Heartbeats, breathing, then cacophony of voices, male, female, all saying the same words: I don't want to die. One male voice speaks in Dothraki.
CUTTO: JON falling off RHAEGAL in the snow. JON faces thousands of THE NIGHT KING ARMY stalking towards him. THE NIGHT KING ARMY marches, and the ground shakes.
JON, sadly: I don't want to die. Not like this.
CUTTO: DAENERYS flying on DROGON as the hordes of undead DOTHRAKI march toward her. DROGON breathes fire, but there's always more. The undead horde is relentless.
DAENERYS, angrily: I don't want to die. Not like this.
CUTTO: Snowstorm killing scores of DOTHRAKI. KOVARRO sees MALAKHO dying as his skin is ripped from his body by the magical snowstorm.
KOVARRO, in Dothraki: I don't want to die. Not here.
CUTTO: SANSA, in the GREAT HALL of WINTERFELL, when the walls are breached and the undead horde advance. They murder NORTHMEN and WOMEN, and SANSA cries as they do. |And when the undead advance close to SANSA, just moments before a skeleton hand reaches toward her.
SANA, sadly: I don't want to die. Please.
CUTTO: NORTHERN WOOD PAST THE WALL. JAIME and BRON in the wilderness with BRON's forearm pressed against JAIME's throat, his back against a tree.
JAIME, dryly: I don't want to die. I swear I'm over it.
CUTTO: ARYA, in the GODSWOOD with THE NIGHT KING. BRAN is dead in his wheelchair.
ARYA, determined: I don't want to die.
CUTTO: TYRION in THE CRYPT, shattered bodies of undead trying to revive but had obsidian struck into each skull so their bodies splintered during revival. TYRION is hiding underneath a statue when THE NIGHT KING barges the doors open.
THE NIGHT KING: Westerosi, I feel you.
TYRION, fearful: I don't want to die. I don't want to die.
[GAME OF THRONES music]
TYRION: I don't want to die. I don't want to die.
THE NIGHT KING: Westerosi, I feel you. You feel smaller than the others.
TYRION: I don't want to die.
THE NIGHT KING, walking through the crypts: You are a little soul of many lives, that I feel.
TYRION, fearful and mouthing: I don't want to die.
When suddenly, blue light surrounds his silhouette and he disappears as if invisible. THE NIGHT KING suddenly stops.
THE NIGHT KING: I don't feel you anymore. Why?
THE NIGHT KING walks through the crypts, and audience sees THE CRYPT , dark with shadows, through TYRION's perspective: underneath a statue with blue light emanating from THE NIGHT KING. In a few dark shots, audience hears the deliberate footsteps of THE NIGHT KING, then blue light until THE NIGHT KING's legs appear in front.
THE NIGHT KING stops.
THE NIGHT KING: I felt you a moment ago, then suddenly you vanish. That has never happened before. Every adult soul I've felt, I've killed. You are the only one to suddenly vanish. Little soul of many lives, you intrigue me.
The doors of the crypt burst open.
BALLERINA: We need you, my king.
THE NIGHT KING: Our paths will cross again. I feel it.
THE NIGHT KING leaves the CRYPT.
A moment of silence when suddenly TYRION re-appears from underneath the statue.
TYRION: I was literally going to die.
TYRION breathes hysterically for moments until his breathing returns to normal.
TYRION: I was going to die. Death is fucking scary.
TYRION hugs himself: I was going to die. I thought I was going to die.
Suddenly, a blue light appears and transforms into a butterfly.
TYRION: You saved me, but I don't know how.
The butterfly pulsates to the slow, deliberate rhythm of THE NIGHT KING's footsteps.
Blue light surrounds TYRION.
TYRION: Fear. The Night King said he felt magic, and the Three-Eyed Raven said he felt magic. I felt fear hiding from the Night King, and this magic happened. Magic is done through feeling. Fear allows me to cast this invisibility spell.
