Chapter Nine: Invasion

Jon POV-Three Months Later-Winterfell

Jon sat in his solar, sipping a goblet of wine as he thought back on his trip home after Sansa's wedding and what he was planning now. While he had been away, Bran had been in charge with the help of his mother. It seemed that while under his influence their stock of supplies along with food and drink had significantly increased. Not only that, but he had fairly judged many cases brought before him and kept their people hard at work. Perhaps it was time for Bran to have his own castle to rule over? Gods knew the poor boy couldn't do much else. It was something he would carefully consider, as intelligence was a talent he did not want to waste on mere forts and castles of no importance.

The supplies being topped off was a very good thing, given the current plans strewn across his desk. Unfortunately, they were going to become low once more. He was currently planning to attack the Iron Islands, to remove the threat once and for all, with the help of the Martells and Baratheons, both of whom agreed to bring their armies and navies North as soon as may be. Knowing that this would lower their supplies drastically, Jon drafted a second letter to Lord Mace Tyrell. He did not know what the truth was of why they had not answered his marriage proposal even to refuse, but surely they would not be able to refuse coin in exchange for supplies.

After writing and sending the letter with his offer, Jon thought about Pyke. Once they took the castle, something Poseidon no doubt would help with, he would have to choose a new Lord of Pyke. If only he had a child of Poseidon to do this with. The more he thought about it though, the more he came back to his own conclusion that Bran should have his own castle, and what better castle to ensure loyalty of than one that would be masters of the sea?

It was matters like this that occupied Jon's mind for hours further as he sat there, staring into the warm fire.

2 Months Later

The ships were coming at them swiftly. It had taken two months, but ships from the North, the Baratheons, and Dorne had been put together with King Stannis, Jon, and Prince Oberyn leading them. Poseidon was on their side, hiding on his ship as if a navigator. In reality he had been helping ensure they had not lost a single ship, an unheard-of feat when sailing and especially when facing the krakens.

Euron Greyjoy led the opposition. Vicious man, Euron, and said to be undefeated on the sea. The enemy had almost a hundred long ships in their navy, while they only had about eighty in their own. Nonetheless, Jon remained optimistic. They may be outnumbered, but they had the god of the seas on board with them. Jon, himself, had trained with Poseidon, and Stannis had defeated the Iron born once before himself. They outranked them in terms of experience. He was certain that his army far outstripped theirs on land, though they had yet to be tested on sea.

Stannis' men had some sea fighting experience no doubt, and the dornish would be fantastic infantry and cavalrymen, but on the sea and on this ship, the iron born would have the advantage. Once they crushed these ships, however, the enemy would be easy prey when they landed. Jon braced himself as their lead ships drew close, no doubt intending to board after useless hours of trying to ram them or burn their ships only to find the sea wouldn't allow them to do so. Poseidon's doing, of course, though he could only interfere to this extent, making the battleground as even as possible given that they still had to dispatch the boarders.

"Ready yourselves! Prepare to be boarded! Leave none alive!" Jon commanded loudly, drawing his sword. Jon drew his own blade as well. The men stilled in formation, facing both sides of the ship. Jon noticed the other ships did the same as his keen eyes made out Oberyn readying his spear and Stannis to his right drawing his sword. He focused again on his own men as the two lead ships drew alongside each other and the iron born began to come in droves, either laying planks, tossing grappling hooks, or simply swinging across on ropes.

Jon ducked a savage blow from a scimitar-wielding man before decapitating him swiftly. He turned to block another blow from a man who had landed to his right and slashed his stomach open, blood and entrails spilling out on the deck. He turned to look for another opponent but found none. As he took a moment to breathe, he observed his men. They were doing far better than he had hoped, though one or two had died that he could see, most likely from being off balance from what he could see of their wounds. Most of the first boarders had been killed quickly, not expecting such organized resistance.

