Alright, here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy.
Darkness Reborn
Chapter 6
Sansa awoke with a start, visions of bloodletting and howling filling her mind's eye as she shot upright.
Her eyes quickly adjusted to the surrounding woods. The sun just starting to peak over the horizon left everything bathed in darkness.
Leaves and mud pressed against her bare skin, and the cold danced across her flesh but didn't seem to pierce it.
Her eyes danced to and fro, until lowering to her body.
Her eyes widened in horror. Dried blood caked her legs, her stomach, her chest. Her arms were dyed nearly black from blood and dirt, up to the elbows. Gore could be seen under her nails, and even now she could taste the harsh iron of blood upon her lips.
"Awake?" A familiar voice inquired. Sansa turned sharply, her gaze falling onto her half-brother. Jon Snow.
She stared at him wide eyed and in shock for several long moments before it sunk in that she was completely naked.
Her arms moved to cover herself and she shrunk away from him, her mind trying desperately to recall where she was, and how she had gotten here.
Jon simply laughed at her, tilting his head and eyeing her with a curious gaze.
"Jon..." Sansa began, her mind taking her back to her bedroom, where he had been waiting. Where he had started to undress her, and to where he had bitten her.
Her hand quickly shot to her shoulder, and her eyes fell down. There, upon her right shoulder, in the soft flesh was a visible scar in the form of a bite mark. The teeth though were all wrong, too sharp to have been human.
That's when her mind began to race, remembering waking up after feeling so cold. Waking up and feeling strong. Stronger than she ever had. Waking up and feeling desires, needs that she desperately tried to force Jon to fulfill. Than she was suddenly in the forest… and he… changed.
Her eyes slowly rose to him, and he smirked back, a predatory smirk. Malicious, cruel, and absolutely enticing. Almost like he knew what she was thinking, almost like he could see into her very soul.
His eyes flashed like emerald fire, a more vibrant green than she had ever seen. Her mind was filled with so many thoughts. Anger, despair, terror, confusion, lust, fear. All danced in her mind. What had he done to her? What had she done in response?
Her eyes remained locked on him for several long moments as she started to crawl away. This was to confusing, to terrifying, she had to run away, had to tell someone. He had bitten her, tore her open, made her bleed. She should run, flee as far and as fast as she could before he hurt her again.
Her heart tore apart at the thought. She had to run, he had hurt her, nearly killed her. But she didn't want to run, her eyes trailed across his face, finding themselves drawn to his lips, she wanted to kiss him again. To hold him and be held in return. A thousand thoughts boiled inside of her, and in response, her head began to ache.
"You're confused. I don't blame you. You had one hell of night." Jon muttered, glancing over to something nearby.
Sansa slowly followed his gaze, as they settled upon the most disgusting sight, she had ever seen.
There, not twenty feet away, was the corpse of a doe. This doe had been torn to shreds, it was missing two of it's legs, it's guts were spread out across the forest floor, it's head had nearly been ripped clean from it's body, several of it's ribs were jutting out awkwardly, as if it had been struck by something large and heavy.
The only word that seemed to properly convey this creature's death, was that is had been slaughtered.
Her eyes shot back to Jon, than down to her own blood-soaked body, than back to Jon.
"That's a good look for you. Naked, covered in blood." Jon noted with a wolfish grin. Her eyes filled with fear at his words, and she felt sickness finally begin to manifest in the pit of her gut.
From nearby, a growl was heard, it was low and long. Sansa's eyes snapped to the sound, as a small wolf emerged from nearby. It took her only a moment to realize that it was Ghost. Blood soaked as she was, and against his pure white fur, it stood out clearly for her to see.
"What did you do to me?" Sansa muttered fearfully, her eyes drifting back towards Jon.
"I made you a werewolf. I gave you the power to control your own destiny." Jon responded.
"You bit me..." Sansa said quietly.
"You didn't want to marry Joffrey. So I gave you the strength to make your own choice. Sorry, but I did warn you it would hurt." Jon responded with a light chuckle.
"What are you?" She asked, her eyes locked onto the green glow of his eyes.
"I'm a monster, Sansa. Don't you remember?" Jon inquired, images of the giant wolf-like creature stalking out of the shadows, flashing in her mind.
Jon approached her, as she tried to slink away, terrified and whimpering. His look was monstrous, and feral, like he could attack her at any moment. He knelt by her side, and danced his fingers across her shoulder, causing her to shrink away from him and begin to shake.
