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Hey everybody! This chapter takes place during Arya's fight in the Godswood Tree and the dragon battle between Jon and the Night King. I hope the chapter is a fun, good read. Please let me know all of your thoughts in the comment section. Have a good one. :-)! - Author's Note Faith Hammett XOXO
Monsoon Fox's POV
"MOVE!!!!"
I use the long handle of the ax to push Gendry away with Arya in his arms. The roof crumbles by the destruction of the blue flames of Dead Viserion. I am sent back when the wasted away stone crashes down. My body hits the ground hard and my helmet face is planted into the mixed snow and muddy ground.
I feel my ears ringing when I struggle to get to my feet for a few moments. I place my gloved hands on my helmet head in the throbbing agony still hearing the ringing. I try to get my bearings swiftly due to all of the chaos within and surrounding Winterfell.
I see the pile of rumble before me wondering if Gendry, Arya and the direwolf, Nymeria is alright. I call out to them and thank goodness to Death they reply to me. I sigh in relief in the knowledge they were not crushed. Arya shouts to me that she wants to go get her brother and sister. I think it is a terrible idea however I already know there is nothing I can say that will change her mind.
Arya and Gendry head for the Godswood tree while I know I need to kill as many white walkers before they completely overtake anyone else alive. I look to see the others leading people to the Crypt while the Night's Watch and Freefolk men strike down any white walkers willing to try their luck.
I hear the sound of dragons roaring high above the skies. I do wonder if Rhaegal can even stand a chance against a dead dragon such as Viserion. Viserion may be smaller in size but size does not matter on the battlefield or in the sky. It has been proven in the final battle between the Mighty Vhaegar and the Bloodworm Caraxes during the Dance of the Dragons tales.
My attention goes to the horde of white walkers crawling over the walls like flies to a dead carcass. I see a dead man with a bow and plenty of arrows to use. I grab the bow and arrows then start shooting. I spin around, taking one out. I keep going until I have no more arrows. I use one edge of the bow to bash out the head of a child white walker.
I take out both of my axes then stride toward the horde waiting for me. I raise my axes before my face then hack at them. I cut off several legs, arms and heads of whites then dodge some of their weapons. I chop down another before I cut a head clean off. I begin to retreat back up the stairs to gain some high ground. I kick one down; when one that falls, it falls onto others. I throw another over the stair railing.
I hear a woman screaming while a white walker is charging at her. I see she is carrying her young boy in her arms. It appears that she is bleeding from the blood on her dress and some on the boy. I leap from the stair railing, tackling the white walker chasing the woman. The woman looks at me as I shove the edge of the ax into its skull.
"Go!!!" I shout to the woman.
She does not hesitate to do so while she tightens her arms around the little boy and goes toward the crypt entrance. I get to my feet when I skewered another from behind. Then a man of the Night's Watch Ed, the Freefolk man Tormund, Brienne of Tarth, and Beric rush into the battle, takes on the horde. Beric stabs one in the face with his flaming sword while Brienne slashes one in half. I see the Hound, Podrick and men of the Night's Watch fight off the others trying to reach the crypt.
Tormund cuts the legs off a charging walker while Ed struggles for a moment against one but manages to gut one with his knife. I jam my axes into the neck of one. The dead corpse falls to the ground when I see a white walker about to get Brienne of Tarth from behind. I move my axes that it blocks the blow. Brienne sees what I did just when I deliver the blow to kill it.
I kick a white walker down, spinning around to stick my axes into the gut of one. The lot of us keeps on going as the dead bodies pile up. I place both of my axes in my left hand to grab a flaming torch. I toss the torch onto the dead piles, setting them ablaze so the Night King will not be able to bring them back again to his beck and call.
Some white walkers came at me from behind; I jam my axes at them over my shoulders. I do a spinning kick to knock more of them back. We keep on killing White Walkers however it is not enough. They face all of us able to fight head on. Suddenly an ice cold fist hits me in the throat. I cannot help but to take a few steps back to see it is one of the Others.
I quickly attempt to regain myself when the ice spear tries to come down on me. My axes stop the ice spear barely scratching my head helmet. This other uses brutal force to knock me back that I hit the ground. I try to get up when the Other is about to strike me down. Before I could counteract, Brienne of Tarth tackles the Other to the ground. In an instant, she engages him with her sword. I notice her sword is valyrian steel, The Oathkeeper which will help against her fight with this walker.
The Other knocks her sword away then sends Brienne across the courtyard. She collides into a wall of the yard, falling down with some blood on her face from the impact. She struggles to get up with the Other walking to her. I get in his pathway but he knocks me to the ground. I spin on the ground, using the edge of my ax blades to go for its legs.
