Tyrion stood atop the wall watching everyone get into their proper positions. The Unsullied being the second lines of defense and the archers on top of the wall. The dothraki cavalry lining up with their arakhs, the Northern infantry on the eastern flank and the knights of the Vale on the western. He saw his brother Jaime commanding the Arryn forces and placing them into their positions which they reluctantly listened to, Wyman Manderly commanded the Northern forces placing them into formation, Grey Worm speaking in valyrian commanded the Unsullied into formation, and Davos was to command the archers atop the wall. He could not see the army of the dead but they were there. Any warmth he felt under his furs were quickly stripped away and replaced with the complete icy coat that came with the wind.

Walking from the outer side of the wall to the inner he viewed the common folk being gathered into the high tower of Winterfell and Bran Stark being escorted into the godswood. If the Night King is coming for him it would be best he be away from the common folk. He turned and walked back towards the front side of the wall to observe the field once again.

"Ser Davos Seaworth, survivor of the Battle of the Blackwater and the Battle of the Bastards with barely any combat training or experience. Could this battle be your undoing?" Tyrion questioned raising an eyebrow.

"I suppose we'll find out, though luck has favoured me so far." He chuckled hollowly. Though there was no humour behind it, how could there be with what they were about to face.

"I survived the Battle of the Green Fork, the Battle of the Blackwater, and the Liberation of Slaver's Bay." Tyrion said. "And I have even less combat experience than you."

"Maybe we're just lucky fools who charge into battles we're not prepared for." Davos responded.

"Well luck has favoured us so far." Tyrion said. "Perhaps it hasn't run out just yet."

"Or perhaps it has." Davos responded. They both simultaneously sighed looking out over the open field. As ready as they'll ever be for what was to come.

XXXX

Theon wheeled Bran through the gates of the godswood and placed him within arms length of the weirwood tree. Theon then began directing his men around in a circle encompassing the weirwood tree. Once finished he turned around to Bran. "Bran, whatever happens tonight I just want you to know that I'm sorry." he said.

Bran turned his head and looked at him as emotionless as ever. "It does not matter what you did, what matters is that you are here now, where you belong, home." He responded. While emotionless his words affected Theon, a sudden weight was lifted from his shoulders but not all of it. It wouldn't be gone until he fulfilled his promise to protect him, and he would do that. He had to.

XXXX

Jon lead a team of Brienne, Jorah, Sandor, Beric, and much to his reluctance, Arya. Daenerys came to a stop and closed her eyes to summon her dragons. After a few moments roars filled the air as Drogon and Rhaegal gracefully landed in front of them. Everyone took a step back except for Jon and Daenerys.

"Well, get on." She said motioning for everyone to follow her which everyone did with much reluctance. Once they took off Jon could see the entire field from up in the sky. Nobody was scrambling anymore to get in formation as they were all ready. He looked over to the side the army of the dead were approaching from and couldn't quite distinguish them but the giant looming shadow was incredibly visible. The dragons brought them to a clifftop where they wouldn't be seen and they would be able to overlook the battlefield.

Before Jon could join the rest of his team Daenerys took hold of his hand. "This is where I leave you." she said with concern in her eyes.

Jon put his hand around her hip pulling her closer. "Be careful up there." He said before placing a kiss to her lips. Of course he cared about the news he'd received but he's not sure if he'll ever see her again. If they survive then that's another matter entirely but right now it doesn't matter.

"I'll see you at the end of this." She whispered. "Your queen commands you to survive." With that she mounted Drogon looking back at Jon before taking off.

Finally Jon went over to join the rest of his team standing next to Sandor. "Did you fuck her before the battle?"

Jon rolled his head back and exhaled audibly. "No." he answered annoyed.

"Dumb shit." Sandor answered quickly before walking off to give him and his sister a moment alone. He bent down a little to match her height and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't do anything to crazy, this isn't anything you were trained for." He said.

