Pentos, 300 AC

Tyrion

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He filled his cup with wine once again and drank. It was all he did these days, it seemed. He had drunk his way across the Narrow Sea and would keep on drinking himself to an early grave, as Robert liked to say. What had the realm come to, when he would now consider Robert Baratheon to be a fine king? The man was an oaf, but he was still preferable to Joffrey.

Tyrion had been in Pentos for some time now, as a guest of Magister Illyrio Mopatis and the Spider. He told them that he would wait to know what he wanted to do in the near future, but that was a lie. He had no will to live, only to drink.

"Do go easy on yourself." said Varys as he entered.

"Piss off, eunuch." he said sharply. "What business is it of yours?"

"My, so much hatred."

"It is justified." Tyrion replied. "My sister wants me dead. My father wanted me dead. My brother lied to me about my wife."

"And is that a reason to waste yourself away?"

"Why would it not be? What do I live for?" everyone had abandoned him, even the ones that lived off him.

"Revenge?"

Tyrion laughed at the absurdity. "A dwarf with no army and no wealth? Those are not good odds."

"Wars have been won with less." Varys said. "You cannot hope to get your revenge alone, but what if another was to help you? Someone who hated your family as much as you do?"

"The entirety of Westeros you mean?" he laughed mockingly.

"I mean a dragon."

Tyrion put his cup down and thought. The Spider was proving himself to be a fool. "Daenerys Targaryen is more likely to put my head on a spike if I ever enter Qarth."

"Ah yes, Daenerys Targaryen. The girl has defied our expectations. Hatching dragons, practicing witchcraft- all these tales would be dismissed years ago, but now the proof is undeniable. She broke down the walls of Astapor and killed all the masters with her new weapons of fire. But I have reports that she has formed a new realm, which she calls United Cities."

"United Cities? That does have a ring to it." Tyrion said. "What does she plan to do there?"

"Free the slaves, remove the lords and make people happy."

"Ah, creating a realm where castles are made of gingerbread and the moats are filled with blueberry wine. She has a surprise coming for her."

"Mayhaps, mayhaps not." said Varys. "But the girl has found a new purpose, away from the troubles of Westeros. Illyrio wants to send a gift to her, and in return we hope that she will provide us with these new weapons and be convinced to turn her attention to the west."

"What is my purpose in this scheme of yours?"

"You will be among the retinue, under a different name. Go forth to the east and maybe you will find a new purpose as well. The ship leaves today." the eunuch finished and clapped his hands. A man came forth. He had the looks of a Rhoynar.

"This is Captain Yandry, a friend of the Magister. He will take you to his ship."

"I suppose I have no choice?"

"You do not." the eunuch smiled and sent them away.

The ports were not that far from the Magister's manse. Their ship, called Shy Maid, was docked nearby and the captain sneaked him inside. Even this far away, the price on his head would be enough to encourage a few cutthroats. Unlike the ship he arrived in, he did not have to hide under a crate, relieving himself through a hole. When properly settled, Tyrion took a good look at his companions. They were an odd-looking bunch- a man and a boy with ridiculous blue hair, a strange man with the grey robes of a maester and, to his surprise, a septa of all things. Each of them had a cabin to their own, except the captain and his wife who shared one. As for the gift Varys mentioned, Tyrion could not see anything. There was no chest full of treasure or fine offerings to a queen, only this ship and the people in it.

I need more wine.

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Castle Black, 300 AC

Davos

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The days were getting colder, marking the beginning of winter. Stark words always came true in the end, though there were no Starks left anymore, and the only man with their blood would rather stay with the Watch. These were really queer times- a bastard refusing a rare honor, wildlings crossing the Wall, and in the far east, dragons and witchcraft had returned. When one man says something, you can call him a liar, but when thousands say the same thing, it becomes truth. The king he served had once rebelled against the dragonlords. If the girl decided to follow in the footsteps of her ancestor, would Stannis stand a chance? Will the magic of the Red Woman be enough to protect him from the wrath of dragons?

