Here we are then, the first chapter of this story's version of the Long Night! I've had a lot of fun writing these chapters, though we will be saying goodbye to some important characters as is normal for me writing this fight… I'll get right into it as well and won't go on for a while here.

I own nothing but the OC's. All actual characters are the property of HBO and/or George R R Martin.

Amidst the noise of shouting orders and marching men, Jon Snow stood atop the East Gate silently with his former Night's Watch brothers. He could see the swirling ice storms in the far distance, lit up by the moonlight. Closer to the castle was the line of mounted White Walkers, though the dead were nowhere to be seen.

"For fuck's sake." He heard Edd curse. "What are you doing here?"

Jon turned to see that they had been joined by Sam, and Jon found himself agreeing with the Valeman. Sam however frowned. "I'm fighting with my brothers." He argued.

"You'd be of better use in the Crypts, Tarly." Jaime Lannister retorted.

Sam took offence to that however, turning on his Lord Commander and frowning. "I'll have you know I was the first man in 8,000 years to kill a White Walker. I killed a Thenn at Castle Black. I…"

"Still shit yourself at the thought of what is coming for us." Jon said, as kindly as possible, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Unless Gilly is in danger, and then you lose all fear. Go to her, protect her and Little Sam, protect Sansa and Rickon…" He trailed off, before adding one more name. "Protect Lady Stark."

"That's an order, Tarly." Jaime said firmly. "Go to the Crypts. If we all die out here and you are the last of us… you are the 1000th Lord Commander."

Sam gulped, looking pleadingly with Jon, but the dark-haired man just shook his head. "You'll do more good in there than out here." He insisted.

Sam nodded briskly, before turning back and descending down the stairs, giving Jon time to look back out to the distant treeline. Nothing had moved, but he could hear the noise beginning to die down in the castle below. It was Grenn that said the obvious. "Everyone is in position. We should move."

Nodding, Jon agreed. The four former brothers all hugged one another before getting ready to move, with Jaime Lannister getting the last words in. "Try not to die." He told them all.

Jon smirked as he descended the stairs himself. Given that he wasn't on dragon back it made sense that he took position on the walls facing eastwards alongside Robb and the Glenmore's, whilst Ygritte was further along leading the Wildling archers. He looked over to her position as he walked along the battlements, but couldn't see his wife anywhere.

He joined Robb as the Lord of Winterfell was giving his final instructions. "… make your arrows count! We don't know the numbers we are facing, but Dragonglass will kill them for good, so hit your marks and reload quickly…" Robb spotted Jon then and his face fell. "What are you doing here?"

"Rhaegal is too far." Jon insisted, feeling the faint link in his mind. "There's no time. I may as well be here, helping."

Robb frowned in annoyance, but he nodded nonetheless. "Pick up a bow." He ordered, and Jon did as he was told, moving into a crenel and taking watch. Beneath him were two large moats surrounding both the castle and thousands of Northmen and Free Folk. He could see Mance Rayder and the Greatjon both barking our orders to their men before it all fell silent, and the waiting game began.

"Tell me if they move." Robb said quietly. "Your eyes are better than mine."

Jon nodded, keeping his eyes firmly on the Night King in the middle. He made sure to focus on his breathing, flexing his hands on the bow to keep the feeling in them. After a couple of minutes however he noticed the slight movement of the Night King's head, and immediately told Robb.

"Right." Robb said, taking a deep breath. He began to whisper out a prayer that was just out of earshot for Jon to hear, but his focus was soon on the distance. The darkness had grown and now the White Walkers were out of sight, but even at that distance he could see masses of movement, and the noise began to grow as the guttural cries of the dead sounded over the plains outside Winterfell. Robb had clearly heard it too, as he cried out. "LIGHT THE OUTER MOAT!"