"I don't think anyone was trained for this." she answered calmly without any nervousness in her voice whatsoever. But she quickly pulled Jon into a tight hug before letting him go and turning her attention back to the field. "Be careful." she said.

"I'm supposed to tell you that." He smiled. This time Beric pulled him aside a little down bit further away from the ledge.

"I don't want the White Walkers to see this and give away our position." He answered before pulling out his sword and motioning for Jon to do the same. "It's going to be dark down there and I thought you would want to know my little trick." he said.

He took Jon's hand and placed it around the blade of Longclaw, cutting it. He then placed his hand around the sword and said some inaudible prayer before his blade burst into flames. "It will ignite whenever you please." he said igniting his own sword and then shoving it into the snow to put out the flames, Jon doing the same. "Thank you Beric." Beric gave a smile and a nod before they made their way back to the cliffside.

XXXX

Now that Tyrion had left the battlements Davos stood up there alone and watched the armies waiting patiently for a signal to attack. Out of the darkness and somehow unnoticed by the army of the dead rode a lone rider sporting a red cloak. Once the rider removed her hood Davos' breath completely departed his lungs at seeing Melisandre. The woman he promised he would execute himself if he ever saw again. She approached the dothraki cavalry speaking to them in their tongue and they all rose their swords. She grabbed the one closest to her and began speaking in valyrian. After some seconds the arakh she was gripping burst into flames, and then the next, and the next and then every arakh was set ablaze. She rode towards the gates looking up expectantly. Davos hesitated for a moment.

"Open the gates!" Davos shouted. The shear anger pulsing through his veins at this moment surprised even him. Now getting closer to her he didn't even want to behead her, just stab her then and there. He began to reach for his sword when she stopped him.

"There's no need for that Ser Davos, I'll be dead before the dawn."

Even though Davos was so ready and willing something within him stopped himself from acting any further. It surprised him especially when he stepped to the side and allowed her to pass. What are you doing? She's right there! Kill her! But he didn't some part of him knew they needed her even if he didn't want to admit it.

Once he returned to the battlements he saw the could just faintly see that the dead were charging them in a tidal wave of resurrected bodies. The dothraki began to charge screaming their war cries, while the North and Vale forces started charging them from the sides. When the two armies made contact it was terrifying. The dead swarmed over them slitting throats and stabbing erratically doing anything to kill anything that moved. Davos took a deep breath before commanding the archers. Huge waves of flaming dragonglass arrows flew overhead and and multiple dead fell after contact. Repeatedly and repeatedly they fired the arrows but it didn't seem to make enough of a difference as the armies were still getting almost completely run over and the Unsullied were struggling to catch the stragglers. Davos prayed to every god he knew, old, new, the seven, lord of light, anything. He prayed that Tyrion was wrong, that this battle wouldn't be his undoing.

XXXX

Tyrion looked out the window as the battle raged outside. He looked back in the room, he was amongst the rest of the people who were believed to be of no help at all. Sansa, Varys, Missandei, even Ghost, and the red priestess who visited them on Dragonstone. He couldn't help but feel that he could be of use out there. That they were wrong in assuming he was better suited to help after the war then during. If the previous events of the war against Cersei were any indication it's that he doesn't know his sister like he thought he did. "I should be out there." He said turning around to sit back down.

"And what difference could you possibly make against the army of the dead," Varys scoffed.

"Remember when I charged through the mud gate? That made a difference." Tyrion didn't know what it was but he knew if he were out there he would catch something others wouldn't, some sort of significant detail, some clue to end it all.

"So you think you charging through a gate is going to win the battle?" Varys questioned.

"No but I caught that detail, I knew we needed to charge through the mud gate, what if I catch a detail and I can't tell anyone?" Tyrion said.

"You would die before you caught any details Tyrion that's why you're here," Sansa interrupted. "That's why we're all here, we're no use out there."

