"Thank you all for coming so quickly," Bruda announced to the large group settled in the council room. Daenerys was still giving him questioning looks, something she'd been doing since his urgent summons had found her. That went for everyone really, all waiting with anticipation for what the warlock had to say. There was a nervous energy around the room, with them knowing it would have to do with the war, a prospect that couldn't be pushed to the back of your mind. Jorah sat by his Khaleesi, as did Tyrion and Varys, who had been quietly discussing something before Bruda had begun talking. The remaining Stark children, including Bran, sat in a small huddle, this being Sansa's first involvement in a proper meeting like this. Bridging the gap between Stannis, Davos (who still made sure to sit next to his leader so as not to arouse suspicion) and Melisandre, were Mance and Tormund. Marwyn, although invited to attend by Bruda, had stated he needed to continue with his research now that they had further leads to search. None of them asked why they were here, prompting the mage to continue. "I would like to discuss what happened at the Wall, and a recent discovery we made."

"About how you cost a man's life for a pointless journey?" Stannis commented. Daenerys scowled at him but made sure to bite her tongue. Bruda looked at him carefully, trying not to smirk at the bruise that was forming on his head. "Don't worry, I've had all the details divulged to me. If that's the sole purpose of this...gathering, then I will beg your pardon for my leaving." He finished with a mocking tone and began to get out of his seat. Bruda, mulling over how Stannis had found out about what happened, waited until he reached the door and opened it. He raised his eyebrows at the Red Woman, who was surprised that the warlock was even acknowledging her existence. Before Stannis could step outside, the warlock clicked his fingers and the door slammed shut in his face. He turned around angrily, glaring at Bruda who had a passive expression on his face. Daenerys was enjoying it very much, thinking of how much she loved that warlock of hers. A stand-off was happening but, with Bruda remaining stubbornly motionless, Stannis eventually gave in and trudged back to his seat, not looking at any of the others as he did so. Bruda slightly turned around and winked at Daenerys, Jorah and Jon, all three trying to smile subtly so that the Baratheon leader wouldn't notice.

"Thoros' death was a tragedy and one that I wish I could undo. Yet, as a seasoned veteran of war yourself, surely you will understand that death is an inevitable part of war. And it will continue to play a part until it is all over. So I beg your pardon if I may continue with what I wanted to say." Stannis stayed silent. "Thank you. As I was saying, our journey to the Wall has given us definitive proof that the White Walkers can get past the Wall." There were some grumblings from those who hadn't known that up to that point in time. "And although we have stalled them, it is likely that they're already past it." Mance gave a short laugh.

"So we're fucking screwed," he summed up neatly. Bruda inclined his head in his direction.

"It would appear so. But at least that gives us the motivation now to get everything ready."

"We'll need to organise where each army goes," Davos pointed out. This was a point that Bruda wanted to address.

"Not necessarily. We simply cannot approach this as if it is a typical battle. We cannot charge at them, we cannot outflank them, we cannot surprise them."

"So what do you suggest we do?" Jorah asked.

"Keep most of the soldiers within the castle walls. Make it as difficult as possible for them to get to us because, as you will know, they will get stronger with each death on our side. We could have a combination of soldiers just outside the walls, our strongest men."

"You want to sacrifice our best men?" Tormund asked sceptically.

"Not at all. I'm hoping that the White Walkers won't get near them."

"How do you plan on that happening?" Jon inquired, not sure where he was going with this.

"Dragonglass. If we build trenches, maybe two or three, around the whole perimeter of Winterfell, then surely they won't be able to get through." There were a few nods as people mulled over his proposal.

"So you expect us to wait and hide, hoping that they kill themselves. Such a clever tactician," Stannis said sarcastically, obviously not learning from his previous embarrassment.

