Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones.

Well here we are, the end. I thank everyone that has read this story and for all the support I have received from so many people, especially my regular reviewers. It has made this story the most enjoyable I have ever done, to me at least.

I will have the Harry Tyrell story up by the end of February I hope. I will be posting the first two chapters together and between changes in the plot, real life and writer's block it has fallen behind a bit. If anyone has any suggestions for where in the world Harry would go in that world please let me know, you will have ideas I haven't thought of.

I won't bore you any longer, on with the story…

Chapter 40 – War for the Dawn Part 4

White Knife, the North…

On the banks of the river White Knife, the army of the dead clashed with the army of the living. Explosions of green fire lit up the field along with blasts of normal coloured flames that consumed entire columns of wights in seconds while in other places men wielded flaming torches instead of swords to set the wights that had broken through their lines ablaze. Carts with flame throwers on the back ran along the front line throwing bombs and firing flamethrowers at clusters of wights where they could, some men were getting caught in the crossfire but where they could take a chance the carts attacked.

On the battlefield with their men were most of the newly created Brotherhood for the Dawn, their special weapons in hand cutting down wights left and right while above, four dragons fought against an enormous ice dragon.

Jon on the back of Sunfyre worked with Daenerys and Daeron to do a joint strafing run on the ice dragon which howled in agony as more of its beautiful blue ice scales were burnt but the onslaught was unending as Shaena and her two dragons then did their own strafing run. It was almost a shame Jon thought sadly to have to kill such a beautiful creature but with its master's intent on using it to kill everything living so they had little choice. Maybe it was because he was a Targaryen by his father but had he always had a soft spot for any kind of dragon? He knew that his half-sister Rhaenys and aunt Daenerys felt the same. Still he sobered up, it had to be done.

While the Targaryens dealt with the Ice Dragon above them, on the ground Robb Stark found himself fighting alongside Ser Jorah Mormont and Lord Hadrian Lannister. Ice would have been hard to lift without the gauntlets he had been given when they had formed their brotherhood, he should not he thought be wielding his family's sword at all but for the fact his father was getting too old to do so. Still he felt proud at wielding the great sword and severing the head of the a few wights with a mighty swing. The two master swordsmen at his side were enough to humble him though as they moved with a far greater grace and skill than his younger years could match, their skill sharpened by many years' experience. He could see the Hound not far away with his sword Nightfall fighting alongside Dacey Mormont, their bright golden sun badges gleaming for all to see inspiring the men around them even him though he had such a golden sun badge on his own chest. It made his proud to fight alongside such great warriors.

Above them on the back of Elinor who at Rhaenys' direction was blasting wights with fire, Kinvara was unleashing her own fiendfyre blasts at the wights below. The effect was devastating as entire columns of wights were burnt away and cut down the numbers of their enemy and the walkers that were leading the party were left with no option than to charge into battle themselves. Five White walkers charged forward and attacked the human soldiers that were on the furthest edge of the battle. The men had no chance as the ice weapons of the walkers shattered the steel they were carrying and then were plunged through whatever armour they had into their flesh. The walkers turned to look for more when a dragonglass arrow fired by Ygritte struck one of them, reducing it quickly to ice crystals.

Seeing the walkers now advancing on Ygritte, Hadrian and Raga rushed forward with his sword swinging through wights with magical fire covering the steel though men after the battle would put it down to their imaginations. Reaching into his pouch he pulled out one of the bombs that he had modified to throw shards of dragonglass when they exploded and with the aid of a banishing charm sent it right into the centre of the approaching four walkers. Having seen the explosives during the battle and knowing that it would normally pose no threat the walkers did not try to evade the hit, intent on ending the life of the archer that had killed one of their own. They did not realise their mistake until it exploded and threw dozens of small, yet lethal dragonglass shards into the air.

The walkers were impaled several times each by tiny shards but the effect was just as a deadly as if they had been Valyrian steel. Immediately their thin and grey bodies started turning into fine ice crystals splitting from each other like breaking icebergs from a glacier. Powerless they fell to their knees as if praying before breaking apart completely.

The wights instantly began to fall, their strings cut with the death of their masters. The humans cheering as they achieved another victory, even if the price was yet again a high one as the number of dead around them was testament too. Burning of the bodies would have to begin immediately, an unpleasant job to be sure but like a gift from the gods to boost their morale the ice dragon plummeted to the ground as the Targaryen dragons managed to bring the great beast down.

Long Lake, the North…

The Night King felt the death of his brothers as the five perished and with them the army he had bequeathed to them. The situation was not going as he and his queen had foreseen he mused, the humans should not have been able to slay five of his brothers and an ice dragon so quickly and the number of dead should have been far higher if they had. It was an ill omen for his campaign, leaving him with just two options.

One, return to the Lands of Always Winter and wait, once the humans had allowed him and his kind to fade again into folklore and superstition before returning to finish his conquest when they were less prepared. This was something he really did not want to do as it would take thousands more years and there was also the possibility that the humans could build another wall which might not be so simple to breach. This was what happened the last time he had fought the humans and he did not wish for history to repeat itself and this time they might leave no humans to prey on as they had before to replenish his forces.

The second option however was more dangerous, he could mass his remaining army, brothers and ice dragons in one place making them too powerful to take but too important a target for the humans to ignore forcing a confrontation. Thousands would come where he could use his dragons and army at full strength and overwhelm them. It could turn the entire situation around and replenish his army, even allow him to kill the fire breathing dragons and bring them back as his own weapons. But the danger was that his entire force would be in one place including him. If the humans emerged victorious then his people would be wiped from the face of this world, never to bring the blessed cold ever again.

The decision was a hard one, the Night King knew this would be the biggest gamble in history. Looking at his queen however as she smirked at him and his mouth formed into a sinister grin, he made up his mind. Reaching out with his mind he called the last of his brothers to him, the ice dragons too. He would not wait another eight thousand years to triumph over the living he decided, it was going to be here and now.

Camp of the Brotherhood, the North…

The Brotherhood as it was now known gathered around the table with a map of the North as they pondered the situation. A pile of messages lay in the corner with the strange news on each of them.

"All of the scouts in the North bare the same information, the Walkers and their army are pulling back to Long Lake." Jon said to his fellow warriors as he gestured on the map to the place in question which was puzzling all of them. All of the wights and walkers had abandoned the sieging of castles and walled towns, stopped ambushing the supply convoys and fighting their men retreating to the large body of water known as Long Lake. While the Brotherhood talked of the situation, Kinvara was using some spell on a piece of canvas. With more important matters at hand the others ignored her.

"Why? They will not expand their army there. No castles close enough that have not already been taken and no real strategy advantage. Why do it?" Robar Royce asked as he looked down at the map while Hadrian sighed with anger as the answer occurred to him.

"Consolidation." He said simply, Lord Tarly and Robb Stark both nod in agreement having realised the same conclusion as him.

"If they combine all their remaining forces there then they are either hoping to make a force to large for us to dare attack or they hope to fight us with all of their strength in hopes of slaughtering our army so they can break through to the south." Lord Tarly said grimly while Robb did see the positive in the situation.

"That also means we can destroy them." Robb said boldly causing all to look his way. "If this is all they have left then we can destroy the army of the dead and end the threat of the Walkers forever. It is an opportunity we cannot ignore." Robb pressed but Jon had another take on the situation.

"And that is what they could be counting on." Jon said with anger. "None of our scouts can confirm their numbers without being added to the army of the dead and we still do not know if he has more Ice Dragons."

"I agree this has all the makings of a trap." Rhaenys said her opinion her eyes blazing with fury much like Jon's but Daenerys looked more uncertain.

"Can we ignore it though?" She asked.

"No." A voice sounded in the back and they looked over to see Ser Jorah step forward. "I know we have paid a heavy price to retake every piece of the North but all that is for nothing if we do not fight now when? A year from now when more of us have fallen to the cold or now while we are strong?" Jorah asked them looking ready to ride out alone if he had to but Hadrian stepped forward and spoke.

"I agree." People now looked to him expecting an explanation. "This is the best chance we will ever get to end their threat once and for all. It will have a high cost, every battle against them has but if we ever want to see summer again we have no choice. We have to kill the Night King and now we know where he is."

Jon nodded having thought the same himself and with a single motion declared his plan stabbing a dagger straight into the image of Long Lake.


In the corner Kinvara smiled, finishing her work hoping that it would be a monument to later generations of who they were. A painting made of magic and oil pain of each member of the Brotherhood lay before her, a record that she knew would last to tell people their story should it ever be needed again she thought darkly before getting up and preparing herself for the march.

The army was nearly ready for the long and hard march to Long Lake where the fate of the entire world might well be decided. The men were grim and thinking seriously of their homes and families, whether or not they would see them again. What might happen to them if the enemy won the battle, the image of a world covered in ice and snow where only the dead walked preyed on all of their minds as well as how they might stop it?

A group of younger soldiers sat around a campfire as they waited for the march, sharing a rabbit between them. They sang a song together 'Hands of Gold' a song that had become popular in the last few years as wars gripped the land. They thought of deserting and going home; one to his wife and their first baby who he did not know if it was a boy or girl, another wanted to join his father on their small fishing boat and the others were just worried for their families.

But they did not go, however much they wanted too they knew they had to stay and fight. What they were defending was too precious, too important to leave to others. Every man in the camp having seen the danger for themselves first hand and knew what was at stake, even if they ran how far would they get before they were faced with the ice demons that would follow them, not content until everything that lived had perished and become a slave to their whims.

One last adventure they all thought, only once it had happened would they know if there was going to be anymore.