Tyrion took a deep breath before collecting his thoughts and sitting down. "Do you ever have second thoughts about us?" Tyrion said sarcastically.

"Oh yes I missed you so much I would stay up nights just thinking about you." Sansa replied with equal sarcasm.

Tyrion chuckled at her comment happy to see she wasn't as miserable as she was those days in King's Landing. "If it's any consolation, you were the best of them." She said with a more serious tone. "I don't think it was much of a competition."

Tyrion chuckled. "But even if I enjoyed our marriage I wouldn't have second thoughts, you're allied with this Dragon Queen." She scoffed.

Tyrion tilted his head back and sighed. But before he could say anything Missandei interjected. "She's out there risking everything and all you are capable of is complaining?" Missandei said.

"Does she not realize this is her fight too? Why does she demand that we aid her in her war afterwards?" Sansa argued. "Plus I've seen Jon around her, I can tell she's manipulating him." Sansa snarled.

Tyrion interjected this time. "Believe me I spent a fortnight with them on the boat to White Harbor and those two got rather annoying at some points but I can confirm that the feelings are mutual." Tyrion argued. Sansa turned her head away and huffed. "Even still you shouldn't speak ill of someone who is currently risking their life to protect your home." he finished. The room finally settled into silence as they were brought back to the reality of the battle raging on outside.

XXXX

They continued to wait on their position on the cliffs until they saw the White Walkers sitting at the back of the field each on their horses. Jon drew his sword and the rest of them followed with Dragonglass and valyrian steel. Arya had fashioned hers into a spear tip along with a dragonglass tip on the other end. They all began moving towards the White Walkers and they each turned their heads to the six of them as if they had been expecting their arrival. They kept moving but the White Walkers didn't move at all, they just kept staring. Eventually they each drew spears and swords as they dismounted from their horses. There were twelve in total meaning the odds were greatly stacked against Jon and the others. Jon ignited his sword surprising the others around him but they didn't linger on it for too long turning their attention back to the White Walkers in front of them. Jon flourished his sword before they began charging them while the White Walkers sat back and stood waiting for them.
When Jon, Arya, Brienne, and Jorah collided with the ice spears the collision wrang throughout the field as the battle continued.
Arya's superior agility allowed for her to take down one of them with ease.
Jon was in the midst of fighting off two on each side of him.
He was able to quickly stab one as it shattered into pieces of ice.
He was about to get taken down by the other one before Jorah stabbed it in the back, shattering it.

"JON!" before Jon could thank Jorah he saw Arya just barely fighting off three.
He and Brienne rushed to her side as they both took one on individually, killing two of them as Arya killed the other. Jon smiled at his sister and he saw the beginnings of a smile that quickly turned into a scream.

"JON BEHIND YOU!" He turned around quickly to see a spear hurtling towards him, far too close for him to dodge. It made a terrible sound when it impacted flesh, as he flinched and closed his eyes. He heard the dripping of blood on the white snow but felt no pain. He opened his eyes seeing it wasn't him who had been pierced but Beric who jumped in front of the spear. He fell to his knees as Jon let him down, but there was no time to mourn his fallen comrade as there were still six White Walkers left standing. He looked at them with anger in his eyes as he gripped Longclaw once again and ignited it. He looked to his left and everyone was lined up with their swords ready to fight all looking to Jon before they charged. He spun his sword and gave a nod, with that they all charged forward to finish them off.

"FALL BACK!" they screamed. The gates opened to allow for the men outside to rush into the walls as the dead gained more ground and began swarming the walls, piling atop each other creating a tower of bodies to climb. The archers had to eventually abandon their bows and resort to the use of dragonglass swords. Even though many of the dead suddenly collapsed it still wasn't enough to even the numbers. Once Jaime made it through the gates he immediately climbed up the walls to keep the dead from reaching the top. He saw Davos just barely keeping the dead off of him and Samwell Tarly struggling with even one. Jaime ran over to Davos and fought the remaining dead off of him. He then grabbed him by his breastplate. "We need more men in the godswood! Bran can't die before the Night King reveals himself!" Davos gave a nod before stabbing a wight approaching from behind. Jaime turned around to continue fighting and Davos began ordering men into the godswood.