He dodges my attack the grabs me by my throat, hitting me in the chest. I gasp for air of the wind being knocked out of me when he hurls the ice spear at me. I shove my ax in front of my chest in the hopes it would block the attack but the ice spear cuts right underneath my left arm. Brienne yells out to me as it happens.
"Ahhhhh!" I let out in the deep cut of the wound when I rip myself away from the white walker solider.
Brienne runs to grab her sword then engages the Other again. Brienne unleashes so many strikes that the White Walker actually could not keep up. She runs her sword through the chest of the Other. The other gives a screeching ice piercing scream. Its entire body shatters into thousands of ice. Some of the white walkers around us fall dead when their creator has fallen.
Everyone else that is fighting notices what happened when Brienne extends her hand to me. I take her hand, getting to my feet. I give a snarling hiss due to my new wound. I take a look and see that I need to take care of this wound or I will not be able to use this arm any further in battle or the rest of my days.
"Let me help, Monsoon Fox. It is the least I can do since you saved my life." Brienne of Tarth tells me. I shake my head yes when we walk over to a spot that is clear of white walkers for a moment. Hopefully long enough to tend to my injury properly. She kneels down to help me stop the bleeding.
"Keep pressure on that wound." I tell her and she places her hands on my wound underneath my left arm. I grab my bag hanging on my belt that holds my mixed herbs, clean wraps, a small mix of water and alcohol in vials. I start the process to clean the wound, apply the mixed herbs, the cover the wound snug tight like I was taught by the Winter Fox. I will have to stitch it up later when getting to the Wolf Woods.
For now, this will have to do. I finish the rest and thank Brienne of Tarth for helping me. We both get to our feet when suddenly it got so quiet. Anyone that was fighting stops to look around to question why the attacks stopped. My eyes go to the flames brightening up the Long Night and amidst the snow falling, there are over twenty shadows walking toward us.
I know in an instant that it is the Others. I had long, hard training for years and can take three maybe four at a time on a good day but this is not one of those days. Brienne and I begin to walk backwards knowing we cannot fight them all.
"Run! Go! Get to the crypt! I'll delay them!"
I push Brienne toward the others. They do not waste another moment when seeing the Others coming through to kill anyone that happens to be barely alive on the ground when they walk past.
"Oh Fuck!!!!" Ed, a man of the Night's Watch says exactly what I am thinking as they start running.
I see a way up to the main wall where a hidden bow and quiver filled with arrows are waiting for me to do the final trick against them. And if this works, it will take out these twenty Others and hopefully thousands of white walkers overrunning Winterfell.
"Maximum effort." I place my axes in my back holster then draw my long sword then grab a torch in my left hand.
I go at them, swinging the flamed torch. It is not enough to send a few of them back. I block a strike from one of them, spin then duck another. I grab a small vial filled with liquid in the weapon pouch on my belt that will make this more fun. I throw the vial at the one closest to me, the vial shatters all over the armor. I toss the torch at that specific Other. Its armor catches on fire, causing the walker to retreat. Its own armor roasts it from the outside to the inside.
I smile at the sight in one of them burning away just before his body shatters into ice pieces. The Others glare at me almost surprised in what I just did. I take out another liquid filled vial, throwing it. It goes all over the face of another. I run and kick it back into a burning pile. The Other appears to not be affected by the fire at first until the liquid from the vial sets it ablaze. It screeches before it bursts into ice pieces.
I twirl my long sword in the enjoyment of taking out one more of them. My eyes go to see that Arya and Gendry have made it toward the crypt entrance. But the dragon battle above catches their attention as it does everyone else including the others. I try to focus my eyes due to how high they are in the sky. I notice someone right behind Jon. I laugh in joy to see my leader, Winter Fox right behind King Jon on dragon back. I want to hear how she did it later.
Arya calls out for her brother but it will do no good. I would be surprised if he could hear anyone on dragon back. His dragon, Rhaegal takes out a good bit of the dead dragon's jaw, causing bits of blue flames coming out of his half jaw line. The Others put their focus on those going to the crypt until I use my long sword to cut one right threw the stomach.
That other shatters into pieces, bringing their attention back to me. All of the men, women and children escaping finally get into the Crypt closing the door behind them. I see this as my chance to get up to the main wall. I charge my way up to the main wall while the others come for me.
I get to the top of the wall; quickly grab the hidden quiver filled with arrows and the bows. I pull out my first arrow, dipping it in the small bucket filled with oil close to me. I use the flames covering the wall to light the arrow head. I hiss in the terrible injury under my left arm. I use my left hand for the bow and my right to grab the arrows.
I shot the first arrow into one of the barrels piled up covering the main courtyard entrance. The arrow goes straight into the barrel but does not respond to the flames like I was hoping. I light another arrow the fire. The second arrow goes into another barrel; still nothing. I let out a yell in frustration when the others are about to walk up behind me.
