Chapter 12 – The Long Night II
Ice spiders big as hounds. That was how the legend goes. Not ice spiders big as a fucking horse. "AHHHH!" Tormund roared as he hacked off the front leg of the spider in front of him. The overgrown insect collapsed to the ground and the Wildling berserker finished it off by jamming his blade into its head. The spider's greenish-purple blood splashed onto his face with a little going into his mouth. Sour and bitter at the same time. "I fucking hate spiders."
These creatures were straight out of a nightmare; giant spiders with eight creepy legs that allowed them to scale the walls of the castle like it was nothing but a small hill. They attack by launching their entire body at you and once they take you down onto the ground, it's over. Their legs hold your limbs down while their fangs gouge your face out. The screaming is inevitable but what's worse is that you're left as a faceless thing that no longer resembles a human. Not something anyone wants to be remembered as.
"We can't hold them!" shouted a wildling beside him.
"We hold them!" Tormund shouted back. "Jon Snow told us to defend the East Gate and that's what we're gonna do!"
Another spider came over the wall and crawled toward them at an unnerving speed. Watching these monsters approach them broke the spirit of some of the Wildlings, causing them to flee in fear. But that just made it easy pickings for the spider who immediately jumped on the back of one of the deserters. "NOOOO! PLEASE! HELP ME!" His screams were silenced by a sick crunching sound as the spider chewed on his skull.
"Fuck Jon Snow and fuck this! I'm out of here!" said the wildling beside him. Before the coward could flee and bring down the morale of the soldiers around them, Tormund slashed open his neck.
"Anyone else want to leave?!" Nobody said a word or made a move to leave. Facing giant spiders was scary but it could not compare to the crazy ginger that was leading them. There were a little over twenty spiders still alive; they were able to keep half of them at bay when the monsters initially tried to climb over but eventually, they were forced back to where they are now. They would need to contain this problem to their side of the castle, otherwise, these things would cause serious issues to the North Gate.
"Come on!" The free folk led by Tormund roared as they charged into battle while the spiders lunged at them in response. Tormund ducked as the first spider flew over him and came face to face with a second one. The monster slashed at him with its front leg, but Tormund was able to parry the attack with his right and counter with his left. The dragonglass machete sliced the leg clean off and the spider let out a hiss of pain before retreating a few steps. A clear liquid that looked like drool started dripping out of the spider's mouth and before Tormund even had a chance to react, the spider spat out the ball of liquid right onto his upper right shoulder.
The liquid quickly permeated through his fur clothing, reaching the skin beneath. It was cold and sticky but more importantly, he was beginning to feel numb over where the liquid had touched. Sensing that its poison had taken root, the spider attacked him ferociously despite being down one front leg. At first, Tormund was still able to fight with his right arm despite the challenge but soon, his range of motion shrank to the point where he was unable to move it. His opponent seized that opportunity and pounced on him with its entire weight, knocking him down to the ground. Knowing what came next, Tormund put his other machete in between the spider's fangs and his face. The overgrown insect viciously pressed down to get to its meal and, with only one good arm, Tormund would not be able to hold for much longer.
He screamed as he struggled with all the strength he had when suddenly, he felt a flicker of hope. The feeling from his other arm was coming back. The poison was wearing off and he could feel the tip of his fingers move. His other machete was within reach; if he could only get a bit more movement from his arm then he could use it to kill the monster that was on top of him. But it was not to be as the spider, instinctively knowing that its poison was wearing off, got up on its hind legs so that it could give a finishing blow while the human was still half-paralyzed. Tormund's eyes grew wide as he watched the spider bring down its sickle-like claws. His life did not flash before his eyes, only a blur of white did. The next thing he knew, the spider was off of him and he could hear the sound of its body getting torn to pieces by fangs and claws.
Only when he got up did he realize that he had just been saved by Ghost, the albino wolf that was always close to Jon Snow. While it was docile and well-behaved in the presence of its master; looking at it now, the beast truly lived up to the legends about direwolves. Five-feet in length and tall enough to be at his chest even in its natural position on all four legs. The greenish-purple blood of the spider now stained its white fur after it was finished with its prey. Its garnet-red eyes met his and at that moment, he knew that him being saved was no coincidence. "Alright lads, let's clean this mess up!"
Just like their masters, the spiders were also deathly afraid of fire and once it was discovered, the living took advantage of that information. With the help of the direwolf on their side, the rest of the spiders were easily overpowered, cornered and slaughtered. Many were victims of the spiders' poison, but it burned through just as quickly as it acted. Some had died and even Ghost had lost part of its right ear fighting, but it was as good as it was going to get against giant ice spiders. "I owe the boy a drink after all this," said Tormund as he petted Ghost on the head. The direwolf turned its head towards him and looked genuinely insulted, "and you, of course. Ever had roasted reindeer before?" Ghost's ears perked up at the sound of that and Tormund let out a hearty laugh. "Roasted reindeer it is."
