AN: Hey everyone glad you enjoyed the last chapter. As always I'm going to respond to your reviews here. If you don't see anything I likely sent a PM.
SoulSiphon: I'm pleased to know you like my story enough to make an exemption. I hope I don't disappoint.
Overseer Bishop: Glad to hear it and I will certainly try.
gw82: Well I'm glad you think so, I'm doing my best to make sure that's the case.
MVDB: Hopefully I managed to make the fights in this chapter epic. As for Tyrion, he will be in the story again as it comes closer to the end and he hasn't been idle while Daenerys has been busy. I appreciate the compliment and the honest criticism. I do work on dialogue but I know there are times where it can still feel kind of forced. I'm doing my best to work on that.
A Frozen Shadow: Yes let the battle begin. Glad you enjoyed the reunion between Arya and Jon because I enjoyed writing it.
jaufanfic: Happy you liked the chapter. Yeah Jon and Arya were so close it is hard to imagine him anything less than protective of her even years later. Hopefully you enjoy the fight.
Disclaimer: A song of ice and fire is the property of George R. R. Martin no copyright infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this story.
The fire reflected off of the glass armor of the Others as their wight army started to burn around them. But their enemy looked entirely unconcerned. Each of the pale white riders stepped up to the fire and merely gazed for a long moment. They raised their hands as one and it seemed to fall before them with all the ease of wheat before the sickle.
Their undead army started moving again and yet another wave of fire fell from the sky consuming more of the wights. And yet they came closer, and closer, and closer. The army of living men looked on in ever growing terror as the enemy seemed entirely unconcerned by the flames that did what they could to hold them at bay. What felt like an eternity passed for the fighters as they looked out at the dragon's fire before finally they were at the very precipice of battle. The dragons ceased their attacks when the army of the dead was within just sixty feet of the living. They instead took to attacking further back along the enemy's number.
Aerion looked to his right. The man there was older, maybe fifty years of age and had likely seen more than one fight in his years. Yet, there he was shaking in his boots and not just from the cold. He looked to his left and Arya was stood there with Blackfyre already drawn, her metal grey eyes reflecting the fires in the distance. There was a steely determination there and Aerion couldn't help but think once more even in the dire moment how impressive she was, She stands steadfast when lesser men hope to run.
The first wight to rush forward moved with a speed only those from the Wall knew to expect. It was fast, far faster than Aerion would have guessed. It seemed to be driven by the malice of its masters, seeking to see the light and life snuffed out from every man and woman in their way. It was within fifteen feet when it exploded in a mess of frozen flesh. Aerion looked further down the lines to see Melisandre stood there with outstretched arm. There wasn't any satisfaction in her eyes but it was clear she had been the one to do the deed.
Then they came like a flood upon the Northern lines, crashing into blade and shield with no regard for their own un-life or limb. And that is the difference between the living and the dead. They have no fear, just cold purpose.
The first to come upon Aerion was a woman, or at least what remained of her, a blunt blade in hand. It appeared that her hair was once red, though a large chunk of it had been pulled from her skull. The flesh of her left cheek was missing and her upper lip cleaved in two. She wasn't wearing anything save a shift. She probably died in her sleep. Her left arm was mangled; though, if the swing she aimed at Aerion's head was any indication, that wasn't any issue. Despite the clearly decaying state of the body in front of him, she, or it, attacked with a savageness and strength that would have killed him straightaway were he not able to adapt.
The blunt blade clanged against the black steel in his hand. It rattled his arm with a force comparable to what the Mountain had been capable of with his great sword. It shook the muscles in his arm and felt like it seemingly rattled the bones underneath. Aerion clenched his jaw as he made to counterattack.
Unhuman strength counted for only so much though. The wights had no sense of self preservation and no actual skill with the blades in their hands. They were merely disposable forces meant to wear down the resolve of the living before their masters could come and see it finished. As such, Aerion's next strike shattered the old blade in the woman's hand as easily as glass. The wight gave a yell of anger, not the pain he expected, as Serpent's Fang went all the way down to the wight's navel. Yet it continued attacking with the undamaged arm. Aerion ducked, straightened and then, with a powerful slash, he cut through cold, hardened flesh, and bone.
The wight's head lifted into the air only slightly before falling down onto the ground, the body following shortly after. Aerion was unaccustomed to a beheading without bloodshed but had little time to contemplate the idea as another wight took the first's place instantly. And so it went again, and again, one dead man or woman taking the place of the last without hesitation and always in the background were the dragons lighting up more of the endless dead, and the Others on their mounts looking on with cold calculation. Aerion was honestly surprised that the pale killers hadn't joined the fight as of yet. They must know that their presence in the fight would have us pressed far harder than we are now.
The Northern army was pushed back slowly but surely down the dragon made path behind as the darkness of night deepened around them. More than once, Aerion heard screams of pain and death as the hours pressed on. He was awestruck more than once as one of the men at his side fell to the ground dead only to rise again minutes later to fight the men they had been aiding in life. He truly didn't realize just how quick the process could be but cut down his fallen brother or sister in arms all the same when they tried to tear his head from his shoulders or rip his throat from his neck.
Six hours into the fight, Aerion could feel every muscle in his worn body screaming at him in protest as he kept hefting his blade to meet blow after blow. Thousands of the dead lay strewn about the field, fortunately most were from the Other's numbers. As they fell back the dragons would set them alight, ensuring those that fell would never have the opportunity to rise again. Aerion split another of the wights at the hip with a yell only to be surprised as nothing attacked him in the next moment. He looked around hoping to see Arya in the throng of exhausted fighters. About twenty yards to his left she used Blackfyre to sever the arm and then head of yet another wight.
Arya had a cut on her left cheek and her hair was sticking to her brow but Aerion was happy to see she didn't look any worse for the wear beyond. They caught one another's eye for the moment and smiled before Arya lips suddenly turned in to a scowl as she surveyed the area around them. The wights had stopped, seemingly without cause. Dragon's flame still lit areas of the battlefield and the blue eyes of wight and Other alike stared at the living in the darkness. Aerion felt a sense of dread overtake his mind. That is when he heard it for the first time that seemingly endless night, a scream of true terror. The Others had finally decided to join the fight.
Even the spiders they road moved with an unnatural grace. The beauty of the Others countered their apparent goals, yet here they were fighting the living for no other reason than to see the Long Night grip the land. Each of them carried blades of ice, unnatural ice colder than the winds that bit in the Winter and just as sharp as Valyrian steel. The wights came with them in yet another wave and the short reprieve ended.