The king himself was no different than his men as he looked towards the likeness of Margaery that he kept in his tent. He knew their child would be nearly ready to be born if they had not by now. He had only thought more and more of fatherhood over the last few months, what his child might be? He could well imagine a boy or a girl, which ever it was did not matter to him but it would be a life that he had made, he and Margaery together that would one day gods willing sit on the Iron Throne. And it terrified him, the thought of having something so fragile in his arm, how did you raise a child? What was the norm? How did you make them happy? What did you do when they cried? These things were all a mystery to him, but what scared him more was the image of his wife and child lying dead in the snow as the cold froze Kings Landing to death. He might well die himself in the battle even if they did succeed and so he found himself at his desk, writing a letter for his wife.

My dearest Margaery,

While I greatly hope that we will triumph in the coming battle that should decide the outcome of this terrible war, I know not if we will. Despite having the best men I could ever dream of at my side I fear the result should our enemy prevail. If it comes to past that I never see you again, I feel there are things that I must say.

My wife, my beautiful smart and strong Margaery you are a light for me in a harsh world. When my thoughts turn dark you stand as a beacon for me to find my hope again. You have guided my hand in the arena of politics and have won the love of the people in ways I could never have dreamt of. You will be a fine mother to our child, whether a boy or girl I know they will rule well with you to guide them. I only hope that I am there to see our child grow into the great monarch they have the potential to become. Ghost I am sure will guard you and our child like a sentinel, my wolf knows you are my family and will protect you with his life.

I must say these words my love less they be never spoken in person, my queen that I love you more than life itself and I will fight to my last breath to ensure you and our child will know summer again.

With all my heart, Jon.

Tears glistened in his eyes as he finished the letter and closed it with his seal. A raven would be sent as soon as he was able to get a hold of himself. It would not do he thought for the men to see their king with tears in his eyes, they continued to fall for quite some time as he genuinely feared for his wife and child and what might become of them if this battle was lost.


His good brother Loras in the nearby tent was contemplating his wife too and their child. He knew that by now the babe would have been born but likewise had no idea whether it was a boy or a girl. He hoped for a boy, one that could inherit his seat and one that he might teach to wield a sword when he was old enough. He knew girls could rule too having seen it with his grandmother and his sister, but he could not help but hope for a boy.

One that he might never see he thought as his mood darkened. The next battle would be the biggest of the entire war and despite the advantages they held he could not help but worry what should happen to his wife, child and family if they failed.


Lord Randyll Tarly was far more stoic than Loras Tyrell, a lifelong soldier he had faced death too many times for it to bother him now and was practical enough to know not to obsess over what might happen and focus on what had to be done in the here and now.

He could be confident of his training of his son Dickon to succeed him as Lord of Horn Hill, his daughters were now safely married off and much to his surprise his eldest son Samwell now sat as Archmaester on the King's Small Council. Now a married man himself and the king only had good words for his eldest the boy he had thought would never be useful to anyone. It had been strange when he had seen the boy when surrendering his position as Master of Laws to come here. Samwell had met his gaze and held it. Something the boy would never have done before and then dismissed him without a second thought as he walked from the room. It had surprised him at the time but he was glad that the boy had finally found some backbone.

He did not regret his decision to send the boy away, he would never have made a good lord of Horn Hill. He could be glad that he had been of some use to the world but why regret when he had done the right thing? It might not have had the outcome he had imagined but he could be glad that the boy would not taint his legacy with cowardice.


Rhaenys Targaryen was sitting with her dragon, Elinor and gently rubbing the dragon's ears as it lay next to her drawing on each other's heat for comfort as the last battle approached. The dragon was not really scared but knew its rider was, it could feel it through their bond.

Rhaenys gently put her hand on her stomach as she cradled the tiny life inside her, she had not been feeling well since her arrival in the North but had put it down to a cold or being unused to the freezing weather only for the slight 'bump' at her stomach to make her realise just what it was. Her cheeks were stained with tears as she thought about the precious life inside her and what she was about to ride into. A battle against humanity's greatest enemy, they had no idea of how large the enemy's forces were only that this was all that was left. But how much was that she wondered and could they defeat it? Would her baby have a chance to be born? Part of her just wanted to jump on Elinor's back and fly away but in her heart she knew she couldn't. This battle was too important, for everything that lived to simply leave. She had to stay and fight her hardest, so that her child might live.


Jorah polished his sword clean of any dirt from the last bout as he prepared for the battle, unlike the others he was not fearful something that gave weight to his feeling that Kinvara had brought him back different or at least he had come back different. And after all when you had died once what was there left to fear?

His cousin Dacey on the other hand was terrified for her small son, what might become of him if they failed. Kinvara stood watching them as they prepared for battle and sensed Dacey's feelings knowing that if she went into battle like this she would surely die and they would be one step closer to defeat. Also she felt in her bones that Jorah must go to Last Hearth too but for a very different reason so she made her decision.

"Ser Jorah, Lady Mormont. A word please." She said with a smile, both Jorah and Dacey came over looking confused and she grabbed their hands and held them tightly as she called on her magic. Before the two could question just what she was doing they felt a feeling of being squeezed and then the world around them changed. Men looked at them startled and a few actually had swords in hand thinking it was an attack until they realised it was the wife of the SmallJon and the son of the Old Bear.

Seeing the sights of the castle made both Mormonts suspicious but Kinvara did not let them say a word before she told them why they were here.

"Your son is missing his mother, go to him and comfort the babe. Remember why you must fight and harden your resolve." Kinvara said to Dacey whose eyes widened before she rushed off to see her child before Kinvara then turned to Jorah and said with a grim tone. "Your father is dying, this shall be his final hour. Go to him." Jorah himself did not even hesitate before he rushed off to find his father.


Dacey was the first to find what she was looking for, the sound of her son crying was like a spear straight to her heart and drove her forward like a woman possessed until she burst into the room that she shared with her husband. A nurse was holding Dacey's young son who was sobbing dreadfully while both the nurse and SmallJon tried their best to stop his tears but nothing they did eased the child's pain. Unable to stand it Dacey stormed forward and pulled her son from the nurse's arms.

The moment her son looked up at her and recognised her face, he stopped crying immediately and let out a happy gurgle at the sight of his mother. Dacey herself smiled as tears fell from her eyes ignoring the shocked questions from her husband or the nurse. She held her son close to her chest and kissed his brow gently, marvelling at how big he had gotten since she had last seen him. His chubby fingers tugged on her hair which was far longer since she had not bothered to get it cut but she did not care a bit now that her son was in her arms. A calm came over her as she held her child, her instinct to protect him making her heart beat fiercely in her chest removing all fear and doubt from her mind. She would fight a hundred walkers if she had too she thought to herself with anger, to make sure that he child was safe and happy.


Jorah meanwhile was faced with a far more gut wrenching sight than he had ever been faced with before. His father, Jeor Mormont, the seemingly invincible Old Bear lying in his deathbed with a fever and shivering near violently.

"Father." Jorah said trying to get his attention but the fever was so bad that his father did not seem to hear it so Jorah grasped his hand tightly which definitely produced a reaction as his father gripped back even tighter causing even Jorah to wince before Jeor spoke with an unsteady rasp.

"THE…GODS SEEM TO PUNISH ME…FOR MY FAILURE TO PROTECT THE WALL. I ONLY HOPE YOU MIGHT LEARN FROM MY MISTAKES!" Jeor said his will still strong but Jorah's was just as strong and said back.

"You held the wall against the Wildlings and led the Night's Watch in the defence of Castle Black when the Walkers came. The Wall had succumbed to age, not you." Jeor looked at him for a moment before telling him his eyes just as sharp as they had been in his youth.

"And now…you stand against them slaying more of them and ensuing the living survive this night. I...am proud of you…my son." Jeor said before coughing harshly. "It might have taken you time…to find yourself again after that whore led you astray but…I am proud of you…Jorah." Jeor said and Jorah honestly felt his heart turn into a lead weight as the words hit him. It seemed that his father used the last of his strength to say those words and the harsh cough erupted again with blood pouring from his mouth. Jorah held his father's hand tightly as if willing him not to die when there was so much left to be said but nothing could save his father from this illness. His coughed several more times just as hard as the last before the life finally left his eyes and his body fell still. Jorah did not release his hold though, unable to process that his father was really gone.

A million thoughts and images rushed through his head, the times he had spent with his father as a lad, fighting alongside him as a man, disappointing him and then returning to fight at his side. So many memories that it was enough to bog his mind down in the recollection of it all. He did not know what to feel, sadness was there, anger that a disease felled him slowly rather than a quick death on the battlefield as he would have truly wanted but the worst was the loss the chance to properly rebuild their relationship now slipped through his fingers like water.

The fact that his father had said that he was proud of him brought a great amount of relief to Jorah though a small sense of satisfaction that maybe his father had forgiven him for the shame that he had brought upon their family, that in the end they had been a father and son again.

He just wished it had not come like this he thought with sadness as he looked down at the body of his father.


Obara Sand was exercising the tension from herself in her usual way, practicing with her spear. This was somewhat necessary as she was still unsure of her new weapon. The dragonbone was certainly flexible and just as strong as any wood she had ever seen, the Valyrian steel tip was lighter and it was enough to throw off her jabs and thrusts. Something she was trying her best to counter with as much practice as she could get in before the battle. While hot tempered she preferred to avoid taunting and playing with her opponents as her legendary father Prince Oberyn did ending the fight quickly before moving on to the next.

Her thoughts however wandered to her family and what they must think of her now, the first women who had been chosen for the Kingsguard of the Targaryens. Her spear alongside the greatest swords in the kingdoms and now she stood as part of the army that would defend all life in the Known world. She fought against ice demons alongside her king and Ser Arthur Dayne himself amongst other names that would surely past into legend. It was rather humbling she thought to herself and worried her a little whether she would be up to the job but she buried her nervousness with fierce pride.

