Jon is pressed against a wall, panting and exhausted. As he peers around the corner, a mass of battling wights pours into the far passage as the gate gives way. Jon runs back into the courtyard. Fires burn everywhere. Jon slays a wight, and turns to run. He turns a corner to escape the attacks, and presses himself against the wall.
—--
Theon fights with all he has, slaying wights as they set upon him. Bran continues to warg. The Night King has reached the godswood, and walks calmly towards Bran, leading a procession of White Walkers.
—--
Jorah and Aldarra fight off the wights back to back. One of the wights slashes a deep gash into Jorah's shoulder. He falls.
—--
As fires rage nearby, Tormund loses his footing as he fends off the wights. Jamie and Podrick have their backs against the wall as the undead overwhelm them. Brienne screams as a wight bites at her shoulder. Sam sniffles as he leans exhausted and helpless on a pile of his fallen comrades.
—--
The Night King and the White Walkers stride through the godswood. Theon lands one mortal blow after another to keep the charging wights away from Bran. He pauses, doubled over, exhausted and gasping for breath. The wights stop their attack and stand motionless. They part to allow the Night King to walk through. Bran returns to consciousness. Theon looks at the Night King, who stands motionless amid his followers.
Bran said, "Theon." Theon turns to look at Bran.
Bran said, "You're a good man." Theon nods.
Bran said, "Thank you." Theon takes a breath. A single tear falls from his eye, and he looks down. He turns back to face the Night King and gives the slightest of nods at his foe. The Night King takes a step forward. Theon readies his spear, then charges the Night King with a battle yell. Theon runs the length of the clearing at full tilt. In a single motion, the Night King side steps Theon's attack, grabs the spear, breaks it in two, and impales Theon through the gut. Theon grunts, looks up at the Night King's expressionless face, and falls quivering to his knees. The Night King shifts his gaze to Bran. Theon falls and Bran looks down.
—--
Jon remains pinned behind a wall and tries to dart past them. Jon scampers behind a ruined wall, and lies prone, trapped by the horses of undead.
—--
Theon lies on the ground, the half spear piercing his stomach. He twitches and looks up at the Night King. The Night King walks on, leaving Theon to draw his final breath as blood pours from his mouth
—--
Aldarra helps Jorah up from among the glowing, devastated landscape. A wight charges Aldarra from behind, and Jorah throws himself into the way. The undead's blade penetrates Jorah's heart. Aldarra stabs the wight in return. Another wright attacks Jorah, who parries and forces his blade up into his chest. Jorah struggles to his feet. Aldarra extends a grateful and comforting touch on his elbow.
—--
The Night King walks slowly towards Bran, who sits impassively waiting for him.
—--
Jon remains pinned behind the broken wall. JON winces and pants.
—--
The Night King draws closer. Bran does not look at him as he closes the final steps to his wheelchair. The Night King stops just next to Bran's chair. Bran turns his head and looks up. Their eyes meet and they ponder one another. The Night King cocks his head slightly.
—--
Bran and the Night King calmly look eye-to-eye. The Night King reaches back to unsheathe his weapon from its shoulder scabbard. A faint wind moves the hair of a nearby White Walker. As the Night King is about to grab the hilt of his sword, Arya appears, leaping through the darkness at the Night King's back. Her scream gives her away and the Night King swivels around, grabbing her by the throat with one hand and holding her knife hand with the other. Arya drops her knife, made of valyrian steel, and the Night King's eyes follow its descent. Arya catches the knife in her free right hand and buries it in the Night King's stomach with a grunt. The Night King shatters into tiny ice shards, which rain down where he once stood. Arya lands crouching on her hands and feet, panting.
One by one, the White Walkers explode into ice shards. The crowd of wights that surround Bran and Arya fall over, lifeless as rag dolls.
—--
The horde of undead collapse to the ground, falling away from those they were just battling. Many others tumble from the parapet into the courtyard.
—--
The undead pyramid of wights that had been used to scale the wall collapses. The waves of undead rushing towards Winterfell drop to the ground.
—--
When the undead collapse, Jorah falls to his knees, Aldarra standing just behind. Jorah slumps to the ground
Jorah said, "I'm hurt."
—--
Jon just stares in disbelief.
—--
Tormund, Gendry, and are stunned. They look out at the lifeless mounds of friend and foe. Nearby, Brienne, Jamie, and Podrick, lean against the wall, dumbfounded at their sudden escape from certain death.
—--
Sansa stands motionless. Varys walks up from behind, leading women and children to join them. Gilly stands with Little Sam. The undead have turned into piles of dust and bone fragments.
—--
Arya looks out from the weirwood. A gentle snow falls. She looks back at Bran. He looks back, pleased.
—--
Aldarra sobs in complete anguish over Jorah's listless body. He tries to say something, but goes still, eyes glazed by death. As she sobs, Drogon lands and curls loosely around her to comfort her.
—--
The Hound comes out of the darkened doorway, followed by Melisandre. The Hound stops, bent over in relief, but Melisandre continues, walking out the gate and down a snowy aisle flanked by piles of the dead. Davos appears at the gate and watches her walk towards the snowy field beyond. As she walks, she first sheds her red cloak, then her metal choker. Her gait becomes unsteady and her hair turns from red to white. Her dress slides off her shoulders as she shrinks, aging countless years in seconds. She gives off a cloud of dust as she collapses into an emaciated and lifeless pile.
