AN: Thank you as always for the reviews, they always help me keep my writing going.
OrionTheHunter: I'm pleased you liked it and you are very welcome. I genuinely love writing this story.
Shadowkragg: Glad you love it. The characters are my biggest concern so I am definitely glad you enjoy how I've portrayed them.
Beloved Daughter: I'm really happy that the battle came across as desperate for you, as that is what I was going for. Thank you for saying it was brilliantly written, I really appreciate it.
MVDB: Glad you think so, and glad you're liking both stories.
Guest: There will certainly be more Dany and Jon. Yeah I like Tormund as well but not everyone can survive in a war.
A Frozen Shadow: I didn't enjoy killing him but people have to die, particularly in a battle like that.
Birdy1210: The two battles were difficult to write, particularly the siege at Winterfell so I'm happy you feel they came out well. Yeah I really enjoyed the scene between Arya and Jon, it was definitely a fun one to write. As for Sansa, Tyrion, and the Tyrells, I can understand your desire to see them there but they have their own obligations and their skills are far better put to use away from the frontline; Sansa and Tyrion in particular. As for Varys, I don't really like or dislike the Spider but he is certainly the type of person to stay as far away from the fighting as possible.
It felt like a never ending battle, fought in cold and darkness, the screams of dying men and women echoing, again and again, in the emptiness of the night. Arya couldn't get the burning blue eyes out of her mind on the nights where they were fortunate enough to have a reprieve from battle. But they fought on ever further north, pushing back the Others and the host of undead at their command. There were losses, thousands of losses, but they could not stop, could not let the darkness win. But how does it end? How do we win against their seemingly endless number? We've won every battle and yet they just keep coming like waves against the shore and there certainly doesn't seem to be a chance of reconciling our differences.
Arya sat in her tent, the winds battered harshly at its side as the fire did what it could to keep the cold at bay. Aerion lay on a pile of furs, doing what he could to recuperate from the last fight. She shivered involuntarily at the thought of it. He very nearly died. If I had been but a moment slower… She didn't even want to think about such a possibility.
They were just south of the Wall now, pushing past Last Hearth and the location of their first battle against the Others a month prior. It was at Moletown just three days prior that Aerion nearly died. That particular battle lasted two days, and the dragons burnt down the entire little town in their wroth, something they had done their best to avoid in any battle prior. But the dead seemed to come harder there. Hopefully, it was a sign that we have their backs against the wall.
She remembered turning down a street of the long abandoned town. Aerion was fighting two of the White Walkers at the same time, no small feat even for someone with Aerion's skill. More of our losses have been from the masters than the servants in the past three months. He lashed out with both his sword and an obsidian dagger, while dodging and dipping around the spear and sword that the two ethereal enemies held respectively. She could still feel the panic of that moment in the back of her mind, eating at her. She hadn't felt such a thing since watching her father's execution at the Sept of Baelor. It was fear, real fear that I was going to lose the person most important to me in this world.
She moved forward but was cut off by a group of wights. She cut them down easily enough but when she turned back to look for Aerion her heart clenched in her chest. One of the White Walker's laid dead at his feet, nothing more than a puddle of ice cold water but the second had his gleaming sword shoved through Aerion's right shoulder blade from behind. Rivulets of hot blood smoked as they poured out of his wound and stained his armor.
From her distance twenty feet away, she could hear Aerion pull in a ragged breath as the blade was pulled cleanly from his shoulder. He didn't fall to his knees, instead turning to strike at the enemy. The enemy deflected the blow lazily and Arya watched as Aerion's black blade fell from his hand. The clang of steel hitting the solid ice on the ground broke Arya from her momentary daze. She pulled her wolf's head dagger from her hip and threw it at the White Walker.
She could hit a sparrow in the eye from fifty feet away on a good day, so as it left her hand she had no doubt that it would drive into the back of the bastard that was on the brink of taking Aerion from her. The black dagger lodged in the White Walker's body along the spine. The creature turned to look Arya in the eye briefly, a mild look of surprise crossing its features before it fell apart before her eye.
Even as she approached to make sure he was well, he bent down to grasp the hilt of his sword. He gave her a grateful if pained smile before both made their way back into the battle.
Of course, she was unsurprised to find that Aerion actually suffered from the wound greatly once the battle was over and the adrenaline had left his system. So he was lying bandaged across the chest, the wound having been sealed and healing quickly. It was fortunate that the White Walker hadn't struck higher otherwise it could very well have broken his clavicle.
Arya looked over to her lover fondly, that wasn't the first time they had managed to save one another in the middle of their struggle against the Others. He had severed the head from a wight that attempted to rip at her neck while in the Wolfswood. She had killed another wight that nearly stabbed Aerion through the knee while near the Long Lake. And just south of Last Hearth, Aerion had severed the head of a White Walker that threw her to the ground in a heap. She had bounced against a rock and fallen in a only half conscious. Aerion confessed afterward that when he saw her lying there unmoving he went into a rage and couldn't even describe his relief when he saw her rise up with her usual expressive, metallic grey eyes.
She smiled fondly as she remembered just how Aerion had expressed his relief that night as she brought a strip of meat up to her mouth, the taste wasn't particularly pleasant and she didn't particularly enjoy eating horse as she had always liked the animals but it was available and necessary to live so she ate it all the same. Not all of the steeds had been put to the blade, only enough to supplement the army's food supply. She saw movement out of the corner of her eye as Aerion made to sit up as he rubbed the sleep form his eyes.
She moved over to him immediately, "How are you feeling?"
Aerion gave her a small smile, "Arya I'm fine. You did a fantastic job of patching up the injury." He reached up to grab her hand and pull her closer, "I appreciate your concern more than you will ever know but you need to stop worrying about me."
Arya scoffed good-naturedly, "Aerion you hovered around me for days after that battle near Last Hearth. I think I get to worry about you just the same." She patted him lightly on the cheek.
His grin widened significantly, "Fair enough, would my fair lady like to inspect my grievous wound then?" There was a light teasing in his voice.
