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The scenery had remained the same for hours. A landscape full of snow and trees. Sometimes the trees would disappear for a few miles but they always returned. The only sounds were of me and my men breathing with the occasional direwolf howl. None of us minded the break in excitement as when we finally reached the Night King there would be death. Our only hope was that I remained alive to kill the foul creature.
The men around me could die and I would be powerless to affect the outcome. The one thing I had to focus on was the Night King. No space could remain in my mind for others. If I failed in my task then Westeros would fall. A shiver went down my spine that wasn't due to the cold, though the winter air had become even worse the more we followed the Night King's trail. It was because of the cold that we knew the dead were close by.
"I hate this part." Arya Stark said.
"No one likes the waiting." Bronn agreed. "I've seen men do stupid ******* things because of it."
Jon gave a signal and the two were quiet again. We didn't know if the dead lurked a mile away or only a few feet. They could be anywhere and attack at a moment's notice. It wasn't likely that talking would be the thing that alerted our enemies, but it wasn't a chance any of us wanted to take. The fear had pierced us as much as the cold did.
Jon rode beside me and I turned to look at him. He was a distraction but I couldn't help myself. He was young and would have many years even after I passed away. In his hand was Heartsbane as the fear had gotten to him. His eyes told no one about the thoughts in his mind. Instead they looked certain about victory. They were the eyes of a proud king.
Jon's hair blew in the wind and I looked at every curl. How great it would be if I could make love to him right now. His posture was like it had been beyond the Wall. That was how I had fallen in love with him in the first place. He was a leader more than worthy of the name Stark or the title of King.
"They're close." Jon said and pointed to Ghost.
The direwolf's lips were curled and a continuous growl left his mouth. His body was tensed as if an attack would happen at any moment. Signals were sent through the ranks that the final battle was at hand. For better or worse the fate of mankind would be decided this day. The bards would turn this day into one of glory but it didn't feel noble. The skies were full of clouds and even Drogon seemed diminished by them.
I took out Longclaw and imagined my father's face. When I had fled into exile I had left it for my father to give a more worthy man. In Jon he had found a better son. Today I would prove to my father's memory I had redeemed myself. At least as much as any man ever co-
Ghost pounced at a wight and chaos erupted. Jon and I yelled out for our men to form a large circle. The plan was to move outward once enough dead appeared. An arrow came towards my head and I leaned forward. The horse behind me cried out before it fell down which caused the rider to cry out in pain. No one moved and everyone waited for the dead to come crashing into us. We didn't have to wait long.
Longclaw soon tasted undead flesh as I yelled out. I had resisted riding Drogon earlier and now that's all I wanted to do. To climb on his back and escape this chaos would feel better than embracing Khaleesi at the moment. Yet Ghost had given too short of a warning to prepare us to go onto my mount. When I sliced off the head of a wight, the yell from my throat was for my stupidity. If I had only ridden Drogon all day then this wouldn't have happened. Yet I had felt a need to ride with my husband. I could've cost Westeros its life!
Arya yelled out and I rode towards her. A group of five wights came running at me and I jumped over them. They yelled and screamed as I got away. Just as Arya came into view a wight ran at me. It was a stag instead of a human. I could try to outrun it but then my back would be left open to it. If I were to fall onto the ground I would be even more helpless than I was now.
The Stark girl was holding her own and maybe another soldier would get to her aide before me. The stag wight lowered its head and ran at me. Just as it was inches away I turned to the side. My horse crashed into a wight and I cut off its head to make sure it stayed dead. In that brief time the stag had changed its direction to follow me. My steel met its horns and we moved in an intricate dance. All the while I had to remain aware of my surroundings. To make sure I wasn't about to be ambushed.
Finally the dance was complete as Longclaw pierced the stag's head. I pulled my sword out just in time to barely avoid another arrow.
"Where is he?" I growled.
Arya was no longer in need of my help now. The fight with the stag had taken too long to aid her. Either she was dead or she was alive. My part to play was over and now all my mind could focus on was the Night King. If only I had powers like Bran and could sense when the abomination was near.