"WE NEED MEN IN THE GODSW-" but his words are cut short as the gates are breached by a giant. The giant begins running through Winterfell stomping and smacking anyone in sight including Lyanna Mormont. But the little bear is a fighter. She rises to her feet screaming as she charges the giant. On the outside she seems fearless but in reality fear is what's driving her. Not fear for her life but fear for the lives that will be lost of that giant stays standing. The giant hears her screams and picks her up in one hand and begins crushing her and slowly bringing her closer to her face. As he squeezes her armour crumbles around her and her bones begin to break in. But Lyanna's a fighter and she won't die without a fight. With one arm free she draws her dragonglass sword and plunges it into the giants eye. The giant lets out a scream before collapsing into pieces as the life from Lyanna's eyes slowly fades.

XXXX

Daenerys watched from dragonback as both battles unfolded before her. Jon and his team fought the White Walkers and she was just barely able to distinguish him wielding a flaming sword. She didn't even know he could ignite his sword but she knew it was him by the way he swung Longclaw. When she looked to her left she could see the battle rage on. The wights had breached their armies and had began entering the castle. You need to kill Viserion, she told herself. Thousands will die if Viserion is still flying. But the screams. Even from atop her perch she could hear the screams of people being slaughtered within the walls. Thousands will die if you do nothing. Daenerys decided to make the quick decision to send Rhaegal to burn the wights, leaving her with just Drogon to fight Viserion, putting her at a slight disadvantage. But once Rhaegal began burning wights she felt better. While the screams were still ever so present they lessened and the armies had a stronger chance at fending off the wights. Then she hears it. As if he was waiting for exactly that, the ever so familiar screech envelops the air and she can just barely see the shadow of a great beast flying above the clouds. With fury in her eyes Daenerys commands Drogon to ascend into the clouds so they can bring peace to her child and his brother.

Once Daenerys reaches the clouds it was a beautiful sight. The moonlight reflecting off the clouds giving the night an amazing glow. If only she could've seen it under different circumstances because the sight before her was anything but pleasant. She flew in place before Viserion with the Night King mounted on his back staring at her with and icy cold stare while Daenerys stared back with fire in her eyes. "Dracarys!" she screamed as Drogon let loose his flames and Viserion did the same. The orange and blue flames collided and erupted the sky into a dance as the blue flames licked Daenerys' skin while both dragons battled for dominance. Suddenly the blue flames stop bursting and Viserion comes charging through the flames spewed by his brother and they intangle in close range combat. Biting, scratching, clawing. Both dragons tear at each other as Daenerys struggles to hold on and the Night King attempts to aim his spear. His attempts are inconsequential as Drogon knocks him of Viserion's back with his tail and then tears a hole in his wing sending him plummeting to the ground along with his rider. Daenerys commands Drogon beneath the clouds and sees the Night King landed amongst forest and she won't be able to find him. She decides it be best to wait for him to reemerge and flies Drogon back to Winterfell to help fight off the wights.

XXXX

They finally had the final White Walker surrounded. Each and everyone of them was battered, beaten, and broken but they were able to kill every single one of them minus the one remaining. He spun in a circle looking at them all and Sandor was the first to attack but this white walker was quicker than the other ones as he dodged his attack followed by Brienne's. But there were simply too many and he eventually shattered into pieces when Sandor took a final swing. They looked back at the army of the dead which was now being set aflame by Drogon meaning that Daenerys must have defeated Viserion. But even though they just killed all the White Walkers the wights still greatly outnumbered them.

