The Living had won. Against all odds they had triumphed over the Army of the Dead. The Night King was slain by the White Wolf, Jon Snow. Tonight, the survivors would feast, tomorrow the war for the Iron Throne would begin.

It was after Tormund's boisterous toast to Jon, that she noticed the man in question gently set his ale horn down and quietly rubbing his chest, leave the great hall. For just a moment his gaze met hers. Something flashed in those grey eyes. It almost looked like fear. Immediately, Daenerys's mind went back to the moments before the battle, and the Jon's world-shattering news. She had not reacted well. She only saw a threat, never realizing how shattering the revelation would have been to him, his entire life had been a lie. Daenerys hadn't even been able to tell Jon what she herself had learned.

Looking around the hall, it was obvious that no one was paying her any attention. There was an unspoken divide in the hall. The Northern and Vale Lords were on one side. To the other, her Unsullied and the Dothraki intermingled with the Free Folk and various foot soldiers. It seemed the Small folk of Westeros seemed more inclined to accept her people than their lords and ladies were.

Daenerys set down her tea and quickly slipped away from the high table and out into the cold night.

The winding corridors of Winterfell always seemed dark and cold, yet since the Battle for the Dawn there was something else, something darker, and more morbid seemed to haunt the ancient castle's halls now, even after the fallen had been cleared. Daenerys fought back a shiver, wrapping her arms around her middle, she finally reached her destination, the Lords chamber. Or what was now the Lords chamber. They used to belong to Robb Stark. Jon's brother or cousin rather. Sansa Stark had claimed the real chambers for herself when Jon had been south. Daenerys didn't want to think about the spiteful redhead right now, however.

Ghost lay curled up at the door, as she approached the direwolf raised his head and whined forlornly at her. A sadness that Daenerys felt too was present. She knelt down and stroked his head behind his now missing ear.

"Why are you out here?" Ghost whimpered again and laid his head down. Daenerys sighed and stood. For a moment she hesitated, then taking a deep breath she pushed open the door.

The first thing she noticed was the cold, then the darkness. Exhaling, she could see her breath. Frost had begun to form on the inside of the windows. Jon sat before the hearth, only a few embers glowing within. Daenerys shivered.

"Jon." She saw him stiffen. "We must speak."

"Not tonight Your Grace." He said, still refusing to turn and face her. The words stung. Your Grace, not Daenerys or Dany. Daenerys stepped fully into the room shutting the door behind her. Walking over to the chair, she knelt, laying a hand on Jon's arm. Even the leather of his gambeson seemed freezing. Jon finally turned to face her. She fought back a gasp. He looked almost dead. There was no color in his face save for the dark circles under his eyes. How no one noticed how unwell he looked in the hall she did not know.

"Jon." She whispered " Are you well? What's happening to you?" He pulled his arm from her grasp.

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not." She reached up to cup his cheek but Jon's flinch had her drawing her hand back to her lap. The hurt must have been obvious on her face. He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Jon please. Let me in." After what felt like an eternity Jon removed his face from his hands, he stared blankly at the dying fire.

"I'm sorry about Ser Jorah." He finally said. Daenerys stiffened at the mention of her fallen friend.

"He loved me." She stated. "But I could never love him the way he wanted. Not the way I love you."

"Dany." He said it with such sadness. Her heart was about to be shattered again, maybe beyond repair.

"Is this about our relation, does it now disgust you so?"

"What? No!" Jon sat forward and took her warm hands into his freezing ones. The tips of his fingers almost looked blue. She needed to get him to a Maester. "It has nothing to do with you being my aunt."

"Is it about how I reacted in the crypts. I know I reacted badly, it was just so sudden and unexpected-"

"No Dany," he said, cutting her off. "I swear to the old gods and the new it is nothing that you have done."

"Then what is happening? Jon please don't shut me out." Jon just shook his head. "Whatever it is, you don't have to bear it alone." Daenerys cried, crawling onto Jon's lap. She took his face into her hands. "Tell me."

Jon looked into her beautiful violet eyes and took a deep breath, "When I killed the Night King, something happened…"

It was like the entire world had frozen. The shards of ice that were once the Night King sat suspended in thin air. Jon gasped and stumbled to his feet, nothing moved, silence sat over Winterfell in a chilling blanket.

"Congratulations, Aegon."

Jon spun, Bran was still sitting in his wheelchair at the base of the heart tree, staring at him blankly.

"Bran what happened, what is this?"

"You killed the Night King." Then Bran did something that should have been impossible, he stood and began to walk towards Jon.

"Bran."

"I'm not Bran. Bran died in a cave north of the wall. I'm the Three-eyed Raven." He reached Jon. "For the little that it's worth. I'm sorry about this next part. It will be unpleasant for you." Before Jon could even begin to try and comprehend what was happening, Bran or the Three-eyed Raven pulled a dragon glass dagger from his sleeve and plunged it into Jon's heart. Jon gasped, reaching up to try and fight but it was like all of his strength had vanished. It was like he was back at Castle Black during the mutiny. Cold began to spread from his chest. Unlike last time the world wasn't fading into darkness. If anything, it was becoming clearer.

"You see the Night King isn't just a monster made of ice. He was created by the Children of the Forest at the command of the Old Gods. But the Night King, he tried to fight the magic that created him, it was a pathetic attempt. He failed and the ice consumed him, turning him into that creature you just killed Aegon. He didn't want to destroy me for being the world's memory. He wanted to destroy me for ordering his creation. The Children soon realized their error in creating him. They tried to blame me, but I was able to convince them otherwise. Much like how I convinced all of you."

The Three-Eyed Raven paused and cocked his head.

"The Children and the First Men defeated him once, locked him away in the Land of Always Winter. But he gathered his strength and rebuilt his army. The time had come to put him down for good, and you did Aegon. Now you will take his place as our servant. With the blood of Old Valyria and the blood of the First men you will be stronger than your predecessor. You will not succumb to the darkness of the cold so quickly. You will live for eternity in between life and death, unlike your predecessor who was death only. Let me tell you a secret." Jon was on his knees, the thing that was once his brother leaning over him. "For the world to go on there must be balance. There must always be the Great Other. The enemy, the monster that parents will tell their children stories about at night to get them to behave. That singular being who strikes fear into the hearts of man, and turns them towards the gods." The Three-eyed raven stepped back and returned to the wheelchair. "That is why the Night King was created." The thing that was once Bran smiled sadly. "Goodbye Aegon."

Then the world was once again moving, a murder of ravens took flight as the dead fell and cries of victory rose around the battlefield. In the Godswood, Jon collapsed, clutching his chest as ice began to spread through his veins, staring at the lifeless body of his younger brother.

As Jon finished recounting what happened in the Godswood, Daenerys reached to his undone gambeson and pulled it and the linen tunic aside. The first time she had seen his scars from his resurrection, after the disastrous mission beyond the wall. She had been shocked. Since then, she had become intimately familiar with them often trailing kisses on the one above his heart when they coupled. Now, a seam of black dragon glass stood out against his pale flesh. Directly planted into the scar above his heart. Pulsing black veins seemed to spread from the shard. She reached out and gently traced her fingers over it. Jon shivered.

"Daenerys, I'm turning into the Night King."