My journey to the wall was stifling. Two more men followed me as aides due to Sansa and Arya's demands. I'm not used to being mothered and I'd rather not. I did not fight them on it though. Arya had glared at me murderously enough for me to know better.

The girl wouldn't take no for an answer.

Henric and Edric rode in the front of the carriage. They seemed able enough. If not a bit talkative. I like my silence and these two fucks haven't stopped talking since we exited the walls of Winterfell. Their curiosity over me is becoming nerve racking.

"My lord, might I ask where you got that weapon? It's a wanky shape. Reminds me of a cock," Henric called over the racket of the carriage. I growled under my breath.

"It's my family sword. If you don't want it down your fucking throat you'll shut the fuck up," I said, deadly calm. I could almost hear his throat bob over the wind.

"Fucking hell! I like this lad! I can never get this fucker to shut his mouth, my lord," Edric laughed, turning around to give me a grin. I glared at him and turned away.

They kept going on about random topics. The best whores around Westoros. The most beautiful wenches in Winterfell. Who has the best sword. Where I actually come from and which sister I'm bedding. They droned on and I blocked them out. Thinking about Arya and that kiss.

She'd slept in my room. Not for anything nefarious. I just held her the whole night through. I don't think I've ever slept so soundly in my life. Having her lie upon my chest is the most comfortable thing I've yet to experience. I long to turn around and have her lips on mine again.

"You ever heard the tale of Lady Stoneheart," Edric said ominously. Henric shook his head in confusion and I rolled me eyes. Of course he'd pick a supposedly scary tale halfway to the Wall.

"Edric, have you heard the tale of the Dragon and the Silver Tongues," I whispered in his ear. Edric shook his head. Sending his brown hair waving about. I grinned evilly.

"Once there was a black dragon with scales as sharp as knives. He was the size of a mountain and he breathed ice instead of fire. Freezing everything in his path. He came upon two men one winters day. One of black hair and one of brown. The men had silver tongues and spoke quicker than Lan the Clever himself.

They talked and talked. Spewing silver upon the dragon when he landed to hear them speak. The dragon listened but before long it became too much. These men spoke so longwindedly that everything they said irritated the dragon horribly.

When the dragon finally had enough, he opened his glorious jaws and swallowed the men. He chewed them up like lamb chops and gulped their delicious flesh. The silver tongued men never spoke again. Not even when the black dragon shat them out like the dung they are."

The men stared at me blankly as I grinned at them. I could make out the fear in their eyes distinctly. I've always been a fan of only speaking when you have something to say. Small talk makes my arse hurt. Especially from idiots thinking what they say holds any merit.

"I've never heard that one..," Edric said quietly, turning around. I just chuckled darkly.

"Of course, I just made it up. If you want it to remain a tale you'll be silent for the rest of this godforsaken journey," I hissed.

The sound of the horses is deafening amidst the silence.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

"Open the gate!"

I sit straight up as we come to the main gate of East Watch. My adrenaline is pumping something fierce. I'm not altogether sure if Jon and Ser Jorah have already wandered beyond the wall. If they have then we have a lonely walk ahead.

As we walk to the gate, the watchmen file through with their torches ablazing. One man looks out of place amongst them. He doesn't wear the same garb and his beard is grey. His hair also is salted with age. From the look on his face he doesn't know me either. Good.

"Who are you," the man said. Not in a rude way. I couldn't fault him for not knowing who I am.

"My name is Oerion Skuldafn of Wintersbane. I've come to assist Jon Snow in his mission. Though I must be too late," I said, eyes wandering over the men in front of me. They are watching the other two men with curiosity.

"These are Edric and Henric. They've come to assist as well, sir."

The two fools wave like little boys and I grind my teeth. The white haired man smiles at me in relief. He seems confident in my ability to intervene already. I straighten my posture and grin slightly. I've always been one to get a big head.

"Well lad, I am Ser Davos. Excuse the Fleabottom accent," he said reaching out a hand for me to shake. I shake and notice that his finger tips are missing. A thief or a traitor? "You have missed them by a few hours but seeing as you're from beyond the wall. You know how to track them down. Let's get you on your way. One of their men was sent back and they need all the men they can get."

The Watchmen look at me like they're incredulous and I narrow my eyes at them. They haven't moved an inch to let me pass. I don't have time for questions and suspicions right now. They'll just have to get over themselves. If they want this threat helped at all they'll let me pass.