A dozen flaming arrows flew from the Winterfell gates and collided into the oiled Dragonglass barricades that covered the deep outer trench, and the flames shot up 12 feet into the sky. Jon breathed out a little easier at the sight of the roaring fire spreading all around the castle, though it also lit up the numbers that they were facing as they could only watch thousands upon thousands of Wights charging at them. Even from his angle he could see Wildlings, Night's Watchmen and Northmen all in various states of decay running towards Winterfell in a mindless horde. He gripped his bow so tightly that he knew his knuckles were pale underneath his gloves, but as soon as the Wight's collided with the flaming trench, only to die a quick second death as the Dragonglass impaled them, or a more ear splitting one if they collided with the flames and their final moments were nothing but writhing in the fires.

Some around Jon cheered, but Jon kept silent as fewer Wight's were rushing needlessly into the flames, and instead they simply began to stop a few feet away from the trench, allowing time for Winterfell to be surrounded by the dead.

Away from the flames and the cheers, the Crypts of Winterfell had fallen silent since the arrival of Samwell Tarly. All of those without combat ability had been invited down there with Catelyn Stark, defended only by a small number of Robb's soldiers and the four Direwolves, and most were sat down holding their loved ones tightly in fear of what would come. Catelyn, however, was too busy staring up at her husband's stone effigy. The revelation from earlier had been soul destroying as she had learned that the man she had loved so dearly for so long had lied to her for all that time. Despite understanding Ned's reasoning, she couldn't help but feel completely betrayed, and she was noticeably quiet.

It was Sansa who was the one to notice, after the girl had been good at calming the rest of those hiding she had made her way over to Cat and whispered quietly. "I miss him too."

Cat smiled sadly. Losing Ned in the way that she had was something she knew she would never get over. "He would be so proud of all of you." She replied softly. "You especially, for being so calm despite what is happening..."

Sansa's face didn't betray any emotion as she too looked up at Ned Stark's statue. "I owe it to him." She said softly. "When the snows fall and the white winds blow…"

It was a phrase Catelyn had heard many a time after she had arrived at Winterfell. The first time she had heard it was after she had plucked up the courage to request that Jon Snow be sent away. Ned had outright refused her, stating that with the boy being raised at Winterfell he and Robb would grow up as fierce allies, dismissing the Blackfyre complaint as Southern follies. "We are different in the North. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Jon is a part of Robb's pack now, and they will be stronger together." He had said.

"The pack survives…" Catelyn repeated as Sansa also spoke the same words. "Your Father's words."

Nodding, Sansa smiled up at the statue now sadly. "I didn't understand them until Joffrey." She explained. "Now I understand them perfectly. We are a family, and families stick together no matter what."

At those words Catelyn unwillingly darted her eyes over to Lyanna Stark's statue, the truth of the last 25 years seared in her mind. She thought back on her childhood, overhearing an argument between her Father and Uncle. They had been arguing for the thousandth time about Brynden not accepting a marriage, and her Father had called him up on plaguing them with his bastards. The notion had stuck, stabbed into her further by her lessons with the Septa and Maester until the very thought of Jon Snow had led to deep fear within her. Now she knew it was all unfounded, and a greater destiny had been placed at the bastards… no, not a bastard. She sighed audibly, with Sansa noticing once more.

"You seem troubled… but not by the fighting." Sansa questioned. "What is it?"

Seeing no reason to keep it to herself, Catelyn shifted closer to her daughter as she watched Rickon down the corridor gripping his Dragonglass dagger tightly. "I learned a terrible secret today." She whispered so that barely a sound left her lips. "Jon… he isn't your Father's son." She noticed Sansa frown and begin the argument she had had with Robb and Arya a hundred times, so she continued quickly. "He is Lyanna's son… your Aunt Lyanna and Rhaegar Targaryen."

Her daughter's eyes were wide open in sheer surprise. "Jon is…"

"They wed." Catelyn said, her emotions threatening to overcome her. "He is a Targaryen, in blood and name."

Once more Sansa's face showed visible surprise as she began to digest the information. "That's why he was brooding…" She began to talk to herself. "He's struggling with it… wondering who he is when he's only ever wanted to be one of us…" She looked at Cat then, a softness the elder Tully wasn't expecting. "And you feel guilty."

