Another week, another hype post about House of the Dragon… the premiere happened this week and literally everything that I've seen and heard about the upcoming show looks incredible! I mentioned on Reddit last week that the show has really improved my motivation for this story and I honestly cannot wait to watch the first episode.
Until then though we still have a few chapters to upload here, starting with the Battle of Castle Black! It's a longer chapter than I've been uploading recently so I hope you all enjoy it!
I own nothing but any OC's. All recognisable characters belong to HBO or George R R Martin.
The first night was the worst. The barely 400 men housed inside Castle Black faced attacks from both North and South of the Wall, and while only a handful of black brothers had died, the infrastructure damage had meant that the men of the joint Night's Watch and Targaryen force had barely got any sleep as they tried to makeshift a new gate for the southern walls, along with having to hoist a giant to block the newly made gap in the heavy steel gate that led to the true North.
The second night began much the same, though Jon had been thankful that the attack was focused to the North, though after a night of defending the Wall from the climbers and the Free Folk that had tried to rush the Wall to move the body of the giant, supplies of oil and arrows were thinning. The third night, however, was the first of the assault that Jon had actually managed to crack a smile when Robb had arrived. It was the first time that Jon had seen his brother in almost four years, and their reunion along with Robb's gift of thousands of men under his and Ser Loras Tyrell's command was the morale boost that Jon and the rest of the Night's Watch had needed.
Robb had ridden in from the west with Bowen Marsh's group and just under 8,000 men of his own, and the first thing that Robb had done hadn't been to talk with the Acting Lord Commander, but to make a beeline for Jon and wrap the bastard in a hug.
"You were right, Snow." Robb said with his trademark grin. "It is your colour."
Jon had laughed at that, memories coming back of easier days. "You're late." Jon grinned.
Robb shrugged. "We had a fight of our own to deal with." He explained. "Some big blonde fucker, armed with a scythe?"
Jon's eyes widened in surprise. "You fought the Weeper?"
"Killed the Weeper." Robb explained. "He went over the bridge."
The rangers nearby all began whispering excitedly, reminding Jon of the fact that he wasn't yet alone with his brother. "That's good news, the Weeper is a fearsome leader. Mance has been dealt a big blow with his death."
Robb grinned that handsome grin that had always frustrated Jon. "Then let us continue dealing him blows. What's the situation here?"
Ser Alliser cleared his throat, and Jon took a step back and lowered his head. "Ser Alliser, Lord Stark." He introduced.
"Aye." Ser Alliser said, and Jon could tell that the tall man was itching to make a snide remark, though the knight held his tongue. "What have you brought us?"
"Half of the men you sent out to reinforce the Shadow Tower have stayed to defend it, and I sent word to my bannermen in the Mountains to send as many men to reinforce them as they could." Robb explained. "The rest are here, along with 7,800 men of the North and the Reach."
Those numbers hadn't been seen at Castle Black in centuries, Jon was reminded, though he kept quiet as Ser Alliser nodded. "And supplies?" The tall man asked.
"As much food as we can carry thanks to Ser Loras here." Robb pointed to a long brunette man with shining steel armour. "And weapons and armour enough to fit ourselves thrice. If you could point out where we should store our supplies, your men are welcome to take what they need."
"Pyp, Tollett." Ser Alliser barked. "Show Lord Stark's men to the armoury and the kitchens." The two in question nodded and rushed to do as asked, and soon the majority of the Westerosi force was moving in one way or another. "You are welcome here, Lord Stark. Chambers in the King's Tower will be prepared for you and Ser Loras. Second only to His Grace's chambers."
"Is the King here?" Robb asked Jon, causing the bastard to blink in surprise at the question being directed at him.
Jon shook his head. "Not yet." He stated. "Though we received a raven from Runestone, his ships were spotted off of the coast of the Vale yesterday.
"With triple your force." Ser Alliser stated proudly, and Jon remembered the sheer bias of the Thorne knight. "Soon we might even be able to run a sortie against these savages."
"Ser Alliser!" A man cried from the winch cage. "They're climbing the Wall!"
The Acting Lord Commander audibly groaned. "Then drop the fucking scythe!" He roared back. The man bowed uncomfortably to Robb and stated. "Snow, you're a steward. Go and show Lord Stark to his chambers. Rangers! With me!" Before skulking away to the winch cage to return atop the Wall.