"Look, I am from beyond the wall. No, I am not an untrustworthy Wildling. Now, may I get on with this so I can make sure your friends don't fucking die?"

The Commander looks at me wide eyed and nods. I think he remembers my sister and I requesting to come through a few years ago. He looks up at me like I'm a myth come to life. I'm not the Night King but I like to think that my looks make me godly. Surely if he saw me he wouldn't be able to forget such an experience.

"Of course, my lord. Follow me," he said, solemnly. I inclined my head toward him and gestured my two men forward.

"You ready to die boys," I called, laughing aloud. I could almost hear them gulp behind me. Such twats they are. I feel bad for them but I'll try to keep them safe.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Being beyond the wall again is like being at home. If only it were that easy. If only I could travel to my home. I might do just that if we get what we came for. Everything should still be there. Except for my people of course.

We follow the footsteps closely. There are at least eight sets of them. They hadn't been absolutely idiotic but eight men is still not enough in my mind. At least bring an army or a dragon. Unless you want to die that is.

"It's cold," Henric said from behind me. My teeth are grinding together again but I try to keep cool. I should've come alone.

"Yeah, my balls are about to fall off," Edric whined. He rubbed his crotch absentmindedly and I almost gagged.

I gripped my sword tightly and shook my head. "You won't need em if don't get out of here alive, Eddy."

He huffs and walks faster beside me. I don't think they believe that these undead are even real. If so then they're in for a rude and deadly awakening. You can't unsee the things we're about to see.

Finally, I can here they groaning of the dead. This sound is one that has haunted my nightmares since the first time I heard it. My hand grips my sword tighter and my adrenaline begins to rush. It's time.

"Do you hear that," Eddy said, shaking. I look at him stoically and nod my head. He is wide eyed and panting already.

"Get ready for what is about to happen. I don't want you two to die no matter how much I want to strangle you but please. Keep your heads. This is for the North," I hissed beneath my breath. They look frightened for a moment before nodding solemnly. They know it's time to man up. To ensure we all live.

"Follow my lead."

The sight that we come upon is much worse than I expected. My jaw drops at the sheer waves of dead that I see surrounding the island that the men stand upon. We will not be able to get through this horde without getting torn apart. I have to do something.

One of the men on the island falls into the sea of the dead and Jon looks on in horror. A horrible fury comes over me at seeing such a senseless death. They rip him to shreds like he's nothing. Somehow I catch Jon Snow's eye over the hordes of walkers. He looks completely stunned and lost.

I know what I have to do. I can feel it boiling over inside me now.

"Stay behind me," I yell over the screeching of the dead. My men rush to take cover behind me and I tap into the power.

It's like a lightning strike hits my body. Time slows down until everything is coming to a halt. I can feel the words on my tongue before I even say them. My father always said that the Thu'um is apart of the dragonborn. Somewhere deep inside the blood, it lingers ready to be used.

I can feel my eyes shift and gloss into blackness.

"Fus Ro Dah," I roared. It was like the clapping of thunder. The ground shook beneath us.

The effect is almost instant as time rushes back to catch up with everything. We watch as the dead fly away from us from the utter power of my voice. The effect is devasting to the walkers like father said it would be. My veins are aflame with power.

"How did you do that," Henric called as I start forward. I barely have the will to answer him through my euphoria.

"It doesn't matter. Make your way to the island. I'll flank."

They run past me frantically trying to get to the other men. I watch Jon and the gang standing as they were blown back from the residual force of the Thu'um. They are wide eyed and incredulous but start fighting again. They must accept that nothing is impossible.

Wights come rushing up beside me like they have a chance. I swing Soulsnare with power and precision. Cutting them down like the branches of a tree. One by one they fall. I continue my journey with power shooting through me.

As I make it to the island, everyone is taking down the dead. I look out over the frozen lake and see the Night King staring back at me. Blue eyes like stone. His flunkies behind him staring as well. My lips curl into a snarl at the challenge. I feel like he's taunting me. He knows what he did.

I'm yanked back when I begin to step down from the island. Just in time to be missed by a blaze of fiery glory. The screams of the dragons rattle my ears and I fall back as the heat waves rush at me.

I look up into the sky and see Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal wreaking havoc. They rain hellfire upon the Night Kings army and we watch as they are engulfed in glorious dragon flame. This is the first time that I feel kinship with the dragons. I can hear them speak their beautiful language like no other.

Yol Toor Shul, they shout. It's my time to show them that I am brethren.

Jon Snow grabs my arm to pull my back again and I give him a look. My eyes are black as night and he flinches when he sees them.