"Why risk so many lives when we having four fire-breathing monsters at our disposal?" He now looked directly at Daenerys. "I went to speak with Marwyn - we found proof that fire will kill them." He briefly glanced at Jon, Mance and Tormund. "That symbol, it's an old word from the Children of the Forest. It means fire. We have to assume that that means it's their weakness. Of course, we already believed that to be the case due to peoples' past altercations with them but it's always nice to have it spelt out for you."

"And if you're wrong?" Mance asked.

"Then I'll pay the price." He turned back to Daenerys, ignoring her worried look at his last words. "What do you say? I'd understand if you're not up to flying one of them during a battle."

"No. If you say it will give us a better chance, then I'll do it."

"Good. That's one thing out of the way. You'll need to be careful though. If he has access to those spears...I don't know whether the dragons would be able to get out of the way." She resolutely nodded her head.

"You're missing something though," she said. "You keep saying that we know they'll get past the Wall. But we don't know when they'll get here. Or even if they'll come here. They might avoid us to get to the capital." Bruda turned this time to Bran, who was already looking at him serenely.

"Got that covered." He stepped closer to the youngest surviving Stark. "Marwyn said something else that was interesting. That you've been able to see into the Night King's past. And you've said before that you supposedly have a connection with him."

"I'll be able to tell when he's getting closer," Bran said, practically reading Bruda's mind.

"Is it a one-way connection though? We can't afford him learning anything about what we have planned."

"I'm...not sure. All I can tell is that he wants me, or something to do with me. When he gets here, and he'll come because of me, maybe we could use me as bait. Direct him to a certain part of the grounds." Bruda didn't like that suggestion, not least because of how it sounded Bran wanted to meet him.

"Out of the question."

"But it would ensure he comes."

"I don't think you understand. I said, no!" He finished with a shout, taking everyone by surprise. Daenerys' expression turned even more concerned. "My priority is not to ensure that you get to have your time with him. I don't care if that's the main purpose of you being here. I don't care if that's the one thing you really want. I don't even care that you call yourself the Three-Eyed Raven! I am not risking everyone's lives so that you can live out the fantasies inside your head!" The room was silent, even Bran, who opted not to respond to the tirade. Bruda took a moment to compose himself. "I'll need someone to watch you. We need to know as soon as possible when you're able to reach out to him."

"I could do it." Sansa put her hand up, the first involvement she had made in the conversation. Bruda sent her a soft but sad smile.

"I don't think you'll be here." He looked at Jon, who caught on to what he was implying. Sansa followed his eye line and stared accusingly at her brother.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I think what Bruda is trying to say is that anyone who can't fight shouldn't be here."

"Exactly. There's no need risking your lives when you won't add anything to our numbers. You'd end up distracting people who can, resulting in more deaths than just your own."

"There are fortresses that are unoccupied at the moment further south that are owned by Stark allies," Jon reasoned. "They could all go there." Bruda looked at Tyrion and Varys.

"Tyrion, Varys. I'd expect you to go as well, with anyone too young, too old or too frail to fight." He could tell that Tyrion was going to object so raised his hand. "Not just because of the reasons I just outlined but because, if the worst happens and we fall, you need to send the message to King's Landing to make them aware. So that our attempts aren't in vain."

"We understand," Varys said on behalf of them both, with Tyrion's face losing some of the initial anger.

"Thank you. One more thing. Do not share tactics. Based on what we saw, we believe they gather information from the bodies they take over. So, if they were to kill one of us during the battle, we'd be on a ticking clock."

"So try to limit the number of people who know," Davos finished for him.

"Basically. But that won't matter once we're fighting. We have to finish them off before he resurrects our soldiers. Meaning we've got plenty to do then. We need to get started."

xxxxxxxxxx

Everyone had filed out of the council, going off in separate directions to spread the message of what needed to be done now. Digging out the trenches would obviously be the main priority until they were finished but the remaining dragonglass needed to be forged into more weapons and defences to fill the trenches as well. Melisandre had even suggested that wooden spikes would be beneficial to put in or around them as they'd be able to set them on fire. It was all coming together but Bruda still had the knowledge it wouldn't likely be enough. That would be down to him and he was dreading the time when he would need to divulge his last remaining secret. He knew that day was approaching fast. He was hoping that someone would figure it out before he had to say it to everyone.