The butterfly flutters, then disappears. TYRION is alone in the dark.
TYRION: Fear.
CUTTO: ARYA with THE NIGHT KING et al. BRAN is dead in his wheelchair.
ARYA, her undead face mask clinging to her chest, the undead mouth gnawing at ARYA's leather armor: I don't want to die.
THE NIGHT KING: Woman with the many faces, what is your name?
ARYA: Arya Stark. This is my home.
THE NIGHT KING: How long has Winterfell been home?
ARYA: The first Starks lived here in 1221.
THE NIGHT KING: Do you know what existed before 1221?
ARYA: We don't have records. More trees, certainly, but I can't fathom.
THE NIGHT KING: Yes, more trees, but specifically, more heartwood trees. Their roots entrenched deep into the soil as far south as Dorne. All of this land was bountiful with heartwood trees until men came to this garden and decimated each heartwood until none were left alive.
ARYA: Except for Winterfell.
THE NIGHT KING: Winterfell was an exception. Everywhere south of Winterfell, man and woman chopped each heartwood to a lifeless stump. I was born by a heartwood tree, did you know that? When I was still a man, eyes brown, I was held prisoner by the Children in a heartwood, the roots entangling around my body so I couldn't move. For weeks I was held prisoner underneath and within the soil. For weeks, I endured as the roots grew and fused with my skin. For weeks, I felt what the heartwood felt. Are you curious what that was?
ARYA: Yes.
THE NIGHT KING: Pain. As each heartwood from south to north was murdered, I felt their screams. Murder after murder, I endured each suffering. Time lost meaning when all I felt was pain as profound as the genocide of forests. I don't know how much time passed until the Children decided my fate. When My Maker pierced light into my chest, I arose as the undead king, eyes blue like you see them now. But for weeks and a timeless expanse of moments, my eyes were bloodshot red.
ARYA: You were angry?
THE NIGHT KING: I was angry at the wanton destruction wrought by men.
ARYA: Is this why you want to kill us? For revenge?
THE NIGHT KING: I wish my emotions were as basic as that. No. Instead of decimating forests, if you had instead studied these heartwood trees, you would have learned the truth of their power. But your ancestors chopped each tree down to burn for kindling. There is another species as wanton as you are. Locusts.
ARYA: Locusts?
THE NIGHT KING: Every few decades, locusts in their trillions hatch. They resemble grasshoppers, but that's only when they're young and then they grow wings. Every few decades, locusts hatch in their trillions, and in their billions upon billions, gnaw at every green stalk and leaf they encounter. As the hordes of locusts advance, green fields transform to brown stems gnawed into stumps. Millions upon billions upon trillions of locusts decimate every plant in their path until they've decimated every edible plant and then, die from their own starvation. Locusts are biblical harbingers of pestilence and disease. They are not alone on this world.
ARYA: We're the other one, aren't we?
THE NIGHT KING: You decimate more than trees. You decimate forests like locusts decimate the Savannah. When locusts decimate a farm on the Savannah, do you know what these farmers eat?
ARYA: I don't know.
THE NIGHT KING: Nothing. No stems mean no harvest, and that means no food to eat. Locusts entail suffering through starvation. Starvation is the absence of life. Starvation is a fate worse than death. Do you know what happens when cities starve?
ARYA: I don't know.
THE NIGHT KING: I've seen what happen. When cities starve, the powerful stay fed, but the weak grow hungry and desperate. Desperation begets violence until the populace are so desperate, they resort to eating each other, including the powerfully fat and fed. Whole cities cannibalize.
ARYA: A fate worse than death.
THE NIGHT KING: Starvation is a fate worse than death. This is what I want to avoid.
ARYA: How?
THE NIGHT KING: I will restore balance to this world. Balance and equilibrium. That is the natural order.
ARYA: I heard you don't murder children. Is that true?
THE NIGHT KING: It is, but you tried to murder me. That is regicide. I must punish attempted regicide, no matter the age. How old are you?