She was Obara Sand, eldest daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell, the leader of the Sand Snakes and her father's equal with the spear. No she thought with a smirk that looked like it had been taken straight from the face of Oberyn himself, she was better.


Hadrian and Shaena stood checking their equipment and weapons in their tent, preparing for what could well be the most important battle of their lives. Death did not scare either of them, they had both lived long lives in the last world and busy ones in this world. They had long gotten used to the idea and if they were to die then it would be worth it to save this world. On the desk letters addressed to each of Hadrian's children sat ready to be dispatched just in case the worst happened. Neither of the married couple spoke, they did not need to. Everything that needed to be said had already been spoken.

Now was the time for action, both of them knew that. They had not been able to save their last world they would not fail this one. They would use every single trick in the book to win this battle, especially magic.

All over Westeros people waited with baited breath as news that the final battle was fast approaching spread. The world waited to know whether or not it might see another summer or whether night would consume all the world forever. Many took to praying in godswoods or even septs; mothers, fathers, daughters, brothers and sons all worried for their loved ones up in the North fighting against the terrifying enemy from a half remembered legend not knowing if they would ever see them again…in this world any way.

In Kings Landing and at Brightwater Keep for example, two women worried for their men gently stroking the ears of direwolves when the beasts tried to offer comfort. No matter how much they hoped for the best they feared the worst as news of the great casualties came south from the War against the Second Long Night. Images of their loved ones possible deaths haunted all of their dreams until all they could do was send supplies north and hope that this Long Night would end soon before their loves ones were frozen by the never-ending winter.

Winterfell, the North…

Bran looked out of the window, news of the final battle drawing closer had just reached them and his father had retired to the godswood with Ashara to try and come to terms with the fact that his eldest son was riding into a battle which could well be the end of him. Bran had seen him curse the limp he had developed and wished dearly to take Robb's place but Robb had ridden out regardless now Bran worried as his father sat brooding for hours on end ignoring all attempts to move him.

Listening hard Bran could hear the gentle sobbing of his sister in law Alys as she cried into the fur of Greywind in the next room. Ever since Robb had left she would cry herself to sleep at night, terrified that the raven would arrive announcing his death. She cradled her young son Benjen in these times who like his mother would cry, picking up on her worry. Even without his powers Bran could sense how upset she was by Robb's continued absence and terrified she would never see him again. That all their son would know of his father was stories she would tell him, never mind the second child that even now was growing in her belly.

That was enough to make Bran snap, he could no longer stand by and do nothing while others fought and died on his behalf. He was no great warrior and his magic not strong enough to make a difference on the battlefield but he thought with determined anger there must be something he could do, if only he could reach the Three Eyed Raven he thought.

A solution occurred to him that was certainly a bad idea, one that his namesake would surely have laughed and done just for the sake of it. He had learnt the theory of apparition but had never tried it himself so with trepidation he closed his eyes and fixed the image of the Great Weirwood in his mind, calling on his magic he thought for a moment that he was doing something wrong as nothing happened until he felt the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tight space until cold air wrapped around him instead.

Opening his eyes Bran saw the familiar sight of the largest Weirwood tree in the world and smiled as his ran his hand against its bark. Entering the cave he was anticipating the sight of the old man that had taught him to channel his magic only for disappointment and confusion to take hold when he saw that the Raven was not there. He honestly did not understand it, Bran raged how could the Raven who was so old he could hardly move suddenly disappear especially at such a critical time. They needed him, he needed him Bran thought and sat in space where the Raven had once sat as despair gripped him. What could he do now? How might he aide his brother and all of the men that were now about to fight against the ancient enemy? He was lost for a moment in his depression when he remembered the power of the tree he sat in, looking towards the nearby branch he cautiously reached towards it before briefly stopping wondering if this was a good idea. He had no clue as to what might happen but with so little knowledge what else could he do Bran reasoned? So with a slow and unsteady hand he grasped the branch, the sole thought in his head that he must seek help. The only thing that guided him as the sensations overwhelmed his mind and his eyes rolled back.

Vision starts…

Bran did not know where he was, it was a void of near nothingness, no trees or buildings, no real sky or ground beneath his feet. He floated wondering what had brought him here and wondering how he might leave when a gentle hand grasped his arm. Startled Bran turned and saw the smiling face of Ser Brynden Rivers looking at him.

"I told you that you must have an idea what you want to use the trees visions. Otherwise you might end up in a bad place." The old man admonished him but it was with a chuckle glad to see the boy. A strange creature then appeared next to them. It was almost childlike in its appearance despite the old look in its eyes, resembling a human in its basic shape except that it had claws instead of finger nails and a greenish grey skin.

"The human stumbles blind, much like you did at first but now he comes to us seeking help." The creature named Leaf said except now Bran realised that it was a Child of the Forest. One of the ancient beings that had fought the First Men and rather tragically created the White Walkers.

"I do need your help." Bran admitted feeling rather small compared to both Ser Brynden Rivers and Leaf who were far older and wiser than he. "There must be something I can do to aide my brother and the rest of the men that will fight the Army of the Dead. Please tell me?" He urged desperately and the two looked sadly at him and Ser Brynden said.

"You alone cannot change events." Ser Brynden said as images of the vicious battle that was to come raged through his mind, the outcome hidden from him. The sight of his brother dying however was too much for Bran to bare and he looked to Ser Brynden and Leaf.

"You have to help me! Please?" Bran urged with pleading in his eyes. He could not let that outcome happen. Ser Brynden was about to sadly tell him there was nothing he could do when Leaf suddenly had a strange idea.

"Alone you might not be able to influence the battle but with our help it might be possible." Leaf said with a slight smile as an idea of how to change the course of events ran through her mind. Before the lifting of the binding on magic it would not have been possible but now if the three of them worked together it might just be achievable.

"What can we do?" Bran asked Leaf eagerly with a smile for the first time in days while Ser Brynden looked on confused. The world shifted around them as Leaf created a centre, in this case a Weirwood tree to focus their combined powers. Leaf stepped up to it and said with a smile.

"Do as I do."

Vision ends…

Long Lake, the North…

The area the Night King had chosen for the final battle of the war was by large flat and unobstructed. Hadrian frowned as he saw that getting the elevation for a better angle of fire to use his rockets and trebuchets was going to be much harder. Not impossible but definitely less effective than they would have been on a hill. The battlefield itself was enormous as the water in the lake had frozen solid and the sheer number of wights present was shocking. Hadrian's eyes widened slightly as he counted what must have been well over three hundred thousand of them, so many different shapes and sizes it was the oddest sight he had ever seen. Human corpses standing shoulder to shoulder with snow bears, mammoths and giants to name a few.

The men set up their artillery while the dragons were saddled and made ready to fight. Men lit their torches and readied shields for when the wights would charge. The brotherhood readied their own equipment and many of the more experienced ones felt a strange tension in the air. A prickling at the back of their minds that something was not right. Sweeps of the area had revealed nothing but still the feeling persisted. Looking over to the artillery Hadrian saw they were ready and turned to Jon who had decided to fight on foot for this battle. He would fight alongside his men this time, some had whispered the king was a coward for allowing his dragon to do his fighting for him and while Jon did not care if men called him a coward it might boost morale if he fought with them. Not to mention that he had one of their Valyrian steel weapons and his sword would be more useful on the ground than in the air. Shaena, Daenerys and Rhaenys could command the dragons in the sky, something that was more important given the sheer number of wights.

However one thing was missing and it was a big worry, Hadrian could not see any sign of the Ice dragons. Recent sightings reported just yesterday of the beasts confirmed the Night King had at least two more ice dragons but there was no sight of them here and now where they would be of most use. They could take advantage of their presence here and freeze castles Hadrian thought but getting rid of the army that is hunting down and destroying his best weapons would be more useful to the Night King in the long run. Looking to the sky the clouds were undisturbed so either the ice dragons were above them or not up there at all.

Jon had many of the same thoughts as Hadrian turned and nodded to his strongest vassal. Hadrian returned the nod and called out to the artillery.


The men loaded the rockets and bombs and primed their trebuchets and launchers, aiming as best they could at the enemy while the dragons took to the sky and circled clear of any possible bombardment waiting till it was safe to begin their attack. Seeing they were clear Hadrian then shouted out his next command.



The Night King watched from the safest point, near the frozen lake as the foolish humans threw their strange weapons at his servants. Wights reduced to ash by the green flame, many of his giants had been caught in the initial barrage which irritated him as they were useful weapons but most of his army was as of yet unaffected by the human assault. Then he watched as the dragons descended on his army, breathing great arcs of fire across the field consuming his soldiers. Yet they just stood there taking the punishment without even charging at the human lines, the Night King smiled a wide grin that would have scared anyone else with the malevolence it conveyed. Just as he had planned they would.

He raised his arms and commanded his servants to emerge from their hidden place and ensure the humans would know that now, their time had passed it was the age of him and his people now.


The sounds of the bombs and rockets masked the loud cracking of the ice that covered the lake, shattering like glass to reveal four ice dragons which took flight and flew straight at the humans and their dragons. Shaena, Daenerys and Rhaenys only had seconds to react as the ice dragons struck with their freezing breath. Daenerys and Rhaenys managed to pull their dragons clear of the dragon's icy blast and Sunfyre narrowly followed their lead but Terrax who Shaena was riding and Sheepstealer were not so lucky, they were not caught head on by the blast which would have been surely fatal but their wings where caught in the very edge of the blast, coating them with a thin layer of ice that rendered them useless. Shaena was powerless as she and her two dragons plummeted to earth the only thing that saved their lives in the end was a deep snow drift and a strong cushioning charm that softened the landing.


