Chapter Twelve: Battle for Winterfell

Jon POV-Two weeks later

Jon sat in his solar in Winterfell, speaking to Daenerys, Oberyn, Lady Catelyn, and his steward. They were discussing their supply issue. The army had arrived back about three days ago. Daenerys had saved them and although there were some lingering issues over boundaries, a deal had been struck. Dorne would officially rejoin the seven kingdoms, but the North would stay separate as agreed with Stannis.

They would fight together, and they would be allies, as long as her family sat the throne. To that end, though she did not love him from what Jon could tell, Daenerys married Jorah Mormont, lifting the exile placed on him by Ned Stark years ago. She was pregnant already, Jon learned. He did not believe Jorah to be the father, but such a conspiracy theory might fracture the kingdoms further and he kept quiet in the name of their alliance. She and her dragons had guarded them all the way to Winterfell. She also explained that she had come looking for them at Winterfell since her letters had gone unanswered, and once she had been convinced to land, she had been told of the issue at the Wall.

Now some of her unsullied, sellswords, and Dothraki were at Winterfell. A large amount of men he had sent to different parts of the Wall came too, as well as a number of castles and villages nearby. They all had some supplies but Daenerys people and the Dornish were unused to winter and it had been particularly harsh lately. Winterfell, and the northern castles in general, had been desperate for supplies already, and had little money left with which to send for such. They had little enough to feed everyone another week perhaps if rationed correctly. This was the crux of the argument now taking place in his solar. Oberyn and Daenerys believed they should leave Winterfell and head for somewhere more plentiful such as the Riverlands. Lady Catelyn, the steward, and Jon did not want to abandon Winterfell. Their position was becoming untenable, however.

"Enough." Jon spoke into the increasingly louder argument. "If we must, we will leave in three days. That will be sufficient time to see if more come with more supplies."

Everyone seemed to agree well enough with his statement, and they each split off to different parts of the castle to see to various things. The dead had not come, and Jon wondered more than once what they were doing. The gods had been silent as well, and Jon could not reach them. He felt his own power grow tremendously away from the Wall however and was concerned by another more ancient power he could feel faintly, as if it were at a distance. He jumped when several horns sounded. He got up and ran from his solar, activating his armor and weapons along the way.

When he slid to a halt in the courtyard, several men, horses, and wagons were making their way through the gates. He stared slack-jawed in surprise. These were not his men, nor anyone he knew. They wore bright armor, marched in a disciplined manner, seemed well-fed and untired, and were all cheerful. Nobody in the North had cause for good cheer of late, and Jon knew they must be from the South. Who would send such a force though, along with so many supplies? Surely not the Lannisters for they still hated one another. The Lannisters, even if they did send support, would surely not have sent so much.

His question was answered when the standards were unfurled, and the rose of Highgarden was seen. Mace Tyrell came forward, and though he needed help off his horse, he was a sight for sore eyes of late. Jon strode forward with the other leaders to meet him at his horse.

"My lord!" Jon exclaimed brightly. "We did not look to see you here."

"I did not look to be here." Mace admitted while shaking hands all around. "At first we did not receive replies to our ravens discussing the marriage offer, then to our sympathetic replies about the ironborn attack, and then we heard about the Wall and my daughter convinced me to come offer our aid, especially if there was a possibility that we become family someday."

"Your timing couldn't have been better, my lord." Jon said in relief. "Our supplies are all but gone, our money spent between wars, and our morale was low. You are a welcome sight in hard times."

"You may thank my daughter. It was more her doing than mine once she heard of the proposal. She will be along shortly. We are but an advance guard, scouting out the situation before the main body comes." Mace said with a smile. "Come, tell me all I need know of the situation and sup with me."

Two hours later

Mace had been told all relevant details and was now appropriately horrified but was still more than willing to help once he heard Jon was still willing to go through with the marriage arrangements. Jon was sure it wouldn't be too difficult, and besides, they had to live first. Once he saw Lady Margaery though, he was sure of a lot more than that.

