Jon wasn't quite sure what to make of the revelations Sam had just revealed to him. On one hand, it explained why there were two dragons that were making a beeline for the Wall. There was another Targaryen on the wall, likely one who wasn't going by his birth name. Yet on the other hand, that once more left him with the question, "Then why am I having these dreams?" He muttered to himself, looking down as he leaned against his post.
Sam had come to Jon while he was on his watch on top of the wall, the fat Tarly pulling him aside to tell him what he had overheard Ser Alliser discussing with the old maester. It didn't surprise Jon too much that Thorne would speak to Aemon about his family in private, the knight was sent to the wall simply for being loyal to the house his family was sworn to after all. Those same loyalties likely hadn't diminished too much over the years.
Sam looked at his bastard friend in confusion at his comment on dreams, not having really expected him to say that of all things. Sure he had expected questions, things that they would likely end up speculating together, but asking of dreams he had been having? Jon had once confessed to him a while back that occasionally he had dreams where he saw from his wolfs perspective, though he was lost on what that had to do with dragons and hidden Targaryens.
Seeing the confused look on Sams face, Jon gave him a small smile and began to explain, "For a while now I've been having dreams. They're like the dreams I've had as Ghost, but I've been looking through the eyes of a dragon. One of the two that's come to Westeros, and likely one of the three the dragon queen hatched." He was somewhat able to understand how he was able to do what he did with Ghost. He raised him and had the blood of house Stark in his veins, which did have the blood of wargs in it. The traits simply hadn't appeared for a long time.
So why now? Why was the Stark blood allowing warging now of all times, and more than that, why was he seeing through the eyes of a creature he had never met, yet felt almost as close to him as Ghost was? Quite simply, it made no sense to the Snow. He had briefly considered that his mother was a Targaryen after these dragon dreams, but dismissed the thought. The only Targaryen by blood alive during the war was Rhaenys and Rhaella Targaryen. Rhaenys was killed as a child in Kings Landing and Rhaella died giving birth to Aerys' last child.
Simply put, there was no way that he had the blood necessary to bond with the legendary beasts, once more putting his hunger for knowledge of his mother on fire. He had also considered her being a Blackfyre, but had a feeling his blood wouldn't be potent enough if that were the case. Sam brought him out of his thoughts soon after, the fat steward looking amazed, "You're... you're warging into a dragon when you sleep?! Jon, forgive me, but when in the seven hells were you thinking of telling me!?"
"I mean, really!" He continued on, once more starting one of his infamous ramblings, though this time it would be mixed with the elements of a rant, "You're the best friend I have here at the watch, which Grenn and Pyp and Edd are nice and all but they never would've come along without you, and you know I aspire to be a maester and here you are hiding dreams of warging into a dragon! Something that could end up saving us from the Others and the wildlings! I-" He stopped upon seeing Jon raise his palm up, a small smile on his face and he realized he had been going off again.
Though at the very least he stayed on topic this time around. For the most part.
Jon shook his head in slight amusement, not being at all angry with Sam. He knew his friend wasn't trying to accuse him of anything, simply wondering why he hadn't been told. "Its not that I don't trust you Sam, and I do realize how important this is. However, you have to realize how mad it would sound if I came up to you and said I was dreaming of being a dragon that was coming to Westeros. Even with everything we've seen, would you be able to believe me completely without it already becoming common knowledge that dragons were in the kingdoms?"
His friend held a frown on his face, and though he likely saw the logic in his words (He knew Sam was too smart not to) he still seemed to insist on the matter, "Jon, I've seen the whites. I've killed one of the Others. And most importantly, I trust you. If you told me that rainbow colored grumpkins were hiding under your bed, I'd believe you. Not because its easy to believe fairy tales and legends, but because its you. Because if Jon Snow told me something, then it means its true or at the least its close enough to the truth that he believes its true. You're not mad, you're not a fool, and I know you wouldn't lie to me."
It was long winded, it was focused and it took him a while to get it all out. But it was probably one of the best things his friend had ever said to him, showing his complete and unfailing faith in him. Feeling touched, he gave his friend a warm smile, "Thank you, Sam. Its nice of you to say that, least one of us has faith. I'll remember not to keep anything like this from you again, you have my word." The more time spent at the wall, the more he realized that Sam had proven to be just as much his own brother as Robb had been.