I fire another arrow which embeds into one of the top barrels. It must be the cold causing the delay of this desperate trick. I light another arrow, launching it right when an Other grabs and tosses me across the walkway of the wall. I lift my head with my bow and arrow still in hand. I contain my agony pulling the string back, engulfing the arrowhead with fire and take aim. I hope they are already deep in the Crypts for what is about to happen.
Arya's POV
I watch as Beric, Podrick, Brienne, Ed and the Hound use anything they can to shore up the crypt door, barricade it so the white walkers cannot break through so easily. It will give everyone enough time to get a head start. Gendry has me in his arms when walking me down to see how many have managed to survive.
There is a bit more people than we expected to see alive in the crypts. There is a least more than a thousand people. I see some of the children and women crying for their loved ones lost in the massacre. Any man with the look of terror in their eyes but still trying to keep any hint of bravery on their face; it will do them no good though.
Is this what our lives would become? The fear of the long night of the sun hiding and the white walkers moving through the woods on their dead horses, hunting in darkness with their ice spiders as big as hounds, smothering out any living life. I thought I wanted to fight against something like this and succeed, even enjoy it. I was proven wrong.
A Freefolk man comes up asking, "Did Tormund make it?"
"I did see him close to the crypt entrance before. He must be here somewhere." Gendry tells him. The few Freefolk continue to search for him while the others finish shoring up the door.
They come down to see the next move to make. The Hound and Beric ask how badly I am injured but I tell them it is nothing. My eyes go down to the grounds of the crypt knowing that Winterfell has fallen. It is dead as if the name Winterfell was written in snow then freshly fallen snow covers it away as if it never was. The Night King and the Army of the Dead are the freshly fallen snow covering Winterfell. The North has fallen...
Lyanna holds up a torch on the walls to look for the marker that the Foxes told her about. She stops when she sees a full moon and a direwolf howling engraved into the top of the stone wall down the hall of the crypt. Lyanna gives a small smile and tells others to look for engraving, markings of a full moon with a direwolf howling. Some of the others do so without a second thought.
"What are you doing?" Benjen questions Lyanna.
"The Foxes said there is a marker we can follow that leads a way out of the crypts into the Wolf woods. The markers are a map out of here." Lyanna says and stops when she spots another engraved marker. Benjen takes a look at the marker and it appears he has never seen this engraved marking. The engraving looks older than anyone alive or dead in this entire crypt.
Lyanna starts to see a marker of the direwolf howling at a full moon engraved marking the further down she goes into the crypt. We follow where the markers lead. Gendry carries me with some struggle however he continues on without a word of it to me. We all travel through parts of the crypt we use to play in when we were growing up before Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister ever came to visit Winterfell.
The more we walk, the older the statues of the one buried in the crypt become. All of the statues of the Winterfell ancestors have a direwolf by their side even when no direwolves were by their sides when they lived. I begin to notice that a few of the statues appears like they have been hacked at, beaten, fallen apart by time or the deep darkness. I do see three statues next to each other and all three of their heads were gone, shattered at the foot of their statues. It was not old age that made that happen. It was something else like their faces were never to be remembered in any shape or form. We continue on.
Every helpless, injured person walks every step in barely a glimmer of hope. I do not blame them. We all have no choice but to keep going to survive. We travel in what feels like miles and miles through the crypt that we all take a break. Gendry sits down and I move off his lap so he can have a breather from carrying me.
I must admit I am impressed that he has carried me this far and only just now breaking a sweat. It must be from all of the blacksmith work he has done over the years. I bring his hand to mine. I am happy that he is here with me in all of this madness. Gendry eases me like he always has.
Suddenly an eruption above Winterfell shakes the walls and floors of the crypt. Many stand up with their weapons in hand, filled with terror that the White Walker made their way into the crypt but I have a feeling that it is the Monsoon Fox delivering the final trick they wanted to do to delay the white walkers. It must have been an eruption from those barrels stacked on top of one another that caused it. I hope it delivered enormous damage to the dead army.
Monsoon Fox's POV
I release the flaming arrow and the arrow flies right between two of the walker soldiers. A few of the others are standing above me until I hear a battle cry higher up. My eyes look straight up to see it is the Freefolk man, Tormund Giantsbane. He somehow got up there to jump down on them. My mouth drops that Tormund is still here fighting. I would expect nothing less from a wildling like Tormund Giantsbane.
"Tormund!!!"
Tormund starts to hack at them, using defensive moves but one of them kicks him over to me. I get Tormund to his feet as I tell him, "You should have gone with them!"
"And miss a chance to fucking fight alongside one of the Foxes of the Sunset Sea? Not a chance for this wildling!" He says with a big ass grin on his face covered in mud and bits of white walker guts. I cannot resist in chuckling in his admiration for us Foxes however I fear it will get him killed.
