It's been a while! Thank you so much if you are still with me, this one was so tough to write! Enjoy!
At first, it got dark. After, it turned foggy. Then came the cold. And at last, there came death.
No human sound was heard in the castle of Winterfell and Winter Town. Everything was silent, covered in a thick blanket of snow. Jaime Lannister felt something he had not experienced in a long time: fear. As his horse trotted slowly along the undisturbed ground, his heart was beating too fast and he was sweaty despite the temperatures. There were no footprints, no corpses, nothing to suggest that people had ever lived or fought here.
At the start of his journey, many people had crossed his path, all heading south towards King's Landing. Some of them asked him if he was crazy heading north, others just gave him dirty looks. He tried to keep his head down and stayed away from inns and guesthouses for fear of being recognised. Jaime Lannister would rather fall on his own sword before he would return to his maddened sister.
However, as he looked around the empty buildings now, he was questioning his own sanity. There had not been any people on the roads in a long time, and now that he had finally arrived at his destination, it was eerily silent and desolate. He slowly rode through the main gate, which had been thrown off its hinges, the only sign so far that a fight had occurred here. As he entered the courtyard, he heard a faint sound. The croaking of crows. He eagerly stretched his head around, looking for the source of the noise, when he saw them soaring above the Godswood. Jaime rode through the small gate that led to the Starks' sacred place, steadily towards the noise that was getting louder and louder. At last, he broke through a line of trees and got a clear view of the small pond that was next to a massive weirwood tree. His horse almost threw him off at the sight that greeted them, and Jaime had to take a double-turn.
A dragon lay sprawled over the small clearing, half covered in snow, its eyes closed, no movement indicating that it was still alive. However, even in its dead state, it looked like it had rotten long before. He knew that dragons usually spotted livid colours, but this one was just grey, its scales missing in a few places, ragged skin hanging off it. Jaime got off his horse, which nervously galloped away into the trees. Slowly, he approached the carcass, and as he did, he saw a shining sword stuck in its right eye. The closer he got, the more his astonishment grew. He took his good hand and pulled it free with force. Its rubies glistened in the dark light of winter as if the sun were shining on them. He was holding Dark Sister.
At least a dozen curse words escaped him as he stared at the weapon. What was it doing here and where was its last owner?
The sound of the birds took him out of his daze, and he looked around, trying to locate the source of the noise. As he carefully rounded the dragon, he spied them just inches from the massive body, forming a circle around a small heave of snow. Jaime approached the spot, and the birds angrily took off. Crouching down, he wiped some of the snow away to unearth a human arm. His heart dropped into his stomach at first, but he wiped away more and more until a full body became visible. When he had cleared the snow off the face, he was surprised to find tears in his eyes.
Before him lay Samaya Tyrell, beautiful even in death, her clothing torn and ragged, and her expression grim. He knelt beside her, utterly puzzled and confused. Why was she still here? Why was she able to kill the dragon? What was he supposed to do now?
As he knelt on the cold ground contemplating his own sanity, the loud croak of a crow disturbed the silence, and almost unnoticeably, the girl coughed. Jaime was hovering over her face in an instant. Was she still alive? He held his arm plate in front of her mouth and by the Gods, it condensated ever so slightly.
He had to get her somewhere warm. Desperately, he looked around, as if anybody was there to help him and her. Alas, he was alone save his horse and the crows. Quickly, he sheathed Dark Sister in his own sword belt and went to work. Jaime took a deep breath and put his arms underneath her. He was surprised as he lifted her so easily; she seemed to weigh next to nothing. Slowly, he started walking towards the castle, whistling for his horse as he went. The animal only joined him as he approached the gate, and he put Samaya on its back with a lot of effort. Once again, he cursed his missing hand and the men who had maimed him.
While he led his horse slowly toward the holdfast, Jaime Lannister knew that it was his destiny to be here. No matter if she lived or died somebody had needed to see this. And maybe, if he ever saw other people again, he could put the pieces together and learn why Samaya, a bastard Targaryen, had killed a dragon in Winterfell.
"Any news from the North?" Jon asked impatiently.
