Tyrion
The news of the Queen's pregnancy spread like Wildfire. All over Winterfell there was gossip about her and her children. It brought the mood and morale up to great heights. For Tyrion, such a thing didn't just boost his morale, it gave him hope, something he'd hadn't had much of lately. Because of this he was able to handle upcoming issues with a greater performance than usual and he was more confident in their success. Currently, he tried to have Gendry take a moment away from his forge to discuss his new status and responsibilities with Varys, but the boy seemed to calm down while working his metal. He was in the middle of forging a steel gorget and was etching something in the front of the collar.
"Just so we know what we're dealing with," Tyrion said, "how much do you actually know of what a lord is?"
"Lords live in castles, they have lands, servants, soldiers, and the bad one's drink wine more than they fight." Gendry told them.
Tyrion turned his head to Varys, not sure whether to deny it or agree with it. "It's a start I suppose." He leaned up against an anvil the wasn't in use at the moment. "From the outside, being a lord appears to be simple. You do rule over lands, people, and soldiers, but you also have a duty to them. Should problems or conflict arise, it will your job to settle such things."
"I told Arya the same thing I'm about to tell you. A lord doesn't rule over people, he serves them."
"Yes, the good lords do."
"All my life I've served people, why do I want to keep doing that?"
"Because," Varys intervened, "you will be showing the people that they have a good place to call home. A place they know they can be safe and live happily. You yourself grew up in Kings Landing under the rule of your father, Joffrey, Tommen, even Cersei. How did that work out?"
Gendry paused at his work, thinking over Varys's question. "I had a job, I made money, I even had a small place to live. But, everyone else didn't seem that lucky. There wasn't a day in the city when there wouldn't be a dead body in one of the streets. I would've left sooner, but I had nowhere else to go."
"Am I correct in guessing that everyone of those dead bodies had the same problem?" Tyrion asked. Gendry nodded silently and resumed his work. "I've never been to the Stormlands myself, but I do know that it's better there than it is in King's Landing. As a lord, you could make sure that there wouldn't have to be horrific things in the kingdom like there are in Kings Landing. It won't be easy work. That's the truth of it, but best things in life are never easy to get."
Gendry looked up and scowled at him for stating the obvious. "I already know everything you're telling me. I'm a smith, I spend days to weeks making the best of what I can. What I don't know, is why I have to do it at all. Can't I just have others take care of those problems for me?"
"Your father chose to live his life the easy way and let others do the work for him, and we all know how that turned out." Tyrion let that sink in for minute so Gendry could understand. "You don't have to all the work by yourself, you can have others to help guide you. In fact, we were thinking of asking someone whom you trust-"
The conversation was cut sort by the sound of the dragons screeching in the sky. Everyone looked up and saw Ygris, Drogon and Rhaegal fly over the castle to the fields. Varys informed Tyrion earlier that Brandon Stark informed him that the dragons left to rescue the hunting party. Desperate to know the outcome, Tyrion rushed from the forge with Gendry and Varys to go see if they were successful.
When they exited the gates, now joined by a few soldiers, Tyrion could see more men than had left dismounting Rhaegal. Among them was a bound person with a bag over its head. Tyrion and the others stopped to keep their distance from the dragons and took a moment to notice the bound person's rotting flesh and despicable growls. "They did it." Tyrion said as he pressed forward alone, grinning at the success. He saw Tormund, Brienne, and Jorah among others he did not expect to see. Lowering the undead body off the dragon was Sandor Clegane. The others on the ground who caught the body were two men Tyrion did not know of.
The moment The Hound jumped off the dragon, Rhaegal roared and spread his wings. The force of his flaps pushed knocked Tyrion backwards onto the ground as he took to the skies, flying back to North leaving the other dragons behind. When Tyrion picked himself up, he noticed that there was still one dragon missing among those he's seen returned.
"Tyrion," Jorah said as he approached him, "we captured a wight… but we paid a terrible price."
"Viserion died?" Tyrion asked with disbelief. He thought nothing could kill the dragons. "Daenerys won't take this well, even after the blessing that's happened."