He still couldn't stop the pang of pain that came from thinking of his trueborn brother though. Or the rush of rage and need for blood that made him want to rip the Boltons to shreds. Despite having quite the hold of his temper, there were times where his anger flared like a raging inferno, ready to turn those to ash who had crossed him. So far, it was all too easy to conjure this rage.
All he had to do was think of Roose Bolton and Walder Frey.
Before they could continue to ponder what exactly it meant for dragons to head to the wall, or rather who this other Targaryen was, they saw something. Looking out over the Haunted Forest, they saw the start of an orange glow deep within. As the light began to build in size and intensity, revealing itself to be the start of a large fire, Jon knew that it was time.
"Sam, sound the horn! They're here!"
It hadn't taken long for the watch to get into their positions once roused. They had been preparing for this moment for around a week now, they were as ready as they were going to get. The only way they would be able to improve their situation would be to get reinforcements, something that would not be happening. No lord would send their men to save an order of criminals, second spares, and bastards.
Ser Alliser stood next to Jon Snow, overlooking the fire Mance had said he would make to signal his attack. Truthfully, the old knight wasn't quite sure how they were going to survive this King-beyond-the-wall. Though he wasn't all too concerned for his own survival, as much as he was for the young man that was standing next to him. The fire the wildlings set to blaze dancing in his eyes. It was brief, but he was able to see the dragon that resided in him.
It made him all the more resolute in his determination to make sure he survived.
"Snow, I need you to command the men on the wall. I'm going to command the men remaining in Castle Black. If a wildling attack comes from the South as you suspect, we need to be ready for it, and we can't have all our capable commanders up here. I'll be trusting your judgement, Lord Snow." It always took a great deal of restraint on his part to refrain from calling him 'Your grace'.
Jon simply looked at Ser Alliser in slight surprise. He didn't drop the condescending titles or tone, but his rightful king didn't miss the trust that he was being granted. He was perhaps breaking a bit too out of the character he had set in regards to how he would act around Jon, but he would be damned before he put an incompetent fool such as Janos Slynt in charge of his men on the wall.
No, if there was anyone the old knight was going to trust to lead the men on the wall, it was to be Jon Snow.
"If they have giants as you say they do, use the scorpion. Try to kill as many as possible. Focus archer fire on any giant that gets too close to the gate, same thing for their mammoths. If they break down that gate, then all is lost. The wall will be overrun, and the North will be terrorized by a horde of raiders until they can finally muster a force to handle them." They both knew with recent events, it would take far too long to long for the North to organize against the threat. And Ser Alliser didn't need the North being in even worse condition when it came time for Jon to declare.
They needed to be halted here and now. He knew it was Jons hope that Mance could be made to see reason and relent if the initial assault was repelled, he had made that clear from the start. Though he had a feeling that despite the fact that Mance was made a king by a group of people that wouldn't kneel, he'd be just as stubborn as any southern king that he liked to scorn.
An upjumped oathbreaker becoming a king of savages and rapers. Truly, what a laugh!
"Hold the Wall, Lord Snow. Or we're all as good as dead." And with that, Ser Alliser turned away from the Targaryen in hiding, heading to the lift and making his way down to the castle once more. It was almost certain that the wildlings that had already climbed the wall would be preparing to assault the castle by now. The old knight could only feel somewhat thankful that they hadn't found a way to get a giant over the wall already, or they'd be in deep trouble.
Jon turned to look over the wall as the free folk began to advance from the trees, the great lumbering forms of a few giants being discernible among them for those who looked close enough. As the army of free folk made their preparation to begin the assault in earnest, Jon turned to the archers on the wall and raised his right arm in signal, "Archers! Nock!"
As the men currently under his command preparing flaming arrows to fire into what they saw only as a horde of savages, Jon looked on sadly at the people that simply wanted to survive. To get away from the monsters that were hunting them at night. To give their children a chance to grow old, and their elderly a chance to die of natural causes, "Draw!"
The spearwives and raiders were pressing ever forward, a giant on top of a mammoth being a part of the front line. A vanguard force, one that would have many others behind them ready to give assistance if need be for this assault. He waited for the free folk to edge further into range of the archers, no wanting to waste arrows and to maximize damage.
