Hi everyone,
So, the T rating didn't last very long; story is now at an M rating (mainly for violence) so beware.
Enjoy the next chapter :)
Chapter 2: The Godswood
A few hours later ….
Godswood of Winterfell, Seat of power of House Stark in the North, Capital of the Kingdom of the North
Bran surveyed the bodies littered around the battlefield on the outskirts of the walls of Winterfell as his ravens flew over the carnage.
Dead men from all over the realm lay glassy eyed on the ground encased in gleaming amour with their proud sigils on show. Every Westerosi culture was represented, Dothraki and Unsullied soldiers rested in-between slain Westermen, in-between the fallen Northmen, around shredded Reachmen, on top of Dornish men and underneath broken Valemen.
Until suddenly they all started to push themselves back up onto unsteady feet. One by one their heads turned in the same direction.
Towards the walls of Winterfell.
The newly undead started to walk towards the Northern capital. Their bright blue eyes shone through the blizzard conditions and after a few more seconds of marching they started to scream and run at the walls of Winterfell which were already crawling with thousands of fellow wrights.
A heavy impact brought Bran back from his ravens and the horrifying vision of what was now rumbling towards him.
He felt his body hit the ground with a thud as it tumbled out of the wheelchair. He looked behind him to see Jon getting back to his feet and charge at the White Walker that had shoved him into his cousin.
Bran returned his focus to himself and slightly rolled so his back was resting on the roots of the Weirwood tree and his head was touching the bottom of the trunk.
He made no attempt to move from this position as he watched with his own eyes what was going on around the Godswood.
He saw Ser Brienne fighting in partnership with Ser Jaime taking on three White Walkers together. The Hound swung wildly with his long sword keeping multiple wrights at bay while Theon and his Greyjoy archers shot them with fire arrows.
Jon was engaged in a one-on-one contest which seemed balanced on a knife's edge until Arya drove her dragon glass spear through the creature's neck from behind. She noted how a portion of the wrights scattered around the Godswood just crumbled to the floor.
Jon gave her a look of thanks but it quickly turned into one of panic as he saw a White Walker raise its ice sword above Arya's head.
He started to sprint towards his favorite cousin.
Arya dropped her spear and quickly spun around to see the large ice weapon descending towards her, she prepared to dive out the way knowing that she had probably been a second too slow to escape without any injury.
She flung herself onto the ground and waited for the inevitable searing pain to bloom.
But it never came.
She quickly jumped back up onto her two feet to continue the fight against the creature above her.
What she saw was a Valyrian blade protruding from the creature's midriff and the White Walker shatter into a thousand ice shards.
Now stood in the defeated creatures place was Tywin Lannister holding Widow's Wail.
He gave Arya one forceful nod before turning and joining his son and Ser Brienne, evening the odds in their own contest.
Arya silently praised her decision to let the Old Lion retain the Valyrian blade before recollecting her dragon glass spear from the ground and charging at a dozen wrights that were running at Bran.
Bran saw the rabble of wrights coming straight at him but it didn't concern him. He knew they would never reach him.
And in the next few seconds Arya had dispatched all of them to stand in the middle of the Godswood and look back at her brother.
Bran smiled at his sister, remembering chasing her all around the courtyard of Winterfell after she had out shot him in archery practice all those years ago. It was a memory he had visited often in his visions and not simply to feel the sensation of running again.
His smile turned slightly sad as he nodded to her. He was going to miss her. But what was going to happen was necessary.
Arya acknowledged Bran's nod confirming she knew what she had to do.
Bran didn't need the cold wave that spread throughout the Godswood to know what was coming.
He already knew. He could feel it. He could feel him.
The Night King was here.
The cold that seeped into his bones was almost painful but it seemed Tywin wasn't the only one that had noticed the drop-in temperature as the living and undead alike seemed to back off each other.