"What blessing?" Jorah asked.
"Daenerys is pregnant with twins." Tyrion hoped that would uplift Jorah's spirits, but he looked even more distressed. "Something else happened." He suspected.
"Viserion wasn't the only one who fell beyond the Wall." Jorah turned to face everyone else who came with him, revealing a terrible fate to Tyrion.
He became mortified when he realized what Jorah meant. He became filled with hate towards himself and his stupidity. All of his plans he's made to benefit Daenerys backfired ever since they returned to Westeros. He lost Dorne, the Reach, and the Iron Islands. Now because of him, the Kingdoms had lost their king. "I'll be the one to tell her." Tyrion said quietly as he turned around and walked back to the castle, silent to everyone and himself.
He stood outside the door to Daenerys's room and hesitated to knock. He'd never had to do something like this before and he was afraid to. He thought of how he could make things up to her, but then he realized that nothing could. "You don't have to do it alone." A woman said from behind him. Tyrion didn't need to turn around to recognize Missandei's voice.
"You know?"
"Everyone does. It doesn't take long for words to travel. The only one who doesn't know is in that room."
"I figured as much." He finally turned to face Missandei who looked just as scared as he did. "Please come with me." He wasn't sure if he could tell Daenerys alone. Missandei nodded to him, giving a saddened but reassuring smile. Tyrion knocked on the door and waited, every second feeling like a lifetime.
"Come in." Daenerys said. Tyrion opened the door and walked inot the room with Missandei close behind him. Danerys was in her bed, still resting from her sickened episode. "Tyrion, Missandei, what do I owe the pleasure?"
Tyrion couldn't look her in the eye, he didn't have the courage to. "Daenerys, the dragons returned with those that went north of the Wall. They were able to capture a wight."
Daenerys somehow could feel his sorrow radiating from him and knew something was wrong. "What happened?"
"Not everyone made it back, and not all the dragons." He finally looked up to her and saw her afraid of what he would tell her. "Viserion died at the hands of the Night King. From what I was told, Jon fell shortly afterwards." Daenerys looked away from him to the foot of her bed, looking as if she were begging for the news not to be true. Her mouth began to shiver and she was on the verge tears. Tyrion walked over to an end table and removed his Hand pin. "After one too many failures, I would like to resign as your Hand." He placed the pin on the table and left it there. "I'm sorry." He walked out of the room, leaving Daenerys with Missandei. Even as he got far from the room, he could hear her crying echo throughout the hallways.
Rickon
Everyone was disappearing all around him. First Ghost left, then Jon, then Arya. Even with Bran helping Rickon develop his greensight, he couldn't find Ghost anywhere in the North. The news about Jon devastated him, but even when he heard it, he didn't cry. He felt sad but he wouldn't allow himself to show weakness. But in case he couldn't hold back his tears, he decided to be with the only person who didn't care, Bran. The two of them sat together in the Godswood, not saying anything to the other. Bran had his hand placed on the weirwood, having a vision of Gods know where. Rickon didn't want to join him, he had too much to think about.
With Jon gone, what would happen? Would they win the fight against the dead? Should they just leave the North and sail to an island? Too many questions, no one to answer them. One question lingered in Rickon's mind more than any other. 'Why do people I love have to die?' His father, Ser Rodrick, his mother, Robb, Osha, Shaggydog, and now Jon. What started all these things that led to so much death? Was is when Littlefinger killed Jon Arryn and said it was the Lannisters? Was it when Rhaegar ran away with his aunt Lyanna? Or was it when his father died that everyone else followed after him. What event was the stone that was thrown down a mountain that became a rockslide?
Rickon couldn't take anymore, he needed to get away from all of it, and he knew exactly how. He stood up from the snow-covered ground and placed his hand on Bran's shoulder, following him to wherever he was. Instantly, Rickon found himself standing next to Bran on a cliff, overlooking a frozen lake with a small island in the middle. "You're just in time," Bran told him as he pointed down to the coast of the lake, "look down there." Rickon followed where Bran pointed and saw a familiar evil he met face to face.