"Of course I do." Cat whispered, slightly harsher than intended. "I feared for all of my children's lives for so long because of the history of certain bastards… all I ever wanted to do was protect you."

"Jon isn't like that." Sansa admitted. "It took me a long time to voice it, but he has never been like that."

Catelyn's old prejudice was rearing again. "Neither was Daemon Blackfyre by all accounts… until he was."

Sansa chuckled. "History doesn't always repeat, Mother. And Jon is who he has always been. Kind, loyal, and a true Stark. If he is called Snow or Targaryen, that's not who he is in his heart."

The idea of being lectured to by her daughter was one that brought a smile to Cat's lips as she reached out and caressed Sansa's cheeks. "You are so wise." She said softly. "I sometimes forget how old you are now, but you have grown into a fine young lady, Sansa. Kinder than I have ever been, despite everything."

Sansa didn't react. "We are forged by our experiences." She said calmly, looking back down at the gathered people in the crypts, most of whom had young children with them. "I only hope that kindness will be one thing that survives this fight."

Cat could only agree, knowing that Westeros would be a changed place once she left the crypts. She only hoped that she could have the opportunity to change with it.

Jon's eyes had remained firmly glued to the Night King for the entire time that the Wight's had been still. Something inside him realised beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was a ploy, and that something would happen, that this wasn't going to be as easy as hiding away behind fire until the southern reinforcements arrived, whenever that would be. He was proved right in a matter of minutes, as the Night King in the far distance raised one of his arms.

Almost immediately afterwards he heard Robb whisper. "Seven Hells…" And drew his attention back to the flames in the outer moat. It took a moment but he saw movement beyond the fire, as wights began to step forwards and throw themselves into the moat, impaling themselves on the Dragonglass laden spikes. More followed, until eventually once the bodies were almost a dozen thick, gaps in the fire appeared. "ARCHERS!" Robb roared, and Jon flexed his hand on his held bow, preparing himself. "Fire arrows! Light the fuckers up!"

Jon grabbed a Dragonglass tipped arrow and held it into the nearby brazier, lighting the oiled cloth beneath the arrowhead. He nocked the arrow and noticed that the rest of the Northerners weren't waiting for orders or firing in unison, and small flaming missiles were being launched from the Walls of Winterfell constantly, flying over the gathered land forces and into the dead beyond. Jon pulled back on the bowstring and picked his target, his arrow finding a decomposed Wildling's missing eye and setting the head on fire. Other missiles followed, as all around the walls of Winterfell the sound of bowstrings and scorpions firing was constant, with bolts and arrows slamming into the onrushing dead.

It worked for a time as the fires now raged outside of the outer trench, with bodies burning all over the Northern ground. Ultimately however numbers were telling, and more Wildling's were getting through, colliding with Mance Rayder and Greatjon Umber's group of men. The noise coming from the battleground was harrowing, as over the sound of the bowstrings and scorpions all that could be heard was the snarling of the dead and the screams of the dying. Keeping his aim beyond the outer trench Jon dropped Wight after Wight, thinking after each one. 'Just one more.'

It was never just one more however, and from the treeline a storm taller than the Wall was approaching them. Even as far away as Winterfell the air began to freeze, and Jon's aim was being put off by his shivering despite the thick layers he was wearing. He fired one more arrow into the ground before terror fell upon Winterfell and the cold snuffed out the flaming moat.

"Fuck…" Robb voiced perfectly, watching along as the dead began to stream forwards in greater numbers. "LIGHT THE INNER MOAT!" Jon was the first to fire a flaming arrow into the inner moat, but the fire was doused immediately failing to set it aflame. Snarling, he tried again, joining dozens of other arrows that connected with the sharp Dragonglass barricades without lighting. Panicking, Jon turned to Robb who had a look of sheer terror on his face, but Dark Sister was unsheathed in the Lord of Winterfell's hands and Jon knew that Robb was preparing for a close combat fight.