Jaime gave him a confused look which he could only return as the near hundred wrights that occupied his vision started to filter out the place of worship to leave the few remaining White Walkers to stand by the entrance.
"They are waiting for something," Tywin realised.
"Yeah, and I don't think we are going to like what they are waiting for," came the Hound's gruff voice from just behind his shoulder.
The dozen remaining Greyjoy archers surrounded Bran by the Weirwood tree as Theon dropped his bow in favour for a sword and stood beside Jon who was flanked by Arya on his other side.
After a few more bitter cold seconds the three White Walkers waiting by the entrance where joined by another set of seven that were clad in black amour.
"This isn't good," Arya murmured as she backed away from Jon to sink behind the Greyjoy archers to blend with the shadows in the Godswood.
Tywin noticed Arya retreat to the shadows but his attention snapped back to the entrance as a lone White Walker stood there, seemingly appraising them.
This is the famed Night King, Tywin deduced as he gripped Widow's Wail tighter.
The creature seemed physically just like the rest of the White Walkers except for no white facial hair and the ludicrously large ice sword strapped to its back.
The creature's presence was all consuming. It was felt by all those in the Godswood. This creature was old, powerful, from a long-forgotten era where magic and dragons roamed free.
The White Walkers flanked the Night King with five on either side of him as he continued to stare straight through the assembled resistance before him to hold Bran's eyes.
The two powerful entities continued to stare at each other and even Tywin started to feel uncomfortable watching the silent battle go on.
Suddenly the Night King took a few unhurried steps towards Bran and the calm spell that had descended over the Godswood was broken.
Theon charged at the Night King and was followed by Jaime, Brienne, Tywin, the Hound, Jon and a barrage of fire arrows.
The arrows reached the ice creatures before any sword could and thudded into the chests of the terrifying monsters but only the Night King took the time to pull the arrows free before engaging the rushing humans.
Theon flew at the Night King and threw a few good aggressive swipes at the legendary creature which were dodged easily before the Night King in one clean motion released the large ice sword on his back to cleave Theon in two from shoulder to hip.
Jon who had just shattered one of the ten White Walkers left let out a gasp of horror at the sight of Theon laying in two parts on the ground before being engaged by another of the Night King's lieutenants.
The Night King continued his steady walk towards Bran as his lieutenants effectively blocked the path to him.
Jaime and Brienne doubled up on one White Walker to dispatch it with a few gracefully timed strikes before Brienne squared up to another one as Jaime saw his father struggling with his own White Walker.
Jaime hurried to his father who was parrying blow after blow but before he could reach his father, he saw the white bearded creature kickout and his father was sent flying a dozen metres into the foliage of the Godswood.
"No," Jaime yelled as he lost sight of his father in the snow-covered vegetation.
The White Walker turned to face the new challenger just as the onehanded man shoved a dragon glass blade into its torso.
The creature shattered and turned into mist a second later.
Jaime tried to look for his father amongst the dancing shadows but a scream of rage from Brienne behind him turned his head back in time to see her fiercely raining blows after blow down on the Night King who was blocking every strike with ease.
Jaime sensed the inevitable danger as he once against started to sprint towards the newly knighted Lady.
He spun away from an arcing ice sword and rolled between the Hound and his current opponent to parry a blow that would have sliced Brienne's head clean off.
Brienne took a step back from the Night King who looked straight through his two new challengers as if they weren't even there.
Jaime nodded slightly at Brienne and they began their dance.
They thrusted and parried in union, attempting to maneuver the Night King into a position where he could not defend against them both but whatever they tried the storm bringing creature seemed to evade with lighting speed.
In the next instant their attacking strikes turned into desperate defensive movements as the Night King unleashed his own sword in two powerful area sweeping slices that sent Jaime tumbling back with the effort of parrying and caught Brienne in the leg.
Jaime on all fours turned his head up to see Brienne likewise on the ground in a similar position to him but instead of missing a hand she was now missing a leg.