"Let's go back now! Head to the godswood!" Jon screamed as they began running back to Winterfell. Jon stopped suddenly as he heard a dragon screech in the air, he looked up and saw a green scaled dragon descending and then landing in front of him. The rest of the group stopped as well looking on as Jon slowly approaches Rhaegal ungloving his hand and holding it out. Rhaegal allowed him to quickly stroke him before Jon pulled away to focus on getting back to Winterfell. As if Rhaegal knew that's what he wanted he lowered his shoulder in a way as if asking him to mount so they can fly back to Winterfell. Jon took the hint and began hesitantly mounting onto his back. Once he was comfortable and gripping on tight he began ushering people on. But without warning, Rhaegal took to the skies, leaving the rest of the group behind. Jon tried guiding him back but looked down and saw the wights viciously murdering everyone in sight. Daenerys had told him what words she said to command her dragons and he screamed them at the top of his lungs.

"Dracarys!" Jon felt a sudden surge of power course through his veins as Rhaegal began burning them away. He saw the wights being launched into the air by the impact of the flames.

That feeling is stripped from him quickly however as he's almost completely knocked off Rhaegal's back when another dragon comes in, clamping down hard on Rhaegal's neck as he screeches in pain. He looked and saw Viserion with the Night King on his back. Jon looks to Viserion's wing to see a large portion of it torn through which was keeping him off balance. Rhaegal instinctively targets the wing, tearing it further but not before having his wing torn through as well sending him plummeting to the ground along with Jon. Viserion crashes on top of the wall sending it crumbling down, creating a greater opening.

Jon rises to his feet, clutching his leg. He looks to Rhaegal seeing him on the ground. Not dead but to injured to continue fighting.

"I've got things from here, you go somewhere safe." He said. Jon didn't know if he could understand him but he seemingly did as he struggled to fly off. He turned his attention back to the Night King. He had his back turned and was walking towards Winterfell. Jon took the opportunity to draw his sword and began charging him from behind. But the Night King sensed his presence and turned around to face Jon. He stopped in his tracks, glaring at him angrily as the Night King gave him the same blank stare as he always had. He then saw him begin moving his arms in a slow upwards movement. Jon knew what that meant, he knew that along with the raising of arms came the raising of the dead. Jon then started into a sprint to get to the Night King before he could raise his arms in time. Halfway there and he realised that it would be too late by the time he reached him but he had to try. Unfortunately he was right, he was too late once he reached him he had raised wights all around him. The dead within the walls were completely raised as well. Now all the losses the Night King had suffered had just been added right back to his army. Jon ignited his sword and began cutting through wights trying to reach the Night King but it was no use as he was already beginning to enter the castle walls.

Jon swung tirelessly at the dead swarming him. Blocking, dodging, and striking. But it wasn't enough and there was simply too many of them. He knew deep down that this was how it ended and he hated the Lord of Light more than ever right then and there. Why bring me back? He thought to himself. How did I possibly make a difference? However the Lord of Light answered as flames erupted around him, killing all the wights surrounding him. He turned his attention behind him to see Daenerys and Drogon setting the wights into flames.

"Get on! I'll bring you to the godswood!" She screamed. Jon ran to Drogon and climbed atop his back. He wrapped his arms around Daenerys tightly from behind before she took off.

"Thank you."

XXXX

Arya just made it back to Winterfell to see that it was now completely overrun with wights. She did her best to fight them off but eventually it felt like no use. Every wight that came for her fell but they continued backing her up into the wall until she was barely keeping them from scratching and slicing. She stabbed them through the head, the stomach, the arm, and they fell and fell but there were far too many. Before she could succumb to the wights a hammer smashes one head, then another, then another. Gendry lifted her back to her feet and they fought together back to back. Finally they were beginning to push back as Gendry smashed in their skulls while Arya poked them full of holes.

