Even from a distance, the Night King cut an imposing figure. He stared intently at the group, not moving or showing any sign that he cared about their presence. Just like the Wight by his side but his arrival was a worrying sign for them. Bruda motioned with his hand for them to slowly step backwards, maintaining eye contact with the leader of the dead. The warlock gripped his staff tightly as he looked at their opponent. It wasn't time yet. He knew that much. It was all happening too soon.
"It's too soon," he muttered to himself but Jon, who was stood fairly close to him, overheard his words.
"What do you mean?" the young man wondered but Bruda was focused too intently on the creature to take in what was said. Beric stood his ground next to them, holding aloft his sword that was soon covered in flames. The others looked at it in surprise but Bruda barely noticed.
"We're going to have to fight our way out of here, I think," Dondarrion said bravely, which got the attention of the concerned mage.
"No, we wouldn't stand a chance. It would be an exercise in futility. But look - he hasn't ordered an attack yet. Maybe we can just walk away. Get back to the horses. But only if you put that godforsaken thing away!" He finished with a shout, which prompted Beric to do as he was told. They'd never seen Bruda so shaken up until this point. Yet his optimism was soon cut short. The Night King appeared to shift, bending down to reach for something that lay by his feet on the top of the Wall. They couldn't properly make out what it was from the distance between them but they knew it wouldn't be beneficial to their health. Before they could react, the Night King flung the object towards them. It fired past Bruda and the brief scream behind him told him that it had hit one of them. Thoros of Myr lay on the floor dead with a spear seemingly made entirely out of ice protruding out of him. His body was partially propped up by the end that had gone straight through him; he had died instantly. Bruda guessed that was a small blessing. His lifeless eyes stared at them unblinkingly, deep red blood dripping from his half-open mouth, as well as from the deep fatal wound that had been made. The mage looked back up at their enemy and could see the sadistic smile lighting up the face of the Night King. He was reaching down for another weapon. They began to panic.
"Everyone run!" he shouted at them, flinging his arm out to motion which direction they should go. They all began to move apart from Jon, who looked at Bruda intently.
"You need to come as well!" he barked.
"I can hold him up for the time being. Get to the horses and on the road back to Winterfell." The look he gave him told Jon that it wasn't up for discussion. He slowly started moving away as Bruda took a firm hold of his staff. He moved it in a small arc and the snow around him was blown up in a whirlwind. A cloud of snow formed around him and where the others had been, making a barrier to stop the attack. It was taking a lot out of him and he looked back to make sure they had got to a suitable distance. "I'll eventually get back to you. One way or another," he shouted over the bustling wind. He opened his arms out and the storm of snow flew forwards towards the Wall and where the Night King was stood. It impacted heavily with the ice barrier, sending a shockwave back at them, knocking Bruda and a group of trees to the ground. Using his staff, he pushed himself up back to a standing position so that he could see what damage he had done. Part of the Wall was caved in but it still seemed structurally sound. He looked to the top and could no longer see the Night King - he didn't know whether that was a good thing.
Not wanting to waste time, he waved his staff again, making the trees float into the air before they were thrown against the end of the Wall. Snow billowed around him once again as it was forced to join the trees. He took a look at the stone building of East Watch before sending a bolt of blue energy at it. The nearest wall began to instantly crumble and he began using the bricks and other construction materials to form a barrier where Mance had said there had been a weakness open to exploitation. It would slow their march down but he knew it wouldn't last as a permanent blockade. It was all he could do at the present time but he now needed to focus on getting out of there, just in case they were able to find a way through. He began running in the direction the others had, not looking back at the devastation he had caused, the corpse of Thoros or the slowly fading golden symbol that had adorned the Wall.
When he got to the horses, he was glad to see that the majority were gone. Only his stallion remained, who was bucking wildly due to the chaos that had ensued. He felt sorry for it, knowing how scared it must have been, especially since it had faced the prospect of being left alone. He stroked it gently, sending a golden glow through its body with his hand to calm it down. Eventually, he was able to get on its back and start off on the long journey back. The others would get to Winterfell before him because of their head start. He just hoped he arrived in time before they told Daenerys the terrible news.