Most men had started to return to their duties as Ser Alliser departed, leaving Robb and Jon alone in the middle of Castle Black's courtyard. "He's a sour old man, isn't he?" Robb jested, causing Jon's lips to twitch in amusement.
"Come, I'll show you to your rooms. It will get us out of the way and we can talk properly." Jon explained, thinking of both Ygritte and Bran. "I have a lot to tell you…"
Robb and Ser Loras' forces had given the fighting a sense of stalemate, and a few dozen men of the Watch from Eastwatch had also arrived at Castle Black to bolster their numbers. While Mance continued sending men to assault the Wall, they seemed fewer as each night went on and by the second week of the assault Jaime Lannister felt that the Night's Watch had gotten a bit lazy. As a veteran of the Sack of King's Landing however, he refused to let his guard down, taking extra watches at night atop the Wall.
The dynamics of the Night's Watch had somewhat shifted too with the arrival of Stark and Tyrell. While Ser Alliser was the Acting Lord Commander and had final say, Stark often deferred to Jon Snow when making decisions, and the heir to Highgarden was clearly subordinate to the Warden of the North, a fact which would have made the Kingslayer of old almost gleeful. That hierarchy had begun to filter down to the Black Brothers however, and more often than not it was Jon Snow doing the leading. That suited Jaime just fine though, the Lannister enjoying the smug old prick seething away at his loss of power.
He was dragged out of his thoughts as the horns sounded twice once again. Leaving his position beside his watch partner for the evening, a young boy from Fair Isle named Jace, Jaime joined the rushing group of men in the Wall's trench in wondering what was going on. Seeing Grenn running towards him away from the eastern posts, the Kingslayer grabbed him by the jacket and pushed him against the ice walls. "What's going on?"
"The fuckers are atop the Wall and rushing at us." Grenn spat. "I'm to warn everyone."
Jaime thought for a moment. "Get Snow, tell him and Lord Stark first. If they've gotten atop the Wall in numbers then they might have gotten past it. Tell them to prepare for a southern attack."
"Aye, Ser Jaime." Grenn nodded, and Jaime let go of the man's cloak and let Grenn run over to the winch cage, leaving the Kingslayer to face the incoming horde from the west.
"BACK TO YOUR POSTS!" He roared, knowing that Mance would use this to send more men running at them, and thankfully those that were watching the forest to the North of them returned back to the overlooks, allowing Jaime to command the rest of the men. "GATHER SPEARS AND SHIELDS! ARCHERS! GRAB YOUR QUIVERS!"
"SPEARS AND SHIELDS!" He heard someone else roar, and thankfully there was some order to the rushing from then as everybody got to their marks. The trenches were barely big enough for men to stand four abreast, so standing on a table Jaime barked out orders to get the defenders all standing in threes with archers following his lead and grabbing whatever height they could in the small space. "SPEARS OUT! NOCK YOUR ARROWS!" Jaime called, and those in the front lowered their weapons past one another so the spear points were facing the growing torchlight that was rushing towards them as the archers all prepared an arrow. "STEADY!" He called, watching the torches grow. "Steady…" He said quieter, concentrating, spotting the same kid that he had been stood with just a few minutes earlier getting ready near the front lines.
As he was about to pull the young Westerlander away from the fight, the roars and cries in the darkness begun to be heard. The darkness meant that Jaime could hear them long before he could actually see the Wildlings. "NOCK!" He called out in a quick panic, and he heard the straining of bow strings. Finally, when he began to see the outlines of people, he screamed. "LOOSE!"
The twang of bows filled his ears as over two dozen arrows shot out from behind the Lannister out into the distance, and he heard the impact as they cannoned into the Wildling attackers. "NOCK!" Jaime called again. "DRAW! LOOSE!" Another volley of arrows, and another set of cries and grunts as they impacted. This time however Jaime grabbed a nearby spear, preferring the long-range weapon for the moment as the Wildlings grew closer. "Whatever you do, hold your fucking ground!" He called out, counting as some Wildlings were mere feet away. "FOR THE WATCH!"