He let out a snort of amusement and settled his hand on her shoulder. With a smirk, he apparated the two of them, back to her room. She fell to the floor letting out a cry of fear and surprise, quickly she crawled away from him, scampering across the floor to safety.
She found rest against a wall, her mind reeling from the sudden transportation.
Jon let out another laugh, and with a wave of his hand, vanished the dried blood from the floor, left over from the night before. He then used magic to remove all traces of the blood and grime from Sansa's body.
With all evidence of what happened removed, he approached her, and knelt down next to her.
"You've got two choices set out before you, Sansa. You can resist me, run away, hide, and I'll find you. You can tell your parents, and they'll forget the moment the words leave your mouth. You can run and get the guards, and I'll tear them to shreds, and make you watch. Or… you can join me. And I will show you what it means to be strong. You're a true wolf now Sansa, and wolves do not bow to the whims of sheep." Jon whispered to her, before rising to his feet with another wave of his hand, Sansa slumped, unconscious. He stared down at her for several long moments before redressing her, placing a glamour on her scar to hide it, and placing her in her bed.
The first part of his plan, set, he knew full well she wasn't going to tell anyone. Her fear and uncertainty would keep her in check. By putting her to sleep, she would awaken with memories of what had happened, but she wouldn't know for certain if it was true. She'd doubt herself, convince herself that it was all a dream, or a terrible nightmare.
As was the way of humans, especially those in denial.
He had planted the seeds with his affections, and now with this, she would one day be forced to choose. Her wolf blood would grow stronger and stronger, with every full moon, until finally she couldn't control herself anymore. She would start to change. She would slaughter and kill, without control, and she'd be forced to come to him for guidance.
But for now, doubt would allow her to hide in plain sight, and act as his agent.
After all, while dominating one's mind was one thing, and could gain a useful servant, it was when they chose to follow you, than they became truly loyal. A bit of encouragement along the way though, never hurts.
Besides that, he needed Sansa to be afraid of him for now. She would choose to walk with him in the shadows, eventually. But for now, he needed her to want to go south with her father. As one of his pack, Jon could now communicate with her via the connection forged between them when he turned her. In the south, she would, knowingly, or otherwise, serve as his agent, feeding him information on what was happening in the capital. And when the time was right, he could unleash her, and use her to cause all sorts of mayhem.
The girl was useful, but she wasn't overly skilled. The lessons a good spy would need to know in order for her to act as his agent, he didn't have the time to teach her, and Sansa was still a child, and prone to making mistakes. She would hide what happened to her, out of fear of him, and uncertainty of whether it had actually happened or not. In the future though, it would become obvious that something was wrong, and she'd be forced to seek him out, no longer able to deny her dreams, but until then, business as usual was the way to go.
Luckily, Jon had the perfect excuse to make himself scarce here in Winterfell. With the King around, he was certain no one would raise a fuss if he slipped out of sight for a few days, and so long as he acted with the right amount of confusion at Sansa's uncertainty, and fear of him, he knew she'd begin to doubt herself even more.
For now, she would serve as an unwitting pawn, in the future she'd be a powerful tool, but at the moment, Sansa would be far more useful if she didn't know she was feeding him information.
That day, and for many to come, Sansa avoided Jon like the plague. Just as he anticipated she didn't tell anyone what had happened to her, and with his glamour hiding her scar, even she began to doubt that it was anything more than a dream. Slowly, over time, the scar faded away until it would be no longer visible, but until then, Jon could use his magic to maintain the illusion.
Sansa herself would tense up whenever he was near, but that was a rarity. In fact, at some point she began to wonder why he seemed so distant all of sudden.
One day, she finally had to muster the courage to approach him, she was nervous, and fearful, and she asked why he was avoiding her. She had been waiting to see that same devious grin from her dreams, or the emerald flame of his eyes, but instead he sighed and shook his head.
Telling her that he thought it would be easier this way. If they put distance between each other, then when she went south to marry Prince Joffrey, it wouldn't be so heartbreaking.
Sansa had been left stunned by his answer, and would later conclude that at least some of her 'dream' had actually been true. Her finding him in her room after the feast, telling him that she was going to marry the prince, even him kissing her, but where did real life end and the dream begin?
She didn't know, but it filled her with more doubt about her dream. She was now more certain than before that it had been nothing more than a twisted nightmare of some sort.
The two maintained their distance from one another, Sansa more sullen then before, as her fear faded.