Snarling, Jon stopped lighting the arrows and instead just shot freely into the battle below, thinking that if he could kill enough wights himself then it would make a difference. It seemed like others followed suit, and even the scorpions were firing quicker without their bolts and missiles being lit aflame. Jon watched as a six-foot bolt ripped through the neck of a giant, the large creature crashing down onto the outer moat and becoming a bridge. That area soon became Jon's aim as he just fired and hoped in that vague area.

He had nocked another arrow when the call came from below him. "OPEN THE GATE!"

"What the fuck…" Robb growled, moving to face the castle. Jon meanwhile stared over the walls, and below his position he watched as the Red Woman was flanked by half a dozen Free Folk, walking out into the distance.

"PROTECT HER!" Jon called out, firing more arrows out into the battlefield, though this time he was focusing on those breaking through the Northern force, closest to the castle. Arrow after arrow left the walls, until he reached into his quiver down below that had been filled with over a hundred arrows to find that there were no more. Snarling loudly, Jon dropped his bow and withdrew Longclaw, mentally preparing himself for when they reached the Walls.

That would have to wait though, as he looked down at the Red Woman who was kneeling before the trench with her arms outstretched, gripping onto the wooden barricades inside it. He couldn't hear what she was saying, but his stab wounds ached nonetheless. He knew that the pain would have to be pushed to one side however as he noticed another giant in the distance running towards them. "FOCUS YOUR FIRE!" Robb called out, pointing at the giant with Dark Sister.

Arrows flew, bolts sailed through the air, and none connected with the giant. Jon's eyes widened as he thought a prayer in his mind hoping for the safety of the Red Woman, but midway through the ground beneath the Winterfell walls erupted in flames. Larger and more fearsome than the outer moat, the flames leapt upwards, licking out at the dead rushing towards it magically. What seemed like two great arms of fire reached out and grabbed the giant, setting it aflame and throwing it back into the battlefield, likely crushing dozens.

More cheers followed from those on the walls as more and more of the dead were thrown back by the wall of fire, and so Jon's eyes moved back to the Red Woman. Instead of bright red hair, it was lightening and turning white before his very eyes, and he watched as she turned to face him, her mouth moving in an incantation but her eyes piercing his very soul and her voice sounded loudly in his ears. "Azor Ahai."

And with that, the flames spewing from the Red Woman's hands engulfed her, and without so much as a whimper she accepted the fire, and crumbled into nothing but ash.

Further down the walls the amazement of the sentient fire quickly wore off as the Wights began to repeat the same trick. Arya Stark had been matching Ygritte arrow for arrow, embedding them deeply withing the rotting bodies of the onrushing Wights. She had enjoyed the much-needed rest as the fire did the Northerner's jobs for them, but once the second moat was being passed, more of the fear began to set in. Ignoring the fire for now, Arya was solely focused on dropping the dead that were running towards her home for good. The dead people were no problem for the Stark, but people were not the only reanimated bodies set towards them.

"THE GIANT! AIM AT THE GIANT!" Ygritte roared at them, and the band of Wildlings all began to fire at it, peppering the giant with arrows so much so that it looked like the back of a hedgehog by the time it reached the fire. Arya quickly grabbed a trio of arrows and loosed them all simultaneously, a trick that she had tried to master whilst learning on Bear Island. She hadn't managed to master it however, and though while one arrow went sailing harmlessly to the ground, the other two connected with the giant's neck and cheek. The dead giant roared as it's cold blue eyes zoned in on Arya, and the girl dropped her bow to grab a Dragonglass spear preparing for closer combat until an arrow buried into one of the giant's eyes, with another following in the other one close behind it. Arya turned to see Ygritte still in firing position, a smirk on the red-heads face. Arya grinned and picked the bow back up to keep firing into the onrushing dead, once again using the giant's body as a bridge over the fire.

Dozens of them came sprinting towards Winterfell's walls and began to scratch at the castle stone, with more and more bodies then climbing on top of each other, rising slowly. Arya kept firing, but the numbers were overwhelming and very quickly the call came up from the distance. "LOOSE THE RAMS!"