She chuckled briefly before bringing her hands to the bandages that wrapped around his upper chest and the afflicted shoulder, "Why not?" With gentle movements Arya pulled the white cloth from his body to reveal the injury beneath. It healed well, though its appearance didn't make that immediately apparent. The inflammation was gone but the skin around the semicircular wound was a deep blue. Most would think this meant there was still bruising or that the wound had developed some sort of infection but it was merely a result of the unnatural weapons the Others used in battle. She had a wound on her arm to prove much the same.
She touched her finger tips to it lightly, the skin in that area was slightly colder than anywhere else but there was no other sign of irritation. Aerion didn't even flinch as she pushed harder to ensure he wasn't merely trying to fool her. As she pulled away he rolled his shoulder twice, "So Maester Arya, what is your opinion?" He asked cheekily.
She smacked his arm lightly even if she couldn't help the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips, "You appear to be fully healed and able to go about your business as you would have prior to the injury."
Aerion winked at her, "Well that is good news, I have been rather inattentive to a certain woman as of late. Of course that might have something to do with that same woman being my self-appointed healer."
They shared a laugh as Arya pushed him down onto his back, "Well I'm positive that she understands your inattentiveness, but I know that she is ecstatic that you are available for both battle and… more enjoyable ventures." She leaned down and kissed him hard upon the lips as she started to grind her hips into his growing erection covered only by the furs underneath which he slept.
His hands dug into her hips, forcing more pleasurable pressure for the pair as she went to undo the ties of her shirt. They both stifled a groan though as a throat cleared near the opening of the tent. Whoever the messenger was they were wise enough not to walk in without prior warning. Arya turned her head toward the flap irritated, "What do you need?" She snapped out.
Garlan's voice reached their ears a moment later an obvious note of humor in his voice, "The Queen requests your presence. I wouldn't keep her waiting too long if I were you." He lost it at that point and chuckled. Bastard, he intentionally picked that moment to interrupt us. Despite that though, she couldn't find it within herself to be truly angry at the man. Very rarely was there room for laughter during this war and even she could admit the humor in the moment.
Aerion noticed the look on her face and leaned up to give her a quick kiss, "We will be there shortly Garlan, thank you."
"I shall see you in her tent shortly then," He paused before continuing , "Anybody who knows you, knows there is no way you can finish what you've just started shortly though." Arya turned to glare at the man on the other side of the tent flap, "She's glaring at me now isn't she?"
This caused Aerion to stifle a chuckle as Arya huffed rather cutely, or at least if you were to ask Aerion's opinion it was cute, to most it was dangerous. The huff was followed by a snarl, "Fuck off Garlan, we will see you shortly." The man left without another word though they could still hear his light laughter.
Aerion gripped her under the arm and lifter her off of his lap, letting her come to rest at his side. She was clearly still unhappy about the situation, "Arya calm down, we will have plenty of time to continue our… activities later."
Arya snorted, "Garlan did that intentionally and you know it."
Aerion smiled back at her as he stood and began dressing himself quickly, "Yes he did. I can't entirely blame him for his fun though. He has been fighting a very long time, moments of levity are necessary to keep from going insane. And let us not forget that he has a wife he hasn't seen in years and a child he has never actually met."
Arya sighed, "You're right, I should just be happy that I have you here with me."
Aerion pulled his shirt over his head and leaned down to kiss her where she still sat on the furs, "Don't feel guilty, we love each other and as such want to indulge in one another when the opportunity arises but we are here together and that is more than anyone else can say… save perhaps Dany and Jon."
A mischievous smile broke out across Arya's face, "Oh, how true? The pair rarely leaves each other's side and more than once I have seen Jon leave her tent come the morning though he insists he merely fell asleep while they discussed matters pertaining to the war." She rolled her eyes, "As though I would actually believe that."
Aerion laughed, "I agree with you whole heartedly. I imagine were they really simply discussing the war at the very least Aegon would be included."
Arya nodded her agreement, "So, what do you think the Queen wishes to discuss? Strategy? There really is nothing to say about this fight. We just keep moving forward until there isn't a single one of the bastards left."
He simply shrugged as he pulled a grey fur cloak over his shoulders and walked over with hers in hand, "I couldn't tell you for sure Arya, perhaps this is another war council, perhaps there is other news, or perhaps she simply wishes to speak with us. We haven't spoken with her much the past few days thanks to my injury."
"Right," Arya allowed him to drape the cloak over her shoulders, "well let's go find out shall we." They walked out into the biting cold close together, doing what they could to keep it from sinking into their bones as they hurried through the encampment toward Daenerys' tent. The three dragons had done a fantastic job of clearing the area and the fires lit all through the camp certainly helped keep the cold at bay but there was no way of avoiding the cold this far north.
They stepped into the Queen's tent to find many of the lords already awaiting them. So a war council then, how fantastic. Of those usually included in these meetings only one had perished in the fighting, Obara Sand. Arya knew for a fact that the Dornish woman was a fierce fighter, but she was accustomed to the soft sand and sweltering heat of her homeland. The North took its toll on her both physically and mentally and when they fought in Molestown she was overwhelmed by a group of wights before having her throat slashed open.
There were other injuries of course but hers was the only death. Edric Dayne lost the pinky finger of his right hand, Stannis Baratheon the tip of his left ear, and Loras had another scar on his pretty face. It does make him look less like a maiden recently flowered though. The worst though by far was Harry Hardyng, the man was unaccustomed to wielding a knife with the necessary skill to fight one of the White Walkers; as a result, he lost his left eye from a slash and nearly died in the first battle after Winterfell. I wonder how Sansa will react… should they ever see each other again.
Daenerys sat at the head of a long table, Jon on her right and Aegon on her left. Ser Barristan stood behind the trio in silent vigilance. They were talking amiably amongst themselves. There seemed to be no animosity between the half-brothers, something that genuinely surprised the former assassin considering the building relationship between Dany and Jon. I suppose I should count it as a blessing, I would much rather not have to watch Jon's back for him.