"Loose!"
He watched grimly as the small wave of arrows fell upon the free folk, felling dozens of men and women as they made their advance. None had attempted to specifically aim for the giants, even if they were massive targets they were still too far out for anyone to bother making a dedicated effort picking out targets to shoot. It wasn't a very impressive showing even if everyone fired in unison.
"Nock!" Yet despite all that, the free folk were not a disciplined army. These weren't soldiers marching against a fortress rank and file, these were disorganized raiders, people that normally warred with each other as much as they did the watch and the houses south of the wall. They wouldn't route from a few dozen arrows falling on them every now and then, but even so it would demoralize them.
"Draw!" The arrows would help distract the oncoming free folk from the defenses already in front of the gate, which would serve to inflict some minor casualties and injuries. It would also force them to slow down on their assault of that gate. If everything went well, the southern assault would be repelled, and all the men in Castle Black could be committed to fighting off the horde. It would only be a few dozen more men to fight, but it would help all the same.
"Loose!" Turning away from the great shadow of the horde coming towards the wall, now moving more quickly to advance on the wall, Jon looked at the men that currently surrounded the scorpion on the wall, "Load the scorpion and prepare a bolt for a second shot! We need to be ready by the time those giants are within acceptable range! If they are given free reign around the gate they'll bring it down and all our efforts to hold them off will be for nothing!"
Moving away from the Scorpion, he looked around the men on the wall with a frown on his face, "Keep an eye out for anyone climbing up the wall! If you see someone, drop rocks on them, if you see a large group, then swing the Scythe!" The Scythe was the name of a large bladed weapon on a chain, currently covered in ice within the wall. Once swung, it would destroy the bodies of anyone caught in its path.
Turning to Eddison Tollett after he was done issuing his reminders and orders, he nodded at his dour friend to signal him to approach, "Edd, I need you to keep the tempo of the archers while I oversee things. I can't keep all my attention on making sure they keep a proper pace. If the situation arises and I need to head down to Castle Black, you have command up here."
The ranger sighed and shook his head in slight despair, giving Jon a slightly scathing look at the order, "Just gotta increase my work load, don't ya Jon. Couldn't have chosen someone else." Shaking his head again, he turned away from the Bastard of Winterfell and moved forward, raising his voice to be heard over all the commotion, "Alright now, unless you all feel like dying a miserable death, nock!"
Back down in Castle Black, the wildling parties that had already made it south of the wall began their assault. It seemed that there were at least a hundred men and women that had made it south in preparation for this attack, likely more. They would've been completely overwhelmed from the start if it wasn't for the defenses they had set up earlier due to Jons warnings.
Three or four wildlings found themselves impaled upon the stakes, the wood having been painted dark to make it difficult to notice in the dark at first. It hadn't taken long to notice after the first few screams, the wildlings taking a closer look at the defenses the watch had prepared for them. They began a slower and more careful approach, one that began to cost them as the dozen crossbowmen that had been posted took aim and began to fire.
Several wildlings were shot and picked off, higher casualties being inflicted than if they hadn't set up the additional defenses in the first place. Ser Alliser knew it may have been a bit of overkill to arm the men with crossbows, a well maintained one could punch through armor after all. These men and women were armored with nothing but furs and tanned leather, with the occasional scraps of bronze.
One of the advancing wildlings took a bolt to the leg and stumbled forward, his throat being impaled by a stake and inflicting a quick death. Among the wildlings was a female archer, one that had only tried to fire on the crossbowmen once so far and ended up lodging an arrow in one of the mens throats. He hadn't remembered the name of this one, likely one of the newer cutthroats that had been sent to the wall for whatever crime he committed.
Over a dozen wildlings had already been killed in the attempted assault on the castle, and at the least he expected another dozen to be killed before they even began to climb the walls. As he thought that, he heard the shout of pain from one of his men and saw another of the brothers now had an arrow going through their left eye, coming out the back of their head. "Damn it. I want three men to keep an eye on the fuck that is shooting down our men! Once you see her, open fire!" They couldn't afford to just let an enemy archer pick them off. They didn't have many men to spare.