Aerion cut his way through a dozen wights before he finally found himself face to face with one of the giant ice spiders. They were a pale blueish white, just like their riders, and as big as a snow bear. The creature lashed out at Aerion when it noticed him, attacking with its deadly pincers. He avoided the attack agilely and was forced to bring his sword up to avoid a slash from the White Walker. He prayed in that moment to every god he could think of that his blade would withstand the cursed ice. It happened in slow motion before his eyes, the translucent ice met the black steel and… both held. This seemed to take the White Walker by surprise. By this point they had more than enough experience with Valyrian steel thanks to Jon but those burning blue eyes had never encountered anything like Aerion's blade before.
Taking his opportunity, Aerion wrenched the blade back back, turned it over in his hand in one deft movement, and drove the blade tip first into the head of the ice spider. The massive arachnid staggered for a moment, its eight legs not working in proper coordination before toppling over with a loud thud. The impact threw what snow was on the ground beneath the creature up into the air. The eight legs twitched as they reflexively pulled in toward the spider's lifeless husk. Aerion heaved a loud sigh happy that Talo's invention had passed its most important test. Well, good to know that I'm not going to have to resort to a dagger.
Aerion was forced to pull his attention from the dead spider and fallen White Walker as more of the wights attacked from his left. A quick slash that split one of the wights in two, a stab up and through the jaw of a second, another slash that removed a head and they were quickly dispatched. Returning his attention to the fallen Other, he could see the iridescent white of the his enemy's hair rising from the other side of the spider's corpse. It turned to face Aerion and burning blue bore into amethyst purple. It would be foolish not to be afraid, and Aerion truly was, but he let it drive him that much harder. I refuse to die here in the cold.
There were no cries of rage, exultations or even grunts, as their blades cut through the air, just the whistling of wind and the clang of unnatural ice on steel. Aerion realized something immediately as they met. The wights took their strength from their masters and something told him that they wouldn't be as unskilled with their weapons. He was of course right, his opponent movde to stab him with the tip of his icy blade not a moment after the first strike was blocked. Aerion brought the Fang up and parried the blow flowing from there into a slash at the White Walker's armored leg. With a quick lift of its leg, the White Walker avoided Aerion's attack before bring its blade down in a vertical line meant for his collar bone.
Aerion brought the black blade up to block the blow. The force of the strike caused his elbow to crack involuntary and every knuckle in his hand to turn white within his gauntlet as his grip tightened. A grunt of pained exertion escaped Aerion's lips. They held like that for a moment caught in a blade lock. Aerion ended it by angling his blade down and away from his right side as the White Walker attempted to apply more pressure.
The white warrior wasn't expecting that as it stumbled forward briefly though righted itself before Aerion had the opportunity to capitalize. They stared at each other for but a second before they joined in blades again. As the fight went on Aerion realized just how clever the Others had been in their planning. They tried to exhaust us before coming in for the final kill. He didn't waste much time on the thought as he took a quick step backward to avoid a horizontal swipe from the White Walker in front of him. It overreached and with a quick movement Aerion dragged black steel across white skin. It was with that attack Aerion dragged the first noise out of his opponent. He wasn't exactly sure how to describe it, it was deep but sounded of cracking ice.
The seemingly disinterested expression that had been on the Other's face throughout the fight changed then; there was a slight narrowing of the eyes, and its lips thinned minutely. This more than anything surprised Aerion. Hmmm it would appear that not only can they experience surprise but anger as well.
Aerion stepped back only to be met with an onslaught of fierce blows, each of which he sidestepped, parried or deflected without fail. His arms burned and his head felt lighter than air but he fought. The White Walker attempted to strike at Aerion's ribs with a downward stab. He countered with a quick upward parry that left the Other's entire torso exposed. In one smooth motion Aerion thrust forward, the black steel pierced through the translucent armor, cold white flesh and finally out the back without much struggle. The only indication of the Other's death was a barely noticeable widening of the eyes before it dissolved before him instantly. Its flesh and bones melted away leaving nothing but an icy puddle where it once stood.
He didn't have the opportunity to marvel at his victory as yet another group of the wights fell upon him. Compared to the skill of his previous opponent, the wights were nothing. Their only threat coming from their number, one of the armed wights managed to nick his shoulder lightly but Aerion suffered no significant injury from the dead.
Over the next two hours of battle the weather seemed to take on a mind of its own. Snows poured out of the sky to aid the Others in their fight. More than once Aerion saw one of his fellow fighters slip on the slick, freshly fallen snow only to be mauled by a wight. They continued falling back further and further until they reached the start of the path they had traveled there by.
For nine hours they fought, the only blood marring the ground coming from the living. Aerion couldn't help but note that it was quite the odd battlefield in that way. There weren't the usual smells of battle, the cold keeping most of them at bay.
He found himself fighting another of the ice clad leaders of the undead army. Unlike the previous one he fought, this White Walker used a spear made with a weirwood shaft yet still tipped with the strange ice common to their kind. Aerion found himself constantly held back, unable to draw close enough to actually make a killing blow. He didn't notice the wight approaching him from the rear but he did see out of the corner of his eye as a black shadow sped to intercept it and the tearing of flesh that followed.
Aerion avoided another thrust from the White Walker, this one aimed toward his feet. Aerion pinned the spear there and brought Serpent's Fang down in a quick slash breaking the weirwood shaft with a loud crack. The White Walker attempted to deflect Aerion's next attack with the broken shaft of the spear but was to slow. Aerion's slash cut through the White Walker's neck and it dissolved into a puddle at his feet just like the last and every other before since the Others joined the battle . He turned to look behind him to find Nymeria destroying the wight that dared to attack him from behind. He smiled tiredly at the massive wolf, more than a little appreciative of her help.
As he looked, around he noticed that the weather seemed to be breaking and there was a faint light on the eastern horizon. With that in mind he found it unsurprising that the battle seemed to be coming to an end. The wights that had been sitting along the ridge upon the far end of the battle had pulled back. He could see no more ice spiders in the field and what few of the enemy remained were being cut down even as he watched. We survived the night. I suppose we're fortunate this wasn't to be a dark day; otherwise, we would be running for our lives with the dead on our heels.
There were thousands of dead littered across the battlefield. They will need to be burned before we start heading south. Aerion approached Nymeria who was sitting on her haunches next to her last kill looking at him expectantly. He reached behind her ear and began scratching lightly. The direwolf leaned her head in appreciatively.
"Thank you Nymeria." The direwolf yipped in response, "Now how about we go and find Arya?" She was more than happy to go and find her human and quickly started making her way through the battlefield. As they were walking the dragons swooped overhead before landing in the mass of people.
