An early upload for you all to finish up the Long Night part of this story! Once again I'll keep this short and just jump straight into the action…
I only own the OC's I've created. All actual characters and locations are the property of George R R Martin and HBO.
Rhaegal had been pretty badly wounded by the clash of dragons above Moat Cailin and it was an aching and bruised Jon Snow that stumbled off of the green and bronze scaled dragon after crashing back down to the ground, taking out a handful of tents in the makeshift camp as he went. After ensuring that the dragon was comfortable however Jon turned back towards the North, where the fight was still ongoing. He raced through Moat Cailin, taking care to keep to the Kingsroad path as he did, and passed the trebuchets that were still firing into the distance. Past that however, and he was into the fight.
Bodies were everywhere. Men with armour from all over Westeros lay unmoving in their hundreds as they had used their last breaths to stumble or crawl away from danger. Jon had to step over Reachmen, Westermen and his fellow Northmen before he had needed to even lift his sword, and once he had joined the fray the dead were even more numerous as the corpses included Wights and men from all across Westeros. Making sure to parry away a man with rotting Dustin armour before slashing him solidly in the side, Jon tried to look up. Banners were mingled with the men and Jon's eyes were focused for one sigil above all else. He spotted it after cutting down half a dozen further wights, as the ripped cloth depicting the grey Direwolf's head flew stiffly in the freezing cold. Having a direction, Jon set off there, though all around him the fighting was at its most brutal.
A trumpet sounding blast caused Jon to turn his head back, and he heard a small cheer coming from the direction of the golden skull banners. Even Jon had a grin on his face when he saw the source of the noise, as two dozen armoured and spiked war elephants came charging down the Kingsroad. Sturdier than horses, Jon thought that it was about time they made an entrance, as he stood transfixed as the ground beneath him began to tremble. A whole range of emotions filled the Northerner, from awe and hope, to sheer fear as he realised they were charging straight at him. There was little time to dwell on that however as another wight charged at him with the familiar sounding cry, and Jon carved the wight in half with his Valyrian Steel blade at the exact moment the elephants charged around him.
The lead elephant, the largest of the group, clattered straight into a one-eyed giant and knocked it flying. From the back of the four-legged beast arrows and spears were fired down into the giant's body, though it was still moving and groaning. Jon raced towards it, ducking a rusty axe on his way and he slashed out once with Longclaw to cut deeply into the giant's cheek before plunging Longclaw into its remaining eye.
Once he withdrew it he noticed that the Stark banner had moved, and it was closer to the burning fires left behind by Valaxes. Grunting Jon raced towards it, stepping over more bodies including one of the Kingsguard as he raced to his sister. Dozens of wights had fallen to Longclaw by the time he reached the Northern lines, using all of his weight to bundle a seven-foot wight away from a man of the Night's Watch before thrusting Longclaw deep within the large dead man.
"JON!" Jaime Lannister roared, getting Jon's attention as the Kingslayer dispatched with two of the dead before pointing his sword towards Arya.
Jon saw her there, spinning and slashing away at any who came rushing at her. By her feet however he also noticed some familiar bodies including Arthur Glenmore and Wylis Manderly. What was more worrying than that, however, was Arya's next opponent.
The Night King had its piercing blue eyes fixed upon the Lady of Winterfell. Jon growled as he began to sprint towards her, barely even registering the rest of the White Walkers that had entered the fight, nor even the blasts of dragon fire that were dangerously close. He was almost within grasp of defending his little sister when he was body slammed to the ground.
Coughing as he tried to regain his senses, Jon just about noticed the large axe being swung down at him. Rolling out of the way over the body of a Night's Watchman, Jon rose to one knee, parrying the second axe blow before jumping up and impaling the jaw of who Jon now recognised as the Smalljon. With no time to mourn however Jon pulled the blade out and shoved the now still body of the Umber away, just in time to see the Night King lock blades with Arya.
"ARYA!" He cried, trying to force his way over there. He immediately wished he hadn't shouted however, as Arya's focus dropped for half a second, but it was enough time for an ice sword to pierce through her armour smoothly and protrude out of her back. "NO!" Jon cried out once more, but he was too late. The Night King pulled its sword out of Arya and picked her up by the neck, throwing her towards Jon in a taunting manner. Jon scrambled over to where she had fallen and knelt down, Longclaw in one hand and Arya's head cradled in the other.