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Daenerys was currently sat in an uncomfortable wooden chair, staring at Stannis as he moved about his council room. It was much smaller than the hall they used for group meetings and discussions so she came to the obvious conclusion that it was designed for more personal and discreet conversations. That notion troubled her, not knowing why he had wanted to speak to her. And why it had to be done in such a private setting. Hadn't Bruda warned her that something like this was likely to happen? She berated herself for being so easily guided under the pressure of his arm. She was born to be a queen and yet she had quickly bowed to his will. That couldn't continue. Especially when alone with him. She hadn't said a word to him since they had moved to his room, almost trying to convey the idea mentally that she would prefer to be anywhere else than here.
"Would you care for a drink?" Stannis asked, sifting through a dusty cupboard on the wall. The condition of the storage would have put her off anyway but she had already told herself not to accept. She needed to keep her wits about her if she were to outmanoeuvre him in their conversation. She needed a more diplomatic answer though.
"No thank you. I try to not drink too much, especially in the times we're facing. Just in case something...sudden was to happen." He gave her an odd look at her answer but said nothing about it. He poured himself a glass of what looked like a crimson wine and took a seat opposite her. No words uttered, just swirling his glass in his hand. As if he were calculating his next move. Or had he already planned everything?
"Ever since your arrival, I have been wanting us to have a...chat. One to one. There just never seemed to be the opportunity, with you constantly being watched over by those two old men. It must grow tiresome, not having any freedom or privacy."
"I presume you're talking about Jorah and Bruda. Who are my dearest friends."
"And I fully accept and acknowledge that. But it doesn't mean you shouldn't be allowed to make your own decisions. Or spend time alone, enjoying some luxuries. To me, and I mean not to insult you, it is like they don't completely trust you." Her hands clenched tightly on the arms of the chair she was sitting on. "And for a woman of your prestige, I couldn't stand by quietly and watch it happen." She stopped herself from answering immediately because she would have probably bitten his head off. Instead, she sat back and plastered a fake smile on her face.
"I am grateful for your concern but you shouldn't worry. If I did not want them there, I would tell them plainly. They are there to advise me, not make my decisions. That will always be up to me, and me alone." A resolute answer that she hoped would stop Stannis travelling along this line of query.
"Yet you call them your friends. In a time of war, and any other time as a ruler, you need advisors. Tacticians. Not friends. Davos is my Hand, not my friend. I would mourn his death but it would not derail my campaign. Now, if one of your...companions were to perish, I wonder if you would be able to cope in the same manner." He had made two mistakes in her eyes. Speaking so callously about Davos, who she cared a great deal about, and talking about her friends dying. She wondered if it were a thinly veiled threat.
"I think we have different styles of ruling. I like to show compassion. Especially to those around me. It means they will be more loyal to me. And, if my mood towards them changes, then it tells them quickly that they have done me wrong. I find it quite an efficient way of controlling people."
"The innocent queen. You cut such a lovely figure." He looked her over lecherously. "But you speak of controlling people. Would your dear knight or mystical warlock be proud if they heard you speak in such a manner?" She found it difficult to maintain eye contact. "I don't think they would. It would be such a shame if they were to find out your true nature."
"They know my true nature and it is nothing like what you describe. You hardly know me yet believe you can analyse me so easily."
"Keep telling yourself that if it allows you to sleep better at night. They certainly are getting longer. But you will realise soon that you are more like me than you would care for." What did that mean? What was he planning? She stood up abruptly - Stannis sat back in his chair having leant forward whilst talking. He wore a smug smirk.
"What was the reason for this conversation?" she asked him angrily.
"It is like you said. I should know you better. Since we are planning on working together." She had to remind herself that she needed his support and men for the future. And she knew that he had come to the same conclusion, which is why he was treating her with such disdain; because he could.
"You should start praying to your Lord of Light if you want to know what I am truly like. Not many people survive such a conversation." She glared at him one last time before she stormed out of the room, not noticing the smile on Stannis's face. So much fire in her. It was an admirable trait. But a fatal one. She would either come to make a rash decision that would cost her dearly or react badly if something were to go wrong. She just needed pushing closer to that point.
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There was a sombre atmosphere on the ship as they sailed away from Bear Island after a woefully fruitless trip. Jorah had been in a bad mood ever since the meeting, resorting back to the scowl that had so often lined his face in the past. He didn't know whether it was because of the lack of understanding and negotiation Lady Mormont and Petyr Baelish had been willing to give or because he had basically stood there and watched as it all unfolded. He was ashamed. What must his father think if he was watching over him at that moment? What would Daenerys think when he broke the news to her of his failure? She'd reassure him, tell him that they would be able to manage without that support. It would only be a small number anyway, she'd say. Yet he would know the truth. And shame would fill him.