It wasn't long after he gave the order that he saw that same archer pop out of cover from behind a rock once more, taking aim at Ser Alliser. He moved out of the way right as she let the arrow loose, leaving the arrow to fly past him and leaving him to breath a sigh of relief. He heard multiple crossbows going off and popped his head out in time to see a bolt lodge itself in the girls shoulder and another in her leg, forcing her to take cover. He'd settle with her being injured, as long as she wouldn't be an issue from here on out.
"Good shot to whoever helped get her out of this fight! Now finish off the rest of these fucking savages! Put down the fuckers like the rabid dogs they are!" The men were more than glad to oblige the acting lord commander, emboldened by the fact that the enemy return fire wouldn't be quite as dangerous. A few other wildlings had proved to be somewhat decent archers, yet none of them posed the same threat as the ginger woman, even as a group. A pair of the remaining crossbowmen were taking care of making sure the remaining archers didn't become too much of a problem.
Turning away and making his way down to the courtyard, he had a look around to get the scope of things. Injured brothers were being dragged or carried to the maesters quarters to be taken care of by Aemon and his acolytes, with Samwell helping to carry some of the men there. The fat Tarly heir was being kept out of the battle, due to the fact that it would be more practical for him to serve in this way rather than as a soldier. "Tarly! I need you to get your fat arse up here! Some of the men here need first aid!"
He was also well aware of his increasing interest in the medical practices, in part due to the praise Aemon gave. He was the only acolyte set with a proper kit to move around and help the injured while the castle remained secure, being trusted to help advise some of the other acolytes as well in Aemons place around Castle Black.
He was also completely aware of how close he was to Jon, and wasn't keen on putting his best friend in the line of fire unreasonably to potentially get him killed or severely injured. Besides, he was sure he could think of a few ways the Tarly could prove as an asset to Jon, besides as a friend and an advisor.
Yet as the fat man scrambled to follow his orders, the defense suddenly seemed to begin crumbling. A wildling had thrown his axe into the chest of one of the brothers, leaving him with only a small dirk in hand. Another wildling followed his example and threw his spear through the head of another one of his men, the attackers now more than close enough to make accurate shots. With a third of the crossbowmen down, they now had a lot more freedom to act as well.
Slowly they started to climb once more, another archer taking a successful shot and putting an arrow through the heart of a ranger. Only two kept firing, with the other five crossbowmen taking out their blades as the first few wildlings began to make their way on top of the wall. Cursing at how things were beginning to turn against them, Alliser unsheathed his own blade to join the growing melee, "Damn it you weak fucks, don't let these savages push you back! Unless you want to end up in a Thenns belly tonight, start fuckin killing them!"
The old knight wasn't quite sure how much longer they would be able to last against the horde at this point.
Jon cut down a wildling with a quick stroke of his blade, the rippling valyrian steel blade already well coated in blood. It hadn't been long after giving command of the archers over to Edd that a couple of free folk had begun to assault the men on top of the Wall. Though the bastard wasn't quite sure where they came from, he had a feeling they had gotten to the top of the Wall likely just before the fire started, or at the least they had been close to the top. It wasn't a large force, but it was more than enough to begin causing chaos among the men.
He parried the strike of another free folks bronze blade, quickly finding an opening in the mans style and thrusting his blade forward, his sword sinking into the enemy's chest and running him through. Breathing somewhat heavily, the old bears former steward looked around and saw a few other rangers finishing up the attempted assault, Grenn at the head as he mopped up the remainder with a group he had rallied around him. As order began to return to the men Jon was left to lead, the bastard went to go and check on the progress of Castle Black, only for his eyes to widen at the chaos ensuing down below.
The free folk had broken through and were running rampant through the courtyard of the Castle. He couldn't make out any specific details from the battle from up top, only that they had made it in. Raising his blade in the air as a rallying point, he raised his voice so as to be heard over the chaos, "Brothers, to me! The enemy has broken into Castle Black!" It was all he needed. Grenn and ten other rangers quickly made their way to Jon, the adrenaline from the recent skirmish not even close to having worn off. As they all piled on to the lift to head down, he turned to give one last order before he went down, "Edd! You have the command in my absence!"
He didn't wait to hear his friend curse his name with the worst of obscenities known to him. He had to move quickly if he wanted to kill the men and women that simply wanted to survive.