"Push off the ship! Make ready for the next!" Jon yelled as men rushed to follow his command. This had been their plan. As each wave of boarders were killed, the ship would be pushed off and sent back to the next waiting ship to finish them off and then sent back one final time to the small ships in the back whose only purpose was to salvage what ships or materials or supplies they could. The first ship, Jon's ship in this case, would then allow the second line of ships to come ahead of theirs to take the next wave, allowing his men a chance to rest for a moment.

Soon enough, they had rotated back to the front once more and another ship drew alongside them and began to board. Jon marveled at how well the plan seemed to be working. He quickly formed his men once more and soon enough the enemy began to land on board the ship. There were more of them this time, but not too many. It took a mere ten minutes before they again shoved the ship off to prepare for the next wave. Unfortunately, fate stepped in at that moment.

No matter how well Poseidon controlled the seas, fate always found a way to balance things. A ship, unnoticed by Poseidon and therefore unexpected by the rest of them, rammed through a ship to Jon's left. It cleaved the ship in two, spilling its cargo and crew and part of their army out into the sea, which immediately began to push them to the safety of the other ships. It continued moving, so fast that it was unavoidable.

"Brace! Brace! Brace for impact!" Jon barely had time to yell before a loud BOOM shattered his eardrums for a moment. The ship crashed into them hard, and luckily for them it got stuck rather than cleaving them, probably due to the wards Jon had put over the ship when they had left. Men began to swing, jump, fall, and climb from the front of the enemy ship onto theirs. Jon began shouting orders, trying to form a coherent defense, but everywhere he looked his men had fallen and were being slaughtered. They slowly stood up and formed a defensive phalanx, but the damage had been heavy. Many of their fellow soldiers had been killed while disoriented, distracted, and fallen.

Euron himself jumped down gracefully onto the ship, facing Jon as he giggled insanely and drew his sword. It was a scimitar of course, but it was valyrian steel. One of Jon's men leaped at him, stabbing at his head. Quick as a snake, Euron spun to the right and brought his sword up, breaking his opponent's sword. One more movement and he cut his throat before turning to Jon again. Jon readied his own blade, knowing he was up against a madman with skill.

Euron slashed at him, still grinning madly. Jon parried and it soon became a deadly dance. Jon had better reflexes, speed, and strength due to his heritage, but Euron somehow seemed able to keep up with him in the speed department. His insanity lent him strength as well, and a suspicion formed in Jon's mind. The Greyjoy family used to be blessed by Poseidon with his heirs until they began to inbreed occasionally. Euron must have received some godly attributes from his parents as a legacy. That was why Poseidon had helped them. He wanted to be able to bless a saner family in the future and help clear away his mistakes.

Up, down, left, right, diagonal, the sword strikes were coming so fast Jon could barely react. He was unused to being on a ship as well and the rocking still threw him off a little. It was his own fault. Though he practiced with gods, he had never really expected to fight anyone who matched him, and therefore vastly underestimated Euron. He found himself disarmed moments later as he slipped and fell on his back. He knew the weapon would return to him momentarily, but he probably did not have that long. Euron smirked at him and raised his sword, slashing downward.

Jon rolled and kept rolling, avoiding the blade as long as possible. His armor may be godly, but he didn't want to test that against Valyrian weaponry. As he rolled onto his back once more, he saw Euron standing over him with his sword raised. As Euron slashed downward at him, he sent out a desperate kick at the man's shin. He fell forward, but the hardened blade still found a mark. It slammed into Jon's side. The armor protected him, but it dented inward from the blow, crushing his ribs and fracturing at least one. Jon gasped in pain but took advantage of the moment to roll away down the steps onto the main deck.

Pushing himself to his feet, he discovered his weapon had returned to him. This time he changed it to a spear, and stabbed at Euron, who was coming down the steps after him. It caught him off guard and pierced his stomach before being pulled out. Jon whipped it around quickly to slice his neck open, but Euron parried the blow. Single-minded and determined now, Jon focused on the fight, using his abilities for the first time. As the spear came back around, he swung it over his head at Euron who looked confused by such a maneuver.