Everything worked out just as Jon expected it too. Humans were so predictable, and having been one of them, once upon a time, made his manipulations of mankind much more effective than other races. The elves loved to boast that they were more hardy to such manipulations, that men were weak-willed. What they didn't understand was that Sauron had once been human, and knew the human mind, better then he did elves or dwarves. That was what made them easier to manipulate, there was no greater inborn resistance to such things. The elves that were twisted by Lilith were proof enough of that.
Regardless, for now, Sansa was following his plans for her, perfectly, and he had plenty of time to use her as his agent before she turned completely.
Her form of lycanthropy was different from the disease that had plagued his world as Harry Potter. Instead of turning during the full moon, she could actually turn at will, once all of the changes were upon her. For now, the disease would slowly take hold, making her more aggressive, stronger, more agile, and immune to sickness, and death by any non-magical weapons.
At night, she would dream of the hunt, her mind taking her to the forest, where she would feast on animals, and people to her heart's content. During the day, she would be normal, at least for the first few months. But slowly she'd become more feral, aggressive, angry, territorial, more wolf-like in general. During the full moons, she'd be unable to sleep, and the call to hunt and kill would be at it's strongest. Her powers would also fully manifest during the full moon, whether she wanted them too or not.
He would have to have agents follow her South to make sure her secret was kept. But they'd do nothing to help her tame the beast, no if she wanted control, she would have to come to him.
For now, it seems she was back to her old self, doing what she could to hide how depressed she was at having to leave without him.
Things were seemingly going as planned until Bran suddenly fell from one of the towers.
It was such a sudden and jarring thing. Luckily he had managed to survive, and under the Invisibility Cloak, Jon was able to sneak in, and read the boy's mind. The memories were fragmented and locked away, but Jon got a clear look and what had happened.
Queen Cersei and her twin brother, Ser Jaime, caught fucking in one of the towers. Ser Jaime being the one to shove Bran out of the tower, nearly to his death.
"How scandalous." Jon though with amusement, when he learned.
He could sympathize with their urges, after all, he knew better than most how it was to love your twin.
Still though, the Starks would make powerful werewolves one day, so having them killed off, at least the younger ones, wasn't part of the plan. He'd have to keep an eye on the situation, to make sure nothing more was attempted.
Eventually the time came for Ned and King Robert to depart south, back to King's Landing. Jon made it clear, around the time of their departure, that he had no intentions of remaining in Winterfell any longer. He was going exploring. That had been his excuse. It had earned an amused chuckle from Robb, but the new lord of Winterfell, wasn't about to stop him, knowing how much Jon hated being stuck in the castle.
While it obviously made Ned nervous, he was no longer really in a position to tell Jon, no. It was nice seeing the Quiet Wolf so nervous in the days leading up to their departure. When Sansa had heard, she feigned disinterest, but in reality spent most of the night hiding in her room, crying her eyes out, it finally settling in that they may not see each other again for a very long time.
Arya was sad, but also excited for him. Telling him that one day, she'd join him on his adventures. As thanks and to encourage her fiery nature, Jon had a small sword made for her. A light, thin blade, that would fit her size.
When she started to reach maturity in a few years time, Jon would find her, and turn her into a werewolf, but for now, he'd leave her be.
Before departing, in the cold of night, Jon snuck into Robb's room, infecting him with lycanthropy as well. Jon spent the night with Robb, Grey Wind and Ghost, hunting in the forests outside of Winterfell, and just like with Sansa, come morning, Jon made sure that Robb would awaken thinking it all a dream.
Jon's departure from Winterfell, came alongside the departure of the King's entourage. He had a touching goodbye with Robb, and Arya. Offering a silent goodbye to the still unconscious Bran. A quick goodbye with little Rickon, and finally with Sansa, he approached her the morning before they were meant to depart, offering her the gift of a beautiful mirror he claimed to have bought from town.
In reality the mirror was a two-way mirror, much like the ones he and Lilith shared. He intended to use the mirror to actively spy on her, as the mirror itself was always active, allowing him to hear everything that was said around it.
Jon could see that she was fighting the urge to kiss him one final time. To complete the image of a kind, noble, valiant brother, instead of kissing her on the lips, Jon hugged her and placed a kiss upon her forehead. A noble and kind act, to paint an image of him in her mind, one that contrasted with the nightmare that never truly faded.
It would be this contrast that would draw her back to him one day.
Time was of little concern. This plan had been in the works for centuries, the fall of the kingdoms of men could wait a bit longer.
Jon traveled with their caravan for a short while until reaching the King's Road. Once there, he intended to go north, along with his Uncle Benjen, and Tyrion Lannister, under the pretext of seeing the Wall.
"So… this is where we go our separate ways." Ned noted as the two groups began to split off.
