JON

"A Song of Peace & Destruction"

Jon walked through the Godswood and thought of how peaceful it was. He never failed to observe the pale tree with it's dark auburn leaves and how they contrasted with the white snow on the ground. Even the evergreen trees contrasted with the copper tones of the leaves. The sap escaping the eyes of the tree never scared him but was always mysterious. Why was the tree in sorrow? He pondered on his family and how the place was a sanctuary for them. He thought of Sansa and how he missed her. He had received a raven earlier of her departure back to the North. There were no other details besides an arrangement had been made and that Sansa would bring the details. He thought about what that arrangement could mean. He also received a parchment of details about Lannister forces moving North. Jon was being pushed into a position that he didn't want to be in. He fought one war and didn't plan on fighting two more. His people needed their resources for the true war to come not a miniscule war over bad blood.

Maybe it was his paranoia, but Jon knew that the Night King would not stop until he successfully made it South for whatever purpose he had. Death didn't stop for anyone or anything; it comes for all. Jon would make sure at the least that his people would be prepared as they would be the first to encounter the threat, so it wasn't as if they had a choice in the matter. Yet Jon called his banners—most importantly the Knights of the Vale as they were his strongest allies. Lord Robyn responded with haste and was sending the majority of his forces in which they would arrive on par with the Lannister forces. Jon had the walls prepared with chunks of boulders and arrows ready to be shot. He also made arrangements for the women and children who would be seeking refuge in the Castark stronghold. Jon wouldn't risk their lives in the crypts even if he didn't anticipate any soldiers getting within the walls of Winterfell. His father always said that Winterfell could withstand a siege against 10,000 soldiers with 100 men.

Jon stood peacefully until two of his guards yelled for him. Jon abruptly turned and looked at them.

"My King you must come right away!", the shorter one yelled.

"We have a prisoner from the Lannister forces.", the other responded. They both were out of breath as they ran to him. Jon followed them to the Great Hall which was empty at the midday hour with the exception of cooks. Jon immediately saw a tall lean man with shaggy brown hair and wide green eyes. He then saw a rope in his hand leading to another man in gold armor. His head was bleeding and he sat tied up, hunched over.

"What is the meaning of this?", Jon asked glancing down to the hostage. As he stood closer he was able to identify a lion on his chest plate. Jon noticed that the tall man was staring at him, looking at him right into his eyes.

"My King I have brought you a hostage. I'm sure you would like to hear his details on the Lannister plan of attack. They are quite interesting.", the man responded. Jon nodded to him.

"Your name?", Jon asked. The man walked up to him within one meter and grabbed Jon's arm.

"I'm Toran.", he responded with a firm grip. Jon returned the grip and patted him on his back. Jon just met Toran and felt a connection with him already. He reminded him of Robb.

"Alright he will be my prisoner. Guards take him to the cells. Toran, let us go to the library to discuss the details."

"Of course, my King.", Toran responded.

.

"I should have known.", Jon responded. He just learned that the Knights of the Vale would be leading the attack with the Lannister army. Jon forgot to breathe, he was so upset. He walked a couple of steps away and took a breath. He felt like a fool for not executing Petyr Baelish when he had the chance; he knew he couldn't trust him and now he would have to deal with double the forces he wasn't expecting. He finally turned to Toran who looked calm.

"My King, don't blame yourself you couldn't have known. The important thing is that you do now." He walked up to Jon and put his hand on his shoulder. Jon glanced down and turned the corners of his lips slightly. "What will you do?"

"I will have to keep the walls armed, but move our forces outside the walls to attack them from behind. We will attack them in waves—one Northernman can take fifteen of any southern soldier. It's the only way we stand a chance because otherwise we don't have the resources to hold off their men.", Jon responded. Toran moved his arm and turned in thought.

"That sounds like a solid plan, my King. I couldn't of thought of a better plan myself.", Toran responded. "Now what do you say we get drunk and celebrate before we possibly die tomorrow?"

Jon looked at Toran's lazy smile and smiled back. For some reason he actually decided it was a good idea as he knew it would lift his men's spirits. "Why not?", he relayed while patting Toran on the back. He walked away into the halls to make preparations for the festivities.

.

Jon had the Great Hall lit with many candles, singers were filling the open space with melodies about conquest and defending the North. Platters and bowls of food were all over the tables, along with mugs full of ale and wine. Jon sat at the head table along with Ser Davos and Toran. Umber forces amongst other noble men were not far discussing their dying wishes.

Jon was on his third mug of ale while Toran was on his fourth. "Catch up.", Toran demanded. Jon shook his head and smirked. He was really growing fond of Toran.