He was alone in the council room, taking a moment to himself. He looked at his hands, noting how wrinkly they were getting. By the gods, he was getting old. He had one last battle in him. Then he'd take some much needed time off. He was almost looking forward to that prospect. Turning around, he realised that he was not, as he thought, alone in the large room. Daenerys was stood by the door, with her arms folded, staring at him. What had he done this time?

"Are you alright, Daenerys? I thought that you would have gone off with Jorah."

"He said he was going to help with digging the trenches. He claims that it is no place for me and that they have plenty of people on hand to get it done."

"And you didn't slap him?" he asked with a light tone. Her stern expression slipped as she smirked for a moment.

"I can have some restraint at times," she argued. He gave her a questioning look. "I can!"

"I say that's special treatment. Just think, you didn't have much restraint when you slapped me before," he said accusingly. He was sure that his cheek was still stinging where she had hit him.

"You deserved it. I needed to get it across to you how much you mean to me. Taking so many unnecessary risks...it is not down to you to save everyone, Bruda." If only she knew.

"You should know, I can tell that you do...care about me." He hated all this soppy talk. Give him a White Walker any day of the week.

"Do you though? Can you comprehend how much it would devastate me if you were to die?" She walked up to him slowly.

"I'm sure you'd much rather have Jorah survive than me," he said but the joke fell flat and her expression darkened.

"If you say anything as stupid or hurtful as that again, I will slap you even harder than last time." She accentuated her points by prodding him in the chest with her finger at every word she said even with him holding her arms. "Jorah has been with me much longer than you, that's true. And I love him dearly; I don't know how I would cope if he were to die as well. And what would make it worse is that he would gladly die for me so I would end up blaming myself. So yes, I do not want him to die. Obviously. But to even suggest that I would want you to perish in his place. What sort of a monster do you think I am?" She had tears in her eyes and he hated himself for making her feel this way.

"I don't think you're a monster. At all. But if you could only save one of us…"

"I'd rather sacrifice myself."

"Don't you dare. If ever it came to that, don't you dare. You are so much more important than me or Jorah. You're the only reason we're here, Daenerys."

"But I care for you. I love you deeply. Almost as much as Jorah." That took him by surprise. It had been a very long time since anyone had used that word in connection to him. "You've protected me for a long time now. Even before you knew me, you were helping me against the Harpies."

"You're the first person I have cared for properly since Isabella. Now that's a very long time for me to be alone with such cold feelings. So, for you to make me realise that those sort of feelings weren't beyond me...you have helped me more than you can ever know." She relaxed a little bit and melted into his embrace. He looked up at the ceiling as he kissed the top of her head softly. "But you touched upon the main thing. I've been protecting you. Not the other way around. It is my job to make sure you stay alive. The same goes for Jorah. I'd rather you mourn my death and be alive than you dying on my behalf."

"It's not fair though."

"I know, I know. Not many things are, sadly. But, one day, you'll be sat upon that Iron Throne and this will all be worth it."

"Only if you're by my side."

"I hope I'm there too." A silence ensued as they stayed together before Daenerys awkwardly removed herself, not looking at Bruda for fear of embarrassment. What must he think of her right now? She was acting like some little girl in front of him. But he had returned her sentiments. And there was an underlying message. He loved her as well. That was enough for her. It didn't have to be said. She knew he wasn't the type of person to voice such feelings. She eventually brought herself to look at him, her brain thinking back to another topic she wanted to cover.

"Bruda...you've made it pretty clear that you haven't told me the entire truth about yourself. You told me to think back to our previous conversations but I can't figure it out. Why can't you tell me?" Her voice was pleading, which made it more difficult for him. He could tell her. She would understand. Then he'd be able to relax, knowing that she knew the real him for the first time. But it wasn't the right time. He knew it had to be said when there was no time left. When darkness falls and the dead rise.