"It would seem so." Jon responded coolly.
"Any plans for after you see the Wall?" Ned inquired, gazing at him inquisitively.
"Maybe I'll head south, see what kind of trouble I can find for myself. Or maybe I'll go to Essos. I'm not really sure. Being free to forge your own destiny is a gift, few men are given in life. I intend to make the most of it. The greatest gift of being a Snow. Nothing at all is expected of me. So long as I don't cause any problems for my true-born siblings, or my Lord Father, I'm free to do as I please." Jon responded, earning a grimace from Ned, sensing the underlying jab at the end of Jon's reply.
"You are a Stark, Jon. You may not have my name, but you have my blood." Ned said to him.
"I know." Jon replied, offering him a smile.
"Winterfell will always be your home. When the time comes, I'm sure you'll find your way back." Ned offered.
"Take care of yourself, Lord Stark." Jon responded.
"You as well, Jon." Ned said to him.
Jon nodded to him, turning his horse and riding after Benjen's company. As he made his way away from Lord Stark, he began to sing. His voice carrying out a song in elvish. The song itself, was actually a poem, meant to represent the danger's of the unknown, but Jon devilishly sang it in a merry tone. Enjoying the looks he got from those around, most assuming he was speaking gibberish.
He had some interesting discussions with Tyrion Lannister as they made their way north, aside from that, little else of note occurred. Eventually, they arrived at Castle Black. There Jon had the enjoyment of meeting some of the Black brothers, including Jeor Mormont, and Ser Alliser Thorne, though he did get the chance to meet Maester Aemon, an old Targaryen, who had become a maester a long time ago.
Jon spent the majority of his time there, standing atop the wall, gazing out into the North. From atop the wall, his gaze pierced through the winter landscape, deep into the land's beyond, where he knew Lilith's army was pushing south.
The time had come for him to return to his beloved sister. The excitement of such a prospect left him grinning for days, so much so that it earned great annoyance from individuals like Ser Alliser, who took every opportunity available to make sure Jon knew he wasn't wanted on the Wall, and that the Ser was not impressed by him in the slightest.
One day, seemingly out of nowhere, Jon departed over the wall with Ghost. His final preparations complete, with word reaching him from his forces at Moat Cailin that the king had passed by and some of the men there had joined the entourage in heading south. Among them would be individuals, who's purpose would be to keep an eye on Sansa, and keep her secret from getting out.
Since his departure from the Red Keep, no one had seen Annatar, and Moat Cailin was left in the hands of his servants, who continued to serve the North in his name, even with their lord's absence.
Now knowing that his servants had done their jobs, Jon Apparated over the wall and into the Land's of Always Winter.
His excitement nearly caused his body to begin shaking. He hoped Lilith would enjoy his new body, and he also hoped that at least some of her memories may have come back to her, as the diary he had left, contained his side of many of their shared memories, allowing her to view them, and experience them, as if she were there.
He hadn't seen her in sixteen years, the longest the two of them had gone without speaking, since being reunited centuries ago.
As he came closer to Tantibus Arcis, his eyes widened in excitement. The massive citadel was hidden within a near unending blizzard, within the storm though, the fires of war and industry bellowed outward.
As he moved towards the main tower, his eyes danced across the massive walled battlements and the great pits dug into the earth. Deep in these pits, he could see thousands of bodies, moving and working. Mining, digging, forging.
Great columns of steam rose from the massive pits, fires set by an unknown source, burned unceasingly, fueling the orc war machine.
Across the frozen surface, tens of thousands of wights, worked ceaselessly, constructing further battlements, towers, walls, forts. They never stopped, never tired. The few humans that resided within the dread fortress, knew their fate if they stepped out of line, even once. A gruesome death, followed immediately by being raised as an eternal servant of the Dark Lady of the Far North.
Jon arrived within the main tower, appearing before his sister's throne, set in a wide open hall, overlooking the fortress.
The hall itself was empty, and much to his delight he found her there, quietly sleeping upon her throne, forged of blackened rock.
Jon stared at her for a few moments, a pleasant smile crossing his face. That was so very like her, in both her lives. Always able to sleep, even in the seemingly most uncomfortable of positions.
Jon approached her, stepping quietly towards her slumbering form, careful not to wake her.
Once before her, he dropped silently to a knee, and then to a sitting position. For hours he sat, quietly watching her. Taking in her slumbering beauty. A hopeless romantic he might be, but also of note was his sister's temper. She enjoyed dreaming and didn't like to be awoken when she didn't have to be.