Daenerys and Jon both climbed from their dragon's backs looking tired from the long fight even if they were up in the air away from the main battle. Melisandre stood just a little way away from where they landed, for the first time looking less than pristine. Her usually well-kept hair was a tangle and her red silk robe torn at the hem and sleeves in more than one place. Still she looks just as calm as ever.
Aerion paid them little mind as he continued to follow Nymeria. He wasn't sure when exactly they had been properly separated but he hadn't actually seen Arya in quite some time. A short walk later he found her sitting on the ground amid dozens of corpses. She looked no worse than she had the last time he saw her during the battle as far as he could tell. He sat down beside her, she didn't even look at him instead just leaning into his side tiredly. He brought his left hand up to rest upon her shoulder and squeezed her tighter to his side. The simple gesture made both of them feel much less weary. Arya mumbled against his chest, "How many do you think we lost?"
Aerion rested his head against hers and whispered back, "I'm not sure, probably 5,000. Until the Others actually decided to take part in the battle I would have said half that."
Arya nodded, "I'd say we lost more in the last two hours than we did in the first seven." Aerion hummed his agreement as they fell into a comfortable silence for what little time they could manage it as Nymeria laid down close to their feet. They didn't have the opportunity to relax long as they heard the commotion around them. They opened their eyes to see men preparing to leave.
Daenerys' voice rang out over the din of movement, "Leave the dead where they lay. We make our way south immediately. Hopefully we will be able to put some good distance between ourselves and the enemy." The hope was this would be there only fight before reaching Winterfell.
The pair stood on tired legs. They both sheathed their weapons though Arya hesitated a moment with her wolf dagger, "I imagine you found out just how well these worked."
"More than once, the Other I fought first was quite surprised to say the least." Aerion actually chuckled out the last bit.
Arya guffawed rather loudly, "I know what you mean, the same happened to me." This sent them both into a fit of laughter. They didn't notice Jon just a short distance in front of them staring at them like they had gone mad.
"What in the hells are you two laughing at?" He asked sternly. Clearly he misinterpreted their mirth after such an intense battle.
Arya and Aerion looked at him, amusement still shining in their eyes, "The look of surprise that can show upon one of the Others' faces when something happens they weren't expecting."
They were surprised to see Jon actually smile widely, clear understanding replacing his previous irritation, "I know the same thing happened the first I killed one of the fuckers with Longclaw." He patted the wolf's head pommel at his side. All three looked at each other for a brief moment before the laughter started once again.
As they started walking Aerion noticed Arya wince, "What happened?" He asked stopping to look at her properly.
Arya shook her head, "Nothing really, one of the wights gripped my ankle from the ground, caused me to misstep. I twisted my ankle, hard." She made to walk again, "I'll be fine though." She winced again.
Aerion stepped in front of her and grasped her shoulder lightly, forcing her to look at him. He turned his back to her and leaned down, he looked back at her only to see her glaring back at him. "I will not be carried Aerion."
His smile stayed firmly affixed on his face, "We might be fighting again tonight. I'd prefer you are as fresh as possible should that happen." Then he shrugged his shoulders slightly, "Besides, you've helped heal enough of my injuries, let me help you with this one."
"You are already tired from the fight. What good will you be if we have to fight tonight should you carry me all day?" She replied quickly.
Aerion smirked, "You aren't heavy enough for that to be an issue Arya, so please let me do this."
She continued to stare at him defiantly until finally with a roll of her eyes she took one step closer to him. Aerion reached his hands back toward her thighs and grasped them. Arya lifted her legs to wrap around his torso and brought her hands up to his shoulders. Even nearing exhaustion Aerion had no issue lifting her lithe form. Jon watched the whole thing with a straight face but as Aerion stood he gave a short nod of approval, one that was returned promptly.
The army was moving south just half an hour after the battle ended. Daenerys and Jon took to the air once again, setting alight every square inch of the battlefield to ensure the Others couldn't return to raise the fallen dead. The scent of burning flesh could be smelled by every member of the army.
As they walked Aerion and Arya learned exactly how many had been lost in the fighting. 4,500 of the men and women who fought in the battle were now nothing more than ash behind them. Aerion guessed that they had killed more than five times that many wights. They were unskilled fighters after all and the dragons were an invaluable weapon.
As they were walking with Jon again they were approached by Grenn, he told them that their friend Pyp died when the Others came, took one of their icy blades straight through the heart. Jon was upset to say the least hearing that one of his oldest friends had died. He walked alone for a time and Arya was pleased to see once she landed, as the path ahead had been thoroughly cleared, Daenerys joined him. The Queen seemed to pull him from his brief period of moroseness, getting more than one smile from him as they talked.
Among the other notable losses, Gerrick Kingsblood was surrounded by a group of wights and gouged to death. Ser Godry Farring the Giantslayer, and one of Selyse Baratheon's men, was trampled and eaten by one of the giant ice spiders. Tormund Giantsbane was now Tormund one hand, though he cared little after losing his youngest son in the fight. Wun Wun the giant suffered dozens of cuts but managed to fight on nonetheless. Aerion couldn't help but be glad there weren't more giants in the world lest the Others turn them into their thrall
Aerion carried Arya throughout the entirety of the early morning and into the late afternoon before she finally forced him to let her down. She gave him a peck on the cheek as she stepped on her leg gingerly for the first few steps before correcting it easily, "Thank you, it feels much better now." Aerion just smiled as they continued on through the cold and snow around them.
When Jon took to Viserion's back to clear the path further ahead, Daenerys joined them. The Queen was wearing her armor, beautiful pieces that made her look much like the history books described Rhaenys or Visenya during the conquest. Like everyone else, save the Red Priestess, the Queen's eyes had a noticeable fatigue to them. That isn't likely to change anytime soon. We are going to be marching for the rest of today and probably tomorrow as well before taking rest.
Arya gave the Queen a small teasing smile and Aerion immediately knew what was coming, "So did you enjoy your time with my brother?"
Daenerys turned and gave the younger woman a warning look, "I thought he was your cousin Arya?"
"In blood, maybe but I was raised with him as my brother and that is how I shall always see him. Now, you are avoiding the question." Arya prodded without any hint of subtlety. Aerion had to force himself not to laugh at her antics. Even when we're running for our lives from death itself she finds time to tease people.
However, Daenerys wasn't smiling instead she gave Arya a stiff nod, "I did, in fact, enjoy my time with Lord Jon, at least as far as one can enjoy their time when their company is grieving. He told me stories of his former black brothers. Specifically, those about Pyp, the one he lost during the battle. I did what I could to comfort him, and I believe I managed to help."