Once she was done with the wights on her side she turned around to help Gendry on his side. But she turned around to the horrible sound of a blade piercing flesh. He was stabbed through the hip but continued fighting, sloppier now. Arya tried her best but she couldn't keep them off Gendry, he over-swung far too much and the weight of his hammer greatly hindered his agility coupled with his wounds. Arya desperately tried to help him but one final stab was dealt and he fell to his knees unable to continue fighting while Arya continued slicing away. Eventually she was able to kill enough to gain time and she rushed to Gendry's side. She held him in her arms as tears threatened to pour away at seeing him struggle to speak. Any words he attempted to mutter we're muffled by the blood spilling out of his mouth. Arya couldn't hold back the tears anymore as they began spilling over his face. He seemed to be attempting to raise his head along with his hand. She followed his arm and his gaze to see what he was pointing at. A huge hoard of wights were charging towards her, far too many for her to kill. She turned back to him as he finally was able to get past the blood filling his mouth as he said his final word. "Run."

She didn't want to, she tried to stay but he was gone. The life faded from his eyes and his grip on her loosened. She tried to stay with him but that was no longer an option as the dead were about to swarm her. She took off running towards the inside of the castle in hopes of losing them throughout the intricate halls of Winterfell. Before she can reach the door wights block it off surrounding her and forcing her to fight. She pulls apart her double-bladed staff and started spinning in circles, slashing, stabbing, striking, cutting everything that came near her but it was far too much. She got punched, scratched, sliced, stabbed, and she prepared to welcome the release of death. But not without a fight, if these things are gonna be the things to kill her. They'll need to earn it.

A sudden howl halts the commotion around her and the wights all turn their attention behind her. She turns and sees Sandor standing amongst a pack of wolves, with a giant wolf matching his height. Nymeria. He let out a blood curdling scream and charged the crowd of wights. He sliced through the crowd from the outside while Arya took them from the inside. While the wolves helped they were no match for the wights and slowly but surely they each fell one by one. Arya faced off against another hord and when it seemed hopeless, Nymeria grabbed a wight, tearing it limb from limb. They stood back to back, Nymeria growling and Arya spinning her staff. But the wights were cleared spare a few.

"Sandor!" she screamed. He was hacking away at a wight flat on its back. He turned and ran towards her pulling into a strange embrace as if he didn't know how to hug anyone. "Gendry's dead! He's gone!" she screamed into his stomach. He pulled her away to stare into her face.

"But you're not!" he screamed. He looked ahead to see more wights coming. "Hey! What do we say to your god huh?! What do we say to the god of death?!"

She calmed as the memories of Syrio came flooding back. "Not today." she said.

"You're damn fucking right. Not today!" He bellowed as they pulled away from their embrace and readied to fight once again.

XXXX

She stared out the window at the chaos enveloping in the courtyard of Winterfell. Sansa felt a tear trickle down her cheek looking on feeling as helpless as she did in King's Landing. She took a deep breath and turned around to face Melisandre, the red priestess Jon banished for burning a child. "Why are you back?" she asked accusingly. "Because the lord wills me to be here." she replied.

"Normally when people get banished they don't come back." Sansa responded, annoyed.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't need to be."

XXXX

Jon manoeuvred through the yard of Winterfell, dodging and slicing wights as he ran on his way. "Jon!" he turned at the scream of his name and saw Sam getting piled on by wights. He hesitated for a moment, wanting to stop and help his friend but he kept moving. He needed to get to the godswood and help his brother. As he looked around he saw more familiar faces desperately fighting. Brienne, Podrick, Jaime, and Davos were backed into a corner just barely keeping the wights at bay while, Grey Worm fighting with his spear, and Arya, Sandor, and a giant wolf. He questioned it for a second but ignored it and kept going. He continued slashing wights on his path seeing a rope keeping a gate up he darts straight towards it, cutting it and closing the gate behind him now giving a clearer path spare a few wights. He turned the corner and saw the entrance to the godswood.