"My lord, you'll get burned if you wander out there," he said, looking at me like I'm crazy. I shook my head at him. He has such little faith.

"Jon, I am the Dragonborn," I said, simply. He stared at me wide eyed. I yank my arm away and jump down into the frozen lake, looking for foes to decimate.

Wights come rushing toward me fast and I steady myself. The flames of the Yol Toor Shul lick up my throat as I summon the shout. It feels like a welcoming heat rolling up my body. Ready to engulf all of my foes.

"Yol Toor Shul!"

Flames erupt from my throat like a waterfall of death. The wights fall fighting the flames in vain. I shower them in my Thu'um in a nonstop spray until there were none in my way. I stumble as Drogon lands on the island to cover the other men. His wise eye connects with mine unexpectedly and I stop in my tracks.

"Dovahzul," he screeches. Dragonblood. I incline my head to him in respect. A shout from above him catches my attention. Upon his back is a welcoming sight.

"Ori! Let's go," Lydia yelled from the back of the dragon. Her arms drape around Daenerys and she lookes frantic. My heart twinges at the sight of her. I didn't realize I missed her so much.

"Jon," Daenerys yells. Everyone was on besides Jon Snow and my two men. He was fighting off more wights to keep them away from Drogon but I don't see Edric and Henric. My heart drops but I have to keep going.

My face goes stony and I run to meet Jon. My legs work hard as my feet pound the ice. When I finally get to him he's just finished off a wight. I grab his shoulder and he jerks defensively before realizing who it is.

"Go get on Drogon. I'll stay back and keep them off you," I said, commandingly. Jon went to protest but was cut off by the sound of a dragon screaming.

We turn around just in time to see Viserion falling from the sky fast. Blood gushes from a wound in chest like a water spout. Drogon's mournful cries pierce our ears as his brother falls to the ground with a resounding crash. The ground shakes as he smashes through the ice.

I watch as he sinks into the icy water, giving up his fight. Fury becomes me in this moment. I feel as though a brother has just fallen in battle. Dragon blood seeps into the ice where he fell and I know what this means.

Jon and I turn toward the Night King. His minion hands him a spear. Most likely another dragon killing spear. Jon gasps sharply and proceeds to run back. He screams for them to leave but I stare the undead king down.

I turn around as the ground cracks however. Jon is nowhere to be seen and bubbles rise from the newly exposed lake. The people upon Drogon look at me frantically and I wave them off. Lydia is outraged as her love ducks down on Drogon, summoning him to fly. She yells for me but her voice is lost in the wind.

I run towards the water, almost falling due to Drogons weight shaking the ground as he takes flight. I have to save Jon and get the hell out of here if we both want to live. I won't put my sister through more loss and grief. I can't.

His sword lays upon the ice. Just as I'm about to jump into the water after him, he rises up from the water to grab it. I breathe a sigh of relief and grave his arm to pull him up. He is shivering heavily and I feel he'll succumb to the cold if we don't leave.

"We have to get out of here. Let me carry you," I said, no really asking. Jon shakes his head and stands. Hands barely able to hold his sword.

I growl and pull him behind me. We only make it to the exit path at the edge of the Moutan before the dead come in waves. We raise our swords in vain. It feels like the end is near. Like this is the last stand.

"I have to shout them away. Take your leave Jon Snow," I command. The dead are getting closer every second but Jon refuses to leave. I hate his honor.

"Wait, what is that?"

A light in the waves of dead. A flame taking out walkers as it moves through the horde. Finally, I can make out a horsemen as it gets closer. Breaking through the front line quickly. A man sits upon a horse. I can't make out his face.

I ready myself for a fight in case this is some sort of advanced wight. He rides up to us and hops off his horse fast, taking down his hood. He looks like a Stark through and through.

"Uncle Benjen," Jon stutters. My eyes widen at the revelation. This Benjen grabs Jon and pushes him onto the horse without effort. "Come with me."

Benjen motions for me to mount the horse as well and I do as I'm told reluctantly. He will surely die if he stays to fight alone. I feel horrible for taking his steed.

"There's no time," he said, slapping the horse on its rear end. The horse pads away quickly and we turn to watch him as we leave.

He fights valiantly at first. His ethereal flame taking out walker after walker but in the end he is lost to the horde. Jon moans in grief at the loss before succumbing to the cold. I wrap my arms around him to somehow distribute my warmth as we ride into the white.

I just hope that this was not in vain.