If he hadn't already resolved to do whatever was necessary to keep his home and the realm safe, then this likely would've proved to be a trying test for him.
It truly was chaos. A few other rangers had already boarded up the maesters quarters, protecting the wounded and the elderly maester within. No where else was secured in such a fashion, with several sworn brothers locked in fierce combat with the free folk. As Jon took scope of the situation, he began to quickly give orders to the men he had brought down with him. "I need four men to take some crossbows, pick your shots carefully and start killing the warriors that have already broken in. The rest of you, spread out and start helping where you see fit! We need to push them back!"
As the men rushed to follow his orders, with Grenn and seven others immediately joining the melee, Jons first move was to run to the kennels. He could feel the call of his closest friend without seeing him, and knew that in such a battle his ferocity and prowess in combat would be sorely needed. He blocked the strike of an oncoming warrior, grabbing the mans wrist where it held the blade and striking his temple with the hilt of his sword, staggering him and dragging him into unconsciousness.
'If I tried that with Tormund he would've broken my arm for the attempt.' He thought to himself idly, only to have to quickly dodge the swing of an axe from a Thenn. The weapon was crude and unwieldy, and he dodged the next strike just as easily, swiftly cutting the man down with little hesitation. Even the rest of the free folk weren't fans of the Thenns, and Jon held the same distaste for them as any other "true northerner".
Upon making his way to the kennels, he wasted no time in unlocking them and opening it, letting loose the massive beast within. Out came Ghost, the massive direwolf only a few hands shorter than most horses. He stayed silent as he looked upon his partner, before looking to the chaos currently ensuing throughout the castle. With Jon setting his eyes on the Magnar of Thenn, he tightens his grip on his hilt nods at Ghost.
"Lets go."
The son of the North charged into battle, his direwolf right behind him as a silent shadow. Ghost quickly pounced on a spear-wife that got into Jons path, his claws easily tearing through her light armor while his teeth ripped out her throat, leaving her as but another body on the ground as Jon passed them. Nearing a pair of dueling warriors, Jon knew now wasn't the time for honor as he ran the free folk through from behind, freeing up his sworn brother to help elsewhere in the battle with a nod of acknowledgement.
It hadn't taken long for the Magnar to take notice of Jon making his way to him, the cannibal grinning as he finally had the chance to have a go at the crow. He was only one of many who had wanted a chance to split his skull open, and he was more than glad to oblige him here. His axe whirled above his head with ease, as if he wasn't handling a large and unwieldy battle axe. His initial strike was quick, with Jon making sure to keep out of reach only to have to redirect the second strike, the Magnar having used the energy of the first strike to continue his assault.
The swordsmen tried to stick to dodging and keeping the Thenn out of reach as he looked for an opening, knowing if he tried to block that despite the quality of his blade it would be shoved aside due to the power behind the strikes. Being left so open would only lead to a quick and grisly death. Jon was momentarily distracted by another free folk warrior, only to have the Magnar suddenly rush in close. Jon did the best he could to redirect the strike after Ghost grabbed the secondary warrior, only to have the Thenn headbutt him in the face. With a busted lip and broken nose Jon yelled out in shock, stumbling back as the Magnar continued his assault.
His quick reflexes helped him, but the skilled killer was getting closer to a fatal strike as he refused to allow him to regain a semblance of stability. Before he could succeed however, Ghost jumped at him from the side, the massive wolf ripping apart the screaming Magnar. The cannibal leader struggled and attempted to throw off the white wolf, his struggles slowing and becoming weaker as his life blood pooled beneath him. Ghost lifted his bloody muzzle away from the opponent with a snarl, running off in search of another opponent that could prove a threat to his master.
They seemed to be regaining control of the situation at last, only for one of the men in the yard closer to the gate to shout out in alarm, "Look! More wildlings are climbing over the battlements, its a fucking second wave!" Jons blood froze at the call, looking around the courtyard at the wounded and dying around the courtyard. A few men from the maesters quarters left it to bring in the wounded brothers and to replace them for the battle ahead, but it was clear it would be nowhere near enough.
It would seem Mance had sent even more raiding parties south of the Wall while Jon was preparing at Castle Black. While the first wave caused chaos in the courtyard and killed more of the Nights Watch, the second wave must have approached. It was a simple strategy, but it had worked nonetheless.