—--
Jorah Mormont's body lies on an unlit funeral pyre. Aldarra mourns over his prone body. She leans down and kisses him gently on the forehead. She then whispers something in his ear. She whispered, "I'll always cherish your love because it's something no one will ever know about but the two of us. And that's a memory I'll hold onto forever."
Sansa weeps over Theon Greyjoy's dead body, her hand on his chest. She steps back, takes a Stark direwolf pin from her chest, and secures it on Theon's.
Jon, Arya, Rickon, Sam, and Bran stand amidst the Stark men, some of whom bear torches. Aldarra joins the crowd a bit further down, next to Varys taking his hand in hers, an injured Tyrion and Shae. In front of the crowd are scores of funeral pyres in a grid. Stark soldiers stand at intervals with more torches. Sansa returns to the somber crowd, joining her siblings. Even Ghost stands obediently in mourning. Jon steps forward to address those assembled.
Jon said, "We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers and mothers. To our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences to fight together and die together so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory for those who come after us and those who come after them for as long as men draw breath. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men. And we shall never see their like again."
Soldiers and Free Folk hand torches to Jon, Sansa, Arya, Sam, Tormund, Aldarra. They fan out to various pyres in the field, joining their fallen comrades for one final farewell: Arya to Beric Dondarrion, Sam to Dolorous Edd Tollett, Jon to Lyanna Mormont. Jon looks at Aldarra as she nods. As one, they ignite the pyres. Aldarra watches the flames spread under Jorah, then turns away. The living return to the crowd and the flames rise higher. The air fills with a thick black smoke.
—--
The victory feast is somber and quiet, even though the Great Hall is filled to capacity. At the head table sits Bran, Sansa, Jon, Aldarra, Shae and Tyrion.
A man walked by and said, "To your health."
In the crowd, Gendry looks around. He turns back to the table where Sandor eats hungrily. Gendry takes a drink.
Gendry asked, "Have you seen Arya?"
Sandor said, "You can still smell the burning bodies, and that's where your head is at."
Gendry said, "I just want to thank her for…"
Sandor said, "I'm sure you do."
Gendry said, "Look, it's not about that."
Sandor said, "Of course it's about that, you twat. Why shouldn't it be? The dead are dead. You're not."
Sandor takes a deep gulp of his wine. Gendry gets up, insulted. He walks the length of the hall to exit, but Aldarra notices him as he passes the head table.
Aldarra said, "Gendry, right?" Gendry stops and faces her. The hall goes even quieter. Gendry approaches her.
Gendry said, "Yes, my lady."
Aldarra said, "You're Robert Baratheon's son?" Gendry nods.
Gendry said, "I didn't even know he was my father until after he was dead."
Aldarra said, "Yes, he's dead and so is almost all of the Baratheon family. Stannis' daughter Shireen isn't dead. She's my little girl now. Did you know you still have a cousin in this world?"
Gendry said, "I didn't know."
Aldarra said, "There is only Shireen to manage Storms End. If I can get you instated as a legitimate Baratheon. Would you be interested in helping Lady Shireen?" No one in the hall said a word.
Aldarra said, "I think you should be Lord of Storm's End with Shireen." The crowd murmurs.
Gendry said, "I can't be. I'm a bastard."
Aldarra said, "I see if we can fix that, then you will be Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End, the lawful son of Robert Baratheon. I'd like to help you." Gendry smiled and nodded in shock and surprise. At a nearby table, Davos stands and raises his glass.
Davos said, "To the future Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End." Everyone in the hall rises to their feet to salute Gendry and cheers.
Gendry takes a goblet from the smiling Jon. Gendry salutes the hall. They cheer in response.
Sandor, still sitting, shakes his head and returns to shoveling food into his mouth. The hall continues to cheer.
Tyrion said, "A fitting reward for a hero. And a Lord of Storm's End is born."
Aldarra tickled Tyrion, making him laugh. Shae laughed at him. She said, "See? You're not the only one who's clever. Besides, Shireen needs a nice relative." Sansa looks at Aldarra smiling at her.
—--
The mood has lightened. The merry crowd laughs and enjoys themselves. The wine flows freely. A server places a carafe of wine on the table in front of Brienne and Jamie. Brienne covers the top of her goblet but Jamie removes her hand.
Jamie said, "We fought dead things and lived to talk about it. If this isn't the time to drink, when is it?"
Jamie pours wine for Brienne and himself. Brienne watches, a bit nervous. They clink glasses and drink together.
—--
Davos and Tyrion stand talking about Melisandre.
Davos said, "The last time I saw her, I told her I'd kill her if I ever saw her again."
Tyrion said, "I know you had your reasons."
Davos said, "I did."
Tyrion said, "So did you?"
Davos said, "Never got the chance. She did it to herself. Or her god did it to her. Lord of Light. We play his game for him, we fight his war and win, and then he fucks off. No signs, no blessings. Who knows what he wants?"
Tyrion said, "I don't imagine thinking about that subject will leave you any happier than before."
Davos said, "And what if I'm not trying to be happy?
Tyrion said, "Then you're in luck. We may have defeated them, but we still have us to contend with."
Davos said, "Thank you. I feel much better."
Davos takes the wine that Tyrion has poured for him and drinks. Tyrion leaves.