"FOR THE WATCH!" The cry was repeated, and Jaime jumped down off table to join his brothers in front of his countryman, angling his spear over the shoulders of those in front of him before jabbing out past the shield formation that had blocked the width of the trench. The next thing Jaime felt was an almighty shove as the Wildling's crashed into the shields. "HOLD!" He called, rebalancing, willing the large Northerners at the front to hold their ground. "HOLD!"
They did, and once the entire group defending the top of the wall regained their balance a call came from the front. "PUSH!"
Jaime did just that, stabbing outwards into the neck of a Wildling as the tightly packed group took a step forward. They waited a few seconds before doing the same again, with Jaime moving forwards and jabbing with his spear. As he peered out past the shields in front of him however, he saw that despite Wildling bodies littering the ice in front of them, dozens more were rushing towards them and the Lannister knew that it was going to be a long night…
As the fighting had begun atop the Wall, the courtyard of Castle Black was fighting too. Jon had quickly realised that Mance had used the lull in fighting to send as many men over the top of the Wall as possible, and there were Wildlings attacking the top of the Wall from both sides as well as a small army rushing at them from the South. He had Ygritte's bow in his hands as he fired arrow after arrow out at the assaulting force, but with each arrow fired he began to feel that little bit more hopeless.
"Even with your men they outnumber us ten to one!" He shouted towards Robb, who was also firing from the walls of Castle Black.
Robb frowned. "Don't lose hope Jon!" He called, firing out again at the same time an almighty crash sounded beneath them.
"THE GATE IS BREACHED!" He heard Ser Alliser roar from the courtyard. "PUSH THEM BACK!"
Jon looked out and saw that men were streaming down the road towards them, and he knew that his bow wouldn't make a difference. Growling, he stashed the bow around his torso and withdrew Longclaw. Robb seemed to have the same idea as he simply dropped his own bow to the floor and unsheathed his sword.
"Together?" Robb asked.
Jon nodded. "Always." He stated, and he led Robb down the stairs into the courtyard, swinging out at the closest Wildling and opening their chest with a splatter of blood. His plan was to fight his way over to the kennels where Ghost and Grey Wind had been housed, and thankfully Robb caught on to his plan as the Warden of the North screamed for his men to provide cover.
Longclaw was soon glittering with blood in the moonlight as Jon carved his way through Wildlings, opening necks and thrusting the Valyrian Steel into his assailants before he managed to reach the kennels. He fumbled for the key for a moment, snapping the string that held it around his neck to place it in the lock, only to drop it. "Shit." He snarled, reaching down to grab it and barely missing an arrow bed itself where his head had been a second before. Jon turned to see that Robb had stepped in the way as he fought, covering Jon completely and giving him the time to unlock and open the kennel door. "Come on you two, we need you." He said to the Direwolves, who both let out a big howl and raced out.
Jon turned back to see the carnage that was in the courtyard. The first assault from the South had been miniscule compared to the hundreds of men fighting, with more there outside the obliterated gates. Taking a deep breath, Jon geared himself up to once again join the fight and he pushed past Robb, slicing the arm off a Wildling before lopping off his head in the next swing.
As Jon carved his way through the Free Folk in the courtyard, he spotted the white cloak of Ser Franklyn Flowers dancing around his assailants as the Kingsguard knight sliced open two necks at once. The Bastard of Winterfell had to duck beneath an axe then, though as he turned to face his attacker, he noticed that the man's head had already been caved in by a spiked mace wielded by Dacey Mormont.
It was then that Jon saw him, a large Wildling armoured all in bones. Snarling as the reminder of Qhorin Halfhand was brought back up Jon steadied himself and walked over towards him, never taking his eyes off Rattleshirt for more than a second when he needed to focus on a new enemy and kill again. The Lord of Bones had also spotted him however, and Jon could see the twisted grin beneath his skull mask.
"I told Mance you'd never be one of us." The Lord of Bones growled once they were within talking distance. "Your red-headed whore won't save you now, Crow, I'll bring Mance your head."