He heard footsteps behind him, instinctively knowing that it would be Davos. The Unsullied soldiers weren't exactly the type of people to get to know you properly or sit down and have a conversation with you. They stood side by side for a moment, watching the ship part the wild waves with ease. The chaos below was oddly soothing.
"It's not your fault," Davos pointed out, trying to ease the inner turmoil inside of him. He doubted that it would work but it was worth the try. "You could tell she has been corrupted by that man. Stannis always talked about him reverently, praised his skills of manipulation and unearthing hidden secrets. That should tell you enough about him." It was strange to hear him talk so negatively about his superior. The tension obviously hadn't subsided.
"I didn't do enough. I just let you handle everything. I...froze. What sort of political advisor would fail in such a manner? Daenerys deserves someone better, with more knowledge of what to do and how to negotiate a difficult situation. Someone like you."
"You know she will never get rid of you. And I will be there to support her and help you through these sorts of interactions. And you need to realise that other meetings won't usually have an emotional undercurrent to it. It's not every day you return home." Something that Davos said had piqued Jorah's interest.
"Won't you be too busy with Stannis to be helping us?" Davos's face contorted into an angry glare that was focused on the crashing water. He took a brief moment to mull over his next words.
"You...Daenerys...Bruda...have shown me more respect than I deserve. And more respect than Stannis will ever show me. I would be a fool to actively choose to be on his side rather than yours." It was an expected sentiment but still shocking to Jorah. From what he knew, Davos had been loyal to the Baratheon for a number of years now. Even if there was a negative change in their relationship, this still would have been a difficult decision for him and Jorah needed to acknowledge that appropriately.
"Well...I'm guessing you have thought long and hard about this. And I can tell that this choice was not the easiest one you could have picked. But I must say that I am glad. Daenerys truly values you and will be even happier when she finds out. Your bluntness will be perfect in counteracting Bruda's...shall we say, overabundant way with words?" He nudged Davos with his shoulder and they shared a small chuckle, still looking at the deep blue water. "How are you going to break the news to Stannis though?"
"Do I have to?" Jorah laughed again, thinking that Davos was joking. He looked at his face again and could tell quickly that he wasn't. "I doubt he'll want me around a lot anyway after what happened. And we have the small prospect of a war looming over our shoulders. For the little time we will have together now, I think I'll be able to remain neutral."
"What about after the war? If we make it through it." It was one thing to pretend to be on someone's side for a short duration of time, but it would be a lot longer after the conflict.
"Maybe we'll have to hope that Stannis doesn't make it through the war." Jorah didn't like the look on Davos' face; it was filled with too much rage and contempt.
"You can't possibly be thinking about killing him? If people found out...you would face the threat of execution. And it would probably come down to Daenerys to make that sort of verdict. You can't expect her to do that. Choose between you and the thousands of men that Stannis has brought to the table."
"It would be worth it. To see the look of shock on his face, knowing that he had gone too far, isolated himself too much. To realise that he wouldn't have made a good leader at all." Jorah had never heard Davos talk in such a manner. It was a different side to his comrade that he hadn't seen before. He had to tread carefully to try and convince him not to go down this dark path.
"What about Shireen?" That stopped Davos in his tracks and he glared at Jorah for bringing her up. "Would you risk seeing her look at you with distaste, anger, sorrow? I know she is important to you. Don't lose that. It's vital in a time like this to have someone, something like that to keep you going. So you have a stronger will to survive. I have it with Daenerys, thankfully. I wouldn't want to give that up. Especially for something so petty as revenge."
Davos bowed his head. Jorah didn't know whether it was out of regret, shame or maybe just plain tiredness at the whole situation. "Maybe you're right. And you're right. We're bloody lucky to have people in our lives worth fighting for. I never thought I'd be in the situation to say that again." Jorah smiled at him.
"Neither did I."