While the three remaining dragons dodged and weaved their way around the four ice dragons, the rest of the human army looked on in shock as their best weapon was rendered useless by the enormous ice dragons and could only take cover as one of the creatures descended on the trebuchets and rocket launchers destroying them with a tremendous icy blast catching many of their operators in the same blast.

Hadrian looked over in astonishment and gritted his teeth, he cursed himself for his arrogance. The Night King was over eight thousand years old he was not stupid. Why else choose this battlefield where the Ice dragons could be hidden so easily? It had cost them two of their best advantages and now he saw the wights begin to charge. Turning to Kinvara he said quickly.

"Aid my wife, I have this." Hadrian said, urging his lion to do the same and with a twist he disappeared. Most of the men were so focused on the wights that they did not even notice he had gone nor Kinvara when she disappeared seconds later. Raga now alone ran towards Shaena as his human had instructed.

Appearing behind the wights Hadrian reached down deep and drew on all of the power he could, calling out words to focus his mind.


Hotter than normal flames erupted from his hands at the turned backs of the wights, cutting down a huge swath of them in a single blast. Now the wights turned their attention to him and a large number charged towards him rather than the normal human soldiers just as he had planned. Moving his hands to direct the flames he continued to destroy as many as would come his way. He hoped this might reduce the odds against them a little but as the sweat dripped from his forehead he had no idea how long he might be able to hold it.


The front lines were trembling as thousands of wights came charging straight at them. Archers drew their bows and let loose arrows set the wights ablaze, thinning out their numbers as best they could but there were just too many to be stopped. The wights crashed hard into the shield wall that the heavy infantry had raised, putting the humans back a step as they tried nearly in vain to hold them back. Men behind the struggling shield bearers jabbed lit torches or spears that had set ablaze into the wights to whittle them away while the wights themselves clawed at the shield bearers with hands, daggers and ever teeth. The sound of their relentless attacks and smell of rotting flesh was overwhelming and the men could barely cope as they struggled on but slowly they were forced back by the sheer number of wights baring down on them. In some places the wall failed and men screamed as they were torn apart by wights, sending the spirits around them deeper into despair before it could be re-established.

Sandor Clegane stood shoulder to shoulder with Robb Stark and Randyll Tarly as they struggled to hold back the enemy. Forgoing his great sword the Hound was wielding a large lit brazier and was using its long reach combined with his own great height to set wights ablaze while other men held the shields. He had never seen anything like this…not in all of his years as he put side his aversion to fire in the sure knowledge that these creatures would kill him if he did not.

Robb Stark and Randyll Tarly held both torches and shields as they sweated alongside their men. A short way along the lines Dacey was holding a shield so Jorah Mormont could attack the wights with a similar brazier to Sandor. Jon and Arthur likewise held shield and torch while Obara held her brazier like a spear, moving quickly to end as many wights as she could while she grew more and more exhausted.

Carts rushed around their lines and from the back, flame throwers and archers armed with flaming arrows hanging on for dear life before they finally managed to get stable enough to fire. Arcs of fire spewed out and consumed waves of wights while archers took out more wights at further range with their arrows. It eased the situation on the infantry slightly but the wolf, bear and shadowcat wights then turned towards them and started to give chase, terrifying those who rode on them. Two carts were overwhelmed as the shadowcats and wolves caught up and leapt aboard. The fuel exploded as people fell against the fuel tanks and they were ignited by lit arrows or the flamethrowers being broken from their mounts.

Those that avoided the fast wights had to turn their attention to their pursuers, not able to aid the infantry against the wights any longer. Ygritte was beginning to sweat as she saw all of the wight beasts that were coming after her cart, she had never feared beasts before but this time quietly to herself she would concede to being a little…unsettled.


Shaena was still dazed when she managed to get to her feet and look around. The sight of the ice dragons trying to kill their fire breathing cousins, the wights baring down on the human soldiers held back by the narrowest of margins. She turned back on her dragons, using her magic she smiled as despite the hard landing and ice on their beautiful wings her dragons were unharmed. She called on a fire spell to melt the ice so they could fly again when a distinct pop made her whip around and only a quick shield charm saved her life as ice shards bounced off of it.

Shaena's eyes widened as she saw the creature standing in front of her. It looked like a White Walker but not like any she had ever seen before. It was female in shape and had none of the emasculated skeletal look of the other walkers, almost like it was well fed and had the curves to make men drool. Her eyes might have been the same blue as the others but they seemed more alert and intelligent but what scared Shaena most was the magic the Walker had used. Just like hers only twisted and corrupt Shaena thought and the twisting of something so pure made her angry. So angry she was going to enjoy gutting this creature into ice crystals, piece by piece. Seeing the strange horns of ice that seemed to be growing through her head like a crown she made a guess as to just who this creature was.

"The Night Queen, I presume?"

The creature did not talk back, its vicious smirk only grew bigger as she began to conjure ice shards which hovered around her. Shaena held her shield charm while dodging as many as she could. She threw a blasting hex at the Night Queen but the hex seemed to only push her back a step before she replied with a blasting hex of her own. Shaena narrowly dodged the curse and then the Night Queen lent right back to an impossible angle as a dragonglass dagger flew straight past her. Kinvara appeared and raised her hands ready to join the fight but the Night Queen seemed unconcerned. In fact she smiled her terrible smile even wider as if enjoying the idea of fighting and then killing the two of them. Both the former priestess and dragon princess gritted their teeth as they stared her down.

Moving tandem they both went on the offensive, attacking with whatever spells that they could think of. Shaena used a blasting hex again, quickly followed by a leg locking jinx, Kinvara meanwhile used more aggressive but energy draining spells namely the crucio curse and a purple coloured curse that would cause blood to boil in the veins. They kept up their bombardment using every spell that they could think of but much to their frustration the Night Queen just pivoted, sidestepped or ducked around them with the skill of a born dancer then she apparated herself straight behind them and cast a blasting hex that Kinvara managed to avoid but it caught Shaena, throwing her off her feet into a snow drift.

Wiping the snow from her eyes, Shaena glared at the Night Queen who was now conjuring ice spears to throw at Kinvara almost lazily while the sorceress was struggling to either deflect them with shields or evade them. The dragon princess got to her feet and with her vision clouded with anger, she began conjuring her own projectiles javelins but instead of using steel which would shatter on contact with she decided to use wood and banished them with all the vicious effort she could.

The Night Queen was so focused and full of amusement at playing with Kinvara almost being forced to dance to avoid her ice spears that she did not notice the wooden javelins until they struck. They could not penetrate the freezing skin of the Night Queen but they did get her notice, one even smacked her straight in the face.

The Night Queen lost her smirk and actually looked at Shaena as if to say 'Did you really just do that?' Shaena gulped briefly but before the Night Queen could respond she was hit by a blast of fiendfyre from Kinvara, the sheer force of which knocked her backwards until she flipped with a handstand upright again now snarling at both of them. Kinvara and Shaena both looked at each other worried at their enemy's strength but both straightened their shoulders and back as they faced the Night Queen who raised her hands and suddenly an almighty blast of cold similar to that of an ice dragon blast appeared from nowhere. Shaena and Kinvara conjured their fiendfyre and forced it towards the Night Queen only for the supposedly unstoppable living fire to be stopped in mid-air. Shaena and Kinvara strained as they struggled to push their fire forwards towards the Night Queen who regained her smile as she countered their every move, suddenly ending the icy blast and apparating herself out of the way of fire and reappearing to the side hitting both Kinvara and Shaena with a banishing curse. Their eyes widened as they were caught unprepared and blown backwards off their feet, momentarily stunned they only just managed to avoid a barrage of ice spears that followed them before they got to their feet and continued the fight.


Hadrian meanwhile was breathing hard as he channelled the near uncontrollable elemental fire in hope of stopping the wights from slaughtering all of his men, a fight he losing he thought with despair as he saw the wights press even harder against their lines.

Daenerys and Rhaenys who were clinging to the saddles of their dragons for dear life as Daeron, Elinor and Sunfyre narrowly avoided the blasts of fatal cold from the ice dragons that were chasing them.

The members of the Brotherhood strained along with the rest of the men holding the shield wall while they were pushed further and further back. Sandor and the rest of the men honestly thought that this was it…the end. Nearby the Night King smiled as he saw the humans falter, they might not be giving up and running as he had imagined but they would fall all the same.

Then over the noises of battle, a sound so small it would easily have been lost in the background were it not so unique came over the battlefield. The men that heard it felt strange, their fear and despair slowing evaporating for no reason and their already tired muscles began to regain their strength. The wights also began to slow in momentum, becoming more sluggish and less rabid in their attack.

The men that could looked around to try and find the source of the strange sound that now had grown louder becoming a song. As it became louder the living felt themselves becoming stronger, they could not understand it but it was welcome whatever it was. Especially as they all noticed that the song seemed to hurt the ears of the White Walkers all of whom were grimacing as if in pain. Looking to the sky as the song grew louder they all finally found its source and even Randyll Tarly had to say "Fuck me" when they saw what it was.

Above in the dark and cloudy sky like an image from a dream was over forty large and small dragons cruised the skies alongside the most glorious birds that any of them had ever seen, red and golden plumage that made the Lannister banner look plain in comparison and from them came the song that lifted all of their spirits.