Jon roared as he swung Longclaw, only to be parried away by the staff of bones that Rattleshirt wielded before the two engaged in a fierce duel. Jon swung and hacked away at his former captor, all the anger in his system being let out as he faced the desecrator of dozens. Jon ducked underneath one swing of the staff and slammed Longclaw into Rattleshirt's side, only for the Wildling to roar, holding the blade in place as he tried swinging at Jon's head. The Bastard of Winterfell ducked that one too, yanking Longclaw out with a spurt of blood and couple of fingers being severed, the shock of that causing Rattleshirt to step back into the gateway in surprise. Jon was ready to hammer the final blow when a blood curdling screech sounded in the distance, making his skin crawl underneath his furs and leather armour.
The ground to the south erupted in a sea of flames, and in that light Jon noticed a Wildling getting lifted high into the air by a shadow, only to be dropped from around fifty feet and plummet to his death. Jon used the distraction to thrust Longclaw deep into the Lord of Bones' heart, feeling the life leave the Wildling before dropping him unceremoniously to the ground as the thunderous sound of hooves began to fill the air.
They had arrived at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to find a skeleton crew under Cotter Pyke's command, and the update from the commander of the seaside castle had worried Lucerys into pushing the march on sooner than he had originally planned for, leading the cavalry inland that very same day. By the time they were within sight of Castle Black night had fallen once again and the battle was obviously raging fiercely. In both moonlight and torchlight Luke could see clashes both atop the Wall and beneath it, with people dressed in patchy furs rushing at the weakened gates in their numbers.
He ordered his force to a halt, as thousands of soldiers on horseback lined up out of view from the current battlers. Unsheathing Blackfyre from his horse's saddle, he lifted it in the air for all to see, waiting as he heard the unsheathing and settling of weapons from behind him. Luke then closed his eyes, feeling the connection deep inside him. "Mazis." He stated calmly and quietly. The dragon, hiding somewhere in the night's sky above them, let out a bone chilling screech as he descended from above, and Luke noticed the fighting in the distance halt for a split second before a shadow flew overhead, blocking the moonlight with his dark wings and letting out a roar of fire on the Wildling invaders.
The screams were immediately deafening from the Targaryen's position as Wildlings were lit aflame, but Luke had no time to watch in awe as his dragon, growing ever larger, roasted what must have been a dozen people at once. Valaxes had also grabbed a large looking Wildling with his jaws on his fly by, rising high into the air to rip the man in two with the dragon's sharp teeth, gobbling down his torso but dropping his legs fifty feet. With no more time to lose, Luke cried out. "FOR WESTEROS!" And dug his heels into his horse's side, urging the destrier forwards at a fast gallop.
Moments later, his horse crashed into one unfortunate Wildling, trampling the bearded savage into the ground. Another quickly lost the top half of his skull to the sharp edge of Blackfyre as Luke slashed outwards, not slowing down the charge. Three more Wildling's fell to the famed Valyrian Steel by the time Luke had reached the gates of Castle Black, and as he wheeled his horse around, he noted that the visible area was full of men on horseback sporting various sigils of Westeros, whilst on the floor lay the fur armoured men from Beyond-the-Wall, some of whom were being gobbled up by the jaws of a hungry dragon. A decisive victory, Luke thought to himself.
His observations were interrupted by a familiar voice from the Castle behind him. "Your Grace!"
Luke turned his horse around to see a dirty and bloodied Jon Snow looking up at him, another Valyrian Steel sword in his hand dripping blood on the ground. "Jon Snow." Luke greeted. "I am glad to see you alive."
"Your timing was impeccable." Jon admitted. "The Lord of Bones' men would have broken us had you not arrived when you did."
"I'm only sorry we couldn't arrive sooner." Luke admitted, hearing the screaming of the dying start to diminish, and so he dismounted his horse and held his free hand out to shake Jon's. "What's the situation?"
Instead of from Jon Snow, Luke's answer came from the tall Ser Alliser Thorne. "This is the Wildling's largest assault in over a week, Your Grace. There is still fighting atop the Wall, and tens of thousands more men sit North of the Wall."
Luke thought on how easily his own mounted soldiers had carved through the unprepared Wildlings. "None of them are mounted?" He asked.
"Not that we know of." Ser Alliser explained.
"And they don't fight in formation?"
"They seek to overwhelm and fight as if in a brawl." The Acting Lord Commander explained further.
Smiling, Luke had a plan. He turned around to his own men as they were starting to stream into the courtyard through the gates. "We'll go North with a mounted force, sally out in formation and carve through them like hot butter."