Immediately he noticed she was his age, about 15-17 years old, and extremely pretty. She was thin, but not terribly so. Her body was wonderfully proportioned, with a small but perky backside and shapely breasts, exquisitely shown off by the low-cut dress she wore. Her face was pretty, with a light amount of makeup, with her lips pale pink but full, and doe-like blue eyes and long brown hair. She may not have been the most beautiful woman in the universe, but for Jon she was perfect from the moment she smiled at him.

After they met, they took a long walk together, both their guards following at a respectful distance so they might talk uninterrupted. They spoke on everything they could. Jon found out through his questions that she was 16, brave, loved roses, ate anything sweet, loved chicken, and was very big on wine. She was also adamant that she was no maiden, but she had her maidenhead intact. That told Jon she was very willing to experiment sexually and had done so already. This didn't bother him in the slightest, and in fact excited him a bit. He told her his age, favorite foods, favorite drinks, the way he liked to spend his morning and evenings when duties permitted and informed her he was no virgin himself.

Nothing they said bothered one another, and after some inquiries in this manner they moved onto other subjects. They spent each day when duties did not consume him, and sometimes when they did, talking. Some things he told her she found difficult to believe, and some were downright comical, but she came to love his company all the same. They spoke on the wars, the country, his plans for the north after this war was over, and his past and future plans himself.

They spoke on the gods, the different religions, the differences in their childhoods, and their desires from a marriage. He wanted to be cared for, loved, taken care of both sexually and emotionally, children, and a woman who would stand by him in whatever way she could. Margaery admitted she wanted a man who could love her, please her, make her feel safe, children, and a certain amount of freedom when it came to her own hobbies in life.

They decided about two weeks after meeting to go ahead and marry. Neither of them wanted an extremely lavish ceremony, and it would solidify their family's alliance. They believed they loved each other to an extent, and that this would only grow over time, so why wait? The ceremony was brief, under the weirwood tree as the old gods dictated. Margaery and Jon were both radiant in their happiness, and upon the kissing part of the ceremony they were the only ones not to notice the subtle pink misty glow that surrounded them.

There was a small feast, consisting of mostly roast chicken, roasted pheasant, blackberry sauce, hot fresh bread, butter, various soups and stews and roasted vegetables, with plenty of beer, wine, and water. Jon was introduced to northern milk by Mance and choked it down as best he could. Margaery got more than a little tipsy from the wine. Soon enough the bedding tradition came. They smiled, grit their teeth, and bore it with the same humility as thousands before them had. Jon had his new pretty wife screaming through the night as they left nothing unexplored and no stone unturned. When they awoke and stumbled down to breakfast, they were greeted with the smell of eggs, bacon, sausages, and mugs of ale along with good-natured teasing by all they spoke to.

Jon also met Lord Randyll Tarly. Tarly was clearly a soldier, and one of the heroes who had fought on the other side in the Targaryen war. Daenerys liked him, Mace liked him, and Jon grew to respect and like him quite a lot too. Many a day were spent with the men with Lord Tarly, who was impressed with the tactics Jon had taught them and took it upon himself to ready the men for the coming battles by teaching them the tactics he learned from Jon. He had the men drill from sunup to sundown each day, with a small break for a small feast in honor of the wedding. Jon grew to respect the man so much that he spoke to Mace and Randyll both about Randyll staying on as his Hand once the war was over. Mace was reluctant to allow this at first, but Margaery persuaded him saying it would make her safer, and Randyll was promised the Umber's lands seeing as the people there had been killed by the Walkers. Randyll accepted gracefully, and even seemed happy at the prospect.

"I have two sons, you see. One, my heir, is not fit to rule our homeland. I would convince him to come here and rule this land instead, so that I might keep the whole family happy. I will be here serving you, and my wife and daughter can come here while my youngest rules our family's home." Randyll told Jon. At first Jon was a little confused at how a man could speak about his eldest son in such a way, but he dismissed it as none of his business how the man ran his own family.