Davos was at the top of the Wall, resting his ears after endless arguments with Jon Snow. King Stannis needed more men, but the new Lord Commander refused to send aid. No matter what he did or said, the lad refused to compromise. He was like Stannis in that regard, and too much alike for his own good. If the Boltons won, they will come for the Watch and the rescued wildlings next, and there would be no one left to stand in their way.

"Ser Davos." greeted a black brother.

"Do not mind me, lad." he replied, and the boy went back to his duties. It was a full moon, and the lands beyond the wall were visible, especially the burnt forest where they defeated Mance Rayder. Davos was the only one who remained at Castle Black, but he would soon have to join his king if he was not successful in convincing Jon Snow.

He wore a thick blanket to shield him from the cold winds. In the many winters he had seen, none had been this cold. If this winter lasted as long as the summer before it, there was no doubt in his mind that many folks will die. Yet the lords kept on fighting the war, caring little for the ones they crushed. Before he began to turn back, Davos took one last look and noticed something coming out of the forest. They looked like people.

"Boy! Come here!" he shouted at the same boy, who came running in. "Look over there."

"There are no wildlings left anymore. The Lord Commander saw to it." he said. "Then who…" his face showed fear, unlike anything Davos had seen before.

"What?" asked Davos, and then looked again. This time he understood- they were not wildlings. The group grew larger and larger as it appeared, until it covered the entire ground between the Wall and the burnt forest. Every black brother at the top soon came to the same spot, then chaos ensued. The horn was blown as loud as it could be.

UUUUUoooooooooo

One blast for returning rangers, Two for wildlings, Three for…

"The Lord Commander has to know." Davos told them. The group abandoned their posts and went straight to the stairs and the winch cage, trying to go down as fast as they could.

"We are not prepared for this!" a brother said, his hands trembling.

"The Wall will hold them back. What else it its purpose?" another added.

"Alright, just stay calm, all of you!" Davos yelled. "Jon will have a plan."

The winch cage was now at the bottom, but the people were not expecting what they saw. There was a battle amongst the brothers of the Watch, and a few men lay dead on the ground.

"What is the meaning of this?" Davos shouted. Eddison Tollett and most of the Watch were holding Alliser Thorne, Bowen Marsh, Othell Yarwyck and Jon's squire Olly.

"Dealing with these fucking traitors!" Tollett yelled back. "They killed Jon!"

"What?" Davos could not believe it. Yet as he moved in closer, there lay Jon, stabbed many times from the looks of it. His direwolf was in the cage, barking loudly. In the moment, he had forgotten about what he saw at the top, before someone reminded him.

"Did you fools not hear the three blasts!" a brother shouted. "The others are here."

"That is not possible!" said Tollett, though he was not himself at the moment. Two blows at once will do that to a man.

"The Wall still stands between us." another man said. Not long after, all of them heard a loud crack, and the voice came from above them. The cracks were growing louder and there were more of them. "What in seven hells…" was all Davos managed before a large chunk of ice fell on the Castle's keep, breaking its roof. More chunks followed, falling outside the castle one by one, crushing everything beneath them. The sound was like the wailing of a beast about to die, and louder than anything he had ever heard before. Then it dawned on him. The Wall will not last, and whatever was out there will come for them.

"We have to leave." Davos told Tollett. "I do not know what is happening, but there is no time to discuss."

"But…the traitors…."

"Everyone will be dead if we delay! By the gods, just give the order!"

Tollett calmed down and spoke again. "You heard him. Brothers, take whatever you can and head out. We have to warn the other lords of this." then he looked at the four culprits. "Take their heads. We have no need for traitors!"

The condemned brothers yelled and struggled, only to be hit again and again by those loyal to Jon. All four were forced upon a block, and four brothers took turns chopping their heads off.

"What of Jon's corpse?"

"There is no time to burn him. We will have to leave Jon here."

"We will take him with us then." said Davos. "That man does not deserve such a fate. We will burn him when we have time."