In the vision world Bran stood in a large circle with Children of the Forest and Ser Brynden Rivers holding hands on the tree as they focused their combined will into the living world. None of them spoke for in their unified state they could understand each other far better than words could ever express, their thoughts and feelings all completely joined as one to bring the dragons and phoenixes of Valyrian Ruins to the North to aid his brother and the rest of the living against the walkers. Already the song of the phoenixes lifted the spirits of the men and restored their strength but that would not be enough so now they commanded the dragons to attack.


The wild dragons of Valyria went into a dive above the field, many streams of powerful flames lit up the field as wights were incinerated as thirty dragons burned the army of the dead into ashes. With the guidance of Bran, the deep channel was cut along the wight lines and the pressing weight against the human shields began to ease. So many of the dragons unleashed their fire on the wights that the ground was burnt black as the wights were reduced to ashes.

The Night King looked around, caught completely off guard by the surprising reinforcements. He did not understand how this could be, he wanted to try and kill some of the dragons to add to his forces but he did not know where to start, there were so many. Especially as one dragon destroyed the wight horses he and his men had been riding. Confusion spread amongst his people and they did not know which way to turn.

In the air above Daenerys and Rhaenys did not see the carnage beneath them and instead watched in awe as ten more dragons began to attack the ice dragons, swarming them as if they were wolves working as a pack to take down a bear, burning more of the icy blue scales as the ice dragons howled in pain. Both Daenerys and Rhaenys turned their dragons around and joined in the attack bring the ice dragons down to the ground before strafing them again and again feeling a great sense of elation shared by those on the ground. The screeching of the ice dragons as they were burned to death by their fire breathing cousins was harsh to the ear and made those who heard it sad that such beautiful creatures had to die but for the sake of all life it had to be done.

One thing however was clear, with the arrival of the dragons and the phoenixes the tide had turned.


The dragons' arrival brought a great sense of relief to Hadrian who finally could stop using fiendfyre to try and stem the enemy's numbers. He took a steadying breath and calling what magic he had left he apparated himself over to near the rest of the brotherhood while everyone was distracted by either the remaining wights or watching the dragons as they cleared away the wight army.

Seeing the opening that the dragons had created to forty or so White Walkers including the Night King he grabbed the last couple of dragonglass grenades and apparated himself towards the white walkers, throwing the grenades before quickly apparating away. The pair of grenades caught the walkers and vaporised fifteen of them before they even knew they were under attack. Hadrian reappeared a short distance away with the phoenix song giving strength to his tired body, he raised his sword in preparation as he faced the remaining walkers who snarled at him although the Night King looked impassive. Neither charged as tension hung in the air, only the roars of dragons and the music of the phoenixes could be heard Hadrian knew no fear, the magic of the phoenix had banished it from his mind he was ready to face the walkers.

Then there was a thumping in the snow and Hadrian briefly turned his head to see the rest of the brotherhood led by Jon running to join him, charging through the fire of the dragons as if a narrow path had been left for them. With the rest of his fellows at his back Hadrian finally charged as did the Walkers, meeting in the middle in a vicious clash of ice and steel.


The Night Queen smirked as she saw blood turning the snow red, the source was the witch Kinvara who held her arm tightly after a glancing blow from a cutting cure had sliced open her flesh. She was glad it had been only a glancing hit as it meant she would keep her arm, providing of course she lived to heal it with magic she thought grimly. She had underestimated the Night Queen's strength and now she felt depleted having thrown everything she had at the Night Queen and it had barely fazed her.

Likewise nearby Shaena was breathing heavily, her strength nearly spent as she leaned forward with her arms and legs aching from all the fighting. They had exhausted their supply of dragonglass and Shaena try as she might could not get anywhere close enough to use Dark Sister. The Queen was simply too fast and too powerful to pin down or overwhelm. Seeing the Night Queen conjure more ice spears presumably to run them through with both a wheezing Shaena and Kinvara tried to stand ready to evade or dodge the attack when a sudden roar sounded.

Raga, dressed in similar dragonglass armour to the dragons charged across the snow and rammed himself straight into the Night Queen, contact with the dragonglass seemed to burn the Night Queen but it did not kill her since it had not broken her cold pale skin. Still it forced the Night Queen back a step as she hissed at the lion which roared back, not in the least scared by the strange thing in front of him that looked like a woman but smelled like a corpse. The dear lion's attempts to protect his human's mate allowed Shaena with one last burst of magic to apparate herself right behind to the Night Queen and with as much of a thrust as she could manage, drove Dark Sister into the Night Queen's frozen heart.

The Night Queen was still smarting from the blow Raga had dealt her and was so focused on the lion that she did not notice Shaena until the Valyrian steel sword was forced through her cold chest. She was shocked for a brief moment, looking down at the blade that was stuck through her chest she just stared as she started to dissolve into ice crystals.

When finally the bitch had disappeared into the wind and snow beneath their feet, Kinvara and Shaena both wandered over to the still grounded Terrax and collapsed against the dragon's side, sighing in exhaustion while the nursed their wounds and kept warm with the dragon's heat while Sheepstealer hobbled over and lay next to Terrax. Raga came over and curled protectively against Shaena who smiled and gently as she scratched the lion's ears. Kinvara now used what magic she had left to heal her arm and catch her breath.


The Brotherhood clashed with the White Walkers in a furious contest of Valyrian steel, dragonglass and ice. Slightly outnumbered they nevertheless fought on while the regular soldiers looked on in awe, already stories that they would tell to others of the clash of titans, the chosen warriors of humanity clashing with the ice demons that threatened life itself.

Despite being outnumbers about two to one, the Brotherhood fought ferociously not giving their enemy a moment to gain any upper hand. Sandor Clegane used his great strength, added to by the gauntlets that he wore to cut his way through two walkers before moving on to a third who focused so much on Sandor that they did not notice when Obara Sand stuck her spear into its back.

Robb Stark waved Ice around with ease as he moved, something that would not have been possible without the gauntlets and easily parried the strikes of the walkers before he found a gap in their defences and reduced them to ice crystals, his own back saved from an ice spear only by the quick intervention of Jorah Mormont who then quickly dispatched the offending walker in a joint impalement alongside Arthur Dayne. Ygritte worked in tandem with Yara Greyjoy, who would distract or hold a walker while the wildling archer threw a dragonglass dagger into it when her arrows ran out.

Hadrian was smirking as he moved through the walkers, cutting them down with a sure and steady hand. The Brotherhood slowly started to whittle away the numbers of the walkers, men would later swear they fought with a grace and fury that rivalled gods although only after a few cups of ale.


While most of the brotherhood fought the normal walkers; Randyll Tarly, Robar Royce, Loras Tyrell and Jon Targaryen found themselves separated from the rest and face to face with the Night King himself. The proximity of the first and oldest of the Walkers, said to be a servant of the Great Other himself seemed to dull the song of the Phoenix song that floated across the battlefield although the song still caused him irritation, something he had every intention of taking out on the foolish humans that had stolen away his victory. Although in constant cold, anger flowed through him and he drew his ice sword from its sheath ready to face them in battle.

The human men all gripped their swords nervously none ready to make the first move against the impossibly tall figure of the Night King just yet, his inhuman blue eyes staring at them with a lack of expression which only made them feel worse.

Randyll Tarly was an experienced soldier who had faced just about every foe you could think of in Westeros at least but when faced the creature in front of him, he had to gather his courage as a primal fear ran through him as if somewhere in the very essence of his soul he knew that this creature was pure evil and was impossible to stop. When that instinctive reaction passed through him however he suddenly realised how stupid that thought was, nothing was invincible and even the best of warriors could fall. He tightened his hold on his sword and prepared to attack, Robar and Loras meanwhile were still held hostage by their own fear and loosely held their swords not sure of themselves or their skill in the face of such a creature as they were faced with.

Jon simultaneously had other thoughts, remembering the words of his ancestor that the sword in his hand would wound the Night King but not kill him. He knew he had to try to stop the Night King but he just wished he knew what his ancestor had meant when he had spoken about the fire stones. He did not have any more time to think on that though as Randyll Tarly charged at the Night King and not willing to let the lord of Horn Hill face the Night King alone Jon charged right after him.

His youth allowed him to catch up to Randyll just as they reached the Night King, who blocked their sword swings with his ice sword easily. Jon and Randyll were both surprised at the fact that he so easily blocked their strikes and both men put all of their weight and enhanced strength against the Night King who dug his feet in and slowly started pushing them back. Both men struggled as hard as they could and they briefly caught each other's eye, sharing a look of disbelief and worry before finally when they were on the verge of being pushed over, Loras and Robar charged to their aid hoping to catch the Night King in the back but as quick as a flash the Night King abandoned his crushing press against him and Randyll and moved like lightning to counter the strikes of Loras and Robar shocking both men who might have thought that regular Walkers were fast but now they realised were nowhere near the speed or strength of their king and maker.

Undeterred Jon and Randyll quickly resumed their attack swiftly joined by Loras and Robar but as fast as the men were, the Night King was faster. No matter what angle they attacked him from or however many of them attacked together the ice sword blocked each and every strike. The four men kept up a blistering rate of attack but no swing or thrust found their mark. The fight continued to move as they without realising it got further and further away from the rest of the Brotherhood, leaving the four of them alone to face him. The Night King was completely solid in his defence and intentionally leading them away from their comrades, easier for him to kill.

Robar and Loras were starting to sweat profusely from the effort required to keep up with the punishing speed of the battle. Every trick that they had learned in swordplay was proving useless against this creature and they were getting desperate to break the stalemate before exhaustion began to tell. So stepping back as far as he dared, Loras drew a dragonglass dagger from his belt and threw it straight at the Night King who managed to avoid it but that allowed Robar to thrust his sword straight into the Night King's side. The creature snarled in pain before twisting away, leaving a nasty purple wound as the sword was pulled out of its body, leaving most of the humans dumbfounded as normally contact with dragonglass or Valyrian steel would end a walker in mere moments but as they watched the wound actually healed itself in seconds.