All of this came to an abrupt return to reality when a raven message arrived for Jon. It was hastily written, clearly in panic, and informed him that the White Walkers were coming, and had already taken several northern strongholds. Everyone was looking at him when he raised his head from reading.

"They are coming." Jon said simply. All fell to silence in the gravity of the moment, and a shiver went around the room so fiercely that Margaery grabbed Jon's hand for comfort.

One week later

They had spent all week preparing. The soldiers had drilled mercilessly, the defenses had been strengthened further, the food stock had been taken and supplies rationed in anticipation of a four-month siege, and Jon had ordered the graves and crypts dug up and the bodies burned. Nobody but Margaery agreed with that decision, but it must be done. The gods had still not been in contact, and Jon had a slightly new worry now. He didn't know if it was due to his powers, heritage, or something else entirely, but he could now feel Margaery's emotions and she his.

All of his personal concerns had been set aside however, in light of what was coming. Everyone had been taking turns at patrol and commanding the area, so nobody tired out like they had at Castle Black. Eight-hour command changes had occurred, along with eight-hour rotations, and all runners had been instructed to wake any sleeping commanders in the event of an attack. The attack, when it came, surprised them by coming at night.

Darkness had just fallen, and they had just lain down it seemed when a runner awoke the commanders from their beds. Jon kissed a worried Margaery and hurried down to the front gate. In front of the gate stood what was easily tens of thousands of wights. Interspersed amongst them were the White Walkers atop their dead horses. Without preamble and with a mighty simultaneous shriek, the enemy surged forward. Jon took a deep breath. They were ready for this.

As soon as the wights reached the gate and the walls, a great fire was lit with torches, encircling the entire castle. Wights burned in the fires numbering in the hundreds, and they still continued to throw themselves against them. Finally, enough wights were consumed that the fires were put out and the others could cross with ease. When they touched the walls and began to climb them, the spikes on the walls burned them every time one touched them. Soon they discovered they could not climb, so they went for the gate.

The gate had been made with valyrian steel. It could not even be touched by the wights, and they burned when they tried. Next, a bone-chilling cold came over everyone. Jon was prepared for this, and at his command several fires were lit, and they stayed that way thanks to several men constantly tending them. Snow began to fall, so heavy it obscured their sight, and all fell silent. Suddenly, they heard a screech below them, and Jon watched through the snow as a Walker touched the spikes on the walls and shattered them. Valyrian steel might hurt the titans, but it seemed it had to pierce them to do so. Jon cursed. At least they had foiled their first few attempts.

As the Walker moved toward the gate, part of their plan came to fruition. The Dothraki, horse lords in their own right, came from behind the castle on both sides. They mowed down the wights and the Walker shrieked and burst into mist as Ser Jorah, riding with the Dothraki, stabbed it with an obsidian dagger. More wights surged forward, and the Dothraki were mercilessly attacked. Having lost their charge advantage, they were slowly overwhelmed though Ser Jorah killed one more Walker before being forced to retreat into the castle.

The unsullied were waiting inside the gate. They had been drilled in Jon's tactics. That, combined with their own deadly efficiency, made for deadly warriors. As the gates closed, the wights that had made it inside managed to only kill one retreating Dothraki before the unsullied had ruthlessly and efficiently slain them all. Jon was glad to see things working out for them as the archers lined up and began to fire into the wights and Walkers alike. Several shrieks were heard and Lord Mace Tyrell laughed at what he perceived as despair from the Walkers.

"They did not expect us to be so prepared!" He cried out in glee.

"True, but I don't think the surprise shall last long." Jon replied stoically. Oberyn nodded in agreement.

At that precise moment, the lead Walker walked through the enemy ranks. Nothing seemed to kill him. Valyrian arrows bounced off his armor, the doors did not harm him when he placed his hands on them, and anything with fire that came near quickly fizzled out. Daenerys and her dragons took to the sky in that moment and began to burn the wights and other Walkers with ease, and still their leader showed no despair, nor did he even look as if he cared. With slow movement, he seemed to push some sort of power into his hand, and when he pushed on the gate, the valyrian steel shattered like glass.