It had been severed in the Night King's attack and the beast was above Brienne with a foot on Oathkeeper trapping it on the ground.
Jaime willed his beaten body to move but he was helpless as the Night King wrapped both hands around the handle of his ice sword with the point hovering above Brienne's back.
Without any change of expression on his face the Night King drove the sword down through Brienne's back pinning her to the ground and did not stop his motion until the bottom of the hilt hit Brienne's armor.
Brienne's dying scream shook Jaime to his core and he smashed his golden hand on the frosted covered ground in aguish.
A barrage of fire arrows went over his head and a few impaled the Night King who had pulled his sword free of Brienne's body.
The Night King looked down at his chest then back at the dozen of Greyjoy archers standing in front of Bran and behind the still floored Jaime.
He continued his deadly walk towards his objective.
Jaime seeing the Night King walk slowly towards him pulled himself up off the ground and let out a last puff of hot air before he settled into his defensive stance.
The Night King reached Jaime and brought his sword up to Jaime's shoulder height before lunging forward.
Jaime dodged and took a step back, knowing to attack would be his end.
The Night King took another step and lunged again; Jaime again stepped back noting how the Night King seemed resistant to commit to an attack as if weary of another threat lurking in the shadows but there was none.
Apart from the ineffective Greyjoy archers and Bran there was only Jon and the Hound left in the Godswood and they were attempting to hold off the last four amour clad White Walkers.
There was no one else around.
That changed a second later as he spotted his father crawling out of a pile of snow with blood covering half of his face.
"Father," Jaime whispered as the Night King's blade ran straight through him.
Tywin saw the Night King thrust his long blade through his son like he was nothing.
There was no surviving that.
Tywin's hands and feet stilled in the snow as his forehead came into contact with the white covered ground. He could feel the warm blood dripping down his face and it now mingled with the silent hot tears that ran down from his eyes.
His tears were for his son whose body rested a few dozen metres from him with a huge bloody hole in it.
His tears where for the boy he had taught to read, for the adolescent who had practiced sword play with him, for the man that had refused to kill his own father and killed his King instead.
Tywin lifted his head and watched the monster that had just killed his son walk away from his corpse and continue its path towards the young Stark boy and the Weirwood tree.
Tywin rammed Widow's Wail into the ground before him to prop himself up. Once on two feet he started to stagger back into the battle with tears and blood glistening on his face in the moonlight as he raised his sword.
He wasn't dead yet and therefore he hadn't finished fighting.
Jon heard the screams of the Grejoy archers as the Night King slaughtered them.
He exchanged a look with the Hound.
"Go, I will hold them off," the Hound shouted understanding Bran was in imminent danger as he eyed the four White Walkers that were lined up opposite him.
An impossible fight to win.
Jon sent him an appreciative look before turning and sprinting towards the Night King who had finished dispatching with the archers and was now staring intently into Bran's eyes.
The Night King began to raise his sword over his head but spun around quickly to block Jon's strike.
They stood close together with only their swords separating them as both pushed against the other.
Jon realised too late that the Night King was only using one hand to hold his sword as the other smashed into his side as it rotated him around and sent him crashing against the Weirwood tree so he slid down it to land beside Bran without Long Claw in his hand.
"Don't be afraid," Bran said to his cousin as he watched the Night King take the last few remaining steps to stand directly above him.
Jon willed himself to move but pain exploded everywhere. He didn't have a weapon to fight the Night King even if he could have moved.
So, there he stayed tangled in the roots of the Weirwood tree breathing heavily as the Night King once again raised his giant ice sword above Bran.
Bran looked up at the once human man and accepted his fate knowing that there had been no other way to ensure that the summer's sun would shine upon the lands of Westeros again.
The ice sword came down.
It pierced through Bran in a downward angle but he didn't cry out of give any sign of the pain he must have been in as the sword continued to push through him so that it held him against the Weirwood tree.