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They'd decided to set up a small camp with night drawing in. Their horses needed the rest too; they had ridden them hard to get away as quickly as possible from the Wall. Jon had looked at them all in a frenzy, these men fleeing when push came to shove. Scrambling around to get on their horses, whilst another man faced off against their greatest enemy and foe. It had been difficult, extremely difficult, to leave Bruda behind but the look on his face had left him no choice. The warlock was a formidable figure and one that you rarely dared question. And Jon knew that the skills he had to offer wouldn't have been that much of a help in the dire situation they were in. He still had hope as he sat with his back against a large tree, the others long been sleeping around a fire that had been lit, that the old man would somehow survive. It wasn't as if he had been made to battle the Night King directly. At least, that prospect hadn't looked likely when had left.
He was falling asleep when he heard a distinct noise coming from the road they had been travelling on. He stood up abruptly as the sound of horse hooves on the track filled the air. Whoever it was, they weren't going fast enough to wake the others. That sentiment was confounded when Tormund let out a particularly large snore. Jon ignored him to edge forward, using the tree as the perfect place to hide. He unsheathed his sword and continued to step forward, trying to see who it was through the enveloping darkness.
An artificial light was guiding the horse, which helped Jon to see it. He knew of only one person with the capability to make light in such a way and his mood brightened considerably. He quickly placed his sword away and rushed out, getting the rider's attention. The horse stopped when Jon went into the middle of the road and stood still as he walked around to its side.
"Jon?" came a voice from the dark. Bruda's recognisable voice was smaller and raspier than it usually was but Jon could still tell it was him. The warlock extinguished the light which was too bright for them to see each properly. His eyes became more adjusted to the dark, allowing him to make out Bruda's figure on top of the horse. His face looked old, older than usual, and extremely tired. "Will you help me down?" Jon had to do most of the work, pushing him up and then holding him up, otherwise, Bruda would have likely crumpled to the floor. He was starting to worry about the general health of his compatriot. He guided him to the tree, setting him down slowly, before returning to the horse and tying it to the same pine. He looked warily at Bruda.
"What happened after we left?" Had he fought the Night King personally? If so, how was he still on the plain of the living?
"Nothing much," the warlock answered with a dry laugh. "Kicked up a snowstorm to stop him from firing any more of those of spears at me." The way he spoke about it so nonchalantly bemused Jon. "I then destroyed the castle." Jon's eyes widened at that but he allowed Bruda to continue retelling the story. "I had to. Used the stone to block their potential passage. Buy us a little bit more time." He winced as he finished talking.
"So they can't get through now? We can go back with some positive news then," Jon said positively. He should have known that it was not a time for positivity.
"Don't be so naive and stupid, Snow." Obviously, Bruda's condition made him even more blunt than usual. "They'll easily find a way past the blockade. It will just slow them down. That's the only positive thing that has happened on this journey." Another wince.
"What happened to you though? You didn't mention getting injured."
"I wasn't. Not a scratch. But I used a lot of my magical power. And I'm not supposed to do that. It's like any energy reserve. Use it all up and you become slow, lethargic, tired. But, in my case, my magic is the thing sustaining my life. Meaning if I use it up…"
"You'll die."
"Bingo. So I shouldn't do it too often. Only for special occasions." Jon tried to put that thought to the back of his mind for now.
"What do you think that symbol was that was on the Wall?"
"I don't know yet. I'm sure we'll be finding out soon. That's the only thing that has made this trip worthwhile."
"Why?"
"Why?" Bruda repeated incredulously. "Because it is going to be a clue in how to stop these monsters. I can feel it in my bones. You said you have seen it before. That must mean it's important. We just have to figure out why. Another mystery to solve in the few weeks we have left."
"You don't seem confident we will win this. Saying we have weeks left."
"Because the enemies we face are not human. They won't stop. They'll be clawing at the stone I put up right this very moment. Once they're through, they'll march constantly until they're upon us, destroying every sign of civilisation that is unfortunate to be on their path. Don't give me the fucking positivity speech when our odds are so low. You need to learn that people will die. All I can do is try and make sure not everyone does before it's over." Was he talking about the war or something else? Jon couldn't tell. Bruda's voice had become distant as if he was drifting away from the conversation. He needed to keep him talking. One thing had been niggling at him.
"When you saw him...you said it was too soon. What did you mean?"
"It means that we're in trouble. That's all you need to worry about for now. Everything...will be...explained." His voice was even softer now. "Now if you don't mind...I think I need to sleep."