There were only two seats open and they were next to Jon. Arya took the seat directly next to her brother while Aerion took the seat just next to Stannis Baratheon; Davos Seaworth sitting just next to him as per usual. Arya had to admit she was impressed with the former smuggler, the man wasn't a trained knight by any stretch of the imagination but from what she had seen he fought smart and dirty. A combination that had left him uninjured where better trained men weren't. Probably helps that he has the good sense to avoid the Others when they join the battle as best as he can. I like the man but I doubt he would last long, dirty tricks don't exactly work on them.
As Arya sat she caught the last bits of the conversation going on between the royal family, "… well it is your decision but you know our opinions." Jon said resolutely as Aegon nodded along. Daenerys was frowning slightly in concentration and certainly didn't look like she agreed when finally she spoke.
"Lords and Ladies," Asha Greyjoy actually snorted at the mention of ladies, considering she didn't consider herself as such and from what she knew of Arya she was far from a lady as well. As far as she knew the only ladies there were the Queen and the Red Priestess who stood not far behind Stannis.
Daenerys ignored this as she continued, "I asked you all join me here so that we might discuss how to proceed in our struggle against the Others."
Arya sighed as the noise in the room escalated immediately. She really didn't see a reason to have this conversation. There was nothing for it but to keep fighting until the enemy had nothing left to give. They don't fight for a cause as far as we know, or for lands, or for anything save for the death that war brings. We can't merely negotiate conflict away like we did in the Vale. Arya and Aerion just sat silently as the Lords bickered amongst themselves.
It was Stannis's voice that rose up out of the multitude of conversations to actually address the Queen's concern, "We have them back beyond the Wall, though that means little considering it is just a shattered remnant now. We have no way of rebuilding the structure so even with them on the other side we must continue pushing them back."
"And what then?" Daenerys responded a little testily, "We have already lost more than a fifth of our forces and we have no idea what our enemy's actually number. For all we know, they can continue to throw the dead at us until we are nothing but burned bones and blue eyed corpses. Add to that, we have yet to actually encounter a leader amongst their number," she raised a hand to stop the comments of more than one in the room, "I am aware that we have encountered and killed hundreds of the Others but there is no indication who in their number is the leader."
Ser Davos, who like Aerion and Arya stayed silent when the bickering began, spoke up, "What do you purpose then your Grace?"
Daenerys looked to Aegon and then Jon in turn, she held the latter's gaze a while longer before responding, "I suggest that I along with Jon and Aegon fly north to the Land of Always Winter while it is vulnerable. See what we might learn there and if there is a way to end this war just as the Last Hero supposedly did thousands of years ago, take that opportunity."
"You would leave us without the aid of a single dragon with the enemy just ahead?" Harry Hardyng sounded rather furious at the idea and the sentiment was shared by nearly every other lord along the table.
Asha's voice proved to be the least angry and most well-reasoned, "We have never fought a battle against them without a dragon. It would be foolish to believe that we could withstand the number of wights they could send at us without the dragons there to serve as a deterrent."
Daenerys nodded stiffly and turned to look at her nephews, "So then, we know I shall be taking this journey." Jon did not look pleased with the unilateral decision but there was little that could be done at the moment save to offer his service to his aunt.
"I will gladly take the journey with you," he paused a moment, "though I must say whether you take myself or Aegon, I recommend that at least two other capable swords be brought along as well."
Daenerys nodded, "Aegon do you have any objections to remaining with the army to help defend against the wights?"
The Prince shook his head slowly, "No your Grace, I would be honored to lead the army in your absence but I must confess my hesitance towards this plan… again."
Daenerys sighed heavily, the weight of the situation making her look far older than her twenty years of age, "I understand your objections but almost 40,000 men have died in this fight with no end in sight. What will be left of the kingdoms when it is all over?"
Aegon nodded reluctantly, "As you say, but I still don't agree."
"Noted Prince Aegon, but I have made up my mind." She turned her attention back to Jon, "Who would you recommend accompany us on our journey?" Daenerys obviously had her own opinions, knowing full well who the three she would consider were.
"I would recommend Ser Barristan," Jon began, sparing the old knight a quick glance to which he nodded, "but he doesn't hold a blade that could harm the Others, a dagger yes but he would be far more useful where he can use his sword to full affect." He looked around the room until his eyes came to Arya and Aerion, "In fact, save myself I believe it is only these two in the room who hold weapons beyond obsidian daggers that can harm our enemies." Edric Dayne seemed displeased with this claim but Dawn had been proven to withstand the weapons of their enemy but lacked the ability to actually harm the Others.
Daenerys nodded her agreement with the decision, clearly pleased, "Very well, the army will move out tomorrow morning. Should we learn nothing on our venture into the Far North we will return and aid in the fighting as soon as possible, and continue with this war until either they are all dead or we are." All around the table gave grim nods of assent at the Queen's command, "You may leave us ,thank you." When everyone else cleared from the room only six remained, though Ser Barristan seemed entirely unconcerned with the conversation at the moment.
"Aegon, Jon," Daenerys addressed her nephews, "I know neither of you agree with my decision in this matter but thank you for standing by it when it was presented to the other lords."
Jon shrugged, "You are our Queen, we can provide council and our opinions but in the end it is your decision and both of us shall follow your commands whatever they are."
"I have learned my lessons well, your Grace" Aegon told her firmly, "This is your decision and I will abide it even if I don't agree."
Daenerys smiled lightly, "I fear we must travel into the heart of this terrible winter, I can only hope that we will return." Jon grasped her hand affectionately and Arya had the good sense not to tease at the moment.
"There is a story of the Last Hero," Arya started, drawing the attention of the others in the room, "they say he sought out the Children of the Forest, it is possible we might do the same."
"That story is thousands of years old Arya," Jon rebutted almost dismissively, "and no one knows for sure if he even found the Children. Nan never was very clear on how the whole thing ended."
Arya rubbed her temples, "I know Jon, I do. I was just trying to think of something that might help end this war and this winter."
Aerion wrapped an arm around her shoulders as all in the room fell into silence for a long moment until finally she spoke again, "There is one thing that bothers me though."