"I'm afraid I cannot.", Jon slurred. He smiled with his eyes squinted. Toran picked up the container holding the ale and found it was empty, so he took the pitcher full of wine and poured it into Jon's mug.

"To my King.", Toran said. He chuckled.

"Aye.", Ser Davos contributed. "To King Jon of the North!"

"Aye!" filled the Great Hall. Most of the voices were slurred. Soon after a portion of the men finished their mugs and headed off to the brothels.

Jon stood up—too fast for comfort and leaned over the table. "I have to piss."

"Aye. I will escort the King outside for his piss.", Toran slurred as well. He lead the way outside into the night. Jon noticed that he had two sheaths strapped on his lower back with two long daggers as he walked in front of him. The moon casted a glow onto the snow-capped ground. Both of their breath could be seen exhaling out of their mouths. Toran stood watching men stumble out of the dim lit brothels across the courtyard while Jon pissed into a shrub.

"My King?", Toran asked.

Jon came around the corner and stumbled over to him. "I have pissed. Haha."

"That is great."

"You know even though I don't know much about you—you are a great man. I look forward to our futures together.", Jon relayed.

"Thank you, my King. It seems you have had too much to drink.", Toran responded with a smirk. He turned to Jon. "Jon I need to show you something."

Jon turned his head and glared at Toran as his entire demeanor changed. "What is it?"

Toran leaned his head forward towards the ground and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Then he pulled; Jon watched as his fingers pulled off his face in a quick manner. Jon immediately took a couple of steps back and rubbed his eyes before opening them. Before him stood a short girl with shoulder length brown hair and wide blue eyes. He closed his eyes again and opened them.

"You're right, I think I have had too much.", Jon said. His eyes still showed him a short girl in the same place where Toran once stood. The girl walked closer to him and gave him a look of sorrow.

"Jon it's me.", the girl said. In that moment when he heard her voice Jon knew it was his little sister who he thought he lost years ago: Arya.

ARYA

"Arya!", Jon yelled while embracing her. Arya gripped him tight while embracing him back. Jon sobered himself instantly.

"I've missed you. I promise I would have come sooner if I knew you had taken back Winterfell.", Arya said into is black fur coat.

"Sister where have you been? What you just did—are you?", Jon asked. He backed away to see his sister's face. Arya glanced down and smiled.

"Yes, I'm a faceless man now. After Father, I was with many others, but my final destination was Braavos with the Faceless Men. I trained with them for years.", Arya responded. She thought of Jaqen and life in Braavos. She completed her training into becoming 'no one', but she chose to be a girl who was Arya Stark because she had unfinished business. A contract with names that she would cross off and devote them to the Many-Faced God. Now that she knew her family was alive she wasn't entirely sure of what that meant after when she finished her list. She decided to focus on the present.

"What?! My sister is a faceless man. I always knew you would complete your training as a soldier.", Jon relayed while sizing her up.

"Compared to you—a King. It's little to nothing."

"No of course not.", Jon responded. Arya looked at him and knew he was telling the truth. Suddenly she remembered Sansa and was hesitant to even ask.

"Sansa?"

"She's fine!", Jon answered.

"I'm glad to hear. Where is she?"

"She met with the Daenerys Targaryen in Dragonstone. She should be sailing back now.", Jon responded. Arya's eyes became wide. Arya always wanted to see a dragon and now she might get the chance.

"The Dragon Queen?", she asked. Jon nodded.

"It's a bit of a long story.", Jon relayed.

"I have time." Arya listened to Jon explain everything about the dragonglass to valyrian steel and the Night King and his army. She didn't know what to say at first, but little surprised her anymore and death definitely didn't. She stared at him.

"Well first we should worry about our immediate enemy."

"You're right… Did you really support my plan earlier?", Jon asked.

"Of course Jon. You are a good strategist.", Arya relayed.

"So why did you wait before showing me who you really were?", Jon asked perplexed. Arya stared at him and thought about why she waited so long. In her mind she didn't want Jon to look at her like his little sister, but an equal.

"I didn't want you to see me as your fragile little sister. I wanted to enjoy time together as strangers to see if you were the same…It was also the easiest way to show you my abilities now."

"Am I the same?"

"No. Am I?"

"No.", Jon replied with a smile. Arya returned it. She looked around her and took a deep breath. Inhaling the Northern scents of Winterfell—her home. It brought back many memories to her of her family.

"Bran—Rickon?", she asked. Jon became restricted.

"Dead. I watched Rickon die at the Battle of the Bastards. I could have saved him if I just would have gotten to him sooner. I—", Jon started.

"No, you couldn't have. Death can't be stopped when it is given a name.", Arya interrupted.