Arya unsheathed a Dragonglass dagger and ran to her mark, slicing the thick rope as quickly as she could. Once it snapped she stared over and watched the wooden beam swing down, littered and sharpened with shards of Dragonglass. As she returned to her spot on the Wall and picked up her spear she could see as the ram had dropped down and slammed into the wights at the top, impaling them with the black substance to end their second existence.

As with the other traps that was merely a short-lived solution however, as more and more wights were arriving at the base of the castle and climbing. Readying her spear she prepared herself to stab out at the first one to pop their rotting head over the parapet when a familiar roar sounded, and yet another giant came charging.

"Shit." Arya hissed, angling to launch the spear into the giant's face. On a deep breath she threw it, and the Dragonglass point merely nicked the giant's cheek. More arrows and spears followed, but this time the giant had a clear path to the walls, and Arya was forced to duck as it slammed into them.

"TAKE IT DOWN!" She roared, unsheathing a second Dragonglass dagger. She waited for the giant to reach in, grabbing one of the Wildling archers before she lashed out, embedding her daggers in the giant's arm over and over again.

"PULL BACK AND FIRE!" Ygritte had roared, but Arya no longer had her bow. Grimacing, she was forced to roll out of the way as the Giant went to swat at her, picking up another spear that had been abandoned in the process. The focus on the giant had also caused Wight's to make it to the walls, and so Arya Stark swung her spear around and lashed out, stabbing and impaling whatever was in her way as she tried to make it back to Ygritte.

By the time she managed to do so she was covered in blood, but they had ascended the nearest gate tower and Ygritte was ordering her archers to focus on the giant. Catching her breath, the Stark moved over to the nearby scorpion, pulling the Glover man away from the siege engine and turning it. They were so high up that they were now at a position taller than the giant, but Arya still manoeuvred the weapon to aim directly at the giant, launching the Dragonglass bolt at such a speed that it went through the giant's head, causing it to drop and slam into the merlons on the walls, giving the Wights a ramp up. "Shit!" Arya called out.

"Never mind that!" Ygritte roared. "They're on the walls now, we deal with them!"

It was as simple as that, and Arya regrouped with the rest of the Wildlings and Northerners atop the gate tower ready to face the oncoming onslaught, though she managed a glance quickly towards the Godswood, praying that Bran would remain safe.

The moment the inner moat was breached was the largest scale panic that Jon had ever seen. The thought that everybody that had stood between the two moats was now gone was horrifying, and it was only the stern commands from Robb that seemed to keep everybody in place as the dead came rushing through the flames of the inner moat.

He had shifted positions so that he had a handful more arrows to utilise his high position, enough to hit a semi recognisable wight with crab armour and a bloodied Valyrian Steel axe before the body of Lucan Celtigar reached the castle among others wearing all sorts of armour. As the Wights began to scale the walls, dodging rams, stones and arrows as they climbed, an even worse sight met Jon beyond the flames, the shining blue eyes and crowned head of the Night King.

"ROBB!" Jon called, formality well and truly unnecessary at that point. His cry got the attention of the Lord of Winterfell, and Jon just pointed his bow over to where the Night King was, approaching on foot.

Robb muttered something inaudible to Jon, before he started grabbing any man or woman nearby on the Walls and almost throwing them down the stairs before shouting back at Jon. "THE WALL IS YOURS!" Robb then sprinted away, towards the stairs that would lead him down to the main courtyard of Winterfell.

Looking around at the scared and confused faces around him, Jon unsheathed Longclaw. "FOR WINTERFELL!" He cried out, gladdened as the rest of them followed his actions. Returning to his place on the walls he leaned over to see the dead getting closer, and it was only a few seconds before he swung out and decapitated a former brother of the Night's Watch. On and on it went, with Jon slashing and stabbing out from behind the battlements of Winterfell just desperately trying to stop any Wight from reaching the Walls, while also having half of an eye on the Night King getting closer.