Tollett did not say anything but obliged his request. Jon's body was wrapped in cloth and put on Davos' horse. Jon's direwolf was freed, and the beast stayed close to his former master. Castle Black had less than a hundred men left. The brothers at Eastwatch and the Shadow Tower would eventually know of this as well. The wildlings nearby would be willing to help them, considering that the others would now inevitably cross into the Seven Kingdoms. Davos was not ready for this, neither was Stannis, but they would do what they could.


The last remaining men left the Castle, never stopping until they reached the wildling camp the next morning. Behind them, they could see and hear the Wall crumbling further. A thousand wildlings had made the Gift their new home, but it would not stay that way for much longer. Tormund Giantsbane came forward to receive them as they entered the camp.

"Why is every last crow here?" he asked.

"The Wall has fallen." Davos answered. "Hard to believe, I am sure, but it is the truth."

"Jon Snow?"

"Dead."

"I thought that bugger would live forever." said Tormund. "We found another one of yours today. That red bitch and the king's little girl."

"Lady Shireen and Melisandre?" he was shocked. Why were those two here and not with Stannis? "Where are they?"

"In that tent over there." the wildling pointed towards the middle of camp. Davos ran as fast as he could. Inside he found Shireen and Melisandre, not in the best of spirits.

"Ser Davos!" Shireen embraced him.

"My lady. Why are you not with King Stannis?"

"He…" was all she could say before sobbing. Melisandre spoke for her. "The King was defeated by the Boltons. Before the battle, he ordered me to take Princess Shireen to Castle Black."

How could this happen?

The woman continued. "He was not the prince."

Stannis had lost himself listening to tales of the Red God.

"Ser Davos, why is the Night's Watch here?"

"My lady, the Wall has fallen." he said, and the Red Woman now stood up and looked at him. "Jon Snow is dead, and the others will now cross."

"But those are just stories." said Shireen.

"I am afraid not, Princess. I have seen them with my own eyes. I cannot doubt Jon Snow."

"I saw him fighting, in the flames." Melisandre said.

"I suppose we cannot trust your visions anymore, my lady." Davos had no patience left for the woman and her flames. "We are going to burn his body soon."


A pyre had been prepared for the fallen Lord Commander. He had been relieved of his clothes, revealing stab wounds on his chest and belly. The Night's Watch and the Free Folk, as they preferred to call themselves, were in attendance.

"…He came to us looking for his place in the world. Time and again, his vows were tested, as the war took his father, his brothers and his sisters. Yet he remained at his post, loyal to his vows. He believed in the threat of the white walkers and saved the black brothers and the wildlings alike. His name was Jon Snow, our Lord Commander, and our friend. Now his watch is ended."

"Now his watch is ended." everyone repeated. Eddison Tollett went towards the pyre with his torch.

"Wait!" Lady Melisandre had come out of the tent. "Let me say a prayer for his soul."

"He kept the old gods, woman." Davos said.

"Let me say them nonetheless." she was adamant. Davos looked at Tollett who shrugged. "Be quick."

Melisandre went towards the pyre and touch Jon Snow's face, whispering something in his ear. It took a while before she left his side and made her way towards the people. Then suddenly, her eyes grew wide, and she looked towards the sky where the sun had now come out of the clouds. Her face lit up, and she looked overjoyed by something Davos could not understand. "My Lord…" she said, stretching her arms towards the sun, before she fell down. Davos rushed to her side but found her not breathing. There was no pulse in her veins, and though he did not know how, the red woman was dead.

In the distance, he heard the barking of Jon's direwolf, who came running to his corpse.

Then it happened.

Davos heard a loud gasp, like that of a man who has just been saved from drowning. He looked where it came from, and found that Jon had now stood up, breathing frantically. The wildlings and the black brothers stood and stared in shock.

"By the gods…" said Davos as he took in the sight. He rushed towards Jon who recoiled, but soon showed a sign of recognition. His eyes did not hint at fear or confusion, but at something more.

"Jon. How…?"

"We have to go." said Jon.

"Go where?" Davos asked.

"East."

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