Arya snorted, "Lord Jon? Wouldn't it be Prince Jon? And somehow I doubt that is what he asked you to call him, though I suppose he will have to get used to that in future." She leaned toward Aerion so that only he could here, "Or perhaps something else."
Daenerys didn't notice the little exchange as she looked ahead rigidly. They both noted the faint flush of her cheeks that hadn't been there before despite the cold, "Yes well, you are right of course Arya. Your brother did not ask for me to call him Lord Jon and Prince would be the proper title."
Arya chuckled, "Thank you for acknowledging that, your Grace," Arya paused and the teasing left her tone, "Thank you for helping my brother through his struggles. He learned well from our father and I can guarantee that he knew every man under his command. Losing any of them would not be easy on him and I know it must have been even worse as it was one of his closer friends and Jon always had a tendency toward brooding in his weaker moments anyway."
Daenerys quirked an eyebrow, "Truly, he has been far from broody in my presence. I would go so far as to say I have had some of my most pleasant conversations in a very long while in just these past few days."
Both Arya and Aerion gave her a look that had the woman who had lost a husband, brought dragons back into the world, taken control of a khalasar, conquered Slaver's Bay, retaken the Iron Throne blush as though she was a maid in her wedding bed. They both snickered at her reaction before Aerion spoke up, "Really Daenerys, I wonder why your conversations with Jon have been nothing but some of your most pleasant conversations?" While it was posed as a question Aerion's tone betrayed his true meaning.
Daenerys turned away from them yet again, "I don't know what you're implying."
Arya laughed and it almost turned into a mad cackle at the sheer absurdity of the Queen's claim, "Oh so you don't realize that we are implying that you are quite taken with my brother, just as he is with you. Hence the reason you are happier in his presence than either Aerion or I have seen you." This was saying something considering Daenerys enjoyed her champions' company as much or more than any she knew. "And let us not forget I can say much the same for my brother."
Daenerys looked almost panicked for a moment before sighing in obvious defeat, "He is my nephew."
They both snickered and she looked at them with heat in her eyes. They waved their hands to forestall her anger, "We weren't laughing at your statement, merely at the fact it is exactly the same argument that left Jon's mouth when we broached the topic with him the day you met." Aerion told her quickly.
"You discussed this with Jon?" Her voice took on a curiosity and urgency that both resisted the urge to snicker at once again.
"Yes," Arya responded after a moment of controlling herself, "And I will tell you the same thing that I told him. In blood you may be aunt and nephew but you were not raised that way. He is no more family to you than your poor niece Rhaenys."
Both were expecting the same argument from Daenerys as they had gotten from Jon but it didn't come, "I would look like a hypocrite," there was almost a note of resignation in Daenerys' voice that neither of the pair liked, "I refused Aegon on the premise that he was my nephew."
"You refused Aegon because of more than your reluctance to continue the Targaryen tradition." Arya began her counter argument, "At the time, he was nothing more than an ambitious little bastard who saw you as a means to gaining the throne and wanted everyone who had even committed an imagined slight against your family dead." Arya paused and took a deep breath, "While I don't know what will come of you and Jon, I can say this much, he is not the sort to care about you for anything more than you. He could care less that you are a Queen or the Mother of Dragons but he enjoys your company that much is obvious."
Daenerys didn't speak for a long time, simply taking in what Arya and Aerion had to say on the matter. Finally when she spoke there was a fondness in her voice neither had heard before, "I have never found myself caring for a man with such ease. I loved Drogo but it wasn't easy at first. I was sold to him and as such I felt like his property." Daenerys' eyes glazed over and Aerion couldn't help but note that he had seen that look before. It's the same one I get when I'm thinking fondly of Arya. He would have smiled if he knew that Arya's thoughts mirrored his on the subject.
"He listens and I can see in his eyes that he actually wants to hear what I have to say because I'm saying it, not just because I am who I am. We have quite a bit in common despite the differences in how we were raised. And he has this shy smile but this extreme confidence when in a situation where he needs to command other's respect." A small smile cut across her face, "He is also quite handsome."
Arya faked gagging but both Daenerys and Aerion could tell it was forced at least a little bit, "That is my brother Daenerys, I would kindly ask you not to talk about his handsomeness."
Daenerys replied with a snicker, "Please, I have no issue listening to you talk about Aerion."
Aerion gave Arya a quick look as she spluttered her response, "That was once your Grace and he is not your brother."
Daenerys gave an innocent smile, "Fair enough, but that doesn't change the fact that you were happy to talk about his sculpted abs and chiseled chest." Aerion gave Arya a wink that caused a faint blush to appear on her cheeks even as she smiled.
The Queen let them have their little moment before regaining their attention, "Thank you for this conversation." She grimaced for a moment, "I will admit that while I have enjoyed the brief time I have spent with Jon so far I have been hesitance. That will not be the case from now on." She looked up to the sun above them, "Now I believe I should return to Drogon. Jon rode ahead to check on the women and children, I shall take care of our own path." They each bid the Queen farewell before she made her way toward the black dragon that was walking calmly along with the army just a hundred yards away.
Weary, fatigued, and exhausted: There were many words that could be used to describe her current state but any of them would have been accurate. A week of marching through the wet snow, even with the aid of the dragons, was tiring. Add that to the fact they took only three hours rest each night, and every muscle in her body throbbed. And still it isn't over.
Though, they hoped to reach Winterfell within the next couple of hours. According to Daenerys the non-combatants, thanks to the horses, had reached the North's great fortress two days prior and were making camp there. They would only stay two days longer for rest before heading further south.
As for the fighters, they were optimistic they would reach Winterfell without another encounter with the Others. They had marched constantly and certainly put a good deal of distance between themselves and the enemy but the days had been darker and the sun harder to discern in the afternoon sky, so there was some doubt. Daenerys and Jon both feared that the Others would be able to march both day and night.
While they should have put a good three days between them and the enemy they couldn't be sure with the weather. Not to mention that the enemy could march faster and tirelessly. The dead need not rest. Always those in the rear ranks were looking over their shoulder fearfully waiting for blue eyes to shine in the clouded darkness.
Like almost the entire rest of the force moving south, Arya and Aerion walked silently along. They were close together, Aerion's arm around her shoulder, in the hopes of keeping warmer. The odd cough would break the ever present sound of cracking snow, or overhead beating of wings but there was no happy banter or laughter to be heard. Then again now is not exactly the time to be jovial.
Daenerys had informed them that they expected they would need to hold Winterfell against the Others for at least three days. The rest of the Queen's army should join them by then but there were no guarantees. Between the men sent with the civilians and those who survived the first battle, there was no way they could be housed in Winterfell comfortably so Daenerys decided to ask men to volunteer to hold the castle. Obviously, for some the decision was easy but many more were reluctant. Most of the men preferred a continued journey south until they reached Dorne, where the sun still held some warmth.