"It can.", Jon responded. He held his left arm to his chest. Arya watched the mannerism and became curious as to what he meant. She knew he was speaking his truth. "Another time."

"Okay."

"Wait so the Freys? That was you?", Jon asked.

"Yes." Arya waited for him to respond.

"You're amazing little sister."

"Thank you, my King."

"No, you don't have to call me that. You're my family."

"I do—at least around the other nobles.", Arya stated. Arya smiled when she thought of the last time she saw Jon. "I still have needle."

"I'm glad. Here is my steel, Longclaw. It's valyrian.", Jon said while handing her his sword. She held it and handed it back to him. She admired the white wolf handle and it's length. She reached behind her back and handed him her valyrian steel daggers that were forged from the same sword known as "Reaper".

"Very nice. Not too heavy and meant for carving. They are beautiful.", Jon said. He thought of how the extra length on the daggers was useful.

"They are valyrian steel too. It's all the Faceless Men use."

"Nice, sister. Name?"

"I don't know yet.", Arya responded. She was feeling a little fatigue from wearing her mask all day. She had three wounds along her hair line where she cut herself to allow her blood to fuse the mask to her face.

"Does it hurt?"

"At first, but not for long. The thoughts are the most troubling part. The masks nearly have a mind of their own.", Arya relayed. She shivered due to the cold frigid air. She was still adjusting to the colder climate.

"Ah. Come I can show you to a nice chamber."

"I still remember my way."

"Of course.", Jon responded. He walked into the halls to go to his chamber. Arya followed behind until they reached his door. She walked up to him and hugged him. Their talk was a nice distraction from the battle that would come tomorrow. She needed to rest as she would use her mask tomorrow for more size and strength.

"See you."

"See you.", Jon responded while watching her disappear down the halls.

.

Arya and Jon now stood atop the walls of Winterfell with the Northernmen. They were looking outside of Winterfell and could see the armies approaching with Arryn and Lannister banners. The bulk of Jon's forces were hiding amongst the wood ready to attack them once the horns sounded. Jon planned to wait until the forces attempted to climb the wall with ladders. The men ahead of them creating a cloud of silver and gold armor, were waiting for their signal to charge. Arya took a breath as this was her first battle she would experience. Her face was helping her though as he had experienced two battles before his death.

"Charge!", a man yelled. Jon heard the faint sound.

"Get ready!", Jon yelled in turn. Arya got her bow and arrow ready. Soon the men on horseback were a couple hundred meters away from the wall and that's when the blood bath started. Northernmen chucked heavy rock down at the enemies cracking into their horses' heads and their own. Arya along with many others shot arrows at the horses and their men mounted on them alike. Arrows protruded through horse legs, their necks, their men's legs and heads. Men could be seen straddling horses by their saddles unconscious or dead. Soon after minutes had passed, there was a line forming of dead horses and dead men laying before the wall. Horses squealing and shrieks from dying men filled the cold morning air. Arya maintained her focus while shooting as many of them down as she could. One arrow pierced the neck of a man, another pierced the lung of another. She was doing it in a systemic manner only focused on taking down her enemy.

She began to notice the men were using wooden canoes to shield themselves from the arrows and boulders. The men underneath carried ladders and barrels. She also seen men further out setting up catapults with boulders and began to worry. She knew the boulders would cause massive damage to her home which she just got back; it angered her. She finally ran out of arrows and started to chuck rock down aiming at her enemies. She could hear Jon as he was giving commands. He was beside two young men each with cream colored horns that they would use when the time was right. He was nearly ready to have the men use them. He began to dodge arrows from the Lannister men as they shot back while avoiding arrows shot at them. There were many voices and noises to be heard—it was hard to keep focus on their foes.

Arya found more arrows and returned to shooting them. She scoped out the scene and that's when she saw a torch and became worried as it was lit directly under the wall. That's when it happened. Arya heard the loudest noise she had ever experienced; an explosion of green and heat. Wildfyre. Arya felt her body react to the force in which she flew backwards landing on a roof. She rolled off of it and hit the snow hard on her side. It knocked the air out of her. She gasped for air and tried to regain her senses as she couldn't hear. Ringing filled her ears. She heard muffled noises and saw glimpses of men. Slowly she could hear little by little. She heard men yelling "Horns!" She looked around her while laying gripping her side and saw Northernmen running around her until finally someone helped her up. She glanced up and saw Jon, but it wasn't him—it was another Northernman with a black beard.

Arya muffled 'thank you' to him until she watched him get impaled with a sword. She fell back and reached for her daggers and defended herself. Slicing the man's legs and then his throat. She stumbled behind a tower and tried to regain her balance. She peered around to attempt to find Jon.