All four men swallowed as they realised how ineffective their weapons were going to be against this enemy. But with little choice left they continued to attack, only now the Night King angered at their wounding him went on the offensive.

His speed at which he swung his heavy ice sword was unbelievable as he seemed to be attacking from nearly every possible angle at once and with that speed his strength became even greater, staggering the humans as they struggled against him. Robar and Jon were the main focus of his attacks, the two men working together only just barely able to hold him off. Their arms ached so bad that their tendons stood out while their skin became white from effort. Sweat poured from their foreheads only to near immediately freeze due to how cold the air was around them. They began to get slower and slower as their energy drained away, finally gaps opened in their defences that the Night King exploited ruthlessly.

His freezing fist hit Jon in the chest, nearly shattering a couple of ribs had it not been for the gauntlets and his armour but he was sent sailing through the air before crashing into a snow drift a few feet away momentarily dazed while Blackfyre fell from his hand as he lay there. Robar however was not as lucky as Jon, with his speed lessened by fatigue and no help from Jon the Night King easily used his ice sword to slash open Robar's throat before delivering a shattering kick to the chest, caving in his rib cage and sending his body flying into a snow drift. Robar was dead before his body hit the ground leaving Randyll and Loras to carry on the fight alone.

While the two Reachmen found themselves faced with the full wrath of the Night King, Jon was struggling to get to his feet. His chest hurt worse than he had ever imagined and his strength seemed to have left him. He felt more like a helpless babe than the King/Emperor of Westeros, he only just managed to struggle towards Blackfyre which was just slightly beyond his reach. He slowly managed to edge closer to the hilt of his sword as his body screamed in agony, his fingers only just touching the large ruby that formed the pommel of the sword so he could pull it into his hand when Jon noticed something that he had not noticed before.

The ruby not only had a slight glow to it that had been absent before this campaign but also it was slightly warm to the touch just like the fire stones on the gauntlets he wore.

"A fire stone." He said in barely a whisper, his mind was still dazed but even then he knew it was significant somehow. What had his ancestor said, collectors of energy, the stone in his sword must have absorbed some energy he realised from the gauntlets as he used them.

As he grasped the hilt of his sword and struggled to his feet just in time to see Randyll's right arm being severed at the elbow, his forearm and Heartsbane falling to the ground. The man cried out in pain before the Night King thrust his ice sword straight through Randyll's head killing him instantly. Jon was stunned to see Robar and Randyll's deaths and was about to charge in some hopeless attempt to avenge him when suddenly the dazed state that had engulfed his mind after the hit cleared and he realised just what his sword having a magical stone that could absorb and channel energy meant. He reached out with the bond he shared with his dragon and called out her name.


A whoosh announced his dragon's arrival as she flew close overhead, holding his sword into the air as high as he dared he called out.


The female green dragon breathed her powerful flames as ordered, engulfing his sword and his hands but it did not hurt Jon, in fact it seemed to give him strength as the pain in his chest began to ease and his energy seemed to return. The Night King who was about to sever Loras' head clear from his shoulders instead turned to Jon while Loras with sheer exhaustion collapsed to the ground, barely conscious. Jon pulled his sword and hands free of the dragon's fire and the sight made the Night King stop and stare at Jon in surprise.

The clothing had been burnt away on his arms although the steel gauntlets and sword remained but now the red stones on each glowed with near blinding intensity but they were not alone for the blade of the sword was no longer mere Valyrian steel, instead it glowed with a fierce light and radiated a burning heat but Jon himself was unaffected holding it with a firmness and resolve that he been lacking before all his energy restored by the dragon fire. The Night King did not know what to make of the sword and instead readied his blade, not expecting anything more than it to be a cheap trick like some of the other magic users had used on his people in the past and he walked forward, a move that Jon mirrored. Then when they met in the middle and their weapons met a loud clang sounded over the field, sending both of them back a step with the force of the impact which shocked them both but they quickly moved forward again to continue the engagement.

The clangs of their weapons echoed around the field, heard far away as they matched each other blow for blow. Jon's arms and sword empowered by the fire stones turning the dragon's fire into its purest and deadliest form. Pure magical energy with the heat of a dragon, focused into a single weapon that even now was slowly cracking the ice sword of the Night King who was so focused on Jon that he failed to notice that his weapon was slowly being destroyed from each contact with the glowing sword. He was determined to break through the human king's defences that he just kept pressing sure that the next attack with be the one.

Finally his ice sword could take no more and shattered after one final strike from Jon, the Night King had barely a moment to react before he felt a pain in the back of his head. Loras Tyrell laying on his stomach lay there breathing heavily as the dragonglass dagger he had thrown found its mark.

The distraction allowed Jon the split second he needed to plunge his glowing sword straight into the frozen heart of the Night King. The millennia old ice demon struggled against the sword as Jon held it firmly in the Night King's chest, cracks forming along his grey skin with light breaking out from underneath. The more he struggled the wider the cracks became and the faster they formed, Jon used all the strength he could muster to keep the sword in place as the struggling of the Night King got worst until finally the knees of the Night King gave out and he fell to the ground no longer able to fight hard against Jon.

The cracks now had spread across the Night King's entire body, light burning out from underneath its grey skin. Even its unnatural blue eyes were now affected as the Night King seemed to crack like a glass doll until with a final pulse of light so bright that Jon and Loras had to look away, the Night King exploded into the smallest ice crystals imaginable which shone golden for a moment before fading away into nothingness.


Across the battlefield the remaining walkers seemed to stagger, as if hit by an invisible blow which sapped their strength. The brotherhood watched in surprise before taking advantage of this brief moment of weakness and advanced with either dragonglass or Valyrian steel, snuffing out the walkers before they had a chance to react. With the last of their masters fallen, the wights suddenly fell with no one left to hold up their strings, the humans looking on in surprise as the wights fell one by one. It was a strange scene as the living found themselves watching as the dead returned to their rest and the threat that they had posed to all life had finally passed. Weariness came upon all of them as their minds finally caught up with how tired their bodies were.

A Westerlands soldier, stood alongside two of his friends the only ones of his tight knit group of friends to survive the battle. Nearby he saw the corpses of his dead friends; who had dreamed of joining a murmur company to entertain others with his acting that had them in stitches over how over top it was. Acting they would never see again they realised with much grief, another of their friends lay close by with his chest ripped open. His friends remembered that he had wanted to become a healer once his soldiering days were over, he had seen enough death and wanted to bring life and good health to the poor of Lannisport, again another dream blighted before it could be made a reality. They bowed their heads in respect, just wanting to rest and return home.

The song of the phoenix prevented them from sinking into a pit of depression that would happen later once the amazing song birds had returned to their nests in Valyria. Good times spent with their friends were remembered to bring sad smiles to their faces, but then something made them look towards away from the bodies of their friends. All of the men and women on the battlefield looked towards the dark horizon where the storm clouds brought by the walkers still lingered, everyone holding their breath for a reason that they could not really comprehend. Even Hadrian and Shaena did not know why.

Then slowly the clouds began to break, small rays of light started to poke through the thinning clouds. It was a simple thing, one that most would have thought nothing of before the Second Long Night. None of them had seen the sun since they arrived in this freezing land or if they had lived here not since the collapse of the Wall. The thick stormy clouds had blotted out the light and cast them all into a night that had never seemed to end, if not for the clocks invented by House Lannister no one would have even known what time it was.

Until now as the light peaked through the clouds, their breath held as they saw the sun for the first time in months. The light illuminated the battlefield in all of its gruesome horror but the daylight the sun cast was so glorious that none of them thought of that for now. The bodies of the ice dragons dissolving even faster as they were caught by the sun's rays. They all felt its warmth on their faces, a sensation that none of them would ever take for granted again as finally the clouds parted and the sun was revealed in all of its glory. It was a colder winter sun, but still the most welcome sight any of them could have hoped for.

A cheer rose through the entire field as all those who had survived began to accept the truth, the war was over and they had triumphed. Defeated the ancient enemy and vanquished them hopefully forever, ending the Second Long Night and ensuring humanity would know dawn again. The phoenixes and dragons danced in the sky as did the humans on the field, elation at their accomplishment.

But as the phoenixes left for their nests alongside the wild dragons that had saved humanity in their darkest hour, the human cost of the battle began to properly dawn. Made worse when they finished a head count of the survivors. A hundred thousand men had marched into battle and only sixty thousand would march for home. It was the single bloodiest battle in living memory, worse than many of the battles of the War of the Kings combined. Many families would be left bereft, so many sons and fathers and uncles and brothers from every one of the seven kingdoms, the whole nation would be left in mourning.

At least now Hadrian thought as he looked out on the battlefield, they would have the opportunity to grieve and live long lives rather than ending up as the dead pawns of the White Walkers. It brought him little real comfort but at least it was something.


In the vision world that Bran, the Bloodraven and Leaf however there was only jubilation as the ancient enemy was finally vanquished and the world saved from their cold curse. Leaf danced with joy around the imaginary tree while Bloodraven just smiled and lent back against it with a graceful smile, a strange sight Bran thought given how little the man actually smiled.

Bran himself while smiling broadly at the survival of his older brother who would now be finally able to come home and be a father to his own son not to mention Bran's own father might finally be less grim now that he would not have to bury his own son. He could just see his face when Robb returned to Winterfell, alive and unharmed. Alys would now weep with joy rather than fear and sorrow and Benjen would grow up knowing his father, it was everything that Bran had hoped and when he finally returned to the real world he might even risk dancing with Lyanna even with the danger of making a fool of himself but he had one last question to ask the Bloodraven.