The spear turned into a battle axe with a thought and Euron jumped aside in surprise as it buried itself into the ship. Jon pulled it free and changed it to a dagger that whipped through the air as Euron dodged and parried it quickly. As he knocked aside Euron's blade once more, he twirled the dagger around and stabbed quickly. The dagger changed back into a sword, the tip piercing Euron's heart. Euron paused for a moment and looked down, and still the crazy bastard didn't stop. With a scream of rage, he jumped at Jon, swinging his sword at his exposed neck. Jon let go of his sword and rammed his shoulder into Euron. He knocked him down and then kicked his sword in further.

Grasping the handle, he ripped it free and with a mighty swing, cut off Euron's head. Picking up Euron's sword, he caught his breath. The rest of the enemy was being dispatched by his surviving soldiers. Stannis' ship came next to them, and Jon swiftly ordered everyone on board, just as their ship began to sink. A quick look around showed him that the naval battle had ended with around ten of their ships sank, while all of the enemy ships had been taken or sunk. Now they headed for Pyke…

Landing at Pyke-Two hours later

Jon rallied his men. The beaches had been clear of enemies, and they had landed easily. The enemy would be hiding behind their walls it seemed, what was left of them anyway. Together, the three armies marched toward Pyke, each army carrying a siege weapon of some kind. The gates were closed, and it seemed there were around two hundred or so men left, Jon estimated, eyeing the men along the walls and above the gate.

As the army came to a halt, Jon, Stannis, and Oberyn urged their horses forward along with two guards each. They stopped just out of arrow range. Jon moved to speak, as was right since he had called them together and he was King in the North, the closest kingdom.

"Let Lord Balon Greyjoy know that should he surrender, all men, women, and children will be spared. He has one hour. If he does not surrender, all soldiers opposing us shall be killed, and all women and children made slaves!" Jon declared sternly. As King in the North, he had reinstated slavery, though only those captured in war or criminals could be made so.

After this declaration, a soldier shouted out; "That's King Balon Greyjoy to you Greenlander!"

"One hour." Jon repeated in a strong tone before he and the others went back to their army. The next hour was then spent preparing oil, torches, arrows, stakes, trenches, watches, and formations. The siege weapons were properly aligned and made ready as well.

After the hour mark, on each signal from each leader their respective armies began firing. Dorne began to fire flaming balls over the walls from their trebuchet, Stannis' men began to fire their catapult at the wall, while Jon's men fired their catapult at the gate. Their artillery pounded the walls and gate repeatedly, seemingly to no avail on the walls, but soon enough the gate burst open in a deadly explosion of metal and wood. Jon held the men back though and signaled for the others to do the same. He had his catapults realigned at the walls and continued to fire upon them with Stannis' men doing the same. The Dornish continued to fire over the walls as Prince Oberyn and King Stannis trotted over to him.

"Why wait? We have an opening." Stannis asked him immediately.

"We have an opening, yes, but why waste our men's lives when we could simply open up the wall in other places as well as fire until we are out of ammunition in order to both kill off some of the enemy as well as demoralize them?" Jon replied with a smile. Stannis and Oberyn nodded in agreement and turned to go back to their men, but Jon stopped them.

"Once the ammunition is spent, send the archers forward and have them fire into the city until their arrows are spent. If the Iron Born charge them, have them retreat behind the lines and have the spearmen and swordsmen ready. The cavalry should be held as a last resort given the lack of open ground to make them effective."

Once more, both men agreed and left for their section of the army. Soon enough, Jon saw the orders being given as the men moved into position. The artillery kept up their attack the entire time. Once the artillery bombardment began to slow, and then came to a stop, the archers from each army marched forward. When they had reached an appropriate distance, they began to fire into the castle consistently. Screams rent the air for around the first ten to fifteen minutes, but soon stopped. Jon halted the archers at this point and had them wait for around ten minutes.

They fired again at his mark, and more screams rent the air from those who had believed the assault had paused. Soon enough, the screaming stopped, and Jon halted the archers once more. Finally, after a nod from the commanders, their front three lines entered the castle. After ten minutes, the rest of the army was ordered in after them. The three commanders entered as well, surrounded by both their army and their personal guard. When they entered the castle, they were met by the sight of dead men and rubble littering the streets. Not too long afterwards, they found themselves in front of the great doors leading into the castle itself. On the steps was Balon Greyjoy himself, at sword point and on his knees. Stannis stepped forward, along with Oberyn and Jon, each leaving their horse.