"And what is that?" Aegon asked curiously.
"Why does Valyrian steel harm the Others? The stories of the Long Night date back 8,000 years, the Freehold didn't come to power until 5,000 years ago." Arya understood that it could very well just be a result of the nature of Valyrian steel and its magical properties but was curious whether there was a better explanation.
Jon furrowed his brow, "I never thought of that. There was a book at Castle Black that spoke of the Last Hero's dragonsteel sword. I always assumed there must be some sort of connection between that and Valyrian steel."
Arya shrugged, "It is very likely just an issue of these events taking place so long ago that the history has been distorted. After all, they say Bran the Builder built the Wall during the Age of Heroes but that ended 10,000 years ago. Yet it is also said that he built the Wall to defend against the Others who didn't come until 8,000 years ago. The two stories just don't work together." Everyone nodded before Aegon stood.
"As interesting as the conversation is," Arya was surprised to find he meant that, "I shall leave you all for the night, we march to battle again tomorrow and I would like to be as well rested as I can manage." Everyone could certainly understand that desire. The first few battles after Winterfell happened in quick succession and lasted days, they were fortunate that the enemy had become less tenacious of late. Of course they could be trying to lure us into a false sense of security.
Jon made to leave as well, "I think I shall do the same." Daenerys' eyes followed him as he made to leave and Arya decided that she had enough of this foolishness.
"Jon sit back down," he turned to look at her confused but did so nonetheless, "Why would you leave when you will simply return later?"
Both blushed rather vividly at being called out so directly, something she found indescribably funny as both had lovers in the past. Then again, it has been years for both of them and neither are trained assassins so I suppose I should give them some slack. So she decided to continue as though they weren't red as Melisandre's robes, "You care about each other that much is obvious. There is no reason to hide the relationship that has developed between you two." She paused and her stern expressions softened significantly, "We four might very well die in the frozen North tomorrow, far away from our homes and family and friends. Take what comfort you can while you can." She leaned into Aerion as she finished her mild rant, "I know I plan on doing just that."
Jon grimaced, "I really don't need to know those sorts of things Arya… but you are right." He glanced at Daenerys who was smiling at him quite widely. The pair had become closer over the course of the months and battles they'd experienced together. They were tired of trying to hide something in which there was no shame.
Ser Barristan cleared his throat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, "Your Grace, if you wouldn't mind I shall make my way over to the tent set up for the others of your guard." Daenerys chuckled lightly as she nodded that he may leave. Aerion and Arya soon followed suit.
As soon as they reached their tent, Arya found herself pushed onto the furs, her shift opened and warm breath assaulting the nipple of her left breast. She couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips nor the dozens that followed. They were both extremely pleased they weren't interrupted a second time that night.
The next morning, the pair woke up tangled together naked but warm from the close contact. They made love one more time before getting ready for the day to find the camp in a commotion. They quickly packed up their tent and found Daenerys and Jon waiting with Drogon and Viserion. Daenerys was hugging the old knight who had been her most devout servant for over five years.
Her eyes were watery though she was able to keep from crying outright, "You have been there for me at some of the most pivotal moments of my life. There has never been a nobler knight Ser Barristan." Daenerys hadn't made this sort of farewell when leaving for Last Hearth ahead of the cavalry but at the time she wasn't nearly as afraid. Now they were heading toward a land unmapped by any man, she wanted to make sure the old knight knew exactly how she felt.
Barristan looked entirely taken aback, though he hugged his Queen back tightly, "It has been my greatest honor to serve someone who actually deserves to rule. You do better by your name then any of your ancestors ever could." They backed away from one another both smiling slightly before Daenerys moved toward Drogon. Both Nymeria and Ghost stood nearby, waiting to be taken up in the claws of the dragons. Neither Jon nor Arya had the heart to leave them behind.
As the army began making its way out of the encampment in the shadow of what remained of the Wall, the four mounted up and moments later, direwolves in tow, they were flying quickly through the air to the northwest.
Two hours in they flew past the Fist of the First Men, barely visible in the thick snow falling from the sky. It wasn't much to look at but it was an old, strong place where many of Jon's black brothers died in an attack by the Others that led to the eventual death of Lord Commander Mormont. It was only slightly further North of their that they noticed a prominent weirwood tree atop a hill, two smaller ones at what appeared to be a cave entrance and ironwoods and more weirwoods interspersed beyond. Even over the rush of air, Arya was able to hear the slight whimper of Nymeria in Drogon's claw. Arya leaned into Daenerys and spoke loudly enough that the Queen could hear, "I think we should land near that cave there." She received a puzzled look in return but Daenerys urged Drogon to land nonetheless; Viserion following suit moments later.
As Arya dropped down from Drogon's back she noticed it was eerily quiet near the entrance to this cave. Nymeria was sniffing the ground enthusiastically before her head snapped up and they all noticed a great silver-grey direwolf with yellow eyes just near the entrance to the cave, the three massive animals yipped happily to one another and Arya couldn't hide her shock. Aerion noticed the look and leaned in to speak to her, "Is that your younger brother's wolf?" Arya only nodded mutely as she made her way into the cave; Jon just behind with the same bewildered look as his sister.
The cave was dark and far warmer than any of the four expected .Arya couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched but she ignored it as she made her way further into the, much larger than she expected, cave. They walked only a few minutes when the distinct sound of running water reached her ears, something she never would have expected.
As they moved forward they entered a large cavern with the roots of weirwoods and ironwoods and every other tree upon the hill running along its walls. There was a sheer drop maybe twenty paces in where the sound of water was coming from, and a natural bridge that led to the other side. At the very edge of this abyss there was a lone figure that seemed to be one with the roots of the weirwood tree. Arya had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she had found her little brother.
Bran had grown over the years, even in his strange state of both man and tree that much was obvious. His upper body was broad like their father's, his auburn hair grew out all the way to his hip in a slightly curled fashion, and his blue eyes were just as clear as she remembered. His legs though were a different story, the roots of the tree had grown around and through them. Arya noticed idly what appeared to be another mass of root a few feet away, it looked almost like it had a face but no eyes gazed upon her from that root system.