After Jon had felled what seemed like his 50th Wight, he had gone to slash out again, only to find that the Wights had once again stopped what they were doing and were standing still, all of them looking out towards the inner moat. Jon followed their eyeline and gasped as he spotted the Night King kneeling. Eyes wide, he could only watch on in horror as the flames from the moat seemed to suck back up inside him, extinguishing the barrier around Winterfell. Silence fell on the walls as everybody was watching what was happening, and the only noise in Jon's ears was the breathing of the people around him and the organisation of Robb below.

Jon meanwhile was still rooted to the spot staring at the Night King, who glanced up to stare directly at Jon before smirking. An angry snarl left Jon's mouth as he gripped Longclaw's hilt tightly, watching as the Night King rose to standing and slowly walked towards Winterfell's gates, his army of White Walker's following behind.

"DRAGONGLASS ARROWS! NOW!" He heard Jaime Lannister's voice ring out, and almost immediately the twangs of bows sounded, with the arrows simply bouncing off of the Night King, although one embedded itself into a trailing White Walker who exploded into thousands of shards, an action which seemed to galvanise the defenders of Winterfell.

No orders needed to be given at that moment as anybody who still had arrows to fire began to bombard the White Walker's with them, though the demons seemed aware to the danger now and kept swatting them away. The Night King meanwhile had gone underneath the walls and out of Jon's vision. Growling, Jon bolted to his left, eager to get down to the courtyard and finish it all.

At the sound of the arrows firing Robb Stark knew it was simply a waiting game. He had managed to gather a host of the Northmen inside the castle down in the courtyard, with hundreds upon hundreds of men, women and children tightly stood together as a barricade between them and the Godswood. A cold wind had picked up in the air, and Robb was almost ready to piss himself when he saw the gates of Winterfell crack and start to freeze, until the Ironwood shattered into pieces. Robb lifted his shield up to block the shards from hitting him, but he heard the cries and groans of some men behind him that hadn't reacted in time. He peeked over his shield to see the Night King stood there centrally, flanked by a dozen White Walkers.

Arrows began flying from behind him out towards the formed up White Walkers. Robb closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to whichever god was listening before scowling, the adrenaline rushing through him. "FOR THE NORTH!" He roared, with all of the others lined up with him roaring the same battle cry.

Then the dead came. Streaming past and in between the White Walker's they came charging into Winterfell. Robb held his shield firm as the corpses clattered into him, the Stark pushing back on the new force and stabbing out with Dark Sister at every chance he got. At first it was a struggle to stay in formation, but soon the pressure gave way and Robb went barrelling forwards. Looking up he spotted a one-armed Mance Rayder leading the last of his group having entered the castle through the Hunter's Gate, while the Mormont Women had also appeared from the South. It allowed a bit more fighting room, and Robb ended up hacking out in any direction at anything that threw itself at him. The Valyrian Steel sword in his hand was coated in blood quickly and he soon found himself back-to-back with the Captain of the Winterfell Guard, Malck. Together they covered one another, pushing closer towards the Night King and his gang of White Walkers, though it seemed like the pair of them had slain dozens of wights each to get there.

"WE HAVE TO KILL HIM!" Robb cried out, spotting between bodies that the Night King was now also in the fight, his icy scythe dripping red. Malck simply nodded, and side by side they cut their way through the chaos, reaching a small clearing in the fighting and watching as the Night King had impaled the King Beyond the Wall. Snarling, Robb went to charge only to be barrelled over by a different White Walker.

What was coming out of the Lord of Winterfell's mouth at that point was more wolfish than human as he quickly rolled over and brought his shield up before rising to his feet, sword still in hand. He watched as the White Walker stepped tauntingly towards him, smashing Jorelle Mormont's sword into shards before impaling her with his ice blade, the Mormont having stepped between her Lord and the Walker. Robb snarled further, charging the White Walker who had retrieved his blade from the woman's body and swung it around its blue head. Robb lifted up Dark Sister hoping that the famous, old sword wouldn't be destroyed during his time wielding it given the heroes throughout history that had held the Valyrian Steel blade… only for a musical twang to follow the blow as Robb parried.