The Night King kept his hand on the handle of his weapon and placed the other just above where his sword point had entered Bran, just above the young boy's heart.
Blood started to pool around Bran but still he only stared into the Night King's eyes as if in a trance.
Bran finally closed his eyes and let his life seep away. He had seen what was coming next. There was no reason to see it twice.
"No," Jon murmured as he watched the scene unfold beside him.
The Night King paid him no attention. A human man without a weapon was no threat to a thousand age old ice King.
The Night King had achieved his purpose.
The Three Eyed Raven was dead.
The neverendingly Winter was coming and there would be no Spring to break its hold on the land. The living had been defeated. It was time for darkness to roam over everything.
Jon's saw the Hound finally fall in the corner of his eye as three White Walkers sliced through him simultaneously.
His thoughts ventured to Daenerys, maybe she could escape back to Essos with Drogon and Rhaegal. Maybe the Night King's Winter would only plague Westeros.
Jon's thoughts of humanities survival were interrupted by a sound he knew well.
Arya screaming in anger.
Jon raised his head to see the Night King holding Arya in one hand at the neck and with the other holding her hand that was gripping onto the Catspaw.
He saw his sister drop the knife.
He then saw it softly clatter to the ground.
The Night King started to walk back into the centre of the Godswood with Arya still flailing in his hands, leaving Jon sitting beside his dead impaled cousin staring at the Catspaw.
Arya tried to break the Night King's hold on her but strength was never her greatest fighting asset. Speed was but that mattered very little when you were already in the clutches of your enemy.
Arya continued to struggle against the iron grip that contained her. The Night King just held her in the moonlight.
Arya was wondering why she was being spared from a grizzly death but a few seconds later she realised she wasn't.
Cold radiated from where the Night King's hands rested on her. Her whole body was going numb and she could feel herself start to shiver and tremble.
Arya saw the Stranger in the black edges of her vision and her skin started to turn blue. She stopped moving, going limp in the Night King's hands. All she could do now was stare back into the translucent blue eyes that shone before her.
She was in death's grip and she couldn't break it.
But someone else could.
The Night King let out a screeching cry that could have shattered iron as a sword flashed between him and Arya, cutting off the creature's arms at the elbows.
Arya fell to the floor and saw Tywin Lannister protectively stand in front of her panting hot breaths into the cold air. He seemed battered and sapped of energy but determined to kill the monster that took his son's life.
The Night King took a few steps back but already it could be seen that his arms were re-growing as ice started to jut out of his clean-cut stumps.
Tywin tried to take advantage but each tired swipe he threw was too slow, he couldn't catch his target. The Night King evaded his blows by retreating towards the Weirwood tree.
The Old Lion was cut off from pursuing him as the three remaining White Walkers stood in front of him. Tywin let out a deep sigh of reassignment as he looked at the three creatures before him.
If this was how it ended for him so be it.
Arya, a metre behind Tywin, whispered through chattering teeth as she curled up into a ball, "Valar Morghulis my Lord."
Tywin watched as the three monsters started to close the gap. He readied his sword, although he knew there was no energy left in his arms to swing it with any real power. But he had promised to himself that his last breath would be a fighting breath.
"Valar Dohaeris girl," Tywin spat out as death's servants approached him.
The three White Walker's raised their weapons in unison.
And then they fell in unison.
Tywin looked through the three misty clouds of recently shattered ice to see Jon standing behind an equally misty cloud holding an exquisite looking dagger in his hand.
It took a few seconds for Tywin to really believe his eyes.
Jon had just killed the Night King.
Tywin looked behind him to see that Arya's eyes were closed. He turned his battered body and fell beside the young Stark. His vision blurred as he stopped himself completely collapsing beside his former cupbearer.
He slowly placed two fingers by the girl's throat.
A pulse, good, thought Tywin as he started to unclasp his amour.
Jon collapsed to the floor as his entire body shook. He had stabbed the Night King from behind through its heart.