He was thrown into a sprint, completely ignoring everyone around him. But what stopped him was the roar he heard so many times that night. Viserion crawled into the courtyard spewing blue fire in all directions, Jon moved quickly back into the hall away from the fire. The flames licked his sides giving him slight burns but he barely noticed them with the adrenaline coursing through him. Viserion eventually moved on to burning other soldiers. Jon took the opportunity to attempt to get to the godswood. He made it about halfway through the courtyard before he was stopped once again by the blue flames blazing from within Viserion. He appeared to be very weakened. A giant tear in his left wing, half his jaw missing, and multiple holes from the fight in the skies. Jon was only able to get quick glimpses before he had to duck his head behind cover again to avoid getting his head singed. Jon was now the only one left in the courtyard and Viserion was now entirely focused on him. He slowly stalked towards the cover Jon was hiding behind and Jon felt the end fast approaching. He then heard sudden footsteps pittering across the tiles of the rooftops. He only caught a quick glimpse before his cover was blasted with flames once more. "Jon!" she heard the yell of Arya and knew she was the one on the rooftops. Viserion's fire blasts halted and he turned his attention to Jon's sister who was out in the open with no cover. She might've been distracting Viserion to allow Jon to run to the godswood but he wouldn't let his sister die for him, not today. He stood up from his cover and stood before Viserion screaming at the top of his lungs to keep his attention away from Arya. Viserion took the bait and turned right back to Jon, raising his head as blue flames generated within his mouth. He was ready to blast him and Arya seized the opportunity to leap from the rooftops. She whipped out her valyrian steel dagger and shoved it through Viserion's eye. His body collapsed to the ground, disintegrating until all that was left was bone.

Jon turned to look at his sister in complete shock.

"We need to get to Bran!" She screamed stumbling back to her feet.

"No! I'll go, you get evacuate the everyone else!"

Arya hesitated but nodded and ran in the opposite direction as Jon ran towards the godswood.

XXXX

It wasn't long before the godswood became almost completely swarmed and Theon was now the only ironborn soldier left standing. The wights had grown less by the time the last ironborn warrior fell. Theon was able to take them down as his muscles ached and his ribs felt broken from the abuse he suffered trying to keep Bran alive before the Night King arrived. He saw the undead dragon crawling into the courtyard of Winterfell just above the wall of the godswood. He paid little attention to it as another wave of wights came charging in. He looked ahead at the hoard charging towards him and knew he failed. He turned back to Bran to give him a solemn look, a silent apology. He turned back gripping his staff so strongly he thought it might snap.

The hoard charged him and he was ready to give his life to fight a hopeless fight. Before the first wight reached him a sword swung at it. While he couldn't get a clear view of who it was he recognized the sword he was wielding and the hilt. He had been gifted that sword earlier that night and he saw Jorah Mormont there fighting alongside him. They were both battered, beaten, and stabbed but they somehow continued fighting. A stab in Theon's ribs brings him to one knee but he continues fighting from there, Jorah in front of him to help. Theon finds himself nearly physically incapable of fighting and starts crawling back towards the weirwood tree for support. Bran eyes him emotionless as ever. "You have done all you can Theon." he said.

Theon nodded in disagreeance. He wasn't done, he couldn't be done. Not until he knew Bran was safe. Not until he knew he didn't fail. "I'm not done yet." he struggled to say. Bran nodded in understanding.

"You're a good man, thank you." They were once again simple words but they once again gave Theon some hidden strength to fight as he rose to his feet. As he rose his head he saw two wights charging towards Bran from behind. He leaped ahead and blocked the first one but was stabbed through the gut by the second one. He stabbed both of them before he collapsed to his side turning around back to Bran. He should be thinking he failed. That it was all pointless in the end. That just like his entire life he couldn't make a difference. But some part of him told him he did, that his efforts weren't for nothing and he didn't fail. He made a difference and somehow he could die in peace.