The wights began to pour into the castle as the commanders stared in amazement. They recovered quickly, and the lines held, but more and more began to make it through the gate. The dragons, though magnificent, could only spew fire so often and for so long before needing rest. As one came close though, Jon watched in horror as the leader, Kronos, grabbed an ice spear from his back and threw it with deadly accuracy. It sailed through the air smoothly, and right into the neck of the smallest dragon. Jon had no time to pay attention beyond that, as wights began to come over the walls and he was suddenly fighting for his life.

The fighting was fast paced, the enemy cruel. It wasn't long before they had to retreat from the top of the walls to the courtyard. Every man was fighting for their life. Flashes of the battle were caught by Jon. Mace Tyrell fell with a broken leg but was saved by his son. Randyll Tarly beheaded a titan as he bellowed orders. Daenerys still burned wights with her two remaining dragons though with faster fly-bys now. He watched as Oberyn stabbed another titan with his new valyrian spear. Joy was on his face as he yelled out a number in a game they frequently played to see who killed more.

"Twelve!" He shouted to Jon in glee before twirling around to attack his next opponent. What happened next horrified Jon, as Kronos himself stabbed an ice sword through Oberyn's neck. Oberyn stabbed at him with his spear, but it broke on contact. Kronos tossed the body aside and left him to die as he turned to Jon.

"A nuisance." Kronos spoke in that ancient language Jon seemed to understand. "Jon Stark, son of Ares and Aphrodite, blessed by all the gods! Come, let us test our power against one another before I finish my takeover. I'll kill you, the gods only hope, before moving on to the rest of this world. I heard you were married recently. I know just what to do with her…"

Jon yelled in anger and struck like a viper. As fast as he was, as good as he was, Kronos was better. Jon stabbed, slashed, sliced, and parried while dodging and ducking like a madman. He never lost his form, and he used all his speed and strength. For all that, it seemed as though Kronos merely toyed with him.

"Come boy, is that the best you can do? Surely those pathetic gods taught you better than this!" Kronos taunted him. "Have you no powers? Perhaps you delay in hopes the gods will save you? I sent a force to occupy them weeks ago. My true brethren are not here. They are occupying your precious gods as we speak."

Jon's eyes widened in horror. The Walkers they had been killing were mere decoys, either minor gods who had joined the titans or constructs created through the titan's evil form of magic in order to control their massive army. Kronos caught his look and laughed harder before pressing Jon. In that moment, Jon let loose a blast of fire. Kronos was too close to dodge, and Jon could tell it hurt him, but it didn't kill him and only left a few black marks. Kronos let loose a blast of cold air at him that Jon heated up instantly.

He threw a ball of fire at the titan then followed up with a slash of his sword. Kronos' ice sword sliced through the fireball and blocked his strike simultaneously. Jon willed the pieces of broken obsidian around him from various weapons and the ground itself to fly in deadly arcs at Kronos as he locked their blades in place. Kronos shoved him using their locked swords and Jon flew onto his back from the superior strength, and the titan rolled, dodging the deadly debris. Jon struggled to his feet, panting for breath. Though he felt stronger than before, it still taxed him to use powers gifted to him. In that moment, something broke inside him.

It was like a dam had broken, and he was flooded with power. A red glow surrounded him, and he fought like a madman once more, matching Kronos' speed and strength, and the titan seemed unable to land a blow on him. Many had fallen around him, friend and foe alike, and Jon took no notice. He was consumed by his hatred, his desire to kill the unkillable. He continued fighting like a demented hurricane, felling all enemies who came near him while attempting to carve Kronos' undead heart out. He finally landed a blow on the titans chest, cutting through the armor, and it seemed Jon's weapon hurt him.