"Put a sword in his hand. Rebellion or not, he is a king. I would not have him die a common criminal, beheaded and defenseless." Jon spoke. It was a two-part maneuver. If Stannis and Oberyn accepted it, it would subtly name him overall commander above them in front of the men. If they did not, it did not diminish his standing either way. Also, by allowing Balon his chance, however small that may be, it showed the islanders that Jon was a man of steel himself, and they would follow the strong as they had always done.

Stannis and Oberyn nodded in agreement, and Balon was given back his sword. Jon drew his and walked forward.

"So this is how it is to be? An old man against a young warrior, blessed by the gods?" Balon said scornfully.

"It is a better chance than any other would give you, and better than you deserve." Jon replied evenly.

"It is no chance. It is a pl-" Balon began to say before Jon slashed at him. Better to avoid those words coming out of his mouth. Surprisingly, he blocked the first attack. Jon kept him on the defensive however, knowing it would be no problem to simply dispatch him, but playing with him would show his abilities more clearly to those assembled, furthering his own legend in their minds.

Balon began to fight back, and Jon slowly allowed him to attack in turn before growing bored two minutes into the fight. He blocked a strike lazily, deflecting it away from them both, and lunged. He had let him live long enough, and with that lunge he stabbed Balon in the heart. He pulled his blade free, and with that, ended the siege on Pyke.

One Month Later

Bran, Lady Stark, Rickon, and Ser Rodrick were all on Pyke now, with a thousand men from their army, and five ships. Jon had spent the past month rebuilding, stocking supplies as much as possible, and readying the castle for Bran. After naming him Lord, he instructed him to better the castle just as the other Northern strongholds were, and the army held a victory feast as a ceremony both for their victory, and for Bran's rise in station.

Now, Jon and Stannis were joined by Oberyn and looking at a piece of parchment as if it had offended them. Two ravens had come in that morning. One from the wall, stating that the wildlings were about to siege it, and that there were 100,000 of them if it could be believed. The second letter had been from Kings Landing. Daenerys Targaryen had taken the capital, with three dragons and an army of Unsullied, sellswords, and Dothraki. She demanded they bend the knee in order to be spared and to keep their positions. Stannis had fumed when he heard the news and had to hang around a hundred deserters who had tried to leave over concern for their families or out of contempt for a king who lost his capital.

The decision they faced was to either march south to deal with this Targaryen, or north to reinforce the wall. Jon and Oberyn agreed that they knew nothing of the Targaryen girl aside from rumors, and that the Wall was more important at the moment. Stannis likely knew they were right, but the only opinion he had voiced was to take their armies to fight this dragon queen. Jon carefully explained multiple times that they could not yet defeat a dragon and needed time to prepare. Stannis would not hear of it until the third night after the message was received. He finally came to Jon's rooms that night and conceded.

"I know the Wall is more important. If the wildlings get in with an army that big, we may never throw them back out. Swear to me we will deal with this Targaryen girl after the battle though, or I swear none of our troops shall assist in yours." Stannis had said.

"I agree." Jon said to him. If they made it out alive, he would try to help his friend with his problem, folly though it seemed. Perhaps his powers over the sky would help him. Stannis had nodded, and here they were now, sailing their ships to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. They would land tomorrow, and march to Castle Black to help make a stand.

There was a total of 38,000 troops between them all, and limited supplies as they had not expected a long campaign. They had to hope the siege did not last long, or they would be starved out with no way to rectify the situation. So far, they had enough supplies to last about a month, but that was it. Castle Black rarely had supplies enough to help themselves, much less feeding three more armies, even if the situation had been better lately with Jon helping as much as he could. Truth be told, it would take Jon another ten years to fix the Watch entirely.