As he waited for her to awaken, he allowed himself to bask in memories of their childhood, of the days they would spend together, locked in their little closet under the stairs. How they would practice their magic, and speak to the insects, pretending they could speak back. It was a more innocent time, despite it's hardships. Sometimes he wondered if it were possible to go back to those days, back to when things were so much more gentle.
Slowly, she began to stir, breaking him out of his musings. Her eyes slowly opened, revealing deep emerald irises. Jon's heart nearly leaped out of his chest when he saw the green of her eyes, the same green they had shared when they were children. The green eyes she had lost, during her time as Melkor.
Those emerald green eyes, were the eyes of Lilith, his Lilith.
"Lilith?" Jon whispered her name. Her eyes quickly focused on him, for a moment, they analyzed him, taking in his new face, his new body. Than, her eyes ignited into hellfire, a blazing orange filling them as she rose to her feet, a devilish smile spreading across her face.
"Hello, baby brother." She stated in such a way that Jon felt shivers pass down his spine. Such a familiar address, in a way that reminded him of their shared past, of his life as Harry Potter.
With great speed she shot off of her throne, seizing him by the neck, and lifting him into the air.
Jon felt pressure crush against his throat, and felt her raw power assail his body. If she wanted to, she could unleash said power and tear his form apart. Despite their shared past, she had always been stronger than him, and over the years, that power difference only grew. Even now, after all these years, the secret to her source of power was still a mystery to him.
"I'm guessing that means you have your memory back?" Jon gasped out, looking down into her eyes.
"Indeed. Baby brother." She replied, throwing him across the room. He landed in the center of the hall, nearly twenty meters away. He let out a grunt of annoyance, and rose to a knee, but kept his head down, bowed in submission as he felt her approach.
"Two hundred and seventy four years, we fought. Nearly three centuries of nothing but hatred between us. And at the end of it all, you killed me. Now… it's been eons… and you've done nothing but serve me… why is that? Guilt? Masochism?" Lilith inquired, her voice calm, but with a deadly edge to it.
Internally, Jon cringed. This should have been expected. Perhaps in his hope for her memories to return, he should have also taken into account that there was two ways she could see such memories.
She would either remember as Melkor, or she would awaken as Lilith. It seems she experienced the latter. Feeling her original identity, coming back to the forefront of who she was. Not to say there was any real difference between them. Lilith and Melkor had always been mirror images of each other, the only difference was Melkor viewed things as a higher being and without many ties to the physical, while Lilith viewed things as a survivor, who crawled up from nothing. They were both arrogant, both temperamental, both desired to create great things, and forge a better world, both had iron wills, and incredible intelligence, both hated to sing, but loved music, both enjoyed being held, both enjoyed the quiet, both loved to explore, and experience life. They had always been the same person in his mind. Lilith or Melkor, it didn't matter. Who she had been and who she was, all that separated the two was a different starting point.
From the looks of things, Lilith was back, the true Lilith. And while that excited him to no end, he couldn't forget that her last memories of him, in fact most of her memories of him, were of the two of them as enemies, and at the end of it, her last memory, he held her in his arms, as she bled to death from a wound struck by him.
She was furious, he could tell. The tower was shaking as she approached him. If he looked outside, he knew he'd see a raging storm enveloping the entire fortress.
Another thing that separated the two, which made him a bit more nervous, Melkor was far more powerful than Lilith had been, and that said a lot, considering she nearly destroyed his original world, so long ago. Unfortunately for both of them, dearest Eru, beat her to it.
"Nothing to say for yourself?" Lilith demanded, her voice still lively, despite the anger in it. She was keeping her rage in check, not screaming or frothing at the mouth. Yet the shaking of her hands, indicated that she was barely keeping herself from destroying everything around her.
"I have no excuse. You know my reasons. He manipulated me. Made me believe things that weren't true. I fought for people who never truly loved me. I fought the one person that did, for a world that would never accept who I was. You were right about them. About all of it. I should have listened. I should have trusted you. There is no forgiving what I've done, so I wont even try. I am yours, now and forever." Jon replied, keeping his tone steady and quiet, and keeping his head bowed to her.
Lilith stared down at him, fire burning in her eyes, and shadow dancing at her feet. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze filled with rage.
"I did try and tell you, baby brother." She noted, angrily.
"I know. And I should have listened. I wanted so badly to be accepted by them, to be wanted, that I turned my back on the one person that needed me the most." Jon responded to her.
"Don't pretend like I'm some child anymore. The days where I needed you, have long since passed. Tell me why I shouldn't kill you?" Lilith responded, with a snarl.