"We can't." Another Northern voice came, and Luke was pleased to see Robb Stark come over to join them. "Not until we move the body of a giant that's blocking the gateway."
Luke looked to the Night's Watchmen for confirmation, and Jon just nodded his head. "Fuck." He swore, only to be distracted by a scream from above as a man came flying off the Wall, impacting the stone courtyard ground with a sickening crash as his body just exploded into nothingness.
"Seven Hells." Someone behind Luke cried out, and the Targaryen heard more than one person empty their stomachs on the ground.
Grimacing as the King looked up as faint clashes of fighting could still be heard up above, Luke scowled and looked towards the South. "VALAXES!" Luke roared out into the blackness of the night as he tried to gain the beast's attention. He saw the red in Valaxes' scales shine in the distance under the moonlight, looking over at Luke curiously. "DRACARYS!" He pointed up at the Wall, and whilst the Dragon gave some mental pushback not wanting to go near the 700-foot-high ice wonder of the world, the flapping of wings told Luke that his command was being obeyed. Turning back to Ser Alliser, Luke gave a further command. "Get that giant cleared out the way. I want this war over with now."
Dozens had been an understatement; Jaime Lannister came to realise. It seemed like wave after wave of Wildling was rushing at them, and the bravest among them tried leaping over the body length shields that some of the Northerners had gifted them, breaking over the lines to a swift death more often than not, but some broke through and cut a small path through the Black Brothers. The fighting was now more splintered, and Jaime had long abandoned the spear for his trusty new sword, a golden hilted gift from Tyrion, the blade of which was coated in blood.
The fighting was tight and the sheer number of bodies both dead and alive on top of the ice mixed with the blood oozing out of the dead meant that it was getting slick underfoot with both blood and water. As the Kingslayer pulled his blade out of a grey bearded Wildling he looked around, spotting more than one person slipping over.
Grimacing, he parried the axe of another Wildling before opening his throat, his thoughts turning to his father and sister, two people that he would surely be seeing again soon…
"AGH!" Jaime cried as the point of a spear dug into his shoulder. He gripped the wooden length to stop the Wildling from pulling the weapon out, painfully yanking it from his attacker's grip and twisting his body around sharply to smack the man in his face before he brought his sword up to painfully sever the iron tip from its shaft. Jaime grabbed the furs of his assaulter with his left hand and slammed him forcefully into the southern ice wall, slashing his own sword across the Wildling's neck and holding him in place until the life left his body. Turning he could see more Wildling's than Night's Watchmen at this point, and the Kingslayer thought that if he was going to die, he would take as many of the savages with him as he could.
Flicking his bloody and sweaty hair out of the way of his eyes, Jaime rushed in, ploughing his sword into a Wildling's back to save a Northerner he had never even met, before spinning away from a large double handed axe coming straight for his skull and deftly severing the Thenn's head from his body in one movement. He then pushed on towards the west, hacking and slashing out at anybody that rushed towards him wearing furs and leaving behind nothing but a trail of blood and bodies. He had thrust his sword through a younger Wildling's eye when he heard the flapping of wings, and with his sword still embedded inside the Wildling's skull, Jaime turned to look southwards to see a black creature rise above the top of the ice wall, leering down at them all.
"DRAGON!" Somebody cried out loudly above the clashing of weapons. "RUN!"
But Jaime was frozen to the spot as he stared over at the beast, still holding up the young Wildling man that had blood and brains oozing out of his eyehole. Instantly from looking into the dragon's black, beady eyes the Kingslayer knew that this was the creature that had killed his father… that had killed Joffrey… that had killed Cersei…
Then the fire came. It was aimed away from Jaime, towards the Wildling's to the West that were still coming. The closest of them were incinerated in seconds, and the first thought that popped into the Kingslayer's mind was that that was a luxury. Those behind were set alight instantaneously and began shaking and writhing around in sheer agony as the flames engulfed them. The screams brought back Jaime's worst fears of a scruffy looking long haired man sat on the Iron Throne screaming at him to burn them all.