XXXX

As Theon Greyjoy died behind him, Jorah turned and cut down the last of the wights. He was on one knee, tired from fighting and hurt from the cuts. He looked up as he was surrounded by wights all staring at him with their blue eyes. But those weren't the blue eyes that haunted him, the blue eyes that terrified him were the eyes plastered over the face of a White Walker. He wasn't like the other ones. He didn't have long flowing hair, he had no hair at all and had thorns sticking out of his head as if it were a crown. The Night King. This was the one whom Jon had described. The one who if he fell would end the war and end the wights along with the White Walkers. Jorah knew what he had to do even if he was completely surrounded he had to find a way to kill the Night King. He rose to his feet carried by an unknown strength and took his stance. The Night King advanced while the wights did not. He drew his sword and stood there motionless, not taking a stance and having his sword remain at his side. It was to Jorah to make the first move, so he did. The way the Night King fought was strange, he didn't once move his feet or move his head to dodge, he just blocked every single attack Jorah threw at him. Jorah swung in every way he knew hoping one attack would land but he couldn't get past the Night King's sword of ice. But then he saw it, an opening. He hit the Night King's sword away and he struck him on the side.

'It's over.' Jorah thought 'It's finally over.' But he didn't smile with relief. Because he didn't hear it. He didn't hear the shatter that he heard in the field when fighting the other White Walkers. He didn't see the ground riddled with the thousand shards of ice, only a few shards from the Night King's armour. He rose his eyes to see the Night King still standing there, unmoving and unbroken. Jorah looked to his sword, he clearly struck the Night King. But he didn't shatter. Jorah removed his sword and struck again. This time the Night King didn't move to block, he just stood there. Jorah tried once more and it was no use, he couldn't kill him. But he kept trying, striking him in everyplace on his body hoping some place would eventually make him shatter. But he never did. Once he attempted to strike the Night King's chest that was when he put an end to this game and he stabbed Jorah through the stomach. Jorah fell to the ground now finally unable to move. He stared up at the Night King as he stared back at him coughing up blood. His last thoughts as he died were of the woman he loved. Conquer the world Daenerys. he thought as he died. I wish I could be there to see it.

XXXX

The Night King slowly stalked up to the Three-Eyed Raven. He sat there not moving, not turning his head to look at him. His steps were slow, the only sounds being the crunch of snow beneath his feet and the crackling of the fire burning down the forest. His steps came to a halt and he stared down at Bran. Bran finally turned his head to look up at him, staring at him unintimidated. They stood there for a few more seconds before the Night King reached out his hand and placed his fingers on Bran's forehead. Bran's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he absorbed it all. They stood there for near a minute before the Night King pulled away, Bran's eyes still rolled into the back of his head. Flames erupted around them as Drogon descended into the godswood. Daenerys slid off Drogon's back and angrily stared at the Night King as he stared back at her. But she quickly broke the gaze as she grabbed Bran and flew off. The Night King walked away as his army followed suit.

"WE NEED TO LEAVE!" Jon screamed. The rest of the army ran through the holes in the walls and sprinted away as fast as they could. The army of the dead had just exited the godswood and was now hot on their tail. He saw Arya with Sansa, Tyrion, and the rest running behind her. As Jon ran he saw a familiar face, the only one walking in the opposite direction. He recognized the red cloak and the red gem chained around her neck. He grabbed her arm to stop her. "Melisandre! We need to leave!" he screamed. But she just gave him a nod.

"You do." She said. He didn't know why but he let go of her and allowed her to continue walking. Drogon landed in front of him.

"Get on!" Daenerys screamed and he mounted Drogon taking one last look before they took off. Melisandre walked towards the oncoming hoard screaming prayers as she unhooked her necklace and her true form started to take. She then came to a stop as she slammed the gem to the ground, shattering it. A giant wall of fire emerged, as tall as the wall of ice. And almost just as long. She succumbed to the loss of the gem. Everyone looked back briefly before running away once more. She allowed them to escape but it didn't matter. With the dead raised from the fallen at Winterfell the Night King's numbers barely depleted while the livings' numbers were severely lessened. They lost.