"Arya, Jon," Bran's voice was deeper and rough as though it hadn't been used in years, "It is good to see my sister and cousin again, though I have seen you much more recently than you have seen me." His eyes switched focus from his relatives to Daenerys and Aerion behind, "The Mother of Dragons and the last son of the Blackfyres, greetings to you as well."
"Bran," Arya began in a hushed tone, "What is this place? What happened to you?"
Bran smiled, his teeth were stained red. The same red as the leaves of a weirwood tree, "This is the cave of the last greenseer, me. Lord Bloodraven," he nodded toward the mass of roots across from him, "was the last before me."
Arya nodded slowly, "And where is Hodor?"
A brief shadow of pain fell over the younger boy but it passed quickly, "He is one with the Old gods now Arya," he paused, "the Reeds left this place two years ago, I did what I could to protect them." A small fond smile crossed his face, "Meera made it home, Jojen did not."
Arya knew these to be the children of Howland Reed but didn't find that particularly important at the moment, "So you have been here by yourself for two years?"
Bran gave her a sympathetic look, "No Arya, never alone. What remains of the Children stays with me, doing what they can to maintain this place against the Cold Ones. But I have been with father, grandfather, Robb, even you and Jon. I see beyond the here and now into the past and into many futures."
Jon spoke up then, "How did you protect your friends on their journey south Bran?"
"In the darkness, through bird and beast alike I protected them from any who might harm them. The Others most of all," he turned to his cousin, "Just as I used them to keep the Others behind the Wall. It wasn't just luck and your efforts that kept them from breeching the Wall for five years. I fought them in the only way I could and kept them from working the magic that finally found that old monument collapse." Jon was clearly taken aback.
Daenerys used the brief lull in conversation to interject, "I'm sorry to interrupt Brandon Stark, but do you know how we might end this war with the Others?"
Bran turned his attention to her, his face relaxed and when he spoke he was calm, "You refuse to make the same mistakes as the First Men and Children did when they were in conflict with the Others."
"What do you mean Bran?" Jon asked with a furrowed brow.
"The Others are not what you believe, they are more complex than simple monsters. They, like the Children or Men, are simply another race that had every intention of conquering Westeros some 10,000 years ago. Not to end the world but to turn it into their kingdom. Their magic is based in death, their thrall are like slaves but without the pain of their masters whips." Daenerys' nostrils flared but she maintained her silence.
He paused a moment, "It wasn't the Andals who drove the Children deeper into their Forests but the Others, and men found themselves near death. The Last Hero, gathered the Children and together they and the First Men drove them back to the Fist. There they made a pact; the Far North would belong to the Others where they could maintain their cold kingdom in peace. The giants and children could keep the forests and the mountains of the land, and together they would live in peace.
"History of that age is distorted terribly," Bran said almost morosely, "The Wall was a product of the giants, Others, Children and First Men together to demarcate the territorial lines. It is only correct, in so far as it was Bran the Builder, first of the Starks who helped in its construction. "
Bran sighed, "It was 1,500 years later the Night's Watch was created for the purpose of defending the Wall, but against the South not the North. I question why no one ever found it strange the castles of the Watch were on the south side of the Wall instead of the north, particularly when you consider that the Walls of those castles are barred and defended against southern attack."
"The thirteenth Lord Commander, the man who would become known as the Night's King, one Edrik Stark was north of the Wall hunting, one of the few things allowed in the pact, when he met his White Walker bride. She was the Lady of the Far North, a Princess for all intents and purposes." His blue eyes, closed a moment as he took a deep breath,"The story from there is partially true, they wed against his vows but they did not perform terrible, bloody rituals. A feudal king named Joramund outside of the control of the Starks at the time heard of this travesty, as they viewed it, and attacked the Watch in force."
Bran sighed, "The black brothers of the time did not appreciate their commander's decision and allowed the attackers entrance into the castle and when the couple fled, they were then allowed into the Far North to continue the pursuit. It was because of that the Others attacked again. Their pact was broken, and another Lord Brandon Stark, rode north with a host of men to try and end the hostilities."
"After trying and failing to reach new terms with the Others, Brandon managed to convince the Children to fight with them and together they pushed them back into the Lands of Always Winter, where with the blood of wargs and greenseers the Children cast a spell that locked it off from the rest of the world for thousands of years. It weakened significantly when the dragons left this world and fifty years ago it broke entirely." He looked at the enthralled faces of his audience before continuing, "They are the same people betrayed so long ago and since they gained their freedom they have bided their time. Should they have been able to break the Wall five years ago as they intended, all of Westeros would already be left in cold and darkness, an empty husk all because of the actions of Joramun."
All four looked at the greenseer before them in stunned silence. Everything we thought to know about history isn't true. "What happened to Joramun and his people?" She asked unable to think of anything else to comment on at the moment.
"Brandon refused them reentrance into the south and they became the first of the wildlings. They followed Joramun until his death but his four sons fought amongst themselves. One became the first Magnar of Thenn while the other three warred against each other over the desire to be the strongest. Their people chose which one to follow and scattered across the lands north of the Wall." Bran explained in his raspy, almost wind-like voice.
Daenerys was frowning, "The mistake you spoke of… there were many mistakes made, which do you hope we will avoid?"
Bran turned his penetrating blue eyes on her, something she herself had done with her violet eyes many times in the past as, "You can either negotiate with the Others, just as the Children and the First Men did in 10,000 years ago or… you kill them all, every single White Walker, there can be no spell and if there cannot be peace then they must die. Should you find a way to negotiate peace, you must ensure their kingdom is never intruded upon again."
For the first time Aerion addressed the younger boy, his voice filled with no small amount of awe, "How do you know all of this? Truly, it seems such an impossible thing."
Bran spared a brief smile at Arya before turning to her lover, "I have seen it through the eyes of the hundreds of heart trees that once existed on this continent. I don't give you the false speculations of maesters thousands of years displaced from the events, based on old wives tales meant to terrify children." He assured the warrior looming above him, "I tell you only what I have seen with my own eyes."