"Tormund, look!"
Over the wall, they saw two or three dozen more ice spiders approach the castle, escorted by wights this time. "Get in position!" Everyone followed his order, except for Ghost, who ran off to one of the guard towers.
"Where is the wolf going?!"
"How the fuck would I know?" They all watched Ghost curiously as he climbed to the top of the tower and began howling at the moon. Within moments, countless howls answered back from the forest and before the soldiers could even register what had happened, a pack of a hundred wolves led by a direwolf with grey fur dashed out of the clearing and began systematically hunting the spiders and wights. While they may not have been able to 'kill' the wights, they were able to tear all their limbs off and render them useless. As for the spiders, they were just game like any other animal who dared challenge Nymeria's pack. In the wilds of the northern Riverlands, her pack competed with all kinds of predators, from bears to shadowcats, and Nymeria has never been bested.
The hunt did not last long. Atop the guard tower of her old home, she saw her littermate staring back at her. Growing up, the white one was not always with the rest of them. He was different and quiet, but he was still family. They were the last of their litter and she would not ignore his call. Arya was also somewhere within the castle. Even after all these years separated from each other, their bond still held strong. If it were not for the wall of green fire, she would have gone to join her master. But as of now, it was not possible to reunite with her, so she'll have to settle with watching over her from afar. She howled one last time toward Ghost before retreating into the forest for another flank.
While the living were able to secure a small victory at the East Gate, they were slowly getting pushed back at the North Gate where hundreds of wights were pouring in from. Each man and woman there defending must have killed more than ten wights each, but there was still no end in sight. The dead fought tirelessly but for the living, each swing of their sword was a little less energy and each shot fired was one less arrow.
In the middle of the foray, fighting beside his commander, was Jaime Lannister. He was no stranger to the battlefield, nor did he ever shy away from the frontlines. He relished the feeling of adrenaline that came from crossing swords with a foe face to face. In those times, life or death was decided in a split second and that's when he felt the most alive. But this was different. There was no thrill of battle here, only the feeling that he was slowly getting strangled. These things that rose from the dead did not fight for survival, they fought to wear them down. There was no glory to be won in victory nor honor to be had in defeat, only death lied ahead.
"Stand firm!" Brienne's voice was as sharp as her Valyrian sword, cutting through the chaos of battle and dragging him out of his dark thoughts. She moved brilliantly, better than when he fought her last. She had been all fundamentals back then, but now, with some real battles under her belt, her transitions were more fluid and adaptable. He felt like he was a boy again, ten and six, squiring for Ser Barristan Selmy. She wasn't as perfect as Barristan the Bold was but that feeling of fighting for a good cause, for justice, for honor, beside someone he respected, that was still there.
A bit of vigor flowed back into his body, fueling his spirit and sharpening his senses. "Hold the line!" he shouted as he added a few more to the body count of wights he has put down, a number that nobody would believe possible to come from a cripple. With only one hand, he was less than half the fighter he once was, but he was at a point where he didn't have to do mental gymnastics just to figure out how to swing his sword. His fighting style now crutched on his talented footwork and instinct from experience, and if there was one thing this gilded steel hand was good for it was blocking. He was never one to fight with a shield since why block when you can just kill your opponent? But now that it became difficult to kill his opponent, blocking was a good way to stay alive.
Just as he was getting into a good rhythm, a deep chill rang down his spine and he turned to the broken gate. Surrounded by wights, with slow and steady steps, the first White Walker past through the gates of Winterfell. The ice demon's physique did not differ much from a human's, apart from small white horns that protruded out of its skull, but its presence was certainly felt. Armed with a double-bladed sword made out of dark ice, the only word Jaime could describe it with was menacing. He was not the only one that felt this way, some soldiers even took an instinctive step back when they laid eyes on the Other. Two more White Walkers entered but they, for some reason, lacked the same presence as the first one did. They were still terrifying, but Menace felt ancient, like it has always existed and will always exist. Not to mention the amount of bloodlust that was just oozing out of it like a black fog. Some soldiers just followed orders, but others enjoyed the acts of violence on the battlefield, and this one was definitively the latter.