"Not yet, your Grace. Even our fastest riders will take a while to get to Winterfell," Tyrion Lannister answered him. Jon huffed.
"If I could just go myself, it would take a fraction of the time," he suggested once again.
"We both know you cannot. The kingdom we knew is no more. This is a new era, a new rule, and you have to show to the people that you will not abandon them," the small man answered while he poured them both a cup of wine.
"If she is dead… I have already lost so much; I can't lose her."
"Your Grace, the army seemed to be in full force as we fought them. We have had no word from anywhere further north than the Trident. I suggest you make yourself familiar with the worst outcome," Tyrion tried to reason with him.
"Leave me," Jon commanded him.
"But, your Grace, there are many matters that…" his companion tried to protest.
"Leave, now!" Jon shouted at him, his anger boiling like a bowl of hot stew inside of him. Tyrion bowed deeply before he left him alone.
Jon sighed deeply and brought the cup to his lips. Never in a million moons did he think he would end up here. In the King's chambers in the Red Keep, where people would call him their King. He had never felt so alone.
All of their plans were put to ashes when they had gotten word of the fast approach of the army of the Dead. On his way back from Winterfell, they had met up with Daenerys and her full forces near the Trident. She had been furious to learn that Samaya had stayed at Winterfell, but Bran spoke to her in private and somehow, she had accepted it. They had tried to get into position, waiting for the Lannister army, only to realise they weren't coming. Cersei had betrayed them.
A few days after they had arrived, the fog came. And then there was silence. At last, they met their opponent. The fight had lasted hours, as the Dead take no rest, and battles were not held over days.
Everyone had been expecting the Night King to arrive on a horrible ice dragon, but there were no beasts soaring the sky except for Drogon and Rhaegal. However, mid-battle, he heard a skin-piercing cry and watched in horror as Drogon tumbled from the heavens, Daenerys clinging onto him. When they found her later, she was sprawled across the frozen ground in an odd angle, her chest no longer rising, her eyes never opening again.
Rhaegal, in his utter rage, had decimated most of the wights and walkers, but even the few they had to fight were pushing everyone to their limit. Jon only had one goal: to kill the monster controlling them all. However, he seemed untouchable, a mass of undead bodies between him and his target. At a certain point in battle, when it seemed another lifetime ago that any of them had ever felt warmth, Jon looked at his main opponent and his eyes widened in horror. The Night King was staring right at him, hands at his sides raised in half-air, and Jon knew what he was trying to do.
He let out a loud scream and started bolting towards the ledge where his undead enemy was standing with his generals. Jon was joined by Ser Jorah and a few others, faces he would only see later. Everybody that crossed his path was cut down in a matter of seconds by either him or his companions. However, they seemed to be fighting a losing battle when suddenly, a flock of crows descended from the sky and attacked the Night King. Most of them fell dead as they came close, but it provided a short relief, and Jon started climbing up the steep hill.
He did not see nor hear anything besides the Night King, and he lunged at him. The crows disappeared, and suddenly Jon's body stopped. Longclaw was buried deep where his enemy's heart should be, and he felt an icy hand around his throat. Time stood still for an instant before everything turned bright. And then it was over.
As Jon came to, he was inside a tent on a makeshift bed, covered in furs. Every muscle and bone in his body ached and his throat was dry. He groaned loudly, and that was when Sansa's face appeared in his line of vision.
"You're alive, thank the Seven, you're alive!" she sobbed as she hugged him tightly. Jon's face grimaced in pain.
"Sansa, what…" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. She had let him go and he saw tears shining in her eyes, tears she wiped away quickly.
"You killed him, Jon. You killed the Night King. And when you did, all of the others just… stopped moving. The fight was over. We won," she explained. That brought a small smile to his lips.
"Daenerys… Arya…," he croaked out and her expression darkened.
"Daenerys fell from her dragon when they took it down. And Arya… we still haven't found her body," she explained, her voice choked, but her eyes without tears. It was like the fog cleared from his mind, and Jon remembered. He had watched the fall… and he had seen Arya overpowered, but he had been too far away to help…
"Who else?" he asked in a stern voice.