Aerion nodded as Daenerys spoke up once again, "I planned to go to the Land of Always Winter, and determine if I might end this war without further bloodshed. I thought to cut off the head of the snake and watch the body falter, but I sense that is not possible?" Arya had never heard Daenerys sound so unsure of something in all her time serving the Mother of Dragons.
Bran nodded his head slightly, the roots around his head drawing tight, "The Queen of Winter hasn't left her icy home, should you wish to negotiate any sort of peace you must speak with her there. It is not a hard place to find." He paused a long moment, "She and her husband are the strategic leaders of the army that threatens the realm, kill them and you shall find the rest of the army will flounder as you hope."
"Did you know we would come?" Jon asked quietly.
"It was among the possible futures I saw. There were a thousand others, ones where each of you lay dying a world away." He turned his eyes on Arya, "I saw you bitter and cold, the most deadly servant of Death who brought the gift to the woman you serve now so loyally." She turned to Jon, "I saw you cold in the snow, stabbed by a dozen of your brothers the last remnants of your person falling into Ghosts mind before the end." To Daenerys, "The best of your advisors never came to you, you chose leniency and in the end it saw all of your works reversed. You chained your dragons and lost them in the process, never would they come to Westeros." To Aerion, "You I saw only recently, after seeing you with Arya in front of the heart tree in Winterfell," the couple shared a brief smile as Bran continued, "You lost yourself to your own mind, fought against Dothraki hoards and died blade in hand but… empty."
Each of them looked slightly uncomfortable before Bran brought some cheer to the slightly depressing speech, "Yet that isn't how things turned out… for any of you, and while it isn't yet an absolute, there is a hope that this winter will end."
Arya leaned down and weaved her hands through the roots that held her brother in place until she was able to give him a semblance of a hug, "I imagine you shall always remain in this place Bran, it is what and who you are. I imagine you know that both Sansa and Rickon are alive and well, Robb was murdered, mother has been long dead and I ended her pale imitation, and that you will see whatever comes of this one way or another. But know that I will miss the opportunity to hear you laugh and watch you smile little brother." Arya pulled away from Bran and they shared sincere smiles, the airiness in Bran's personality slipping momentarily. Jon laid his hand on Bran's shoulder.
They spoke quietly but Arya could hear if only barely, "You will never know how much I appreciate what you did to protect the Wall," he paused a moment, "I won't claim to understand all of this, but if this is what you are meant to be then I wish you all the best."
"Thank you Jon, I heard from father's own mouth the truth of your parentage but brother or cousin, I love you all the same." Jon stepped away and Aerion and Daenerys gave their farewells to the young greenseer before they made their way out of the cave and back toward the waiting dragons. The two massive beasts were curled up between the trees, the direwolves lying comfortably underneath the warmth of their wings.
The four silently remounted the dragons and made their way north again, within the hour they were across the Frostfang Mountains. As they passed the mountain range the winds and snow picked up rather significantly. They flew low so they might still be able to see the ground as they drew closer to the Land of Always Winter. Each of them was covered in snow; even Daenerys began to feel a shiver through her unusually warm skin. Then, suddenly it all just stopped. There was no more wind, no more snowfall; instead, they were looking out over a vast tundra of ice and a distant mountain range.
This was the Land of Always Winter, the cold was still extremely penetrating and Arya had a feeling that were she not huddled so close to her brother, atop a dragon, bundled in the warmest clothing she could muster up she would already have frostbite. It was another two hours before they found the city of the Others, built along the side of the northernmost mountain range in all of Westeros.
The city was built of ice jutting out of the ground in great, tall spires. The walls of their city were smooth and high, a seemingly solid expanse of dense ice so thick they lacked any translucence. Like the people who built it, this city has its own sort of terrible beauty. The buildings were numerous behind the walls, and yet it appeared nearly empty. They must have sent nearly everyone in their city to command their army and conqueror the realm. I can't really blame them either, they say no man has ever survived in this place.
They landed in an open courtyard in front of what could only be described as the Great Hall of this icy city. It was taller than every other building in the city by half, its spire seemingly the most ornate its doors covered in some sort of runes. As the four dismounted again Aerion and Arya huddled together while Jon and Daenerys did the same, they approached the large arched doors slowly and seemingly of their own accord, they opened to reveal a corridor bathed in a blue light emanating from the walls.
They entered warily, each step measured on the smooth icy surface but they noticed rather quickly that despite its similarity in appearance to ice, it wasn't slick. The air was warmer though far from pleasant. The echoes of their footfalls was the only noise in the long corridor as they made their way ever deeper into the building until they reached a set of ornate doors. Unlike the previous doors these did not open of their own accord. Daenerys stepped forward and with a gentle push found the doors gave way to a throne room with six figures inside. Along the walls on either side were two White Walkers, swords on their hips, and translucent armor in place. But it was the pair on the thrones that drew the eye.
On the right sat a man that much at least was apparent and while he had certain features in common with the Others there were distinct differences. His hair was unique, instead of the snow white or pale blue they had come to associate with the enemy, it was dark, black in fact. So black it had the appearance of pulling all other light in the area in. His eyes were looking down on them calculatingly though not maliciously. Part of his iris was the telltale blue of the Others, but inside was a ring of grey that reflected light like polished steel. He wore black armor, his pale skin a stark contrast. Even if the features were intensified she could see the family resemblance. This man was a Stark, she had no doubt in her mind.
On the left sat one of the most beautiful women any of them had ever seen. There was no terrible beauty to the Lady of Winter, she was merely beautiful. Her white hair, whiter even than Daenerys', blew in a non-existent. Her blue eyes, were large and piercing. Her lips were blood red and her skin a pale white. She wore a blue dress both thin and form fit, which showcased her curvy body, and long slender legs. She was the only person in the room without a weapon clearly visible on her person.