So, it came to be that a few days later, with few losses due to cold and desertion, they made it to Castle Black. Upon arrival, they discovered Commander Mormont was dead along with most of the commanders of the other castles during an excursion beyond the wall. Despite the men of the Watch having no loyalty to those of the kingdoms, the remaining men under Master Aemon's direction named Jon their commander for the time being. The only one to pose any kind of issue was a Ser Alliser Thorne. It was handled quickly enough however after Prince Oberyn challenged him to a duel and King Stannis threatened to hang him if Jon didn't. Thorne desisted quickly after discovering he had no one backing him in what Jon assumed to be his goal of being Lord Commander himself.

The first two days was spent with Jon assembling the armies so that most men had cover of some kind and rationing the supplies so they would last as close to a month as possible with so many mouths to feed. They were running short on fresh meat, and little to none was to be had this far north. The day after rationing supplies, Jon roused himself before dawn and used his powers in the privacy of his room to conjure a meal consisting of eggs, sausages, crispy bacon burnt black, some soft warm fresh bread, along with a mug of good brown ale to wash it down. He was satisfied with the work they had achieved so far, but he wished he was powerful enough to conjure food for an entire army, but he suspected that was even out of the gods' powers themselves.

A knock sounded at his door along with a horn sounding in the distance. Jon stood and opened the door to a younger boy from the watch.

"Ser Alliser is meeting with some wildling calling himself Mance Rayder, he asked to meet with the commander and Ser Alliser said he would meet with him. Maester Aemon asked me to find you and take you there sir!"

"Lead the way. Quickly now." Jon replied. The boy took off at a run and Jon followed as quickly as he could. He should have hung him already. Now he was meeting with emissaries behind his back?

Not long after arriving they saw a group of black brothers and a group wearing grey cloaks facing off against one another. As they drew close, Jon watched Ser Alliser draw his sword and Jon cried out quickly to avert a crisis erupting.

"Stay your blade!"

"I don't take orders from you, bastard!" Thorne yelled at him. "These are wildlings, and Mance here used to be a black brother who deserted! You know what must be done to deserters! It is the law!"

"I am King in the North. I make the law, not you. If you disagree, King Stannis of the South can come back my claim as well!" Jon did not know if Stannis would agree with him, but he wanted to hear what this Mance had to say before condemning him to death.

"You do not make the law for the Watch! We are beyond the reach of kings and queens." Thorne replied venomously.

"Stay your blade, or I will kill you myself. You do not speak for all here. The Watch made me temporary commander; therefore, I do command you, and all others here!" Jon answered angrily. He drew his own sword in order to make his point clear.

"You think you're something special don't you bastard?" Thorne sneered as he turned to face Jon. "If I gut you now, everyone will know you were false all along. I should be leading us if you're too soft to kill a traitor."

Wasting no more words, Jon leapt at Thorne, beheading him in one swift strike. Sheathing his blade and turning to the men with them, he said, "Clean this up and burn the body. Warn everyone else that the first man to bare steel at me after this will receive no warning."

He turned to Mance Raydar as they hurried to follow his orders. "So, you are the traitor he spoke of?"

"Aye, I once was a man of the watch. I am free now. Those with me represent around ten thousand of the free folk who do not wish to do the Walkers' bidding." Mance replied solemnly.

"The Walkers? What Walkers do you speak of?" Jon asked him, a chill of foreboding climbing his spine.

"Surely you've heard of them? The White Walkers, or formerly known as, the Titans." Mance said.

"The Titans…" Jon said under his breath in some small amount of despair. The gods had told him of these beings, older than the gods themselves, immensely powerful, and taking gods and heroes of great power and skill to vanquish. Clearly they had taken on a new form, the White Walkers of legend.

"Come Mance Raydar. We do not have much, but every man is welcome. Indeed, we may come to forgive your desertion in light of present events. I feel we shall all need as many friends and swords as can be mustered in the coming days." Jon said authoritatively. "Tell me of these walkers and your own people as we walk. I am most curious and must know more in the event of an alliance…"

The two men walked toward the tunnel, speaking on matters that would decide the fate of their world.