Time went on and Longclaw killed many a wight but the Night King was nowhere to be found. Men battled alongside me, some had lost their horses, in my journey to save life itself. In the midst of the sounds of swords tearing into undead flesh, a roar could be heard. I urged my horse forward past the fires Drogon had caused to the sound as I knew what the creature must be. Its roar was joined by others as the Night King had decided to send in powerful animal wights.
Bronn stood out of reach of my help. He was one of the first to encounter the wave of undead bears. The bears were running with their mouths open as the stag tilted their heads down. A few men were able to dodge and slash at the attackers, but Bronn wasn't. It must have been his pride as what I saw of his face was twisted into a manic smile. He got in three swings before the bear reacted.
The bear roared out in frustration and tore its claws towards Bronn's head. For a moment his entire head was enveloped in the creature's paw. Before I could concentrate on the man's death, I had to focus on my own survival as a bear showed interest in me.
Even though the creature was undead, this felt like home. It felt like a time before I had found a woman who had decided to abandon me after all I had risked for her. It was a time of simplicity when I was a child and learning to fight.
I had fought a bear wight while beyond the Wall and I had fought live ones while growing up. The creature ran at me and I turned just in time. As I turned, Longclaw sliced into it. And so our fight continued for many minutes. Each of us barely able to cause the other harm. The Night King would have to wait un-Ghost jumped at the bear. His fangs dug into undead flesh and the creature finally fell.
For a few minutes Ghost fought beside me. Whenever a wight appeared from nowhere, Jon's direwolf was there to kill it. With each kill a vicious howl was released that would've made the blood freeze in a normal man. Due to chance we went by Bronn's corpse. His head hardly looked human and his innards were in the snow beside him.
"Can you find the Night King, Ghost?" I growled and he started to run.
I followed him as my mind again focused on the only goal that mattered. Bronn had been a good man and Tyrion's friend. At least he had died with a sword in his hand like all warriors should. But now wasn't the time to mourn him, now was the time to kill the true enemy. I urged my horse forward.
Every second was more time for my men to die. It was more time for the Night King to grow his army. I had to kill some of my men who had risen. Vomit threatened to come out of my mouth as I recalled some of those I killed. I remembered the jokes they had told and the stories about their wives I had overheard. Yet I had to kill them.
I heard a very familiar grunt and saw Davos fighting a White Walker. He had come along not as a fighter, but to help us manage the war. If there had been some way to keep him away from the fighting, it would have been done. But fighting the dead meant no one was safe. Even Lyanna and Sansa weren't safe.
Just as my horse started to make its way over to the former pirate, a stray arrow hit it in the head. It let out a loud cry as it fell down. I managed, barely, to not be crushed by it. To ease its pain, I cut its throat until it breathed no more. I also cut off one leg so it wouldn't pose a large problem. By the time I could make it to Davos, he was dead. The White Walker had shoved his sword through the man's stomach. Ghost let out a howl as the corpse hit the ground.
"If only he came to me." I muttered and Ghost tilted his head.
That must be where the Night King was. I nodded at him and then made my way to the White Walker. There was time enough to kill him and make it so not as many enemies existed for my men. There was time enough to get vengeance for Jon's friend. As I made my way to him I was nearly overcome by fear. This abomination felt more deadly than a wight. He had intelligence behind his eyes and I knew he wanted only to kill. If he did have any other desires, it would have to remain a mystery.
Our swords clashed as both of us were filled with rage. The only noises were my grunts as the White Walker stayed silent. The only thing he cared about was my death. Wights passed us by but never attacked either of us. These creatures must have a form of pride, or honor, as that would be the only reason not to come in for the kill.
"Ah!" I yelled out as my face twisted to the point not even my own father would recognize me.
That yell was the last thing the White Walker was aware of before I killed him. He shattered into a million pieces as I took a moment to catch my breath. A short lived cheer broke out which must mean some of the dead had died yet again. Before I could celebrate a figure came into view.
This figure made me want to give up this fight. It made me think that the War for the Dawn was nothing but a vain attempt to change fate. I must have been granted powers because the gods needed their amusement. What better way for a god to amuse himself than to give a mortal the fallacy of hope? Yet even as doubt entered my mind, I did not let it affect my actions. If I were to die I'd die. But I wouldn't bend to the Night King even if this war was hopeless.