What few brothers of the Night's Watch remained, volunteered immediately. Even now, when they have lost nearly everything, they hold to the last of their vows. Melisandre did the same and Selyse Baratheon's men followed suit soon after. Aerion and Arya offered their services of course, not that Daenerys had any belief they would choose differently. For Arya, she simply refused to let the defense of Winterfell take place without a Stark there to see it done. Most of the 2,000 volunteers turned out to be wildlings with a deep respect for Jon and Tormund. The Karstark men were reluctant to volunteer though there were probably 600 men from the Umbers willing to hold the castle.
It was only a few hours later that it finally became visible even through the snowfall maybe a quarter of a mile away. Arya couldn't help the slight lift in her heart at seeing the outer walls and the round towers that stood above them within. The last quarter mile took the remaining 12,500 men and women nearly half an hour as the wind seemed to beat at them harder than ever but they pressed on.
Sam was waiting for them as they entered the courtyard but Arya paid him little mind. Instead, she looked around wide-eyed, trying to take in every detail of her childhood home again as though it might disappear in the next moment. It's been over six years since I was last here and even after what that bastard did to it, this is still the Stark's place. The stones might be newer but it makes no difference.
She held her gaze quite a while longer on the tower where Jaime Lannister pushed Bran in the hopes he wouldn't be able to reveal the Lannister twin's incestuous secret. So many things might be different if he had never fallen. She noticed Aerion looking at her fondly out of the corner of her eye and she gave a smile. Things are what they are and while I will never forget, I will be thankful for the good things that have happened as a result.
Arya addressed Sam who was currently talking to Jon, "Please ensure that we are found a room, it doesn't need to be anything bigger than what we had at Last Hearth." Sam nodded his head quickly. Arya spared him a quick nod in return before grabbing Aerion's hand and dragging him through the courtyard and toward one of the inner gates. A short walk later and Arya was leading him into the godswood. She stopped at the very edge and took a deep breath. The air was warmer here and the snow lighter. Now, now I am truly home.
There was a light crunch beneath their feet as she continued to pull Aerion along behind her. He didn't even think to struggle just following her quick strides with long ones of his own. When finally they reached the Heart tree, Arya released her hold on his hand and stepped forward.
It looked exactly as she remembered. For all of the harm that has befallen us Stark's this place remains the same. The Heart tree's carved face still leaked its sap as it looked out unblinkingly on the world. Its red leaves, like hands, still clung to the branches and swayed slightly in the breeze. The wind whispered in the grove and if she didn't know any better she would think the old sentinel actually spoke to her.
Arya cleared snow from the stone just next to the pond upon which her father once sat. He would always bring Ice here after an execution for cleaning. Aerion sat down beside her a brief moment later. She looked to him and found that he was looking around the godswood in quiet appreciation. He felt her gaze and turned to her with a small smile on his face, "This place is beautiful, serene. It is the very picture of northerner beauty." His eyes roamed over her for a quick second before returning to the wood around them.
Arya gave him a faint smile and turned to look at the carved face of the Heart tree, "You are right." She reached out one her left hand out and ran it along the pale wood, "I always felt more at home here than I did anywhere else in Winterfell. I've told you about how I used to eavesdrop on my father unintentionally," Aerion just nodded, "He always sat just here when he would talk to them."
They didn't speak for a very long time, instead just embracing each other. Arya had cried seeing Sansa again, and Rickon, not Jon because Jon was never lost. But being here made her just as happy as finding her family again. So she let a single tear of happiness fall down her cheek. When finally their peaceful quiet was interrupted, it was by the gentle crunch of snow beneath feet.
A few moments later Jon came into view, "I thought I would find you here." She couldn't help but notice Jon looked at the godswood with the same fondness she did.
"Was there a reason you came looking for me Jon?" Arya wasn't really upset but she would prefer spending more time in the wood if she could.
Jon's face darkened, "Yes the Queen requests our presence."
Arya sighed in mild frustration before standing, "Has something happened?"
Jon grimaced, "We have found out why the Others didn't catch us on our southern journey." There was obvious displeasure in his voice and something told Arya she wasn't going to like the explanation.
Together, the three of them made their way toward the Great Hall where Daenerys was waiting for them with Melisandre, Hothor Umber and Axel Florent, among others. The Queen paid them little mind though as she examined a map of the North yet again. Arya noticed that she was leaning over the table in one of her usual silk dresses and exposing a fair bit more skin than the average Northerner was accustomed to. She looked to Jon and forced herself to repress the giggle that threatened to force its way from her body. His eyes were firmly planted on the same exposed stretch of flesh as she had noticed.
Aerion must have noticed the same thing as he 'accidentally' bumped into Jon causing his grey eyes to raise from the admittedly pleasant sight to rest on Dany's still downturned head. Arya cleared her throat to gain the Queen's attention. She straightened slowly before finally snapping her eyes in their direction.
"You wanted to see us your Grace?" Arya asked evenly.
"Yes, I did. The lack of any further conflict on our march here was not mere luck. While there is a chance we would have managed arriving without any further fight regardless of this news it certainly explains things more clearly." Daenerys paused taking a deep breath before continuing, "They went east and attacked Karhold. A rider just arrived to tell us of the massacre there." Alys Karstark standing with her husband Sigorn looked distraught at the news.
"Where are they now?" Aerion asked from her side.
Daenerys shook her head in frustration, "We can't know for sure, but I imagine they are somewhere near the Dreadfort by now. They will kill any in the castle and then make their way here. I shall fly out and look along that path to see if I might find them in the snows."
Arya contemplated the new information for a long moment, "There is good and bad news in this." More than one of her fellow northerners turned to glare at her, Alys Karstark most of all. Arya did not feel the need to placate them. However, for every unfriendly look she received more than one agreeable gesture toward her statement.
Jon spoke up, "That was our thinking as well." He pointed to the map, "According to the rider, the Others attacked Karhold three days ago. Assuming they can now travel both day and night, they should reach the Dreadfort tomorrow. That means we have another three or four days before they arrive here." Jon pulled back from the map, "Had they followed us directly we would either be making quick preparation here or fighting in the snow and ice hoping to outlast them long enough for reinforcements to arrive."
Daenerys continued from there, "Now our forces from the south have an extra day to arrive and the small folk here have an extra day to travel south without fear of attack."
"Who's to say they don't simply forgo Winterfell and pursue the people fleeing south?" Axel Florent all but demanded.