As they entered, weapons were drawn by both sides save the Night's King but the Lady of Winter raised a single, calming hand that saw the Others sheath their cold blades. Jon, Aerion and Arya did the same though their hands never left the hilts. Arya was skeptical about how this conversation could go. They are thousands of years old, what are the chances that we will even have the ability to communicate with them, let alone negotiate some sort of peace?
Arya's concerns were immediately put to rest when the woman opened her mouth and the Common Tongue left her lips, even if slightly accented, "I wonder why you are here and how you even knew to come?" She noticed the stunned expressions on her guests' faces so with a slight smirk she continued, "I have seen your kind grow from afar for thousands of years, in my boredom I took to learning your language." Her gaze fell upon Daenerys, "I did not foresee your interference in our plans. Were it not for you my war would have been over years ago and justice achieved."
Daenerys held her head high as she stepped further forward, "What you seek isn't justice but vengeance, vengeance on a people who have long since forgotten the truth of what was wrought upon you and yours."
The Lady's features darkened, "Do you think that excuses anything? This world will become our icy domain from here to the land you call Dorne as way of reprisal."
"Because of the folly of one man who thought he had the right to decide your union was inappropriate?" Jon asked quickly, "Joramun was a fool, who thought his opinions of your union were more important than the fate of a longstanding pact."
The Night's King spoke up then, his voice deep and powerful, "And yet even knowing that it was Joramun who was in the wrong, my own brother fought against us, brought the Children against us and trapped all of the Others in this place."
"He did what he thought was necessary and only after exhausting all other options. Brandon banished Joramun from the realm for his stupidity." Jon paused a moment clearly gathering his thoughts, "I am your kin as well," Jon reasoned as he gestured toward Arya, "so is she, but here we are offering you the hand of peace instead of the blade of a sword."
"You are my kin displaced by thousands of years, our blood shares nothing. I have been here for 8,000 years while the Starks have gone on." He didn't yell but his voice took on a hard edge.
"And for 8,000 years you could do little save plan your vengeance as your numbers grew ever greater." Jon said understandingly. "Though I must say, you are the only female of your kind I have ever seen, so I can't imagine your number grew that greatly." He finished indicating the Lady.
The Lady waved a hand dismissively, "Just because you haven't seen them doesn't mean they aren't here. Our city stretches deep into the mountain behind this Hall. Our women and children remain there."
"How many are you I wonder?" Daenerys questioned, returning all present to the matter at hand "Between the dead you have raised and your own kind I imagine it is many… but waning."
"Why would we give you that kind of information, you who represent the only chance of our failure?" The Lady stood for the first time. They all noted she was an exceptionally tall woman, just as tall as Aerion at least.
"Because in our experience fighting your people they are far fewer than their thrall, meaning that either you are holding them back in reserve, which seems unlikely considering you believed your conquest would be swift, or, much like the Children, you don't reproduce quickly. You might have hundreds of thousands in your thrall, millions even but dragon's fire burns hot and they fall as quickly as your snows to the heat. They come less and less in every battle and eventually their numbers will reach naught." Daenerys sounded extremely confident in her theory. The Lady faltered for only a moment but everyone noticed it.
"We will fight till the bitter end, whether that means we succeed or fail is irrelevant." The Night's King stood beside his Queen, though he too sounded less confident.
"If that is your decision…" Dany gestured to the three warriors just behind her, who made to draw their swords, "You are the leaders of the army, you command from afar and without you they will falter. No more careful planning that sees us lose thousands before you retreat to another defensible position. No your warriors, your thrall, will fight to the bitter end… and it will be their end not ours. And as much as it pains me to say it, my dragons shall burn this place to the ground and seal your women and children in the mountains. " This more than anything seemed to strike a nerve in the pair. All those brief shows of anger or surprise meant more than I ever would have thought. Seeing them like this gives a whole new perspective.
The Lady of Winter spoke slowly, "What do you propose? This was supposed to be our gloriously return, the story of ice but it seems it will end in fire."
Daenerys smiled slightly, "It need not end in either. The descendants of Joramun are in my realm now beyond what remains of the Wall where they shall remain, the Children have nearly left this world and only a handful of giants remain. This land and all land as far as the Wall shall be yours and only yours. "
The two most revered of the Others looked at each other for a long moment before together they turned to look at their guests, they're response was completely stoic, no smile upon their face no sneer, "We agree… with a specific stipulation."
Daenerys expected as much, considering they weren't in a completely superior position, "And that would be?"
"The Wall will be rebuilt and guarded on our side by my people. I will not suffer from the same mistake my father did 10,000 years ago by leaving it to your people." She started pacing everyone in the room following her movements, "I have no desire to see another man in our lands for as long as I live, and trust me it shall be far longer than any of you."
Daenerys nodded but stepped closer to her pale counterpart, " I have stipulations of my own then. You shall release the dead you hold in thrall and allow them to be burned and this deep winter you have wrought with your magics shall be lifted." The Lady did not look pleased but she nodded all the same, "Do you have any children?" The question seemed slightly odd but they responded anyway.
"A son, he is young for one of the Others." The Night's King answered cautiously.
"Then a daughter of House Targaryen shall be his bride, a true union of ice and fire." Daenerys finished to the sound of complete silence. The Lady of Winter stepped forward, towering over the smaller woman before she extended her hand.
"Under these terms we shall cease hostilities with all southern forces. I expect you to return beyond the Wall within the week at which point I shall send my people to restore the Wall we destroyed." Daenerys reached out her hand, and the cool skin of the Lady of Winter melded with the heat of the dragon's blood and both for the first time in their lives felt the heat of normal skin. When they pulled apart the Lady spoke again.
"Now go, leave this place and return to your army. You will find that my people will have retreated by the time you reach them." She made to turn away but paused, looking once more to Daenerys, "I imagine we shall speak again soon Daenerys Targaryen."
All four of the southerners turned to walk away, the three fighters just behind their Queen. Arya couldn't help but feel mildly useless in this whole thing. She had gone there with the impression she would be fighting her way through the city of the Others until they slew their leaders. But… but I suppose this is better, thousands more will survive this because of the agreement. As they exited the building she turned to look back at the mountains and in the sides she could see figures standing at the edges of what she could only assume were cave systems. They were the women and children looking down on them with those pale blue eyes.