"If the supposed 'flaming sword' was used by Jon then how could legends speak of it thousands of years before it happened?" Bran asked confused that people could speak of a blade that had not existed. Leaf laughed at his question and replied with a question to the Bloodraven who looked annoyed.

"You did teach him about how time works right? Oh you silly boy." Leaf said although Bran was not sure just which 'boy' she was talking about. It did irritate him to be called a boy but considering how old Leaf was he conceded that everyone was a 'boy' to her.

"No I did not! There were more important things to impart to him." Bloodraven said glaring at Leaf who just laughed and kept dancing. Bloodraven shook his head in annoyance and turned to Bran to answer his question.

"Time is not a simple linear thing, it bends, twists and flows. Sometimes if something is truly important to history an idea of it can echo backwards in time and into minds that are receptive. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy, the echo of something inspires the object itself." Bloodraven said and was met by a stone faced Bran who just said simply.

"That's silly."

There was a silence before Leaf burst out laughing and said.

"You still have a lot to learn."


Massive pyres were erected to burn the bodies of the dead, set ablaze by the Targaryen dragons. They did not need to do it any more with the White Walkers extinct but it had become standard practice for them now. It would also save digging graves for the dead.

While the living all stood in remembrance for their honoured dead, two smaller pyres had been set aside for Randyll Tarly and Robar Royce. The flames licked around their bodies, who lay there in their armour looking finally at peace. The Brotherhood stood around solemnly, watching their fallen members to give one last goodbye. Jon and Loras looked on with guilt too as they both felt responsible for the two men's deaths through their not finishing the fight sooner or not being strong enough to do the job. A bundle lay the feet of each pyre, containing the sword and gauntlets of both men as well as their golden brotherhood sun badges. Jon had decided that the moment they were done here he would ride Sunfyre to the Eyrie and then Horn Hill to give these things to their families in person. It was the least that he could do and tell them how valiantly that they had fought and died so that everyone else could live. Obara Sand would accompany him while Arthur led the Crownlands soldiers that had survived home. Other lords would do the same once they were finished the following day.

The dark night showed stars and a full moon but also an aurora of fantastic purples, yellows, greens and reds that reached across the sky, it was a glorious and awe inspiring sight that made many of them feel very small, maybe insignificant but all the same full of wonder. None of them felt cold as the pyres kept them warm. In respect to the dead, they stayed all night watching the flames until dawn. Jon and Loras carefully collected the ashes of Randyll and Robar and stored them in urns to take to their families and then they gathered up the bundles and returned to their nearby tent.

All the surviving members of the Brotherhood filed in after Jon and took their places around the table set up inside, making the two absent seats where Randyll and Robar should have been all the more noticeable. They each poured themselves a cup of wine and raised it as Jon made the toast.

"To Lord Randyll Tarly and Ser Robar Royce, men that gave their lives so that the rest of us could live."

"Lord Tarly and Ser Royce." They all echoed quietly before taking a drink and sitting down. They were all silent for a moment before Robb Stark decided to speak up.

"This battle and those that gave their lives should not be forgotten, maybe we should build something on the site of the battle to commemorate it. A Tower or a town of some sort?" Robb suggested and Hadrian along with the rest of the brotherhood nodded in agreement. Over forty thousand men had died here in the noblest of causes and they deserved to be remembered, Hadrian remembered all the memorials he had seen back in his first life, created to protect the memory of those that had died. It was only right they honoured the men that had fought. So he made his proposition.

"I say those of us that are able to make a donation to a fund that will pay for whatever memorial you decided to build. It might be a long time before we are all together again, if we ever are so it is best we settle any business now."

"I agree." Jorah said and looked over to Kinvara who nodded with a slight smile. "Kinvara and I intend to travel beyond the wall to see what is there. It has never been properly explored and if there are any new threats up there we will find them. Or else return with new knowledge." The rest of the people in the room looked at the man as if he were completely mad and Daenerys looked ready to protest when Jon spoke first.

"If that is what the pair of you wish, but be careful. If something else lives in those cold wastes I want the two of you back here straight away." Jon told them sternly looking much older than his years. The Red Woman and her knight nodded before Kinvara then showed Jon what she had made before the battle.

"Your grace, perhaps you should take this with you." She said pulling out a large canvas with a detailed oil painting on it, amazing them all as a very detailed image of all of them standing together was revealed. "So when people ask about the war you can point to this and say that these men fought at your side."


As the men prepared to march to either the nearest port or across land to get home, there was a sense of anticipation in the air as the men were eager to see their families again including the members of the brotherhood. There was a lot of hand shaking and hugs from a few, but Daenerys was nervously walking up to Ser Jorah who was getting ready to leave with the sorceress Kinvara. Daenerys could not help but feel a little jealous of the Bear Knight's partnership with Kinvara however much she tried to suppress it. When she finally reached him he turned to face her and she found her breath had deserted her.

"Princess, I hope this is not the last time we see each other but we live in an uncertain world do we not?" Jorah said politely with a slight bow and Daenerys was caught short by the fact he did not seem to want to talk to her, something that she honestly was unsettled by. No one had truly done that to her before and it grated but her own pride aside, Ser Jorah had always been eager to talk to her which she to her regret did not do as much as she should have.

"Ser Jorah." She said pulling herself from her confused thoughts and looking down at her feet unable to meet his gaze. She bit her lip before coming to the point. "When you…died." She said not really able to believe that last word since the man was now here in front of her. "You confessed certain feelings for me. I must ask, did you mean them?"

She almost slapped herself when she said it, of course he meant it you idiot girl she thought to herself it was his dying declaration. She honestly was feeling more like a love-struck teenager than the proud princess of Dragon's Bay, a dragonrider or the Great Khaleesi of the Dothraki. She just did not know what to say to him, all experience and teaching she had gone through deserting her.

Jorah looked at the girl and finally realised just what had been between him and her. A lust, a wanting for more although if it had been his or hers he could not say. Despite not wanting to hurt the beautiful princess he looked to Kinvara who gave him a sad smile and a subtle nod as if sensing his thoughts and he turned to stunning dragon princess in front of him and gently kissed her hand much to her surprise before saying.

"In another life I would have pursued you like a man possessed, you have a manner that can bewitch a man, but the gods have different paths for us. It is better this way, you will return east and live the life of the great ruler you were born to be while I chart the unknown and maybe if the Stark will allow it build a keep of my own in the far north. I can only wish you the best in everything you do in the future your grace." Jorah said with a sad smile giving her another bow before he grasped hold of Kinvara's hand and they disappeared with a pop, leaving a slightly heartbroken Daenerys behind but she knew as she wiped the tear from her face that he was right. Maybe that was why the gods had taken his feelings for her away from him she wondered to make things easier when they finally went their separate ways.

So with a heavy heart she turned and walked over to Daeron who noticed his human's distress and gently rubbed his head against her which she returned, taking comfort from her dragon before she climbed onto his back and took to the skies for the long flight home.

Jon was solemn as he flew over the Vale Mountains, catching sight of their majestic peaks and the occasional castle but he paid them no mind as he finally came within sight of the Eyrie. He saw the tiny forms of men on the walls and the bronze clad figure of Lord Royce, he directed Sunfyre to land at the gates of the castle not looking forward to what he was about to do. Tell a man that his son was dead but it was his duty, after all the man in question had fought and died for him. His own personal honour demanded no less.

As Sunfyre landed at the castle gates he saw the gruff old Lord Yohn Royce walking out to meet him with his nervous household guard who Sunfyre snorted at, clearly amused by the tiny little men who all ran for cover thinking the dragon was about to burn them. Lord Royce turned around looking understandably annoyed while Jon struggled to suppress a smirk which disappeared as soon as Lord Royce approached him.

"Your grace, the hospitality and hearths of the Eyrie are at your disposal." Lord Royce said with a bow, always dutiful and respectful. Jon was suddenly struck by the urge to climb back on his dragon and fly away but instead he forced himself to stay put. He returned the bow, respecting the old lord's reputation as a warrior and a leader before he decided it was best to just tell the old lord straight.

"I am honoured Lord Royce however I will not be able to stop, I have to fly south the moment my business here is concluded. I regret it is not good news that brings me here." Jon said, opening one of the bundles on Sunfyre's back and handing Lamentation, the Brotherhood gauntlets & golden sun badge and then with the utmost care and respect, the urn containing Robar's ashes over to Lord Royce. The old lord immediately knew what it all meant and tears began to gather in the corner of his eyes as he looked at the urn, knowing it contained his second son's remains inside. He was stoic though, fighting to keep the tears back while Jon told him how brave Robar had been.

"I am so sorry for your loss Lord Royce. Robar fought against the Night King himself, fighting warrior and acted as a true man in the face of such evil. He gave his life so that others might live." Jon told Lord Royce who did not really seem to be listening to Jon but nodded and said with a slight tremble in his voice.

"Then he stood amongst the great warriors and knights of my house, just as he always dreamed. Thank you your grace, now if you will excuse me I must break the news to the rest of my family." Lord Royce then turned and returned to keep with his men. Jon watched him go and felt like the lowest creature in existence to have to bring an old man such pain but he turned and got back on Sunfyre's back before taking to the skies again now heading further south to the Reach, specifically where he would have to tell the rest of House Tarly that their lord and father would not be coming home.