He had just defeated the Night King but was the Long Night stopped?
The Three Eyed Raven was dead.
Would there be everlasting winter?
Jon pushed these questions away as he clutched at his broken ribs and started to crawl to where his sister and Lord Tywin rested unmoving.
When he reached her, he saw a red Lannister cloak draped over her tiny frame and pieces of armor scattered around Lord Lannister.
If Jon had had the energy to raise his eyebrow he would have. Lord Tywin had taken off his amour so he could place his own clock around Arya.
"She will die from the cold if we don't get her inside," Tywin said in way of an explanation while staring up into the now visible stars from his prone position on the ground next to Arya.
Half of the old Lords face was streaked in crimson and the other half showed his fatigue but he still clutched Widow's Wail in his hand as if danger might spring out of the ground at any moment.
"Then let's get her inside," Jon roared with all the strength he had left as he worked through the pain to rise to his feet.
He was unwilling to lose anymore loved ones tonight.
Tywin looked into Jon's eyes for a few second's recognizing the order behind the long-lost Targaryen's words and for some reason he gathered up the remaining reserves of his strength and hauled himself to his feet as well.
After an excruciating minute of flailing limbs and cursed words Tywin and Jon each had one of Arya's arms and were dragging her as much as themselves out of the Godswood towards the inner castle.
Not once did they look behind them or give consideration to the bones that they walked over as they both concentrated on getting Arya out of the Godswood.
Once again silence dominated the Godswood but it would forever be changed. The haunting silence wouldn't cover up the carnage that had occurred or the sacrifice of those that had died within.
They would not be forgotten.
Author's Notes:
Okay so I just started to write the Godswood scene and then most of my characters were dead ….. and then it turned into a full chapter … opps.
Hope you enjoyed the fighting and the way each character died.
I didn't want to follow the show so I thought it would be cool to play with the scenario and kill Bran as personally if there is no Night King Bran doesn't really have a purpose anymore.
RIP
Theon Greyjoy (Cut in two by the Night King's great ice sword after charging him)
I liked Theon's death in the show so I didn't change it too much but I wanted it to be a death that shocked the living party in the Godswood and still showcase that the Night King isn't just a figurehead but a deadly warrior as well.
Ser Brienne of Tarth (Impaled by the Night King through her back after having her leg cleaved off)
Okay so it was writing her death that made me reconsider the rating as the image of her losing a leg was a bit gruesome then getting impaled on the floor might have been a bit hard to swallow as she is a well-liked character but this story is too short for plot amour ;)
Ser Jaime Lannister (Stabbed through the heart by the Night King as he tried to protect Bran)
I thought it was poetic that he died protecting the very child he tried to kill in Season 1. I wanted his death to be a bit dramatic but also emotional as Tywin was always in my head going to see it happen.
Brandon Stark (Impaled against the Weirwood tree with the Night King's sword)
Right, to me no Night King means no Bran (Three Eyed Raven) and I thought it would be cool if his purpose all along was actually to die alongside the Night King to end the eternal battle between the two and eliminate the Children of the Forest's magic from Westeros forever.
The Hound (Cut down by the three remaining White Walkers after he managed to kill one against the odds)
The Hound is good but he ain't that good he could have outfought four on one. Saying that I feel bad as I didn't focus on him too much in this chapter but there was a lot going on in my defence.
Reviews:
Ksyushangel – Hey angel! Haha thanks! Arya & Tywin interactions are always intriguing and laced with drama/sparks.
Uqiam – Hi, thanks for reading and the positive comments :)
Dannazj – I know you like Arya and Tywin interactions so I hope you will enjoy this story very much as they are the focus of it. This chapter wasn't so tunnel focused on them as I was bouncing around the scene in the Godswood but they survive alongside Jon so there will be more fun Arya Tywin moments ahead!
Next Up: The dead are honoured and the living continue to fight over what is left.