"I just...can't. Believe me, Daenerys - I want to. I truly want to. You will know soon. Trust me, I have never lied to you. I am what you see. There's just more to it."

"You're just waiting for the best time," she reasoned, begrudgingly. He nodded his head and took a seat, thankful that she understood to a certain extent. She followed his actions and looked at him across the table. "I'll be here waiting for that time, then."

"Thank you." He thought that would be the end of their conversation but he could tell from the look on her face that something else was troubling her. He waited until she was ready to voice her concerns.

"Are you scared?" In that moment, he saw her for what she truly was. A young woman thrust into a position that didn't suit someone her age. Yet she handled it so well. All the difficulties she had been through, and he was only drawing on the events he had witnessed. It was only right that she be able to let out her frustrations and fears, and he was perfectly willing to hear them. He was proud of her.

"Petrified," he admitted, which surprised her and made her feel a bit better. If the warlock was scared, after seeing all that he had seen, then maybe she wasn't being a coward.

"At least I'm not the only one."

"Everyone out there will be terrified. We're facing a foe that can't be killed and can convert our men to his side. I'd be more concerned if you weren't scared." She smiled at his levity. "But you shouldn't worry. We've been through a lot, haven't we? Harpies, the Iron Bank, sieges. And we've got through everything. I'll make sure you get through this too." And in that moment, she truly believed him.

xxxxxxxxxx

Work began almost immediately on building the trenches. Soldiers from all sets of armies, be they under the flag of Baratheon, from North of the Wall, members of the Unsullied, Dothraki savages or even men of the Golden Company, had been tasked to start digging. As Bruda had outlined, three circular trenches were being built to encompass the entirety of Winterfell. Despite the cold conditions, good, early progress was being made. Many of the men were just thankful for something to do, almost bored with staying in their camps and waiting for the day of battle. The Hound was making the most progress due to his superior size and strength, relishing in the fact he was getting so muddy. He'd spent too long with Dondarrion - he needed to remember he was a fighter. He picked up a large wooden spike from a nearby pile and shoved it into the wet ground, banging on it with a crude piece of metal to make it stay in. He made it so it was at an angle like the other ones he had already put in, guessing it would make them more effective in taking out Wights.

"Make sure the spikes are all touching." A feminine voice came from behind him and he turned around quickly to see who it was. Melisandre, who had been observing the work being done whilst walking along each trench as she felt that she needed to be more involved in the process, was the one who had spoken. Clegane just grunted in response, not wanting to take notice of the strange woman. She had never interacted with him before. Who was she to tell him how to do his job? "It will be easier to spread the fire when the time comes if they're connected," she explained but he wasn't listening for a different reason now. The mention of fire had spooked him, thinking back to the painful memory of when he got his wounds. He had been powerless as his brother pushed him into the flames. He still remembered his own screams. The Red Woman picked up on his apparent unease. "Is something the matter?"

"Will you just fuck off?" he responded impatiently, annoyed that he was so troubled by his past. A show of weakness. "Why are you even here? Wandering around? Waste of fucking space, if you ask me." She ignored his insults, seeing them as just deflections. She looked at him properly, searching for answers.

"A fear of fire. Based on a traumatic moment in your childhood. Anyone would be scared."

"I'm not fucking scared."

"Yet you now realise that fire can have a purpose. You've looked into the flames, just as I have, and have been greeted by the Lord. You find it improbable that something so destructive could have a use." He threw his shovel onto the ground and stepped over to her quickly. To be fair to her, she stood her ground, even despite his larger size.

"If you carry on talking, you'll be the first to test whether these spikes are sharp enough. Now fuck off." He finished with a roar and, after a brief moment of looking at him, the Red Woman began to walk away, leaving Sandor to contemplate her words.