"PROTECT THEM!" Somebody called out, but Jon barely registered it. His focus was on the shallow breaths of his sister in his arms. He brought his sword hand to push down on the wound, hoping in vain that he could save her.
"Stay with me." Jon cried, tears welling up in his eyes. "Please… you're all I have left."
Arya shook her head weakly, her bloody hands reaching up to stroke Jon's face. "Survive…" She said weakly. "Promise… promise me… you'll survive."
Jon nodded immediately. "I promise." He choked out. That seemed to be enough for Arya, as she closed her eyes contently and breathed her last.
Once Jon had run away from him, Jaime Lannister had immediately rallied anybody nearby and followed on. The lines of the living had broken and there was no order whatsoever, and so he was ecstatic to see that two of the elephants were also fighting in the same sort of direction. He spotted the Umber barrel Jon over and get killed again for it, but it was the sight of Arya Stark's death that truly knocked Jaime back.
"PROTECT THEM!" He called out, racing to block the path of the Night King. Thankfully, he looked around and saw that around a dozen had joined him. Jaime stared into the Night King's blue eyes and scowled, as he knew they were both thinking about the last encounter between the pair of them. As if not to be outdone, the Night King cocked his head and was quickly surrounded by three of his blue faced minions before once again smirking towards Jaime. The Lannister tightened his grip on the sword that Tyrion had gifted him before the Kingslayer had spoken his vows, knowing that it might be the last battle both he and the sword faced together. He looked around at his new companions, truly seeing that Westeros had fully united as he saw the variety. Beside him stood Wildlings, Stormlanders, Reachmen, Dornishmen, Essosi, Rivermen, Valemen… people from all over the continent that had banded together to face the only threat that mattered.
The White Walkers were the ones to make the first move drawing Jaime back to the fight at hand, only for an unsurprising source to be the first of the living to make contact. "HODOR!" Hodor roared, his eyes flashing white like a man possessed, the Valyrian Steel greatsword Ice in his hands. It was clumsy, but the strong blows from the simpleton surprised the White Walker mere moments before the famous sword bit into the armour of the Walker and it shattered.
"FOR THE LIVING!" Jaime was the first to react as he charged forwards, unsheathing his Dragonglass dagger at the same time. He ducked under the first blow, swiping his sword back and slamming it against the White Walker to no great effect, but behind him had been Baelor Hightower, the wielder of Vigilance who dispatched with the stunned White Walker quickly.
The last one wasn't quite so easy to kill however, and Aemon Estermont was the first to fall, quickly followed by Karsi and Jaime's own cousin, Lyonel Frey. Not having time to react however Jaime noticed the Night King was also advancing. Growling, the Kingslayer went for the greater threat, hoping that Jon Snow had been right days earlier. Jaime's first parry was with the Dragonglass dagger, a painful one that caused a jolt in his left hand as the weapon was knocked to the ground. His second parry was as expected though, as the ice weapon shattered the Casterly Rock forged steel into thousands of pieces.
Stepping back out of range, Jaime tried to entice the Night King to step forwards and commit. "I'm unarmed." He taunted. "Come on!"
He was then flanked by the Knight of the Ring, Samwell Roxton, who defended Jaime from the incoming blow with a sword that Jaime had thought long since lost in Orphan-Maker. It gave Jaime time to turn around and pick up the nearest weapon to him on the ground, looking back in time to see Sam Roxton's body fly one way, and his head the other.
Looking around quickly Jaime noticed that it was now just him and the heir to Oldtown standing out of their large group. Panting, the Kingslayer scowled once more at the Night King. "Let's dance then," He snarled, before lifting the thin blade in his hands and slashing down at the Night King, noting quite quickly that his sword didn't shatter.
Atop Valaxes Luke could see that the battle was descending into madness. He was doing his best to limit the numbers of the wights, but as the numbers on both side began to dwindle time became of the essence as Luke was constantly fearful of the Night King, having inevitably survived both the fall and the Wildfire, would end up raising all of the thousands upon thousands of bodies. That was part of the reason why the Targaryen's strafing runs were also on the piles of dead, as he hoped to limit those that would rise again.
The sight of the elephants had perked Luke up however, and seeing the carnage that his now second favourite mount was reaping on the Army of the Dead gave him a small burst of motivation, though he knew that flying too close to them would simply spook the Golden Company's greatest weapon. He kept surveying however, noticing Chains and the lead elephant take out a giant before the clearly recognisable Jon Snow finished it off. Valaxes jolted off on another flaming pass over the army of the dead, but as Luke looked around more and more were dropping as White Walkers were taken out.
