? And then if you don't come back I could also raise your child believing that you were a hero who protected me while I sat there and did nothing?" She got angry as well.

"Are you…?" He turned to her with wide eyes.

"No, I don't think so, it's too early to tell anyway." Maybe her example was not as appropriate as she had thought.

"Myrcella…" He growled. "If there is any chance…"

"Then what? You are going to throw me in a cell and get rid of one of your fighting women? You won't do anything. I am not pregnant." At least she hoped. "Though now that I think of it maybe it would be better if I was. That way there would be a chance that your line does not end when you and your reckless aunt go get yourselves killed in the sky!" She shouted now.

"You're as afraid as I am." Jon realised.

"Of course I'm afraid! I know what fighting means! I'm not some stupid maiden Jon… and I don't want to lose another husband, just like you do not want to lose another lover." She told him, gradually calming down.

"You're more than my lover, you're my wife." He stated.

"Yeah…" She scoffed. "We're going to pretend like that is what you wanted."

"I like you Myrcella, for real." He revieled.

Myrcella did not know what to answer to that. She liked him too in fact. So, she let him kiss her temples, her cheeks and her forehead. Then she directed him to kiss her lips. She guided him above her while getting rid of her clothes. She was barely aware that he took away her own night shift. They were both exhausted but they had sex all the same.

Ser Davos

Queen Myrcella had bought them some precious time by having pits already digged. Davos took leadership of the preparation team, splitting it into three groups. One installed the shards in the pits, another created the frame for the fire wall – this one was led by Ser Jaime – and the last created the barils, the King himself had given the directions. There had no objective as to how many they needed to make, same for the weapons. They would just keep going until the army of the dead arrived or the material supply ran dry.

The men were being trained by the great Brienne of Tarth with Arya Stark. The Queen often joined them as did Tormund, the funny leader of the Free Folks. Davos would say when the White Walkers did come, they would be as ready as they could have been… But then, Davos was no warrior nor a commander. He had no mind for strategy in his opinion. In fact, of the two Hands that had come to Winterfell, he thought he would have been the one to be sent with the children and cripples and Tyrion Lannister who would have stayed and prepared for war.

But his King and Queen trusted him more than they trusted Tyrion. After their daily evening war council, Davos had mustered up the courage to ask the Queen why.

"My uncle knew how unstable and rash Queen Daenerys was." She had whispered back. "He knew when she held my first husband for too long. He knew when she separated me from my daughter. He knew when she forced me to marry again. How could I trust him after that? I do not know you very well, Ser Davos, but you have never caused me harm or gave me a reason to doubt you." Davos realised he had taken a liking in the little Queen. She reminded him of Shireen sometimes. And he truly hoped that she would live through the Long Night. He hoped most of them would live through the Long Night in fact. He had doubts about the dragon queen maybe…

Do you guys have expectations about the Long Night in this story?

Next time: the battle begins!