The Lannister was still stuck to the spot, genuinely frightened to move a muscle in case the dragon decided that he was next. That was until the second burst of dragon fire however, when a deafening crack sounded on the northern side. Illuminated by the burning bodies and equipment, Jaime noticed the top of the Wall that had faced the brunt of the flames starting to crack and melt, and closest to the impact point Jaime noticed that a chunk of ice was already missing, and nearby his former Western watchmate was rolling on the ground, the youngster from Fair Isle screaming as fire consumed his flesh.
Kicking himself into action, he ripped his sword out of the Wildling's skull, getting splattered with blood and brain in the process. "RUN!" He screamed, at this point not caring who followed him be they brother or Wildling. All Jaime cared about was getting to either the winch cage or the steps leading down to the ground so that he could be as far enough away from that dragon as he possibly could get.
Valaxes ended the fighting pretty quickly with a few bursts of flames on either side of Castle Black as the Wildling's atop the Wall surrendered rather than face the dragon's jaw, but it wasn't until dawn that Luke felt like he could relax slightly as he stared into the mass pyre that had been built for all of the dead. His men had reinforced Castle Black by almost double, and the foot soldiers were still on their way.
Despite all that, the sight of the pyre brought a new plan to Luke's mind. Rhaegar's insistence of the greater threat had shifted Luke's mindset massively as he stared into the flames hoping to see something from Malanar's Red God to set him on a path, though all he saw was burning.
He noticed a new mourner standing next to him, a grimy Jaime Lannister, far from the golden image Luke had held of the Kingslayer before meeting him. Luke noticed a tired, almost tearful look in his eyes.
"Your Dragon. That's how they went?" Jaime asked quietly.
Luke nodded, knowing immediately whom the Kingslayer was meaning as the Lannister's expression was saddened, almost broken. "He was smaller then, big enough to only light a pyre, but it was Valaxes' fire." He explained.
Jaime simply nodded the once. "It's an evil way to die." Was all the Kingslayer said with a bitter tone before leaving the Targaryen alone.
The conversation played on Luke's mind for the next couple of hours of failed sleep until he sat down for a small and unsatisfying meal with Robb Stark and Jon Snow as they tried to distract themselves by talking about Winterfell. Luke interrupted the trip down memory lane however when he said. "We need to end this, today."
A silence fell over their table as the two Stark's digested that. "Mance will never kneel." Jon Snow explained. "He doesn't know you… he'll have his hackles raised from the moment you approach…"
"We have more men now." Robb stated. "We don't need to approach him; we can beat him in the field."
"That won't stop him." Jon shook his head. "The Wildling's are fierce, motivated, and many. It was a hard battle last night and that was still a fraction of his army…" Jon turned to Luke. "I can go, Your Grace. Mance knows me, and I know what he wants. If I can persuade him to talk…"
"You'll be boiled alive before you can even open your mouth." Robb countered angrily. "No. Beat him in the field, and then once he's our prisoner then we talk."
Luke nodded at that. "Lord Stark is right. Mance needs to know that we are willing to slaughter them all if it comes to it, even if we aim for a peaceful end to this conflict. We can do that by taking the fight to them instead of waiting for them to attack us."
Jon sat back in his chair unhappily, but he nodded his head all the same before turning to the next table. "Brian, is that tunnel cleared yet?"
"Aye." The read head man answered. "We have two dozen men in the tunnel waiting to raise the alarm if they attack."
Luke was tired, but years and years of campaigns in Essos had taught him about seizing opportunities when they presented themselves. "Jon, have Ser Alliser made aware that I intent to ride out at noon. We need that gate guarded until then." He then turned to Edric Dayne further down the table. "Ned, go and gather my generals." He commanded, watching the young man quickly finish his food and depart the mess hall. "Lord Stark. Your men have been fighting for longer than we have…"
"We'll be with you, Your Grace." Robb said firmly. "The North have more reason than most to want to take the fight to the Wildling's."
A smirk appeared on Luke's face. "Good." He stated happily. "Then prepare your men and join me in our camp outside. I want as many men that can ride a horse and swing a sword lined up in formation outside by noon."
"Aye, Your Grace." Both Jon and Robb nodded as they rose to their feet, making the rest of the room sense that something was going on too. Luke however finished his bread and stew before rising, his Kingsguard following closely behind.