He bellowed in pain, and then screamed a word of power in defiance. Jon slammed back against the castle doors behind him and slid to the ground. Suddenly as it came, his power deserted him, and he fell limp, his strength depleted. Kronos strode up to him and leveled a sword at his chest.

"You got close, boy. Nobody has ever managed to mark me, not a mortal at any rate, godling or not. Such bravery and skill should be commended. Join me, and we could have this world at our fingertips." Kronos said persuasively.

"No." Jon answered stubbornly. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction. At least he hoped the gods had managed to win their fight and get away. With their powers restored by all of Jon's hard work, they could mount a defense in the south.

Kronos sneered at him and raised the sword before being blasted onto his back with a blinding white light. When Jon's sight recovered, the gods stood before him in full battle regalia. His mother and father stood directly in front of him protectively.

"Get up, Jon." Ares spoke. Strength seemed to flood into Jon, and he stood wearily. He grabbed his weapon as Zeus himself stepped up to Kronos.

"You should have stayed dead, father. I will find a way to make you fade one day. For now, Jon, step forward." Zeus spoke. Jon stepped up beside him. "You made today possible through your actions. You already cut him. Now we stab him together and send him and these foul creatures back to Tartarus."

Jon nodded, and in a historic occasion, he and Zeus both stabbed into the Titan of Time. Kronos shrieked, but unlike his brethren, he slowly cracked over until he burst into pieces rather than mist. Zeus snapped his fingers and the pieces disappeared. Immediately, all the other Walkers and wights fell to the ground and burst into mist. As soon as they did, Jon gasped and doubled over in pain and strength and fire flowed in his veins. It was over as soon as it started, and he stood back up to face the gods as everyone watched in awe.

"Now, you are truly one of us, as is your wife. Our gift to you, as promised so long ago. You have fought long and hard and brought the gods back up to their full strength. As such, you shall benefit from this the most. When you feel ready to join us, you have but to call and I shall escort you to our halls myself." Zeus said formally. The gods clapped simultaneously and with another bright light, they were gone.

When Jon looked around though, it was evident they had left some gifts. The dead had vanished, while those who had died fighting for them were set upon pyres outside the walls. Those remaining felt filled with a new strength and purpose. In the middle of the courtyard stood chests overflowing with gold, and crates of supplies, each with kingdom's name floating over them in red letters. It seemed the gods rewarded not only Jon's kingdom, but also all those who had helped, though Jon's reward seemed the largest by far. He also felt information, from all the gods, flowing into his mind and organizing itself. He supposed as a new god he should get used to that.

Two years later

Even with his newfound powers, the help of the gods, the money, and the supplies, it took two whole years to get everything where Jon wanted it. The dead had been burned, the allies had parted ways with many tearful farewells between comrades, and people had gone back to their lives and rebuilt. Jon used his newfound wealth and power to rebuild the Wall, better than before, and to stockpile valyrian steel and obsidian. He rebuilt most of Winterfell, bigger and better as well.

Trade was flowing now, the northern kingdom was the richest kingdom for once, and the most advanced. Food was plentiful, the people were happy and healthy, and each year Jon had done something new for his people to better their lives. He had taken time to take Margaery and tour the kingdoms, visiting his sisters as well and ensuring they were happy. They acted like newlyweds the entire time they had been together, talking during the days and learning more about one another, and making sure the gods themselves heard their pleasurable activities at night.

All of that was great, but the one thing Jon could officially say that made him the happiest had occurred last night. Margaery had turned to him in the bed after they made love and told him she was pregnant. He had been excited, scared, and concerned all at once, and she had laughed at the look on his face before explaining it all to him including what to expect. In that moment, she had never looked more beautiful to him.

All in all, the world had gone back to normal, and would continue to be for many years. Ares and Aphrodite turned away from the mirror in which their son had scried them to tell them the news. The baby would be a minor god as well, they were sure, and they couldn't wait to meet it. The time had finally come once again. The time where gods would once more walk among men, and magic would come alive in the world in a golden age that had not been seen for centuries…

The End