"The Night King."
"He's already seen me, but he doesn't seem to care. In fact he wants me to see."
"See what?"
"Watch." From behind the Night King, a stampede of undead giants, consisting of at least thirty, charged to the frozen lake. The moment the first one stepped onto the ice, it cracked and gave in. Despite knowing this, the giants continued to run to lake and fall through the ice into the water.
"What are they doing?" Bran didn't say anything, he just kept watching. Moments later, the heads of some of the giants emerged from the water very slowly as they all tugged hard to get something extremely heavy out of the water. As their entire bodies came out drenched and heavily dripping, they pulled and pushed the body of the bronze colored dragon. Rickon couldn't remember the name as the Giants brought the body all the way onto the land and let go of it. They backed away as the Night King walked forward to the dragon's head and placed his hand upon it. After just mere seconds, the dragon opened its eyes and they were a color of an icy blue.
"That's how he'll do it." Bran said openly. "He's going to destroy the Wall with Viserion." As the dragon began to get back on its feet, the Night King looked at Bran and Rickon, showing a faint smile. "Time to go." Bran put his hand on Rickon's shoulder and they left the Night King and the undead dragon, but they weren't back in Winterfell. They were in the middle of a forest still beyond the Wall. From behind, Rickon heard the sounds of a fire burning and turned to see a man of the Night's Watch sitting next to one.
His horse was tied up to a tree and slung over the saddle was a large object wrapped in a Night's Watch cloak. "Good to see you again." The man said as he tossed a large stick onto his fire. "Is the dragon on its way?"
"Rhaegal just flew over the Wall as we speak." Bran informed the stranger.
"He can hear us?" Rickon asked, but was ignored.
"Rhaegal?" The man inquired. "After his blood father. How fitting." The man turned around to face Bran and Rickon, revealing his face. "You brought Rickon with you?" The man looked like a corpse slowly decomposing, but he wasn't a soldier of the Night King.
"He can see us too?" Rickon was very confused as to who this person was.
"Being undead gives one certain abilities." He cracked a small comforting smile to Rickon as he kept his distance.
"This our uncle Benjen." Bran informed. "He's been beyond the Wall fighting against the dead as best he can."
"Uncle Benjen?" Rickon couldn't remember ever meeting him before now, but he did see some resemblance to their father.
"I saw you once at the feast Ned held for Robert Baratheon, though you were too young to remember. Jon left with me to join the Watch."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right. There's nothing to be sorry about." Rickon's eyes turned to the horse and at the object over the saddle. "What's under the cloak?"
"Best you not know yet." The trees suddenly began to shudder and a great wind blew through the branches. The ground shook a moment later as the winds calmed down and a familiar screech was heard.
"He's here." Bran informed before he suddenly vanished, leaving Rickon with Benjen.
"Why is Rhaegal here?"
Benjen chuckled a small bit as he untied the reigns of his horse and guided it through the trees. "You're full of curiosity, aren't you?"
"Much has been happening on both sides of the Wall." Rickon informed as he walked with his uncle.
"Like what? Bran never visits me and I've been here for near seven years. I know Ned was murdered, I already knew about Jon since he was a boy, and the world's practically gone to shit. But we're short on time, so give me the short version."
"After father was murdered by Joffrey because he found out father knew he was a bastard, Robb called the banners and went to war, so did Renly and Stannis Baratheon, and Balon Grejoy after Theon betrayed us. Bran and I fled Winterfell and I stayed south while Bran went north."
"I rescued him from the dead after his training with Brynden."
"Who?"
"Another story for another time, continue."
"I traveled to the Last Hearth to seek help from the Umbers, but Smalljon betrayed me and gave me to Boltons. It was then I learned that Robb and mother were betrayed by the Boltons and the Freys and murdered."
"Robb's dead? What about your sisters?"
"Sansa's at Winterfell and Arya's in the Riverlands to save aunt Roslin and cousin Steffon from the Lannisters. Once she does, we'll have the Riverlands loyal to us."