Jon responded, "The Others cannot ignore Winterfell the way they might have Last Hearth, it is the strongest Castle in the North and a symbol of our resilience."
Daenerys addressed the Lord as well, "Besides ,we are sending the bulk of the fighting men south with them. Add to that they will reach the northward bound reinforcements within two days of departing here and you understand the decision even better." Daenerys responded easily.
There was an annoyed huff from Alys, "You make it all sound so simple but thousands of Northerners died at Karhold and more will die at the Dreadfort," Arya had the urge to roll her eyes at calling what remained of the Boltons in the North anything but traitors but refrained as Alys continued, "Do their lives mean nothing to you?"
Daenerys glared at the woman who averted her gaze realizing just how far out of turn she had spoken, "I will ignore your insult Lady Thenn because you have just learned that the people you grew up with in Karhold are likely dead. But to answer your question, I care for every life lost, both for the lives themselves and for what they mean to our enemy. This is war, I cannot let my sympathy and grief blind me when there are pressing decisions that need to be made." Alys could only nod her head shamefaced.
"Now," Daenerys addressed everyone present again, "The women and children have the rest of today and tomorrow before they and the bulk of the men begin marching south again." Giving her attention to Hothor Umber she continued, "The fighting men who travel with you will continue south until you reach the infantry reinforcements. At that point they will join up and march back north as the women and children will no longer have real need of protection." Hothor looked less than happy with the decision but nodded his assent anyway.
"Good," Daenerys started walking from the room gesturing for Jon to follow in the process, "I would recommend everyone find somewhere to lay their heads and rest while they have the opportunity."
Aerion and Arya took the advice and found the room that Sam had prepared for them. It was smaller, though not a cleaned out closet as it had been at Last Hearth. They stripped down to their underclothes quickly climbed beneath the furs atop the featherbed and fell asleep almost instantly. A week's worth of bad sleep catching up with them all at once.
Arya was standing atop the ramparts of Winterfell looking out to the south where the Kingsroad was actually visible thanks to dragon's fire. They had arrived at her childhood home two days ago and the women and children had just hours ago departed with their 18,500 northern and wildling soldiers to protect them. Aerion had gone off to spar for a time with Grenn and Sigorn; he had done much the same the day before. They were not up to the standard of Loras or Garlan but they were good nonetheless and he did what he could to improve their fighting.
As the last of the travelers disappeared over the hills to the south of Winterfell Arya turned away from the expanse of white and started walking down the stairs back into the courtyard. She wasn't walking aimlessly, instead she made her way through the snow until she reached a door she knew would lead down into a darkness filled with warm air and the bones of the dead. She pulled a torch from the wall and started her descent.
The crypts housed every Stark dating back to the Kings' of Winter but most of those faces had long since broken and their swords turning to nothing more than rust red dust years ago. As she moved further through the crypt the faces became clearer, their features discernable.
At the end, there was a light and a figure, white direwolf at his side, and Arya honestly should have expected him to be here. She walked slowly not wanting to intrude until finally she passed the statues of her Grandfather Rickard and Uncle Brandon. Jon didn't spare her a glance though she was quite sure that he noticed her presence by this point.
He was staring unabashedly at Lyanna's face, taking in every line, as wetness formed in the corners of his eyes. Arya looked at her aunt's face in silence and for the first time in her life actually understood the similarities between her and the woman Robert wanted and Rhaegar loved.
She looked further down the crypt and couldn't help the anger that rose in her stomach at the emptiness. There was never a Stark who belonged here more than Eddard and yet his bones are probably somewhere in the depths of Blackwater Bay far from the North where they belong.
Jon's voice broke the silence, "He will be placed here someday. The Reeds keep his bones protected at Greywater Watch until all of these wars have ended." Arya didn't feel the need to ask how he guessed her thoughts.
Instead she decided to focus on what he actually said as fixed her gaze on Jon's face completely flummoxed, "Are you saying they have father's bones?"
He continued to look at Lyanna's stone visage but responded to her question all the same, "Yes, Tyrion Lannister returned them to your mother as an act of good faith. She had them sent north but the Boltons took the North before the remains could reach Winterfell and when the man carrying them stopped at Greywater Watch, Lord Reed kept them there."
She felt a little lighter at the news and silence reigned again for a time before Jon finally spoke, "I don't know whether I should be angry at father for what he did or not." The internal conflict was evident in his voice, "I spent my entire life thinking I was the son of some whore that father chose to fuck because he might have died the next day." Finally Jon looked at her almost pleadingly obviously hoping she could sooth his troubled mind.
Arya could understand the frustration. Bastard's were looked down upon, everyone knew that but to be the bastard of a Great House and the most honorable lord in all the kingdoms came with certain views that made it all the more difficult. And mother did nothing to make his plight any easier. "You said yourself that you were glad that your mother's last act before death was keeping you safe, why be angry with father for doing as she asked?"
"He didn't have to lie to me." Jon said heatedly, "I understand why he lied to Catelyn, and Robert and the entire fucking realm for that matter but he should have told me."
"And what would you have done differently?" Arya asked her voice taking on a slight edge. "Would you have sought the throne with nothing more than a bastard name? In your childish innocence would you have told the wrong person you were the child of Lyanna and Rhaegar and endangered not just yourself but father as well?" Her voice took on a gentler tone, "He loved you Jon, he cared for you the same way he would have were you his own son, and he did what he thought was best to keep you safe. Can you really blame him for that?"
Jon took a shuddering breath and tears fell freely down his cheeks, a rare sight. He never thought he could show any kind of weakness given his position. "No… no I can't." Jon responded shakily, "Had he done things differently I likely would have died the same way that Rhaenys and the baby most believed was Aegon did." Jon hugged Arya close to him, "Thank you, I knew you were right but I needed to hear somebody else say it."
Arya returned the hug tightly, "I understand Jon, you took the news incredibly well in my opinion but you were bound to have some conflicting feelings about everything." Arya looked to Lyanna's statue beside them, "Your mother would be proud of all you have done."
Jon finally pulled back fully from the hug, "I wish I had known her. Every story I've heard of her is suddenly all the more important to me. Every time father would talk of his wild, willful sister who could ride a horse better than any man in the North he was actually talking about my mother. I like to think he might have told more of those stories when I was around to hear them." Arya couldn't say for sure but she would let Jon think just that if it made things easier. Though in all honesty, it wouldn't surprise me if father did just that.
Jon smirked after a moment, "Remember the time we came in from the yard when you were five, covered in mud after you skipped your lessons, and your mother started yelling at you." Arya smiled at the memory.
"Of course, I ignored her yelling, and took her by complete surprise by apologizing… and then promptly hugging her in that light blue dress. The thing was covered in mud. Of course I then proceeded to do the exact same thing to Sansa."