"You always needed me. Ever since we were children. You never stopped needing me, and I never stopped needing you. That's why you shouldn't kill me. Because we need each other, we always have. We're strongest when we're together. We're actually happy, when we're together. I know you don't trust me, for what I did to you all those years ago, I'd never ask you to forget that life, only to remember that I have done nothing but serve you, since the day I made my way back to your side. I am yours, now and forever." Jon swore to her, knowing full well this may enrage her further.
"Now and forever? What a lofty promise. Though I will admit, it has been nice having you with me all these long years. But who is it you want to be with? Melkor, or me?" Lilith inquired, her gaze piercing into him.
Jon was quiet for a moment. He didn't say anything as he slowly raised his gaze to meet with hers.
"I gave you the name Lilith. Surely that should be enough of an answer." Jon replied to her question.
Lilith stared at him for several long moments, her blazing gaze growing more intense, though finally she let up, the fire in her eyes reducing to smoldering coals.
"I guess it is. Tell me, baby brother, what will you do now?" Lilith inquired.
"Serve you. As I have since we were reunited. Fight for our revenge against the man who turned us against each other. Dominate this world, and every world to come, all for you." Jon replied, his own gaze igniting into burning emerald flame.
A small smirk touched at Lilith's lips, as she reached out, caressing his face, almost lovingly.
"Than rise, and serve me." Lilith commanded, earning a smile and a resolute nod, Jon rose to his feet.
"An interesting new body, baby brother. It's strong, resilient. I do hope it was worth the effort." Lilith mused, examining.
"Jon Snow, was what Ned Stark named me. His bastard son. Lyanna Stark named me Aegon Targaryen. A name that'll suite us well in our march south. I am the rightful king of Westoros, and that will earn the allegiance of many southern houses. I've cultivated a friendship with Robb Stark, the current ruler of Winterfell, Ned Stark's Eldest son. I've seduced his eldest daughter Sansa, and turned the both of them into werewolves. My ties to the Stark children are strong, and will guarantee an alliance with the North, when we cross over, we just have to time things correctly. Otherwise, my garrison at Moat Cailin is ready and willing to serve, four hundred men, loyal and practiced." Jon informed her.
Lilith turned from him, running his accomplishments over the last sixteen years, through her mind. Turning the future lords of the North into his pawns would indeed be useful, and would allow them to take nearly half the land on the continent before having to face any sort of mobilized force. Yes this would work splendidly.
"What's been going on here since my departure?" Jon inquired, walking by her side.
"Our forces have amassed splendidly. Here in the Land of Always Winter, our largest force has gathered, numbering a few hundred thousands at last count. Orcs, Uruks, Spiders, Caragors, Wargs, Olegs, Graugs, Mammoths, Men, Wights, and other beastly abominations. I've had your Nazgûl, use their Morgul blades to begin turning the strongest of our human servants into Cargûl. They number at nearly sixty now." Lilith explained to him as they made their way through one of the side entrances of the hall and into a meeting chamber of sorts. A large round chamber, meant for the seating of nearly a hundred various warchiefs and commanders.
"What of Mordor, Dol Guldur, and Arcem Ossa?" Jon inquired as he kept pace with her.
"Arcem Ossa is nearing a hundred thousand strong, as well as some of my newest creations. Giant armored boars to be ridden into battle, giant scorpions to serve as siege and shock troops, Cargûl have been created there as well, nearing twenty. Mordor's numbers have amassed greatly, nearing two hundred thousand in total, though I've ordered most of them to gather far to the east of Mordor, away from the eyes of the Men of Gondor. I sent one of the Nazgûl to Dol Guldur, there he has made an alliance with a powerful Warchief of the Moria orcs, Azog the Defiler, and has gained an alliance with the orcs from Mount Gundabad. All my interactions on the other side have been done through an agent that came to me while you were away. A Black Númenórean. He arrived in Mordor from the east, looking for you, I believe. I have trained him in the ways of black sorcery, and he now operates as the Mouth of Sauron, at his side are the Black Captains, the Black Hand, the Hammer, and the Tower. All three command our forces in Mordor, preparing our armies to launch an attack on the fortresses of men across the land. Upon our orders, they are ready to reclaim Mordor." Lilith explained to him, earning a cruel smirk from Jon in process.
On his own, he would have never managed to amass such a force, they were definitely closing in, if not already over a half a million soldiers in total, combining all of their armies from Middle Earth, and here. Their forces would shake the earth upon a day, when they marched upon the free people of the world.