That news was relieving to Benjen as the left the woods and entered a clearing were Bran and Rhaegal were waiting for them. "This is where I leave you for now."
"You're not flying with Rhaegal?"
"Bran's using as much influence as he can to keep that dragon from burning me to ash. I'll be heading to Eastwatch after this. Now that every Wildling North of the Wall is turned, the Main army will be meeting with the reserves far to the north on their way to the Wall." Benjen stopped his horse and pulled the object off onto his shoulders and carried it to Rhaegal.
"The reserves?"
"What Jon and his companions saw was the bulk of the Army of the Dead. After their skirmish, there's about a hundred fifty thousand foot soldiers left. But that's not the entire army. Theirs another seventy thousand in the Lands of Always Winter marching south."
Rickon was speechless. Not only was there an undead dragon, but now there would be over two hundred thousand of the undead coming for them all. Benjen casually climbed onto Rhaegal and placed what he carried on the dragon's neck before tying it down with a long rope. When he was done, he hopped down and Rhaegal growled fiercely at him before taking to the skies. He walked back to his horse and looked over to Rickon. "We'll see each other again, nephew. Maybe when the war's over and the True North is free of the dead, I'll show you some of the beauty this land has to offer."
Before Rickon could say anything, Bran placed his hand on Rickon's shoulder and brought them back to Winterfell. Rickon let go of Bran and took a minute to rest against the weirwood. "What was that he tied to the dragon?"
"Jon's body." Bran said bluntly. "Benjen managed to rescue Jon from the wights after the dragons left, but the cold took him afterwards. He's being brought back to us."
Rickon had a moment of hope, but Bran's knowledge shattered it instantly. "We'll bury him in the crypts next to aunt Lyanna."
"No we won't. Someone's coming to help him."
"How can anyone help him? He's dead."
"Didn't he ever tell you how he was released from the Night's Watch?"
Rickon suddenly realized he never asked Jon about that, neither did Sansa or Arya. In fact he was sure no one did. "What happened?"
Brienne
The news of Arya leaving left Brienne upset. She went north to keep her safe in Winterfell and days later, she leaves to go into just as much danger. However, given the current situation and the events that transpired, now wasn't the time to brood over such things. Everyone was in need of time to mourn the loss of their king.
Brienne had finally changed out of her heavy furs and into a thick tunic and cloak. Her armor was still at Eastwatch and a raven was already sent to have Ser Davos return with everyone's gear. It did not however, contain the news of the dragon and the king's demise. Such news would be better said in person.
The only thing to help push through the situation was to train with Pod. Unfortunately for him, Brienne had been venting her anger into her swordplay. They didn't even spar for ten minutes before Pod begged for a break.
While he sat against a railing, Brienne just leaned against her sparring sword. She became shocked as Pod removed his glove and revealed a nasty bruise below his wrist. "Podrick I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit so hard."
"It's alright, milady. Arya Stark said every injury is lesson."
"You've been practicing with Arya?"
"Whenever I could, though she didn't hold back as much."
The two of them were joined by the Hound who was carrying a sparring sword. "Have you come for a rematch Clegane?" Brienne asked casually.
"Fuck off." He spat. "Beric's speaking with the Stark girl and your Wildling lover is off moping like a lost little boy somewhere."
"He's not my lover!"
"Tell that to him. He wouldn't shut up about you the whole journey north."
"I know, I heard everything he said." She said harshly.
"Then are you gonna tell his fantasies about you or are you gonna show me some steel?" Brienne approached him quickly with her sword ready for combat. She swung high and was immediately blocked by Sandor. Already she could tell that his strength was greater than when they first fought. But her advantage was a small limp he had in his right leg.
She pressed forward putting on the defense, but he knew better than to let something like a limping leg get the better of him. What Brienne saw as an opening turned out to be a trap and as she fell into it, the Hound swept his foot underneath Brienne's leg and toppled her to the ground. Before she could even try to get up, the end of Sandor's sword was at her neck.