The largest concentration of wights however were converging around the men of the Reach, and the Targaryen noticed that Chains' elephant had been brought down as wights swarmed it. Luke urged Valaxes to turn, heading over to the fallen elephant and nearby where his Goodbrother Ser Loras was fighting valiantly but desperately trying to avoid being overran, when in the corner of his eye he saw a stand-off. The Night King and three White Walkers standing off against a dozen or more people, one of whom was Jon Snow, kneeling on the ground and looking like he was cradling something.
Time almost stood still as the King needed to make a choice between families, his past with his brother's son, the talented swordsman that seemed to not want anything to do with his true heritage, or his present, and the family that he had created with his wife and Queen. Snarling at the choice he knew he needed to make, Luke veered Valaxes to the left, where Ser Loras had been knocked over. Valaxes let out a powerful jet of flames, bombarding into the ground nearby the Tyrell force and incinerating wights mere metres away from the living. Luke stared backwards as they passed over Loras, hoping that his trust in Jon Snow wasn't misplaced.
The noise surrounding him disappeared, as all that mattered to Jon Snow in that moment lay unmoving and unbreathing in his arms. The blood of his sister, the blood of House Stark, the last surviving trueborn child of the man he had called his Father, dead in Jon's arms because he was too slow, too weak… "Too Targaryen." Jon whispered, stroking Arya's hair away. If he had been there, on the ground with her… she would still be alive, he knew it.
Jon looked up then, seeing in front of him the bodies had mounted up. He spotted Karsi first and his heart dropped for her daughters, before Hodor… sweet Hodor was also on the ground, Ice firmly in his hands as his blood ebbed away.
Gently placing Arya down on the floor, Jon pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before he pulled himself to his feet. Longclaw hanging down as Arya's blood dripped down its hilt and onto the ground from where it had drenched his hands. Jon took one step around Arya, and then slowly moved forwards in seeming slow motion, his dark eyes fixated on the Night King as the crowned demon pulled his blade out of Baelor Hightower to parry Ser Jaime away, before the Night King struck the Lannister with its free hand. Fire raged all around him and the fighting was still as intense, but Jon was single minded as he swung the dripping red Longclaw around his head before lashing out at the Night King. Blow after blow came from Jon as he brought every angry thought he had into his sword arm. He thought of Robb, of whom he had chosen Arya and Ygritte over causing his brother and best friend's death. He thought on Bran, who he had failed too. Of Arya, who died because of him…
More names filled his mind then, Sam Tarly, Gilly, their son, Mance Rayder… countless people who had put their trust in him and had died because of it. Jon's scowl turned into a growl as he vowed to himself that nobody else would die. He struck left, struck right, struck heavily as he battered the Night King's iced sword with Longclaw, the remnants of Arya's blood flying and hitting both Jon and the Night King at the power of Jon's forceful strikes. On and on Jon went, battering the Night King's defences until the impossible happened, and the iced sword buckled under the force and shattered.
Jon almost stumbled forwards as his swing threatened to unbalance him, but nobody was more shocked that the Night King. Eyes wide and staring down at his now empty hands, the blue eyes narrowed into a cold glare as he brought his hands up at his sides, an action that Jon had seen before. Determined to stop it and with a loud, audible cry, Jon thrust Longclaw deep into the Night King's heart.
The force of the Night King shattering into millions upon millions of tiny ice shards sent him flying backwards and he crashed into the ground with a painful thud. Calmly accepting the pain, Jon simply stared up into the night sky, watching as the clouds dissipated and the stars began to shine down on him brightly.
The moment the Night King fell would stay with Lucerys Targaryen until the day he died. He was high in the sky and bearing down on his nephew and their enemy as he saw Jon battering the Night King's sword before finally overpowering and shattering the lead White Walker. As soon as that had happened the vast battlefield all around shifted, as White Walkers shattered without anybody nearby and the Army of the Dead dropped to the ground unceremoniously and all at once. It took a moment to believe it, but the victorious roar from Valaxes shocked him back into his system and a wide grin spread across Luke's face.
He encircled the battlefield the once, allowing Valaxes to cry out victoriously as they went, before spotting the grouped together white cloaks. "Down!" Luke called out to his dragon, and Valaxes obeyed, descending and landing nearby the Kingsguard knights.