Word quickly spread, and by high noon Luke was in his full plate armour atop his destrier, closely flanked by all four of his Kingsguard that were at the Wall. Taking a deep breath, Luke pulled forwards, riding through the Castle Black courtyard where the majority of the Night's Watch were stood watching the almost 10,000 strong mounted force parade through. Luke led them through the courtyard and into the long tunnel underneath the Wall where he saw for the first time the damage that the first giant had done to the gates. Not stopping however, he led his army through the Wall and out the other side to the snowy plains before the Haunted Forest. He stopped his destrier a couple of hundred yards away from the Wall, waiting for his men to get into formation, though he could already hear the horn blasts from the Haunted Forest alerting the Wildlings to their presence.
His men were in position in a matter of minutes, when Ned Dayne rode from the right flank where the Dornish were positioned towards him. "We're ready, Your Grace." The squire explained, settling his horse into position beside the King.
Luke looked to the right, and he could see the long spears of the Dornish in the air. To his left he saw both Tyrell and Stark men, with the Warden of the North clearly at the front of the lines. Ahead of him he saw the tree line fill with people and even a pair of giants. The King grimaced at Valaxes' stubbornness at not going past the Wall at that point, but he had to push that to one side as a battle was on the horizon and he soon forced himself to focus.
"What happens today will shape the future for all the living." Luke said quietly to himself, before he unsheathed his sword once again and held it aloft in the air. "WITH ME, FOR WESTEROS!" He roared, kicking the horse into a gallop.
"FOR WESTEROS!" Was the cry from all around him, and with a scowl to get him in the mood, Luke's purple eyes were staring solely at his first target.
And I'll end it there! This chapter was all about Castle Black, while next chapter has a mix of the Wall and the Vale with a unified theme, so I felt this was a good place to stop the chapter.
I've always enjoyed reunions between Robb and Jon given how they didn't get to see one another in the show after only the second episode. This one was fun as well, while I also hopefully explained the state of play in the battle well enough. We saw the 'first night' pretty effectively in the actual show so I didn't feel like I needed to go over that in too much detail, albeit the Wildling's would have been different attacking from the South after Luke interrupted Tormund's party in chapter 34.
I've borrowed the shield wall element of the Battle of the Bastards. With the Bolton's being of the North I imagined it to be a Northern tactic, and while Jaime is commanding, the North are there at the front and have the more men, so any preparations would have been extremely Northern heavy.
As I mentioned before, Tormund being captured means I changed the southern assault on night one, and it also meant that I needed a new 'leader' for that assault given I also killed Styr in chapter 34. Who better than the Lord of Bones himself?
I know that two weeks or so between leaving King's Landing, sailing to Eastwatch and riding to Castle Black is unrealistic. Ultimately though, it makes for better writing and I have the Season 8 precedent to go off of. This is ultimately a show fic, and one I want to be exciting. A month-long stalemate would be pretty boring and demoralising, so here we are.
Mazis means 'Come' in High Valyrian. Dracarys obviously means dragon fire. We've seen from the show that disciplined cavalry charges carve through Wildlings, so the initial fighting there wasn't overly long.
Valaxes (or Drogon as you will all know him) is about the size he is when he roasts those goats in Season 4, so while he knocked a chunk of the Wall off and made a bit of a waterfall in the process, he can't destroy enough to cause a massive problem for the Night's Watch.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next one will also be a big one with a lot of scenes taking us over into Season 5 in the timeline that I'll hopefully get out next week.
Next Time: Luke and Mance Rayder discuss terms and the Siege of the Eyrie comes to an end.
Reviews:
Anaconda: It's Syrax, the shape of the skull matches the promo poster and Syrax's eyes are green in the funko pop. It's also been confirmed as Syrax by one of the lucky YouTuber's that went to the premiere.
C.E.W: That was his plan in the actual show after all, he was going to send hundreds of men up the walls. Yeah, I'm not to fussed on travel times myself, I've not made them teleport but they've arrived quickly having already been gathered and prepared. I don't think we'll see Jaehaerys that much myself, probably just the opening scene depending on how long Harrenhal lasts. His impact should rightfully be massive though.
John B Good: It's a show fic, I've done a Season 8 and amped up the travel times because it makes for better writing in my opinion.
Darbiboi: Funny you mention that… I'm not thinking about a Daemon/Mysaria child, but a Daemon/Rhea Royce child…