They mounted the dragons and took to the air moments later, leaving the kingdom of ice behind. They didn't speak, any of them over the long hours between departing and reaching the southern edge of the Haunted Forest where they found the army. Slightly further north there was a portion of the Haunted Forest up in smokes from where Rhaegal had set it alight, the fires had been put out though. The snow came down slowly and the bitterness of winter had lessened noticeably. They really did have some hold over the weather of the world.
As they landed beside Rhaegal, the four dismounted and Ghost and Nymeria exited the claws of the great dragons. Aegon approached in a rush, "What happened, the Others retreated but… it was strange, they did it at the oddest moment and their thrall just… dropped dead in their wake. I tried to follow their retreat but they disappeared in the darkness."
Daenerys gestured for her nephew to calm down, "This war is over, peace terms have been reached. We shall gather the Lords and all shall be explained." She started walking, "I imagine that you are having the dead gathered?"
"Yes," Aegon responded eagerly, "I was shocked to find they abandoned their army."
"Yes I imagine you were," she hesitated a moment, "tell me of the losses."
Aegon faltered in his next step and made it clear to all that he had news that she really wouldn't like, "I am sorry to tell you that among our 3,000 casualties Ser Barristan died in the battle." Daenerys turned to look at him quickly, her eyes wet. Aegon realized she wanted a more detailed explanation, "Ser Loras threw himself between his brother and a killing blow from one of the Others, his blade shattered on contact with its weapon but before the White Walker could finish him Ser Barristan pushed him aside. The old knight killed the bastard with an obsidian dagger but not before the White Walker shoved his blade through Barristan's chest."
Daenerys took a shuddering breath as tears began falling down her cheeks, "He died honorably, defending another. I only wish that I had been able to finish my business sooner. He may not have died at all." Jon stood beside her and put an arm around her waist, a gesture she appreciated, as they continued walking through the makeshift camp.
The thousands upon thousands of dead were gathered and set alight in the stretch of open land between the Wall and the edge of the Haunted Forest. It was then that they finally learned just how many undead remained in the seemingly endless army of the dead remained under the Others command, 600,000.
Hours later, after midnight the Lords and Ladies sat in the Queen's tent once more, "This war is over," Daenerys began, "I reached an agreement with the King and Queen of the Others, the Night's King and the Lady of Winter." There were unhappy grumblings and Melisandre looked downright furious but Daenerys continued unperturbed, "Our agreement was simple, they released their hold on the undead thrall. They are granted the lands north of the Wall, which they shall rebuild. It shall be their realm and their realm alone." The two wildlings in the room looked particularly disgruntled at this, "To secure this new peace, in the future a daughter of House Targaryen shall marry into the ruling family of the Others."
Before anyone else had an opportunity to speak, Melisandre's scathing voice cut across the rest, "You allow the servants of the Great Other to not only survive but thrive here in the North?"
Daenerys scoffed, "I have heard your prophecies, I know of your Azor Ahai, your Prince that was Promised and I call it false. Your Red God is no different than the enemy you claim to fight. Was it not your God that supposedly raised Beric Dondarrion from the dead, or your God that raised Catelyn Stark? I have heard the stories of what that turned them into and it was far worse than the thrall that served the Others.
"Besides," Jon spoke up, "the Last Hero never destroyed the supposed enemy 10,000 years ago, no he treated with them and that peace lasted until men," He looked to the few wildlings in the room, "betrayed that pact."
Daenerys turned her hard, purple gaze on Melisandre, "Return to your home and tell your fellow priests I have no interest in your religion or your zealotry." Melisandre looked to Stannis pleadingly but the man lost faith in her supposed visions the moment he was forced to surrender to Daenerys at the Twins.
The Red Priestess looked back to the Queen, defeat in her eyes but also defiance, "Be glad you are the Mother of Dragons." With that she left the tent at a quick stride.
Davos sighed gaining the Queen's attention, "Beware that woman, she will not take this lightly." Arya couldn't help but agree but Melisandre's parting words made her believe that she wasn't willing to harm the Queen.
Daenerys nodded slightly before returning her attention to those gathered, "The former wildlings shall take up residence in the Gift, they will learn to farm and they will integrate themselves into my realm." She addressed both Toregg and Val, "I don't care if you do not kneel, but I will not have you risks the lives of the millions in Westeros because you are far too prideful for your own good." The Queen's voice was calm but deadly serious. The pair of wildling leaders looked outside where the dragons lay near the tent before nodding reluctantly.
Val was the one to respond, "We are few now, only 20,000, and the most volatile of us died in this war. It will not be hard to convince those who remain this is for the best."
Daenerys seemed contented with that, "If there are no other questions or comments then this meeting is over, we shall return south tomorrow morning. I would ask that each of you join me on the journey to King's Landing as I plan to call a council with the express purpose of discussing the repercussions of the many wars this country has suffered over the past five years." The Lords and Ladies filtered their way out of the tent silently Aegon last of all, until only the four who journeyed into the Land of Always Winter remained and one more. Ser Loras stayed behind staring intently at the Queen. When she stood he walked forward and kneeled before her, head bowed.
"Ser Barristan gave his life to save mine and my brother's." He looked up into her eyes, "I would serve as a member of your Queensguard so that I might protect you with the same level of loyalty as he did in his years of service."
Daenerys laid a hand on his shoulder, "Ser Loras Tyrell, I will gladly take you into my guard. Should you prove half the man Ser Barristan was in that capacity, I shall be a lucky Queen indeed." Her voice quavered slightly as she said Barristan's name.
The Knight of Flowers stood, and took up a position behind his Queen and the man that would likely someday become his King. Arya and Aerion bid farewell to the two Targaryens and made their way to their own tent. Neither could help the smiles on their faces as they entered the tent. This war was over. For better or worse, a peace had been reached with the Others and they could begin the process of healing a kingdom… among other things.