The three White Walkers joined the fray and the tide of battle instantly worsened. The capable warriors struggled mightily against the regular ice demons but stood no chance against Menace. It twirled its double-bladed sword as it advanced on the defenders and nobody was able to stand against its continuous attacks. The commander of the crows fought bravely, at least he was willing to attack the brief opening the Other showed. But with a quick parry from one blade and a cross slash from the other, Dolorous Edd fell.
There was no time to think. All Jaime knew was that he had to stop it or else their defense here would crumble, and in the blink of an eye, the Kingslayer found himself face to face with the Other. His heart raced in his chest, with a swing of his sword he could save hundreds if not thousands of lives. A line in the White Book that would go beyond his act of kingslaying, that would redeem his honor. "Come on!" said Jaime as he clutched his sword and felt the empowering weight of the Valyrian steel. Menace smirked and came at him with the same spinning attack it's been using to bulldoze through living, but Jaime was prepared for it. After the second strike, when the blade crosses over to its other shoulder for the next rotation, that split second leaves the Other completely undefended and he pounced at that opening.
A moment's hesitation and he would have fallen victim to either of its blades but if there was one thing Jaime Lannister did not lack, it was confidence in his fighting abilities. Timing it perfectly, he dived through the moving blades and caught Menace with no guard available. It tried to do the same thing it did against Edd but having seen that move before, Jaime used his right hand to trap the blade that was coming for the block and thrust his sword toward its chest. The Valyrian steel was within inches of reaching the Other before Menace let out a loud screech that caused a cold shockwave that sent Jaime flying backward. Landing on his back knocked the air out of him but luckily nothing was broken. He got up as fast as he could and saw that the ice demon was winded from whatever it just did. Hundreds of wights around them and outside of the castle collapsed with no sign of getting back up again. The two other White Walkers were clearly surprised that Menace had been pushed this far and turned their attention onto Jaime, but they were called off by the crackling voice of their leader.
Menace slowly straightened up and held his double-bladed sword out like a spear. Jaime swallowed nervously, it was a much more disciplined form than before and it would undoubtedly be harder to break through than the previous careless spinning. It wasn't going to underestimate him this time and while his ego was satisfied, his chances of survival just went down drastically. The assault began immediately as Menace unleashed a flurry of attacks that struck with the power of a greatsword and moved at the speed of a dagger. The edge in weapon choice was showing as each of Menace's strikes was half a tempo faster than a normal sword's and Jaime was forced on the defensive retreat. 'I can't keep up!' He was slow to react to a slash from up high, and the blade blew past his arm-guard and left a nasty cut above his eye.
The wound would scar but the problem became the blood that flowed down into his right eye, clouding his vision in red. It needed to be stitched up otherwise he would not last another minute without his full vision. However, his opponent gave him no such rest and continued to pressure him with blow after blow. Jaime fought with all the strength he could muster but the power of the Other was overwhelming, and it brought him to his knees. As he looked up into those cold merciless blue eyes, he knew that this was the end. He gritted his teeth as Menace raised his double-bladed sword, if this was the end then so be it. He would not scream, he would die with his Lannister pride intact. The blade came for his neck and he wondered if losing his head would feel the same as when he lost his hand. But right before the blade could reach him, a flash of steel stopped it in its track. The ensuing ring from the clash between Valyrian steel and the White Walker's ice weapon nearly deafened him.
The blade had come so close to taking his head off that Brienne's sword was almost touching his neck to stop it. A bit more and the White Walker would be able to force both blades through him, but Brienne's guard would not break. "ARGH!" she screamed as she summoned up all of her strength and finally pushed away Menace's sword, causing the Other to take a step back. "Can you still fight?" she asked without taking her eyes off her opponent.
"I can," said Jaime as he stood up off the ground and tried not to stumble. The truth was that he was exhausted from keeping death at bay for so long, but he would be damned if he allowed her to fight that thing by herself. "It can swing that thing a lot faster than you think."
"One blade each then."
"Think you can handle it, Lady Brienne?" asked Jaime as he shook off the soreness from his arm and shoulder.
"I've bested you once before, Kingslayer." The two smiled; although he was outclassed by himself, he was filled with confidence now that he had a skilled fighter he believed in fighting beside him. "Let's do this!"
Menace switched his stance to a quarterstaff grip as the two knights rushed him. He was able to keep both blades in front to defend himself but right away he found himself on the defensive. The two humans were synchronizing their strikes and covering for each other. Whenever he blocked an attack and tried to retaliate, the other would always keep his second blade in check. While the man lacked the speed and power, he fought smartly to open up attacks of opportunity for his partner. Even though the woman by herself would not have been a match for him, she put him under immense pressure thanks to the help she was getting. 'I need to separate them.'