Grinning at the White Walker's surprised look on its frozen face, Robb then batted away the next blow and slashed out quickly, connecting strongly with the neck of the White Walker and watching as it erupted into thousands of shards. There wasn't time to celebrate however as Robb turned back to face the Night King who now had more bodies at his feet, including Malck and Alysane Mormont. Robb's glee turned back to fury in that moment, and he flicked Dark Sister around before getting into his fighting stance, charging at the Night King with a roar as Dark Sister parried the Night King's ice scythe.

The gates had shattered before Jon had turned the corner to descend the first set of stairs, and by the time he had reached the final flight the courtyard had erupted into chaos with the Northerners fighting both the dead and the White Walkers. He could only watch as Robb destroyed one of the Walkers, dropping dozens of other wights in the process, and as his brother rounded on the Night King, a crashing behind him took his attention. He turned to see both Arya and Ygritte hurriedly running away from a larger group of Wights that had started to swarm as they threw themselves over the parapets. Swapping between his brother and his sister and wife, Jon growled in frustration before bolting after Ygritte and Arya.

As he caught up with them he allowed the pair to rush past before he hacked out at the dead with Longclaw, killing two of the dead in the first swipe before bringing the Valyrian Steel back around and decapitating a third. By now Arya and Ygritte had regrouped and joined in, allowing the trio to finish off the group that had been chasing them. Once the last had fallen Jon gripped Ygritte fiercely by the arm, pulling her tightly up against his body. "Are you alright?" He asked her breathlessly.

"Aye, Jon Snow." She gasped, out of breath herself.

Jon then took a moment to check on Arya too before he bolted back the way he came from, descending the stairs into the courtyard just in time to see the Night King swat Dark Sister away. "NOOOOO!" Jon cried out, as he watched the scythe slash back down, and Robb Stark fell to the ground after putting up a lengthy fight against the Night King.

With nothing but rage in his heart, a snarling Jon stormed towards the Night King, slashing out at anything that moved towards him without so much of a blink. His outcry had brought him a lot of attention however, including yet another stare from the cold blue eyes of the Night King. As Jon turned his walk into a jog, the Night King turned himself to be fully facing Jon, before with a slow movement, he raised his arms out to the side. Jon would have continued rushing towards the Night King despite this, but as he neared he noticed the bodies all around him begin to twitch. He ground to a halt, desperately looking around and willing it to just be a dream. His hopes were wrong though, and all around the courtyard of Winterfell and beyond, the dead began to rise once again.

This might just be my bloodiest chapter yet for named characters. While I may not have mentioned them all, there were a lot of Northern nobles outside the walls that fell, along with a number inside them too for the last 2 scenes. Here is a list of the ones that I've specifically noted to have died in this chapter:

Greatjon Umber, Rickard Karstark, Torrhen Karstark, Roger Ryswell, Rodrik Ryswell, Cley Cerwyn, Robett Glover, Helman Tallhart, Leobald Tallhart, Benfred Tallhart, Brandon Tallhart, Beren Tallhart, Rodrik Forrester, Wendell Glenmore, Maege Mormont, Alysane Mormont, Jorelle Mormont, Mance Rayder, Malck, Robb Stark.

So yes… a lot. And given this is only part one of my War for the Dawn… you can bet there's more to come. Robb Stark incidentally is my 100th named character death (as far as my list goes).

As this is effectively a part 1 I won't do my usual debriefing either, and instead I'll just say that I hope you enjoyed the chapter (as well as you could do in a desperate battle scenario!).

Next Time: The Battle of Winterfell continues as more of the dead rise from within the castle…

Reviews:

DarylDixon'sLover: The reaction is coming soon…

Zhorvak: I guess that all depends on whether or not there will be a Night's Watch at the end of the series.

Chuck Moloney (Chapter 65): That would have caused an even bigger issue than what actually happened!

the rain dancer (Chapter 67): Thank you! I have no plans to stop writing any time soon for sure.