He took them all in individually. Ser Lorimas was sat down and dabbing snow on his bleeding cheek, while Ser Taron seemed relatively unharmed. Luke then looked for his oldest friend Ser Rolly, and noticed that his chest plate was bent and battered and his cloak had been severed at the top of his back. Luke immediately went to hug his friend. "You made it."
Rolly embraced him tightly back. "It was a close thing, Ser Barristan saved my life by cutting my cloak or I'd have been trampled…" Rolly shivered, and Luke took the time to spot his Lord Commander.
Ser Barristan leaning heavily on his sword and panting beside the Hand of the King, but he was still standing and that sight warmed Luke more than anything. He stepped forwards again and placed a gentle hand on his Lord Commander's shoulder. "Barristan, are you alright?"
The Stormlander nodded. "I will be." He said tiredly.
"Your air support was most valuable, Your Grace." Randyll Tarly stated formally. "I regret that my own command wasn't quite as effective."
Luke shook his head firmly. "None of that, Randyll." He ignored the frown on the Hand of the King's face. "We will have time for formality and looking back on what we could have done better, but for now, let us appreciate the fact that we still have our lives at the very least." He then looked around, but in the thick of the bemused mass of those that had survived the battle, he couldn't see Jon anywhere. "For now, we collect our dead. And perhaps, if we have enough, some wine."
The stern Reachman let out a small smile at that. "As you say, Your Grace." He bowed, before limping away, Heartsbane still gripped tightly in his hand.
Turning back to his Kingsguard, Luke offered an arm out to his Lord Commander. "Come, Barristan. You will take my bed tonight as you rest." He could see the formation of a rebuttal. "No arguments, I want to hear all about your own fight…"
Luke looked around at the carnage as Ser Barristan put his arm around his shoulder, the King carrying most of his weight. There would be time to mourn properly later, he thought to himself. There would be time for everything later.
While Luke helped Ser Barristan inside Moat Cailin, Jon was also being helped as two arms hauled him to his feet. "Jon." Grenn said softly to Jon's left. "Can you hear me?" Jon nodded slowly, and he heard the breath of relief come from his friends mouth. "Praise the Gods…"
"Aye." Jaime Lannister seemed to agree from Jon's right, before silence fell between them. Jon looked around then, seeing the grounds of the North were littered with tens of thousands of bodies. The cost had been severely high, he thought to himself. That was when he knew he had forgotten something and turned sharply, frantically looking around for red hair. "Calm yourself Jon, you're alright."
"Ygritte…" He whispered hoarsely. "Where…"
"Alive, last I saw." Grenn stated quickly. "We'll find her."
Another tear escaped Jon's eye as the body near his feet became visible once more, and his knees buckled as he fell down, his hand once again resting on Arya. All around him the warriors that survived were wandering around in shock, not knowing what to do or say, or simply just trying to find their own loved ones.
"Nobody knows what to do." Jaime remarked, and Jon noticed that he was gripping Dark Sister tightly as if a surprise attack was imminent. "It's like we haven't actually won."
"We didn't win." Jon stated bluntly, looking at the peaceful face of his sister. "Not really."
And he truly believed that. Even when Ygritte flung her arms around him, her red hair matted and tangled, mixed with blood and gods only knew what else, Jon knew that this would never feel like a true victory to him. He might have survived the Long Night, but he had also lost far too much in the process, and that loss would weigh on him for as long as he lived, he knew it.
While not all of them have been named, and not all of them matter in the grand scheme of the story, for my own records I've listed the names of the nobles that have died… there is almost 90 of them. This chapter has been brutal when it comes to the death toll. There are some meaningful ones however, mainly being Franklyn Flowers and Arya Stark… the latter of which has an extremely profound effect on Jon in the future.
Thank you all for reading this chapter! It was a sad one but I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless.
Next Time: The Living bid a final farewell to their dead, as they begin to look to the future.
Reviews:
suppes1: About that… sorry!
DonquixoteMel: I went more into the roles of the respective Targaryen's in Jon's most recent vision. Luke's role was to ensure that the army was gathered and ready, Dany's was the emotional drive, and Jon is the Prince that was Promised.
1shinChan: I've already spoken about this. All reddit votes for Game of Thrones stories have been halved in my overall tally and it's still pretty close. I'd class myself as a Game of Thrones writer though, as that is what I enjoy the most.
Tony: The topic of Daeron will be briefly looked into in the last chapter, but he will play a part in the sequel.