They were winning. He could feel it as their swords came closer and closer to landing a killing blow against the White Walker. It had tried to use the wights as distractions, but they were able to quickly take care of them before rejoining together in the two-on-one battle against Menace. In a bout of anger, the Other lashed out at Brienne with a careless attack that she easily deflected. This allowed Jaime to jump in and attack it while its defenses were weak. His sword was blocked by the ice demon's second blade, but he did manage to use his prosthetic arm to backhand it right across the chin. The Other stumbled backward and wiped away the blue blood that trickled down its lips. It shot him a dirty look and Jaime knew that this being, that thought itself a god compared to humans, was burning with shame and rage over the fact that it had just been hit by a cripple. He almost had the urge to laugh but there would be plenty of time for that later.
Several wights swarmed them again and although he was still tired from his fight with the White Walker, the end was in sight. If they could defeat Menace, the tide of battle may turn in their favor. Instilled with a sense of hope, Jaime began to quickly cut down the dead that was blocking his way. But suddenly, a wight that was catapulted by the undead giants landed behind him and latched onto his back. Threatening to take him down to the ground, Jaime quickly backed into a wall, crushing the undead skeleton against the stones of the castle with his armor. However, now that his back was against the wall, several wights surrounded him, and with no room to escape to, Jaime got pinned against it as each wight tried to take a bite out of his face. The putrid smell of decay that was coming out of their rotten mouths was suffocating but still, Jaime did all he could do to push back the wights that were on him.
Luckily for him, Brienne still had his back, or front in this case, as she cut down the wights that were pinning him to the wall, freeing him to cut down the rest. "Where is Menace?" asked Jaime.
Brienne didn't even need to ask who Jaime was referring to. "It's trying to escape! Come on!" The two knights chased after the White Walker, but it was already at the gate and they weren't going to make it. However, they weren't the only one that was keeping an eye on the White Walker. Several men from Bear Island, led by Lyanna Mormont, came to stand between Menace and the gate. The young girl was a she-bear through and through as she raised her axe in the air and shouted out her house words, "Here we stand!" Menace responded with an ice-shattering roar in response and engaged the Mormonts. The men from bear island fought as fiercely as the animal that was on their sigil, but Menace returned it threefold. Jaime and Brienne hurried as fast as they could but more wights were coming to block their way. Even outnumbered, the Other was still cleaving through them with his double-bladed sword. Without the right strategy to keep his two blades in check, the ice demon was unmatched in speed and power.
Seeing that the northmen would not hold out for much longer, Brienne pushed herself to make short work of the dead that was stopping her to go help them out. Jaime was still cutting down the ones stopping him, but he would be able to manage the few that were left. The last of the men guarding Lyanna Mormont was cut down and all that remained between Menace and the gate was the heir to Bear Island. She showed more bravery than grown men that were four times her age, but bravery was not enough. "NO!" shouted Brienne as Menace drove his sword through the breastplate of the little girl. Blood spilled out of her mouth before her body went limp and Menace stepped on her body to pull his blade out of her chest.
'In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.' Not even one night had passed and she had already forsaken her vows as a knight. She gritted her teeth as she watched Menace wipe the blood of the fierce little girl off his blade. "Monster!" Brienne charged at it with strength she didn't know she had. A fire was burning within her and it will not be quenched until justice is served. 'I swear to all the gods I will kill you!' Oathkeeper felt hot in her hands, like it was lending her strength to honor her words. Menace was unleashing its attacks the same as before, but she was keeping up with them. She could clearly see all of its attacks and the windows of opportunity that came with them. A parry into a thrust to the face left a streak of blue blood across its cheek. The pale skin of the White Walker melted at the contact of the Valyrian steel and Menace screamed in pain as it backed away immediately.
Jaime was speechless. Brienne was moving so quickly that it looked like she was wielding two swords at the same time. Her movements may have even matched Ser Arthur Dayne himself! Strength and honor, she was the embodiment of a knight and she was the symbol of justice that he will always aspire to be. Menace tried to block Brienne's last attack but Oathkeeper easily sliced through the shaft of the double-bladed sword, cutting it in two and leaving an ugly crack in the ice armor of the Other. The duel was decided, she was the far better fighter. Brienne brought down Oathkeeper for the finishing blow. But Menace caught the blade in his hand. The hand crumbled away like broken ice but at that moment, its other hand reached for his blade and Jaime's world was plunged into darkness.
*Author's Note: Big deviation from the show now, let me know what you guys think! And yes, that fight scene is ripped out of the prequels :P Reviews help motivate me a lot so if you are liking the story so far, please take a few seconds to show some love XD
Guest: Appreciate the review, hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!