ARYA: Seventeen.
THE NIGHT KING, suddenly grabs ARYA by the throat: You've murdered. I sense their blood on your soul. THE NIGHT KING stares into ARYA as ice forms around ARYA's lips. I sense your first kill. Quick like a needle. Reflexes had saved you. But not today.
ARYA, gasping: Not today.
THE NIGHT KING: Death can claim your soul, but today, he's merciful.
THE NIGHT KING lets go.
THE NIGHT KING: You're a clever girl. I'll explain my plans to you because you are a clever girl. My army will advance south. I am inevitable, but how, that is choice. Your choice. One choice is a graceful option, the other, advancement by brute force. If you help me, my army advances gracefully south, or if you don't, I brutally force my soldiers to slaughter the living. Winter can be cruel.
ARYA: You have my sister. If I help you, will she be harmed?
THE NIGHT KING: No harm shall befall her. I give you my word.
ARYA, pausing and staring at BRAN: You are inevitable because death is inevitable. But I choose a graceful way out. What does this help entail?
THE NIGHT KING: Drops of a potion, really. You enter villages, towns, and cities by stealth, and drop a few droplets into the water. In a few days, people will grow sick, and disease will spread. When enough have died and the streets are quietly still, it will snow a delicate snow as a light dusting of white in the breeze. Then my army advances quietly and gracefully like the snowfall.
ARYA: Winter coming as a gentle snowfall is beautiful, almost peaceful.
THE NIGHT KING: Do I have your word, girl of many faces?
ARYA: You have my word. I will help you. May I ask one request?
THE NIGHT KING: What is this request?
ARYA: I followed the God of Many Faces, and thought I had learned the meaning of death, but it wasn't. I learned how to disguise in order to kill. Killing was a thrill for me, and killing for revenge helped me go to sleep. I have sleepless nights now.
THE NIGHT KING: You miss the thrill of righteous murder. The man who kills a murderer is no murderer, but honourable and just. Yet, to kill, to witness another life's last breaths, to see the eyes flicker off, to feel his body grow limp by your bloody hands – that is the thrill of killing, and you miss that thrill.
ARYA: Killing is more intense than fucking.
THE NIGHT KING, mumbling: Maybe in your limited experience.
THE NIGHT KING: Killing, when right and just, is lust at her most intense and beautiful. You miss that feeling. I understand. Believe me, I understand. Do you want to feel that again?
ARYA: Yes
THE NIGHT KING: Kneel before me.
ARYA kneels before THE NIGHT KING.
THE NIGHT KING: I have your word?
ARYA: You have my word.
THE NIGHT KING, slowly undoing the golden ring on his finger: Arya Stark, you have agreed to bring balance to this world. From this day forth, our fates are entwined as life on this world is entwined. From this day forth, we shall bond as if distance were inconsequential.
THE NIGHT KING fuses his gold ring onto ARYA's neck. ARYA resists the scorching pain.
THE NIGHT KING, removing the finger from his hand, its icy blue flesh merging with the gold then the pink flesh of ARYA's neck: My warrior, you will aid in bringing balance to this world. This is an honour. You will set right what man has set wrong.
ARYA: Yes, my king.
THE NIGHT KING: You know what must be done. The inevitable. You have chosen the graceful inevitable.
ARYA: My king, yes.
THE NIGHT KING: I could have killed you today. Never forget that.
ARYA: My king, never.
CUTTO: SANSA, great hall of WINTERFELL, as as undead hand reaches toward her.
SANSA: I don't want to die. Please.
VIOLET: Stop minions.
The undead hand stops.
VIOLET, bowing: My lady Sansa. I'm Violet, a lieutenant in the Night King's army. Are you hurt?
SANSA, shaking: No. SANSA closes her eyes, but keeps shaking. When SANSA reopens her eyes, VIOLET is kneeling in front of her. VIOLET is eerily beautiful, like a frozen lake at sunrise.