'What can we do? We can't pull any more men from atop the wall without risking the defense up top and of the gate becoming too weak...' Jon thought to himself, looking around and locking eyes with a disheveled and wounded Ser Alliser, blood trailing down his arm and seemingly missing a few fingers. It was clear the old knight was just as lost as he was on their next course of action.
As the free folk began to invade with fresh troops, Ghost snarling beside him, Jon simply tightened his grip on Longclaw with a resigned sigh. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins."
Ser Alliser was the next to speak up as he came to stand next to Jon on his left, his own eyes determined and the grip on his blade still strong, "It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children."
Grenn stood to the right of Ghost as he joined them, holding his own bastard sword in a two handed grip as his eyes held a fire to keep away the cold of despair, "I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness."
All the remaining warriors within the yard joined the growing group, all speaking as one as they repeated the oath they took that bound them as brothers, "I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come." They were all determined to die with a sword in their hands and taking as many raiders with them to the grave.
A grim smile upon his face, Jon kept his face looking forward as the wildlings began their charge, "It was an honor to serve with all of you, brothers. Now give these bastards a thrashing they'll remember!" They were halted near immediately after they began their charge at a cry in the night. Everyone, free folk and brothers of the watch alike, looked around in search of the source, all confused and shaken from their bloodlust for a moment.
Jon was the only one to not be confused by the noise. It was the sound of an animal that had been filling his dreams for days now, a beast more mighty than any other. Something even his direwolf would not be able to easily best. The bastard of Winterfell could only be stunned into silence, as the end started.
With a final cry and appearing from the darkness, a dragon with scales of emerald and bronze descended on the group of free folk, a bit smaller than a destrier. And with him came the dragon of creme and gold, both of them giving the invading free folk only a glimpse before they were bathed in fire. Screams filled the air as the wildlings ran from the dragons, shocked and unable to fight this new and unfamiliar enemy.
Watching in stunned silence as the remaining free folk were put to flame, with a few running in search of a place to hide, while a few threw down their arms in an attempt to surrender, Jon looked over to the old knight next to him to see his reaction. The old man, instead of seeming at all surprised, looked gleeful and relieved. If Jon didn't know better, he would think the exiled loyalist had been expecting their arrival.
As he watched the raiding parties be finished off by the dragons, Jon couldn't help but think what this would mean for the wall Nights Watch.
Aemon continued his work in silence as the cries of battle and pain began to lessen, having been more than aware of the cries and screeches that had began outside. He had a feeling he knew what they were, his dragon blood coming alive when the cries started and the slightest amount of light seeming to filter in to his eyes. He was still blind, but it seemed simply being near the dragons was enough to give him sort meager source of vitality.
It was to be expected. Dragons were magic incarnate, and Targaryens were meant to be bonded to them, their own blood holding a great deal of magic. He knew their house had always been incomplete when the last of the dragons had died out, some part of them having died with them. Now it was to be reborn with their return, as a small portion of his sight finally returned to him.
"And I feared I would never have the chance to meet a dragon... I wonder what you would think of this, Egg." The old maester muttered to himself, a few of his acolytes shifting around him to give him a curious stare. He had done what he could for the injured at this point and knew there was no point in staying indoors with he battle ending. He opened the door, to the protests of those behind him, and left to look around the bloodied courtyard.
His vision was nowhere near as clear as it was when he was younger, but he was able to make out some minor shapes and colors at a distance. Whenever he got close enough to something, he was able to see it with extreme clarity. He looked around and saw the brothers of the watch gathering up the bodies of the wildlings and piling them to burn, while the rest gathered those who had surrendered and bringing them to holding cells.
He stayed silent and looked around the courtyard slowly, simply taking in the vague images as best he could while he had the chance. He turned to the lift as it shuddered to a stop, with a man coming from the lift and making his way to the yard.
Hearing a dragons cry once more, he looked to the center of the yard and saw a sight that made his heart soar with joy. He saw two shapes. Undoubtedly dragons judging by the large tails attached to them. He could make out the main color of the larger of the pair being green, the smaller a light creme. In front of the pair of great winged beasts was a single man, resting a hand on the snout of the green. He knew who it was right away, based off of the shape of the giant white wolf at his side.