He was definitely looking forward to seeing the great abominations Lilith had conjured during his absence in the south, in preparation for their war. With her memories of her first life returned to her, she had no doubt taken the time to enhanced her soldiers, her body, and even her fortress with some of her old tricks, and possibly even some new ones she had come up with.
"The Wildlings are being slaughtered by our raiding parties. More and more my army pushes them towards the Wall. Since you've been gone, most of them have united under a King, Mance Rayder. Now they push south, desperately trying to cross the Wall in the hopes of finding safety there. We will break them upon that mighty wall, and force them to either submit, or die." Lilith informed him, earning a resolute nod from Jon.
"What would you have me do?" Jon asked of her.
"I am preparing a massive force for an assault on the Wall. I would have you lead it. Take our forces south, crush the Wildlings and the Night's Watch. Take the Wall, and the castles along it and prepare for our invasion of the south." Lilith commanded, earning a resolute nod from Jon.
"I have a gift for you, Baby brother, before you depart." Lilith said, turning and heading off. He followed, quickly summoning his secret box, containing artifacts from their shared past.
She stopped when she noticed him stop, set it on the ground, and return it to it's actual size.
"I have several gifts for you as well, dear sister. Things I've kept for a very long time." Jon expressed as he retrieved her wand and offered it to her, earning visible surprise from her as she took it in her hands, and ran her eyes along it. She hadn't used this wand in ages, not since she had abandoned her birth name and became Lilith. This wand was left behind then, a relic of her past.
Dark wood, with a dragon heartstring. Eleven and a half inches. She recalled clear as day. A smile touched at her lips, and her eyes slowly drifted back to him to find Jon rising to his feet, in both his hands, he held relics from her first life.
In one, her blackened steel sword, Ira. A hand-and-a-half sword, of light consuming black steel, with smoldering red runes etched along the hilt, handle, and spine of the blade. The handle itself, wrapped in dark leather, its cross-guard was a smoky silver, along with the pommel, and set in the pommel was a red ruby.
In his opposite hand, he held her staff. The tool of destruction she had wielded during her time as Lilith. Nearly as tall as she was, made of charcoal black wood. Along it's surface were countless runes, each dancing with color, dark blues, and blood reds, to burning oranges, and even white. All dim, and faded, yet ceaseless in their glow. At it's end, a focus, held in place by the wood, like a grasping hand. A white-gold gem that refracted light, into a blackened pit in the center. The jewel itself was round, with forty flat sides encircling it. Encased within the white jewel was a pure black orb that sat at it's center, perfectly spherical and devoid of any color.
Both of these weapons had been her tools of war. Weapons she had wielded so long ago. Her old friend, the Headmaster, would not have forgotten the sword she had once used to cut down his precious Order of the Phoenix, nor would he have forgotten the staff that had taken off his hand, during their last duel.
Pocketing her wand, she took both weapons, feeling their power rush into her, and through her body. Her magic screamed for vengeance as she felt the stains of countless deaths, forever marring both of these instruments of terror.
"You did well keeping these. I had looked for them, when I had ventured home, but I could not find them." Lilith noted, eyeing both artifacts with reverence.
Jon offered her a nod, but than looked confused.
"You went home? Back to our birth place, you mean?" Jon questioned.
"Yes. Come and see what I found, baby brother." Lilith offered him a devilish smirk, as she shrunk her sword, pocketing it, and walked with her staff.
Jon followed her, curious to see what she had retrieved from their dead home world, while also wondering if perhaps her actually going there was what triggered her memories coming back. Maybe it was that, that was the true cause of her return, and not his diary? Maybe that was just the catalyst that had triggered her desire to return?
As if sensing his thoughts, she began to speak as she led him through the citadel, past legions of orcs, uruks, undead, spirits, and all other manner of monsters.
"Your diary and the memories it contained triggered some of my own. I felt things begin to come back to me. Hints of a life I couldn't fully remember. Finally I decided I would go to our place of birth, to see if that could trigger anything. Low and behold, it did. I remembered everything. My past, our war, our love. All of it. Even my birth name, and the true name of our foe, our dearest headmaster." Lilith explained as they made their way deeper and deeper into the underbelly of the fortress.
"While you were there you searched for some of your old tools." Jon noted, recalling how she had said she'd looked for her weapons while there.
"Aye. I did. I also recovered some of my old servants, restoring them to life." She hummed in a musical tone, causing Jon to stop dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide. Lilith didn't stop her advance, despite sensing his sudden hesitation. Her smirk grew deadly as she felt him begin to walk again. "Oh yes baby brother. Your old friend is here too. And I've made sure to improve upon him, with his resurrection."