Time seemed to slow down as we rushed at each other. My ears picked up the faint sound of Drogon's roar. He sounded angry about not being able to get to my side. Hopefully he would take out his frustrations on the dead.
The moment I locked blades with the Night King was when time sped up. He was a savage opponent and gave me no opportunity to calm my mind. If I couldn't calm and focus my mind I couldn't use my power. My mouth let out a savage yell.
The Night King used more force than finesse. With each movement he appeared like a blur. All of my training made it so I was barely able to stand my ground. I relied on predicting where his next attack would come from and what it would be. All it would take was one stab of Longclaw to end this war. Just one slash and the world would be returned to normal.
We circled each other and looked for a weakness. Any weakness. Once we were done sizing each other up, we attacked. Before I had had luck with deflecting the blows of the Night King. Now, though, I kept falling back no matter how fiercely I attacked. On the creature's face I could see what must be a smile.
"No!" I yelled out as I fell down.
On the ground I could feel every wound. I had lost more blood than I had thought. I was weaker than I had imagined. There was nothing I could do in such a state. The abomination stood over me and I wondered why he didn't just kill me. It's what I would've done.
"Jon!" I yelled out. "Jon Stark!"
If I wasn't able to kill the Night King and end the war, it would be Jon that could. The creature looked away from me and started to walk away. He had been able to push away one of my attacks using my power before. This was too near the end to risk failure. With eyes that wanted to do nothing but close forever, I waited for Jon.
Jon came into view and I poured my power into him. My thought became action with no way to explain how. All the strength I had inside was now his. Flames leapt from every inch of his body and Heartsbane became a flame. I grimaced as there was nothing else I could do.
I had been fierce in my fight against the Night King, but my husband put me to shame. The flames tore at the creature's body as did his blade. Unfortunately the creature also cut into Jon's flesh. Blood and undead flesh fell down like snow. Neither was willing to give up and die. Both had stakes in this war and there could only be one victor.
Jon feinted to the right and managed to slash the Night King's torso. Before Heartsbane could complete the move, the creature had dissolved into nothing. It was a quick death but much more terrifying than anything I had seen up to that point.
The Night King's body wavered as if he was fading in and out of existence. Then his body was solid and human. Bran had told us the story of our enemy but it had been so easy to ignore when we couldn't see him as human. Now I could see happiness in his eyes as he would finally be free. He would live in a paradise after he died. He could be who he had been before the horrors. The pureness of his emotions frightened me.
"Thank you." He whispered and then he turned to ash.
Jon wobbled for a moment and then fell down, his flames now gone. Cuts and bruises littered his body. He had fought hard and well. If not for him Westeros would be dead. As I slowly crawled over to him I could hear the sound of the dead breaking into nothing. But the only sound that mattered to me now was the sound of Jon's breath.
I managed to sit up slightly and cradle him in my arms. We looked at each other as tears poured out of our eyes.
"I love you, Jorah." Jon said with a sad smile.
"I love you too, Jon." I cried. "Please don't leave me. Don't go. Jon, I can't live in this world without you."
"I don't want to leave you. I want to be by your side. But at least we won. At least Westeros is..."
"Jon! Please! Don't go! Don't leave me! I need you! Don't!"
My love's lips barely moved and I couldn't hear what he had to say. I couldn't hear...and then he stopped moving. I felt horrible as I should have said something uplifting. I should have made his last moments in this world good. I cried out so that my voice broke and my vision blurred. He had died. Jon was gone!
Westeros would recover and flourish in the war's aftermath. I would sit on the Iron Throne and rule the Seven Kingdoms. Spring would come and people would recover. The cities that were destroyed would be rebuilt. Years from now laughter would come freely from the mouths of the Westerosi people. The Dothraki would either stay and adapt or go back to Essos. Hundreds of years from now the Night King would be a mere myth to scare children and my history would be changed to better suit songs.
But all that didn't matter. What mattered was that Jon was dead. The only things that were real were my tears and cries of pain that racked my injured body. When blackness overcame me I didn't mind. I hoped I died and woke up in Daenerys' arms.
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