VIOLET, her voice soft: I remember what it was like to see my first undead. I was sixteen and they invaded my village. I fled to the forest, but the Night King found me. He told me he doesn't murder children. How old are you?
SANSA: Twenty one.
VIOLET: You don't look it. I thought you were sixteen going on seventeen. Twenty one is legal age for all types of sins.
SANSA, crying: Does this mean he'll kill me?
VIOLET, smiling: Just lie. You are sixteen going on seventeen.
SANSA, smiling: Fellows will fall in line.
VIOLET: Eager young lads and rogues and cads will offer you food and wine.
VIOLET offers her hand to SANSA.
VIOLET: You can touch me. I'm not like the others.
SANSA takes VIOLET's hand and they get up together.
VIOLET: I'll escort you to your room. Which way is it?
SANSA: This way.
They walk to SANSA's bedroom, and undead stop moving when VIOLET is near.
SANSA: You said you were a lieutenant. What does that mean?
VIOLET: We're not mindless, and some of us have kept our soul. We also possess magic.
SANSA: Does that mean you kept your soul?
VIOLET: I have.
SANSA: Winter was my favourite season. I loved walks in the forest after a fresh snowfall. The smell of the air, and the way the snow diffracted the sunlight through the pine needles, that was simply beautiful. Has anyone told you that you're beautiful?
VIOLET: Many have, but never from someone as beautiful as you.
SANSA, blushing: I never thought I'd be escorted to my room by a lieutenant of the undead army.
VIOLET: Undead society is more complex than you'd assume.
SANSA: We're here. My room is behind these doors.
VIOLET: Stay in your room. The Night King will visit you when he's ready. Do not leave your room otherwise the undead minions will kill you. Do you understand?
SANSA: Understood.
VIOLET, bowing: Goodbye my lady.
SANSA: Goodbye Lieutenant.
CUTTO: NOVARRO on the snowfield, as he prepares for battle. Video montage of Dothraki soldiers getting ready for battle as the sun rises, past midday, passed sunset when they wait. The hours pass as they wait in silence with nothing but the wind as companionship. The hours pass until NOVARRO hears the earth shaking. THE NIGHT KING ARMY approaches.
MALAKHO, in Dothraki: We wait until our time.
NOVARRO nods.
Drum beats as the relentless march of THE NIGHT KING ARMY, thunders forward like an eerie heartbeat, pulsating, pulsating, then:
MALAKHO: It's time.
THE DOTHRAKI gallop to meet THE NIGHT KING ARMY when a tranche deserts, galloping into the other direction.
MALAKHO: We are brothers. We don't abandon our brothers.
THE DOTHRAKI gallop towards the mass of the undead when a dragon appears in the distance. But instead of flying like a sprinter, this dragon glides on the wind. When the dragon approaches, NOVARRO realizes the eyes are blue.
NOVARRO: Wait. No.
MALAKHO: No waiting. We advance and meet the enemy.
Then, GHAL breathes blue fire on the first charge of DOTHRAKI. KOVARRO rides his horse towards the flank of DOTHRAKI. NOVARRO witnesses his brethren die from blue dragon fire, then their bodies swirled into a magical hail storm. NOVARRO sees MALAKHO's body ripped apart by magical hail.
NOVARRO: I don't want to die. Not here.
NOVARRO, on his steed, gallops away.
CUTTO: JON on the snowfield, RHAEGAL dead beside him as THE NIGHT KING ARMY marches forward.
JON: I don't want to die. Not like this.
JON prepares his sword as THE NIGHT KING ARMY advances, and the earth shakes with each step. A few tense moments of an army that sounds like pulsating thunder, and then DAENERYS with DROGON land.
JON: I'm so glad to see you.
DAENERYS: We will avenge Rhaegal, but let's go. We can't win here.
JON rushes to catch a ride with DROGON. DROGON runs through the field, then is airborne.
DAENERYS: We need to seriously think of Plan B.