"Jon, you are still weak…" Sansa started, but he interrupted her.
"Who else died, Sansa?" he had asked, much stronger this time.
"Ser Jorah Mormont, Greyworm, the Unsullied commander and about 5,000 of our army," she finally answered. Jon closed his eyes and sighed.
"Bran?" he then asked. Sansa was quiet for a moment.
"He's alive, but he's… changed. His eyes were glazed over the whole time. He set the crows on the Night King, but I think it has taken something from him. He left yesterday without a word as to where he was going. Just took five men, and headed west," Sansa said. That answer raised another question in Jon.
"How long have I been out then?"
"It's been four days since the battle. We had thought you dead at first. When they had told me that you were in the fire… I did not think you would have survived it. You truly are a Targaryen, Jon," she whispered, as if in awe.
"What fire?" Jon asked her, utterly confused.
"I was not there, but they said you had stabbed the Night King, and he had his hand around your throat when Rhaegal soared down from the sky and spew fire at you both. That's how the monster was killed. Your sword through his heart and dragon fire raining down on him," she explained. Suddenly, it made sense to Jon. That was the brightness he had seen. And he had not burnt… because he was a Targaryen? He found it hard to believe.
"What of Samaya?" he finally asked the question he dreaded the answer to.
"We've had no news from the North. Bran said nothing, he just left. Tyrion sent a few able riders to Winterfell as soon as the battle was over," Sansa told him. Jon swallowed and nodded solemnly.
"I wish to see Ser Davos and Tyrion. Would you call for them?" he asked her. She nodded, but before she got up, she put her hand to his cheek. Jon revelled in its soft warmth.
"I know we've had our differences, Jon. However, I am beyond happy that you are alive. I do not dare think about what would have happened if you had not been there. Thank you. You saved us all," she said quietly before giving him a soft kiss on the forehead and taking her leave.
Jon had stared after her, inner turmoil contradicting her very words. Why did he feel like he was not able to save his loved ones if he had supposedly saved them all? Was that the price he had to pay for victory? If so, what kind of victory was it?
That doubt was still raging in him now, high up in his rooms in the Red Keep. It had been three weeks since that day. Three long, very long weeks. And Jon was tired of waiting. He stood up quickly and grabbed his travelling cloak and his sword.
As he stormed out of his room and past the two guards, he could hear them call after him in question. He did not stop. All through the Red Keep he marched, not paying any mind to anyone. At last, Tyrion caught up with him.
"Your Grace, where are you going?" he asked him, very much out of breath.
"Get me Ser Davos and Samwell. Now!" Jon barked at a few guards standing around, staring at him. Hastily, they shuffled around before taking off.
"Your Grace, may I ask?" Tyrion interrupted his march once again. Jon stopped in his tracks and stared down at the man who was now his Hand.
"I have done enough waiting. The people want to trust their King? They can trust that he looks after those he loves, no matter where they might be!" he almost shouted at the man, his own chest heaving from the brisk walk and his anger. Tyrion was quiet for a moment, eyeing him up and down. Finally, he nodded.
"I understand. But your Grace, is it not saver to take some fighting men with you?" he finally answered, his tone and demeanour calm, yet worried. Jon gave him a fierce look.
"I do not require soldiers, Tyrion. I have a dragon, and I have my anger. Should things be as bad as everyone tells me they might be, I need counsellors like Ser Davos and Samwell. Not to help me fight, but to keep me from doing something I might regret. Can I trust you to keep things in order here while I fly north?" he urged. Tyrion swallowed heavily before composing himself.
"Yes, your Grace, you can," he answered and this time, when Jon turned around, he did not bother to follow. If the new king wanted to jump on the back of a dragon and fly north, who was he to stop him? Slowly, he turned around and walked back inside the Red Keep, hoping that whatever it was Jon would find up there, at least it would bring him peace.
Tadaaa... what do you think Jon will find up North? And what do you think happened in King's Landing? Answers in the next chapter ;)
My plan is to finish this story before the new season starts, so we're only a few chapters out! Hang in there and I hope you will be pleased.
As always, reviews much appreciated! Much love ;)