Further along the trench were Jaime and Brienne, who were busy digging as well. Bronn, not wanting to get himself too muddy and stating that he deserved to enjoy himself before he likely died, had instead decided to help test the new swords that were being made deep below Winterfell. Jaime was thankful for that, noting how the sellsword would be useless at this task. Probably more so than he was, struggling to grip the spade properly with his golden hand. Brienne was trying to focus on her work but could constantly feel a pair of eyes on her. She eventually decided to look up and saw the wildling, Tormund, staring at her lecherously. It seemed that he was trying to go at double the standard speed in an attempt to impress her. She simply rolled her eyes and ignored him, causing him to pout.

"It looks like you have an admirer," Jaime noted, humour evident in his voice. She frowned at him, wishing that someone else was the one to notice her in that way.

"I don't know why. I haven't given him the time of day," she complained.

"Maybe he thinks you're playing hard to get. Tell him to bugger off and he actually might do so."

"I don't know...I guess it's kind of sweet. I'm not used to people looking at me like he does."

"I wouldn't have taken you for the sort of person who would want that." And that was the crux of the matter, she thought bitterly. She just sighed and continued digging, Jaime copying her actions. He allowed the silence between them to settle, the only sound being metal breaking the dirt around them. "You know...there's talk going around that they're telling people to flee south."

"And your point is?" she responded testily, wondering where he was going with this.

"Well...would you consider it? I'd like to know that you were safe." She stopped digging and glared at him. She pointed her spade at him from close proximity.

"I'm just as accomplished as you at holding a sword in a fight, thank you very much."

"I don't doubt that for one second, even if I did have a full collection of hands. But you've never faced these monsters before. It won't be like a normal fight."

"You have never fought them either!" she responded. "Why are you so adamant that I leave? Is it because I'm a woman?"

"No! It's just that I don't want you risking your life. You didn't sign up for this. You could go back to King's Landing, ask to fight on behalf of the king. Have a position of honour that you deserve."

"Have you banged your head? I would much rather stay here and fight for a just cause than sacrifice my morals for some over-indulged, snotty-nosed little runt." She remembered who she was talking about and to. "Sorry. I shouldn't speak about your nephew like that." He just laughed.

"It was quite enjoyable actually. Your forehead creases in a peculiar way when you get angry." She hastily tried covering that part of her face. "That's just an option. You could travel. Get away from here."

"Jaime, I am not going. Nothing you can say will change that fact. I was born to fight so that's what I will do, not run away." He bowed his head, upset that he hadn't been able to change her mind. She observed him carefully, thinking that there might be more to it than just him wanting her to stay alive. Maybe he would never look at her the way she wanted him to, but at least she could tell he cared for her.

xxxxxxxxxx

With so many armies currently housed in Winterfell, it took a lot of work and energy to feed all the soldiers. Food stations, the main one being set up in the courtyard, were scattered across the grounds, meaning that everyone had access to their share of the rations. They never expected anything tasty, just something that did the job. An army on an empty stomach was one that would lose. It was Davos' turn to run the primary station. He had gladly volunteered, wanting to help out in any fashion that he could. And he was able to not only tolerate the brutish language of the soldiers but also often take part in it. It was usually a fairly pleasant task, getting to speak to many people from different backgrounds. But today there was a hanging shadow over his job. Along with the food he was handing out, it was now time to give every person that came up who would be involved in the battle their dragonglass weapons. That meant the people he was used to speaking to were now faces of those who probably wouldn't be alive for much longer. It was a sobering thought and one that he tried really hard to put at the back of his mind. So far, he had been unsuccessful.

Ser Barristan Selmy walked up to the temporary shelter, smiling when he saw it was Davos on duty. "Evening, Seaworth," he greeted. Davos returned the smile quickly, even though he wasn't in the mood to do so, and began preparing a bowl of stew for the knight.

"Hopefully this keeps you warm tonight," he said. "That cold is drawing in. Think yourself lucky that you have a room inside those walls. The number of men who come here complaining about the shoddiness of their tents. And I'm making sure not to use the same sort of language as they normally do." Barristan laughed loudly, accepting the proffered bowl.