As much as he wanted to go over to greet the sigil of his house, he knew now wasn't the time. He walked a bit closer as the man got close to Jon and recognized his voice to be that of Eddison Tollett. "They've stopped their assault on the gate, for now. We were able to kill off two giants before a third took the initiative and used a bow to destroy the scorpion. They weren't all too eager to continue trying to open the gate with two of the giants dead though."
He listened as his grand nephew let out a sigh at the information, seemingly saddened at the deaths. "Its a shame it had to come to that before he called off the attack. I'll try to see if we can meet with Mance and discuss peace terms, see if we can come to some sort of agreement in the meantime." Nodding at the younger man, Eddison walked away to return to his post.
Aemon couldn't help but smile at that. Jon was already making confident decisions as if he was in command.
Another brother of the watch approached Jon, and Aemon couldn't help but feel the slightest twinge of annoyance at having to continue to wait. This was a discussion he would very much like to get finished, but he wouldn't interrupt. Not when there was so much to get done. He began listening to the conversation once more as Jon was seemingly given a quick report of some of the casualties, "We also found an injured wildling outside, an archer. She killed a lot of our brothers, gave em a lot of trouble before they put a few bolts in her. Want her to receive medical attention, or-"
"Yes. Keep her separated from the rest of the wounded and make sure she's comfortable. If anyone attempts to cause her harm or is too rough with her, then they can look forward to Ghost." At that the brother, which he was now able to identify as Grenn after some thought, left to do as he said in silence, likely a bit surprised by the lengths Jon was going. If Aemon were to judge, he would say the young man was likely close to this wildling.
He pitied the man who thought it wise to disobey his orders.
"Jon." He called out softly, his voice nevertheless carrying over to the hidden Targaryen. The young man looked over to the elderly maester and hurried over to him, yet before he could say anything he turned away to make his way to the Lord Commanders quarters, "Come, its high time we talked. Its time for you to understand a few things." Confused and worried, likely over the injured wildling, he followed the old maester to see what he wanted to discuss, Ser Alliser silently joining the pair for the discussion to take place.
The elderly maester was already bracing himself for the fury to come.
The battle for the wall, a good bit different from how it played out in the show. I felt it was way too easy for the wildlings in the show to get into Castle Black, which even if its a bit run down, is still a castle. And the wildlings are coming at it with a relatively small force with no siege engines, and in this, the castle has actually prepared some proper defenses to slow them down, so they took heavy casualties. There was also the fact that Ygritte, on her own, was doing so much damage to the defenders which I felt was kinda dumb, even if shes a great archer. That's part of why I had her taken out early and had additional archers to add pressure.
Beyond that, there were a few surprise encounters here and there that Jon didn't know about. Mance made it clear that he had some idea not to trust Jon, not fully, so here he had a few surprises up his sleeves to catch the watch off guard for the first wave. And of course, Rhaegal and Viserion arrive on the scene, and are a good bit larger than in canon. The main reason for this faster growth being just how much they've gotten to stretch their wings. Dragons need freedom to grow, but staying restrained hinders growth. A smaller theory I have is that short distanced travel or slow travel slows growth as well, without necessarily hindering growth. If a dragon gets a lot of travel, a lot of exercise, they'll grow a bit faster. Drogon, who was both unrestrained, did a lot of traveling, and each time he came back he got bigger and bigger.
Compare end of season 5 Drogon to end of season 6, and that was more than just being out of chains and good feeding. Yes, I do realize its possible it was just DnD rushing the dragons growth to end things quicker (Look at Viserion and Rhaegal. They were maybe a quarter Drogons size by the end of season six, yet quickly jumped up to being around the same size without any consequences.) But I feel it would make sense if more than just food and lack of restraints could affect dragon growth. They will be growing slowly once more from here, and Drogon will catch right back up to his brothers in terms of size once he does his own traveling (And, of course, visits the magical ruins of Valyria.)
Now, one thing I am going to hint at, is the fate of the wildlings. Stannis isn't quite nearby yet to land a strike against them, and beyond that, there is a major difference here versus before. You'll get to see it next chapter in another Wall centric chapter. I hope y'all enjoyed my attempt at a battle, even if it didn't feel that epic.