At Horn Hill it was just as bad where Dickon Tarly stood as strong as he could for his mother and sisters who were openly weeping. Dickon took the urn containing his father's ashes, slightly angered that his body had been burnt rather than brought home intact but there was little he could do in the face of his king and the dragon Jon rode. Once Jon had finished that he bought some meat from a farmer to feed Sunfyre before they headed back to Kings Landing. Anticipation ran through him the city came into sight, he was eager to see his wife again wondering if their child had yet been born.

The sight of the King's dragon as it flew overhead caused much cheering as the people welcomed their ruler home. At the gate of the Red Keep, Jon saw his small council gathered to see his return. The small form of Lord Tyrion Lannister was standing firm with Ser Barristan and Samwell looking glad to see their king again, but the form Queen Margaery Tyrell ran down the steps accompanied by the king/emperor's direwolf and threw herself into Jon's arms who tightened around her and kissed her with all the love and passion that had built up in their months apart.

Margaery herself was giving just as good as her husband, all the passion inside her put into the kiss that she was giving to her husband. She had been terrified that she would never see him again, or her brother who had been fighting at his side. Visions of her raising their child alone and weeping over Jon's destroyed body had tormented her since he had set sail for the North, leaving her afraid to sleep. Every day that passed she had dreaded that a raven would come with news of his death.

Ghost had taken to following her everywhere despite anything she or anyone else had done but she had grown to not only accept but enjoy the fierce but silent wolf's presence. The wolf would sit at the foot of her bed and if the nightmares returned he would curl up next to her on the bed, keeping a constant vigil over her.

It had been more helpful than any remedy that Samwell could cook up and now Jon was back in her arms she was not letting him out of her sight for a good while yet. Ghost too was overjoyed to see his master again, leaping up to put his paws on Jon's shoulders so he could lick Jon's face. Both Jon and Margaery laughed as they broke apart and started to pet the white wolf together who like a dog lapped up the attention.

That was the moment that Jon noticed Margaery's stomach was now flat again and it sent a stab of disappointment and excitement through him. On the one hand Jon had hoped he might had been here for the birth of his first child, hold Margaery's hand and support her in any way he could, to see him or her being brought into the world to hold the new-born babe in his arms. Looking from Margaery's belly to her eyes he asked her excitedly.

"The babe?"

His queen smiled and turned to Mira Forrester who Jon now noticed was holding a small bundle, Jon was breathless as the northern handmaiden came over and passed the babe into his arms. Experience from the days when Arya, Bran and Rickon had been born told him how to hold the babe properly but the sight of the child's dark curls much like his and grey eyes that seemed to glow brought a lump to his throat. The cheek bones were those of their mother but this was clearly his child.

"Our son." Margaery said with pride as her hand softly on their child's head while Jon stared mesmerised by their child. He could hardly belief this perfect thing that stared up at him with interest had been made by him and Margaery, it seemed too good to believe. He almost did not hear Margaery as she told him what she had named their son. "Aemon Targaryen, named for one of the greatest knights in history and a wise old man at the Wall or so I am told while his sister was named Alysanne after the wife of the greatest and longest reigning Targaryen king." Margaery said with a gentle smile, enjoying the shocked look Jon gave her as Gilly came over carrying a second bundle containing their son's twin. Alysanne had the same luminous eyes as her twin and the same cheekbones of her mother but her dark hair was straighter and one day she would surely be one of the greatest beauties in the realm.

Jon looked nearly ready to faint with the shocks that had greeted him when Margaery carefully handed her babies back to Mira and Gilly and took her husband's arm led him inside the Red Keep with Ghost, an amused looking Small Council and Kingsguard following them. She then whispered in his ear as he regained his senses.

"I believe Lord Tyrion has a surprise for us all tonight as a celebration for the victory." She did not know what the Imp had planned but the smirk on his face promised something unique at least.

Casterly Rock, the Westerlands…

Those that travelled by ship arrived at their homes much quicker than those who marched across land. The Lannister army was amongst the lucky ones and a huge crowd awaited them as they came into dock at Lannisport. As they rode through the city streets song and cheers came from all around them, there was dancing in streets and people even cheered the dragons of Shaena as they flew overhead despite how terrified they were of the creatures normally. Men split off to go and celebrate in the taverns and brothels including Sandor Clegane while Hadrian led the rest of his men to Casterly Rock.

The gate was open as he approached and rode right in to be greeted by the cheers of his household and family, especially his own children who rushed over to meet him. He leapt from his horse and laughed as they wrapped him in an enormous group hug, even allowing Shaena to join it when she dismounted from Terrax.


Brightwater Keep, the Reach…

Loras Tyrell fainted when he passed through the gates of his own castle Brightwater Keep as he saw the small babe in his wife Sansa's arms. Sansa just shook her head while the family servants laughed and carried their lord to his rooms so he could get a stiff drink and come to terms with being a father. Sansa looked down at the small girl she had named Catelyn after her own mother and said to her babe with a wide smile.

"Your father it seems was overcome my girl by your beauty. The women in our family will have to be the level-headed ones it seems." Her smile was wide and warm and Catelyn let out a small giggle which made Sansa and everyone else laugh too.


Winterfell, the North…

Robb had no idea the role his brother Bran had played in the victory at Long Lake as he rode into Winterfell with the rest of the surviving men. Alys ran over to him the moment she saw him and he ran to meet her, gathering her up in his arms and kissing her and their young son while Bran looked on with a smile on his face. He nearly jumped when Lyanna came up behind him and took his hand but he smiled as he looked into her deep brown eyes.

Ned just looked up to the sky and said a silent prayer to thank whichever gods had aided his son and their men in that final battle. He came over to give his eldest son a hug when Luwin came over with a letter from the Reach. The atmosphere was so joyous that Lord Stark said to Luwin with a rare smile.

"Tell us the message Luwin, it is too fine a day for it to be bad news."

Luwin was now himself smiling as he saw the family he served happy again, knowing what he had to say would only add to their elation.

"The message was from your eldest daughter Sansa, writing to inform you of the birth of your first granddaughter Catelyn after your late wife."

Ned's eyes watered as he thought on his sweet daughter Sansa now having a child of her own. The rest of his children were all completely overjoyed at the news and planned to send gifts at once.

Tales of the exploits of the 'Army of Life' and the Brotherhood of the Dawn spread as the men came back from the north and gave their often exaggerated tales in drinking sessions at the taverns or between the legs of a whore. Despite the terrible losses the Seven Kingdoms and their foreign territories had suffered in the fighting they honestly looked to the future with hope, however long this winter lasted summer was sure to come again now and bring with it a new era of prosperity, the day of the battle would surely be remembered for longer than any who had fought there would live, becoming a national holiday in the years to come.

In the skies over Kings Landing and Lannisport the celebration on the night of the men's return would both terrify and awe the common folk and nobility alike. The night was clear without a single cloud as the moon and stars shone, streaks of light zoomed up into the sky before exploding a dazzling array of colour. Some ran screaming, thinking the city was under attack by demons but those that stood were treated to a fantastic show. The king and his family stood in awe of the sight, Tyrion smirking as his adaption to the rockets his brother used as weapons now entertained the people.


The following morning as Jon walked to the Small Council room, having left Margaery and their babes to sleep so he could catch up with any business that had arisen in his absence, an out of breath Samwell ran up to him looking concerned.

"Your grace, something is happening to Sunfyre, she is acting strange." Samwell wished he could give Jon a reason Sunfyre was acting strangely but there was so little literature on dragons now that he had no real clue as to what the green dragon was doing. Jon with Ghost at his side rushed off to see what was wrong with his dragon, the good mood of yesterday completely evaporating.

When he arrived in the large garden area that had been cleared for Sunfyre goldcloaks and Varys looked on in concern, wondering what was wrong with the dragon as the creature seemed to be howling in pain. Jon walked closer, ignoring all calls for him to stop so he could see what was ailing his dragon. The dragon did not snap at him but it did breath fire into the air to scare anyone who dared approach away, Jon however was undeterred and came closer when he saw his dragon was curled up, almost in a protective way around something and then he managed to catch a glimpse as Sunfyre twisted her tail to curl tighter.

There protected by the enormous size of his dragon was four brand new dragon eggs, multi colours they were just as large as the egg that Sunfyre herself had come from. Jon laughed out loud as he carefully retreated from his brooding dragon causing the men around him to wonder if the king had lost his mind. Varys looked at his king and with a slight look of concern asked.

"Is everything alright your grace? If there is a problem I can send for assistance."

Jon merely smiled and told his Master of Whispers.

"The future Lord Varys, the future of a species. Now was there something else on your mind?" Jon asked wanting to hear any crucial points before the meeting so he could think a little on them himself.

It was enough for Varys to realise just what was happening and he honestly felt worried about more of the flying beasts around but he straightened his back and said.

"There are one or two points concerning dragons that I think you should be aware of your grace. Whispers have reached me that some wild dragons are nesting in different parts of Essos while others have returned to Valyria. There is also a potential Blackfyre conspiracy afoot in Qohor and Norvos although I have yet to confirm their involvement. Either way it looks as if someone is plotting against us."

Jon's smile dimmed slightly, become slightly mocking as he sighed and said with resignation.

"The game never ends, does it Lord Varys?"

It was now Varys' turn to smile as he said.

"It is human nature your grace, so…shall we play?" Varys asked Jon who frowned. He would have liked at least one day without the shadowy game of power that was played by many across the world but it seemed that there was no rest for the wicked, so turning to Varys he said with a tired sigh.

"Let the games begin."

And that is the final chapter. I am sorry it has come to an end but I really hope that all of you reading have enjoyed it. I have.

The Westerlands soldier is the character from the show played by Ed Sheeran and the rest of his group, just in case anyone was wondering.

Thank you all again. Sage1988 out…