They both started laughing soundlessly. Between gasps Arya continued, "And she screamed for hours about the stains I left."
Jon heaved a great sigh, "Oh, your mother could have spit dragon's fire that day she was so mad at me but it was just too funny."
"You never did mention that I was the one who found you in the yard not the other way around."
Jon shrugged, "She wouldn't have believed me." He reached over to ruffle her hair though she threw his hand off immediately afterward, "Besides, how could I have told on my adorable little sister." They both chuckled again as they made their way out of the crypts. They spent the next few hours merely talking about their fond childhood memories.
As they sat to eat dinner later that night Jon said something Arya definitely wasn't expecting, "I approve of Aerion you know." Then a small smirk broke across his face, "Not that it would matter much to you anyway."
Arya hummed, "No you're right I probably wouldn't care if you didn't approve of him or not but I am pleased that you do. He has become very important to me and I mean to keep him."
"Mean to keep who?" Aerion said from just over her shoulder.
She turned with a smile on her lips, "Well you of course." They shared a quick kiss as he sat down to join them. They talked briefly of his time in the yard.
Daenerys entered a few minutes later looking weary. She sat down next to Jon and the pair shared a small smile, "I have just returned from the south." She began as she started putting food on her plate. Another thing she does that I could never imagine Cersei Lannister doing when she was Queen.
"I went far enough to speak with Aegon, the cavalry should be here within three days and will likely cross paths with those headed south tomorrow or early the following day." She sighed tiredly, "I also flew to the northeast hoping to find out how long until our enemy arrives."
"And?" Arya asked expectantly.
"They will likely be here tomorrow afternoon, but there number seems limitless. They just stretch on and on into the snow and darkness." She shook her head, "I had Drogon unleash as much fire as I could to slow them but it did little so decided to return here lest I exhaust him."
Jon spoke up, "Well then, we will position more men along the walls starting early tomorrow morning. We have oil to light our arrows afire and five hundred dragonglass tipped arrows."
Arya looked to Jon, "Do you think there is any chance they will be able to find one of the secret entrances into the castle we once found."
Jon looked contemplative for a long moment, "Better safe than sorry. We will collapse the entrances tonight. Wun Wun should be able to manage that easily enough." They spent another hour around the table eating as various men and women came and went. Most everyone in the castle took to bed early that night, knowing it would be their last moment of rest for at least the next twenty-four hours.
Arya and Aerion spent more than an hour the way they usually did the day before a large battle, in the throes of passion as they made sure they remembered what could be their last day alive.
They held the first day and night without problem. The Others seemed tentative in their attack, almost as though they were trying to determine the strength of the defenders. The wights came in waves as expected but never en mass the way they expected. As such they were held at bay by the multitude of fire arrows that left the wall. The defenders lost only 150 men that first day while the second day they were granted a reprieve until the night as the sun shone brighter than it had over the past week.
Arya was standing along the wall with a thousand other defenders, looking out at the snow filled darkness. The sun had set once again behind the clouds and the burning eyes of the wights could be seen only two hundred feet from the walls. They were waiting, even as the dragons laid fire down on their lines though only on the far side of the walls. Daenerys and Jon certainly didn't want to light the Wolfswood aflame.
Arya was holding a weirwood bow provided to her by Val. Apparently the 'wildling princess' had been impressed with her since first meeting her at Last Hearth and thought of any 'southern' woman Arya was worthy of such a bow. It probably helped her opinion when I saved her life from a rather crafty wight yesterday. Aerion meanwhile was further down the wall holding a bow of his own made of sturdy Ironwood.
Each archer had dozens of arrows quivered at their side ready to fire when the enemy started to draw closer. But they just stood there like statues awaiting some unseen signal. The man at Arya's right started to fidget nervously.
And then finally, nearly an hour after nightfall the wights started moving toward the walls. Aerion had been given command of the walls so it was his strong voice that rang out in the dark night, "Light!" Every arrow was dipped in the fires along the wall, "Draw!" The sound of bow strings being pulled back to cheeks could be heard by everyone on the wall a moment later the final command came over the din, "Loose!" A thousand arrows soared out from the walls of Winterfell all at once. Arya felt the light sting of the arrow feather dragging across her cheek as her arrow shot off and struck one of the charging wights straight through the eye.
Many of the flaming arrows fell harmlessly into the ground while hundreds more sunk into the rotting flesh of the living dead and lit their flesh aflame. There were no more commands from Aerion after that, arrows were simply fired at will though they did little to slow the wights' progress. They reached the walls quickly. People had been amused the previous day when this happened, after all what could they do but fall against the strong stone like waves on the shore without siege towers. Their amusement was quickly replaced by horror as the dead started scaling the walls with relative ease. Swords were drawn by those along the walls as arrows started flowing outward from the courtyard instead. The dead reached the top of the wall moments later.
Blackfyre in hand, Arya relieved the first wight to pop over the edge of the wall of its head instantly. The once again lifeless body tumbled back down the sides knocking into the multitude of other bodies below. And so it went, arrows sailing overhead as wights scaled the walls. More than one managed to gain a foothold and start attacking the many defenders.
Six hours into the fight, Arya was stepping over the bodies of both wights and men, blood seeped into the stone and stained her shoes. Blackfyre was tinged the same color as its name and were anyone to look it would be hard to discern a difference between the Valyrian steel blade and the black steel of Aerion's blade. Still they fought on tirelessly. She couldn't say how many of the 2,000 defenders remained but it was enough to continue the defense of the castle. Arrows had long since stopped flying from behind the walls for all that remained were the dragonglass arrows.
The wights were coming more slowly but that wasn't exactly a comforting thought for all here had fought in the battle outside of Last Hearth when the Others had bided their time before joining the fight. Arya thought that history was about to repeat itself as she could see ice spiders making their way toward the walls but their masters weren't upon their back. The large arachnids charged forward, climbing the walls in a moment.
She could see Aerion further along the wall, blood on his feet and hands. Probably from trying to help one of the fallen. Even as she watched him he cut three legs from an arachnid that came over the top. The thing still tried to attack at his throat but he drove his sword through one of its eight eyes and into the brain. Its large husk fell over lifeless.
Arya meanwhile was forced to turn and cut at the head of another of the great spiders as it attempted to bite at her arm. The creature snapped its pincers at her angrily before rearing back yet again and diving at her. Up on the walls, she didn't have the necessary room to dodge to the left or right so tried to go backward. Unfortunately, her foot caught on one of the bodies at her feet and she fell to the ground losing her grasp on Blackfyre in the process. In that moment, Arya knew that death was a very real possibility. She ignored her fear and instead looked back at the eight eyes and the snapping pincers that hoped to devour her flesh.