Jon blanched as he slowly followed after her. Fear building in his gut. He was certain he knew what she was referring to, and it was not something enjoyable.
After a while, the two found themselves entering a massive underground chamber. This chamber was filled with lava, and massive tunnels extended out of it from all sides. Slumbering within the chamber, Jon counted five massive beasts. Giant dragons, each as large as Balerion the Black Dread. These beasts were shaped like Valyrian dragons, though they sported large forelimbs with human like arms and hands acting as their front legs. These dragons were still young, only a few centuries old, yet already they had grown massive and powerful at the hands of their dark master. They were not as large as some of her earlier creations, which was an interesting difference. No instead of the same growth rate, Lilith seemed to have adjusted that by making them stronger. Increasing the strength of their fire, their intelligence, their control over magic, their scales were far stronger, and they no longer possessed the weak spot of their ancestors. No, while these great dragons were smaller than their predecessors, they would no doubt become far worse than any that had come before, save for the mighty Ancalagon.
Lilith led him through the chamber of fire, the dragons barely stirring at their presence, and those that took note of them, kept low and away from their dark master.
At the back of the chamber, a great slumbering beast stood out. Far older than his brethren and born in an era, long since forgotten. Midir, the Darkeater. Lilith's mount from her first reign. The first of the Great Dragons, and the one whom Jon had used stories of, to inspire Morgoth to recreate beasts in it's image.
The dragon was nearly twice the size of the others, it's skin was black and covered with dark purple scales. It had the body-shape of a wolf, with a tail just over half the length of it's total size. It had two sets of wings, one larger, and one smaller. Both sets were tattered and heavily worn, indicating the creature was ancient and had seen countless battles. From it's flesh emerged darkened purple crystals that gleamed with starlight from within. From it's body, smoke drifted out, and within the smoke, twinkling crystal flakes, sparkling with radiance. From it's head, two large horns, similar to a steer, emerged. (1*)
All in all, the beast was absolutely massive. Easily the largest creature in her arsenal at the moment, and it truly was a monster to behold. Jon came to a pause when he saw it, internally cursing at the sight of the great beast. This very same dragon, he had fought so long ago, and had, had a hand in killing would most definitely remember him.
And it did. The beast roused from slumber and rose, it's fiery orange eyes finding their way to it's dark master, and then to Jon. The moment it locked it's gaze onto him, a deep, draconic bellow erupted from it's mouth.
"Good to see that your memory is as fine as ever, my old friend." Lilith noted with a chuckle, turning a rueful gaze towards Jon.
"Of all the beasts you had to go and raise from the dead, it had to be this one." Jon groaned, as the dragon rose to it's feet, letting out a menacing growl as it did.
"Well, I figured if you were not as loyal as you claimed, than he would be the perfect tool for putting you in your place. Luckily for you, it seems such things will not be necessary." Lilith hummed with amusement.
"Luckily." Jon quietly muttered, causing Lilith's smirk to grow.
Midir released another growl, ready to attack Jon the moment Lilith gave the command.
"Settle yourself, my old friend. My dearest baby brother has learned from his mistakes." Lilith cooed as she reached up, running her hand along the dragon's lower jaw. Even with her arm fully outstretched, the beast had to lower it's head for her to reach it, which it did without hesitation, though it's eyes were firmly locked onto Jon, and he could clearly see the hatred within the dragon's gaze.
Despite his misgiving in regards to his long time foe, Jon knew that the dragon would be a useful ally. Midir had been the example for which all of the Great Dragon's were forged. It was from his stories of this mighty beasts, that creatures such as Glaurung and Ancalagon came into being.
"You and my dearest baby brother, will take command of a great host and lead it south. Your mission is to take the Wall, and capture all nineteen castles along it's southern edge. Between you and your goal, is an army of Wildlings, under the leadership of Mance Rayder, and a thousand members of the Night's Watch. Destroy both hosts, break their spirits and seize the Wall. Secure our hold on the Far North." Lilith issued her command to both Jon and Midir.
The Dragon let out a growl, while Jon bowed his head in submission to her command. He had made his bed long ago, now he would lay in it, without complaint. If Lilith commanded he work with ancient foes, he would do so with a smile.
The War for Westoros would begin now.
-To Be Continued-
(1*) Darkeater Midir from Dark souls 3
Alright, there you go, hope everyone is enjoying themselves and hope everyone is having a good time.