"I would gladly sleep in the same conditions if I had to. War isn't a time of luxuries." He took a quick sip of the watery substance. "Which is evidenced by the state of the food."

"I can take it off your hands if you want," Davos warned. "I'm sure someone would enjoy it." Selmy held it close to his chest, sending the message that he wouldn't allow that to happen. "I need to give you this as well." He produced a longsword that was in a wooden crate and displayed it to Barristan. The main body of it was plain metal but all around the edge was sharp dragonglass. It had a certain terrifying beauty about it. Selmy tentatively took a hold of it and slowly swung it, moving it from side to side to test its weight.

"Must mean we're getting close," he remarked, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I'll have to make sure that my armour still fits. Good day, Ser Davos." He received a curt nod in response before he left. Davos sighed.

"Can I get one of those?" Davos didn't know where the voice came from. It was particularly quiet and timid but certainly had a stubbornness to it. He peered over the serving hatch and looked down to see a young girl dressed in scruffy clothes. She had a very strong Northern accent despite her age so he presumed that she must be part of the Free Folk contingent. She was younger than Shireen but he couldn't help being reminded of her. He definitely needed to somehow see the young Baratheon before she left.

"Get one of what?" he asked confused.

"One of those sharp things. I've seen people getting them. If I'm going to fight, I'll need one."

"You want to fight?" He was very perplexed by this girl.

"Of course!"

"I don't think they'll allow you to fight. You're much too young."

"I am not! My brother gets to fight and he's only twelve years older. It's not fair." Davos smiled at the girl. He decided to try a different approach.

"Do you have a mother?"

"Yes." Children were never ones for unnecessarily long answers.

"Well, you've got an important job then. No doubt you'll be leaving here soon with your mother but you still have to protect her. A strong girl like you won't turn down such a crucial task." She was thinking about it for sure. "I tell you what…" He rummaged through the crate next to him and found a small piece of crude dragonglass that hadn't been incorporated into a sword or dagger. "Take this. Be careful with it. That's to help you but only when you really need it. You can only have it if you promise to go with your mother though."

"Yes, sir!" He handed it to her and she turned it over in her hands, inspecting it with excited eyes. He filled up a bowl of stew, filling it up more than he usually would.

"Now take this and run off," he said and she did as she was told. He watched her with a sad smile as she travelled into the distance. As he was looking out, he noticed Jorah walking through the courtyard so shouted him over. He'd been looking forward to this. The Mormont knight veered away from his previous destination to see what Davos wanted.

"You shouted," he said suspiciously. Instead of answering verbally, Davos bent down and picked up the thin box on the floor by his feet. He placed it on the wooden panel in front of him, still not saying a word. Jorah gave him a sceptical look before slowly opening it. Inside was a pristine longsword, wider and lengthier than his current one. He stroked the silver and black hilt, observing how it had been forged into the shape of a bear and a dragon side by side. It was a magnificent creation but he didn't know why he was looking at it. He glanced at Davos questioningly.

"Daenerys left this for you. She was made aware that you don't have access to Longclaw because of your...history with your father. She said that Jon had offered to give it you back but she refused, knowing that you'd never take it back. Instead, she went down to the metal forge and had this made for you using a piece of Valyrian steel. Count yourself lucky - I have no idea where she would have found any."

"It looks expensive."

"She didn't mention the price. Said that you'd complain otherwise."

"It's a wonderful gift." He realised what it symboled - he had been accepted into a new family. He felt the sting of tears and quickly looked away. "I...I should try and find her. She should know how grateful I am." A brief nod later and Jorah was on his way.

"I think you know of a way of showing her that if you know what I mean!" Davos shouted, wanting to tease his friend. He laughed as Jorah picked up his pace. It was good to have these moments, simple moments where you got to enjoy yourself, especially before a war. He dearly hoped he'd get to have some more.