Not willing to give up just yet, Brienne slid her head to the side and grabbed the blade with her free hand and held tightly to it. She pulled the Hound forward and used her legs to flip him over her onto the ground. She sprawled up to her knees and held her sword against his neck, any movement and a real sword would cut a vital artery. "You're stronger, but not smarter," Brienne told him.
"No shit. You don't have to be smart to kill, just strong." Brienne stood up to her feet and offered her hand to him. He was hesitant, but he accepted her offer none the less.
Before they could have another match, a hound blasted that meant someone or something significant was approaching the gates. Brienne, Sandor, and Podrick left the training yard to go see what was going on. Through the gates, a familiar woman clad in red robes not suited for winter rode in on horseback followed by an escort of four men in very extravagant armor with a fire theme. Their faces all had tattoos of flames across their cheeks. She dismounted as Lord Tyrion and Lord Varys walked to meet her.
"Lady Melisandre," Lord Varys said, "I didn't expect you to return."
"I told you before Spider, I would return to the North and I would die in the North, just as you will."
"Luckily, Davos Seaworth isn't here yet. He's on his way back from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and he won't be here for at least a fortnight."
"I know. I had a vision in the flames that now is the time for me to return. Is the King here? I have business with him."
"My lady," Tyrion said softly, "the King died beyond the Wall during a hunt for the dead."
Melisandre closed her eyes and took a deep breathe, trying to remain calm. She did her best not to look affected by this news. "May I be granted an audience with the Queen? I come with the offer of help for the war."
"I'm afraid the queen has shut herself in her room for the time being. The only one she'll see is her advisor, Missandei."
"Do you know her?" Sandor asked Brienne.
"I met her at Castle Black when I brought Sansa there. She was an advisor to the King before he banished her."
"Let me guess, she did something for the Lord of Light."
"She burned Shireen Baratheon at the stake."
"I've killed children before," Sandor admitted, "never got banished for it. I was always rewarded for it."
Varys and Tyrion led Melisandre and her escort inside the castle while everyone else went about their business.
Evening fell and the skies grew clear for once. Such a thing was rare in the North during the winter and the colors of twilight danced among the clouds far in the horizon. Brienne decided to take a shift on the battlements on watch duty. Her anger was gone, but now she felt she needed to calm down, and the view of the North was always beautiful to look at. The sky began to twinkle in the east as stars began to sprout. The would be no moon tonight and Brienne was looking forward to the view of the night sky.
Brienne was looking over the eastern wall to what lied beyond, barely seeing the fires of camps in the distance. She as well as many others were informed that there was an army of near a thousand men from Essos that came to fight alongside everyone against the dead. Supposedly, the had the magic to ignite their weapons in fire just as Beric Dondarrion could.
As she kept her gaze on the fires, checking for any suspicious movements, she noticed out of the corner of her eye a blackened figure in the sky coming from the north. She turned he gaze and could barely make out the shape. It was the green dragon returning from his journey. As she kept her eyes on him as he got closer to the castle, flying low to the ground, she saw something fall of the dragon's back in into the snow-covered fields of Winterfell. The dragon didn't seem to notice as he flew over the castle to join his brother and the other dragons. Curious to see what it was, she left her post to investigate.
As she exited to the gates followed by a pair of guards, she kept her eyes on the location where the object fell. In the white of the snow, she could see a blackened figure moving. Brienne picked up her pace and started to run at whatever it was. As she got closer, she could identify a Night's Watch cloak attached to the wearer who was buried in the snow. She dug through the snow and saw the face of who wore the cloak. It was Jon, he was alive. "Your grace!" She turned to the guards who were still a distance from her. "Get help! The King is alive!" Jon lifted a hand onto her shoulder to steady himself. "It's alright your grace, your back home-" She was cut off abruptly when Jon's other hand shot around her neck and began to choke it tightly. She couldn't breathe and the tension began to hurt immensely. Brienne didn't understand why he would do something like this until he lifted his head up to her and revealed eyes that were bluer than ice.