JON

When the explosion happened Jon was already on his way down the wall. His horn blowers following behind him. The steps tremored as they knelt and they heard the explosion. Chunks of the wall flew in all directions and green flames erupted from a gaping hole in it. Jon stood horrified as he had never seen that kind of destruction. He thought of Arya and scanned for her; he couldn't spot her. He prayed that she was fine. He looked around and saw his men with limbs detached—blood gushing out of their wounds writhing in agony. Jon took a breath and remembered he was their leader.

"Horns!", he yelled. The men blew the horns. He prayed the other horn blowers would hear and that his men would come. Jon watched as their enemies came pouring through the hole in the wall. Other men threw sand onto the wildfyre so that their allies could pass through unscathed. Soon after Jon had Longclaw unsheathed and to his side. He cut through men as they came after him—each desperate to gain nobility for slaying a King. Jon advanced to the center of the courtyard and looked for his sister.

"Arya!", Jon yelled. A Knight of the Vale rode up to Jon. Jon leaned out of his horse's way and cut the horse along it's flank. The horse jumped causing the knight to fall off. The knight got up and drew his sword. Jon swiped his sword and the two began fighting. The two were at a standstill whenever Jon stepped on the knight's boot and sliced his thigh. The knight fell to one knee and Jon impaled him through his chest plate. Jon put his foot to his torso to pull Longclaw out of him. Jon continued to charged forward until he finally came by Arya as Toran. She was cutting through men left and right with her twin daggers. She looked as if she was performing a dance. Jon went to her side and fought along with her. Arya would attack in a rhythm—she would cut one man's leg then his throat. Some she stabbed in the shoulder.

After fighting for a while they heard the sound of hooves and Jon hadn't been so grateful since the Battle of the Bastards. The Northernmen charged in the gates attacking their enemies. Some jumped off the horses with axes and tore through the Southern men. It wasn't long before the Northern forces were finishing off the last of the men who didn't desert the battle. It was as Jon knew: The Southern men could not take the harsh climate of the North and were ill prepared for the terrain. Their use of wildfyre gave them an edge, but they couldn't handle the strength of the Northern armies in combat. Yet Jon knew that his men suffered grave loss as well and the thought upset him.

.

Jon looked out at the courtyard and saw the snow with patches of blood that seeped into it. His men were still collecting the dead and putting them in piles to be burned. He dreaded whenever the people of Winterfell returned and saw the destruction. They would also come back to broken families. He felt like a failure of a King. Arya had gone outside of the walls and hunted down Petyr Baelish who attempted to flee. He now sat in a cell waiting to be executed for his crimes against the Vale and Winterfell.

"Bring him to the courtyard.", Jon stated grimly. Even though he wanted Petyr dead—he hated that he had to do it publicly. Jon unsheathed Longclaw and walked to the wooden stump that was prepared for Petyr. Soon after his guards brought Petyr Baelish to him on his knees. His face was bruised, and he smirked.

"Where's Sansa?", he asked.

"I, King Jon of the North sentence you, Petyr Baelish to die for the crimes of treason, murder, and conspiring to murder. Do you have any final words?", Jon stated. His men were gathered in the courtyard and watched in silence. Jon had the guards push his head down onto the stump. It was in that moment Petyr's fate sunk into him. Petyr began to shake and panic as his façade shattered. He was a coward.

"Sansa is she here? Sansa I love you!", Petyr yelled. He attempted to lift his head to search the courtyard for Sansa, but couldn't as his head was being held down. "Don't let her see!" Jon stood erect and drew his sword above Petyr's neck before swinging down through his flesh and bone. Jon wiped off his blade, sheathed Longclaw and walked away.

.

"In his own twisted way I truly believe he cared for Sansa.", Jon stated. Arya and Jon were enjoying ale in his private chambers. It was the night after the battle.

"I'm sure he did, but it doesn't justify his actions."

"I know, just a thought."

"You shouldn't feel bad—it was necessary.", Arya stated.

"Yeah."

"It's okay Jon—you're not a killer. I know killers and you aren't one." Jon nodded before taking a swig out of his mug. "What do you think are the terms of the Dragon Queen's arrangement?"

"I don't know—lumber I would hope.", Jon replied.

"I doubt that… You trust Sansa to discuss arrangements of that capacity?", Arya asked. She found it funny that the two were even cordial as Sansa was usually mean to Jon.

"Yes. She has changed a lot—definitely not the same lady that she used to be.", Jon answered. Arya smiled at the thought and thought of her last encounter with Sansa.

"Catch up."

…

Next time: Arya is reunited with an old friend and makes arrangements. Jon meets his match.