She pulled her wolf's head dagger from its sheath, blade down and drove it forward toward the spider's eye but it reacted before the strike could reach home. It grasped her hand with its pincers, causing her to yell out in pain as it tightened its hold. Before it crushed the bones in her hand, she wrenched it free in one violent motion, dagger still in hand, and slashed lower. The blade sunk into the spider's underbelly and its blood sprayed over Arya's body. The creature faltered but tried once more to attack at her throat before falling over dead.
Arya pulled herself from the ground wincing slightly as she felt a twinge in her hand. She picked up Blackfyre from where it sat on the stone when she heard a shout down in the courtyard. The sight that met her eyes caused her blood to chill in her veins as making their way into the courtyard from one of the hidden entrances were the Others .Arya caught Aerion's eye further down the wall and they shared a quick nod before moving down the staircase to fight the monsters at their doors.
At that same moment the outer gates shattered like most common steel as another of the Others had apparently drawn close enough to the castle to touch its gates with their unnatural ice. Wights started pouring into the courtyard and it appeared that they were about to be overwhelmed even as Arya and Aerion both reached the ground in turn.
Then a great roar was heard and Viserion landed in the center of the courtyard interrupting the battle briefly before unleashing flames right where the gates once stood, incinerating the wights and pushing the White Walker there back. The metal and stone that remained there melted from the heat of the dragon's fire and formed a solid barrier once again. Arya didn't know for sure but she was quite confident the Others couldn't shatter rock the way they could metal. I imagine this fight would have been over quite some time ago if that were the case.
Jon dismounted Viserion who took flight once more immediately afterward. He joined up with Aerion and Arya as they made their way across the courtyard to where the Others were killing man after man with relative ease as they entered one at a time through the breached passageway.
The three each headed for one of the pale warriors as the other men around the courtyard retreated further as their leaders took the task of fighting the greatest of their enemies. The three Others actually in the courtyard approached there three would be opponents with cold purpose.
Arya had developed her own way of fighting against the blue eyed demons during the last battle, and evasion was its name. They were fast yes but they were far stronger than she could hope to be and while Aerion and Jon might be able to withstand their constant attacks unfailingly, she could not without tiring far faster.
So she twirled and spun, using the famous Braavosi water dance to great affect and she could actually feel the malevolent anger emanating from the powerful opponent who continually cut and slashed with his icy sword at the air where she had been only a moment earlier. When finally she could tell that the White Walker was beginning to tire of her refusal to die she struck quickly and effectively.
She still dodged but instead of moving completely out of the way she stepped closer and gave a downward slash that managed to disarm her enemy. Not giving the White Walker an opportunity to respond she brought Blackfyre up and shoved it through the White Walker's throat, its blue eyes opened in recognition of pain before it fell into nothing more than a puddle at her feet. Jon finished his with a slash that went through the White Walker's collarbone and Aerion with a stab straight through the stomach.
Jon called out as there was a slight lull in the battle, "Wun Wun!" The giant moved through those fighting easily enough to come to Jon's side. He began talking in the Old Tongue something Arya didn't realize he knew. A short conversation later and the giant nodded before doing what he could to close the entrance the Others had come through.
Arya turned to look at Jon a little heatedly, "Why was that not closed before?"
"It was," Jon said back just as angrily though not at Arya, "they managed to break through anyway. They were likely working on it all of yesterday." They all nodded before joining the throng of battle again.
Three hours later and the waves of wights had increased their attacks yet again after the failed attempts take the yard by the Others. The sky lightened as the sun rose behind them but unlike the day prior they didn't cease their attacks. Things were looking particularly grim, the others had remounted their ice spiders and attacked the walls with their thrall. Arya, Aerion and Jon led the remains of their forces back toward the inner gates making them fight for every inch as they went.
Arya found herself fighting another of the White Walkers, she cried out as it cut across her arm. The cold that overtook her would have been an all-consuming distraction had it not been for her time with the Faceless Men. Instead she ignored it and brought Blackfyre up to deflect the killing blow but her defense faltered and she was pushed back. Again she was just near death when an arrow pierced the White Walker through the eye. Arya looked behind her to see a smirking Val.
It was at that moment that they heard a roar, one that no one was expecting as Drogon and Viserion were both now in the yard helping to ward off the sea of wights. Then with a whoosh of wings, Aegon, atop Rhaegal, soared into the courtyard and the three dragons together, two of them with riders, pushed back the horde. The sound of hooves and steel meeting steel outside the wall became clear as the roar died down. Amazingly the White Walker in front of her actually looked panicked when suddenly there was an unholy shout from outside of the walls in the terrible language of the Others. Even in their unfamiliar language most could guess what was being said. They're retreating.
Sure enough the wights and White Walkers began fleeing back over the walls and out toward the Wolfswood. Smart we can't properly pursue them there. Daenerys urged Drogon to take flight and he along with his brother incinerated as many of the living dead as they could before they escaped the battle. They finished off those who couldn't escape the walls in the following minutes. Arya was disappointed to find that none of the Others survived the fight. Who knows what we might have been able to learn from one of their number if we captured them.
It took another twenty minutes before the fight finally came to a complete end. Jon had Wun Wun form an opening in the wall where Viserion had melted the stones together so the reinforcements could actually enter the courtyard. The first through the gate was Garlan Tyrell in his fine armor glinting and his sword drawn. He noticed Arya and Aerion standing together resting their weary eyes and rode over to them, "Well it is good to see that you two are well, I've grown rather fond of your company. " They gave small, tired smiles in return though they really didn't feel like smiling.
"Well, you arrived just in time." Aerion said evenly. He obviously didn't want his friend to take the statement the wrong way, "I'm afraid we would not have held much longer if not for you."
Garlan nodded grimly, "We did all we could. I'm just pleased we arrived when we did." This time the pair smiled genuinely as he looked around at the carnage in the yard.
Of the 2,000 men and women who defended the wall only 300 remained and those that survived looked entirely beleaguered. Tormund died in the defense of his oldest son Toregg's life, while Ser Axel Florent fell over the side of the southern wall when losing his nerve seeing the spiders scale the walls.
Garlan spoke again his eyes saddened at the view in front of him, "Let us hope that this is just the first step toward a true end." Both Arya and Aerion couldn't help but agree with the sentiment.
AN: I don't have much to say about this chapter. The battles were both fun and difficult to write, I'm hoping everybody thinks they turned out well. I really enjoyed writing the conversation between Arya and Jon down in the crypts.