I do not know if the arrow struck into a barrel and that was my last arrow. The Others are about to attack us until a high pitch hissing noise is coming from the barrels. I grin knowing what is coming. Tormund and I continue to back away. I whistle for my horse and hopefully any horse close by to carry Tormund for what comes next. Thankfully my horse and another is within distance to hear me, galloping at the ground level of the courtyard. I make sure to have my long sword and axes with me before I jump over the wall.
"Jump!" I tell him as I jump off the wall.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" Tormund screams at me like I'm a madman.
I fall down and land directly on my saddled horse. The horse next to me is ready for Tormund. I am grateful it is a heavy draft horse, big enough to carry this Freefolk man. Tormund finally looks at me like I am a madman but he jumps all the same. He ungracefully lands on the horse's back but he lands on the saddle all the same groaning in his nuts hurting from how he landed on the saddle.
"Onward and upward, Giantsbane!" I point in the direction we ride.
Tormund has the biggest fucking grin on his face in hearing the words of the Foxes of the Sunset Sea like the words of other houses of the world. Our horses take off, running over anything that gets in our pathway to the Hunter's gate. The North Gate is about to go at any second as more steam comes from the flaming arrows in the pile of barrels.
The horses jump over piles of dead men, women and a few children with their eyes glaring at us but no light in their eyes. It is Death seeing through their eyes almost like a telescope. Tormund and I manage to take out a few white walkers along the way out. The hooves of the horses crush down on several flesh, blood and bone of white walkers and dead bodies alike.
I smile when the hissing of the barrels becomes ear ringing high all through Winterfell and finally the North Gate goes boom...
The barrels launch like a great ball of orange fire causing an explosion. The whole north gate, walls and broken tower fling into the air all around. The whole grounds of Winterfell shake as this occurs. The earth shaking goes deep into the ground that everyone traveling through the crypts will have no doubt in feeling. A massive dust from the torn apart stone walls joins the snowy fog of the long night while enormous stones come crushing down from the air like a cannon ball. The blown slabs of stone rain down, flattening any white walkers or Others to their deaths.
We ride through the Hunter's gates when I see several white walkers just collapse from the death of the Others, some of the creators taken out by the explosion. Tormund laughs in excitement in what has just happen. I know that explosion at least took out over five thousand or more from the numbers of the Dead Army. It may not seem like much but enough to make a kink in the Night King's plan.
The flames of the explosion set ablaze more parts of Winterfell, the glass garden, Guards hall, armory, and guest house. I know that the white walkers will take out the rest of Winterfell if the flames do not consume it. Winterfell has fallen but to the northern people who live will endure this as long as a true Stark live. And it does through Arya and Jon Stark.
Tormund Giantsbane and I ride on when I ask him, "How did you like that trick, Giantsbane?!"
"Seven Hells of a trick! You have to tell me how you did it!"
"Absolutely; for now, we ride!"
Tormund rides alongside me having the time of his life. I like this man already. He enjoys killing as much as we Foxes do. I get the feeling that no matter what we have planned or do in the future, he will go along with it. He will have a good purpose in the final act of the battle to come. We ride like Seven Hells toward Wolfswood where the surviving people will come out from the tunnels after a while.
Lyanna's POV
We continue on after the roof of the crypt cracks like glass from the explosion the Monsoon Fox did. I wonder if the Monsoon Fox made it out along with the Freefolk man, Tormund. All of us get to a part of a crypt that appears to be separate from the stone masons who did the construction. This place appears to be built like a great hall, finer than any great hall I have ever seen.
However the tunnel stops at a dead end. I let out a low snarl in anger wondering how we are supposed to get out of here. Everyone here begins to turn around in the lost hopes that we went the wrong way and we are all going to die by white walkers. Or die down here in the crypts and rot away with all of the ancestors of the North that ruled so long ago.
Gendry begins to carry Arya back until I see tracks of hoof prints at the wall edge floor. Before I could say anything, the direwolf Nymeria and her remaining pack begins to smell something beyond the dead end. Nymeria takes a moment to walk to the dead end, sniffing the wall knowing there is something more than the wall appears to be to plain eyes. Nymeria and the pack begin to dig at the bottom of the wall. I see there is a sort of an old stone door before us.
Although it appears the door has to be open a certain way. Benjen tells everyone to go back some and rest up so we can figure out the doorway out of here. Gendry carries Arya over to the strange doorway. I do wonder how all of this is built underneath and beyond the crypt of Winterfell. If I recall, the children of House Stark often played in the crypts. I wonder if they would remember any of this playing down in the Crypts as a child as would Benjen Stark.
My eyes go to Bran curious if he would know how to open it. I realize he is looking at something behind me. My eyes go to what he is staring at. I notice what appears to be a full moon shaped dial knob. Arya tells Gendry to carry her over there. He does so then gently puts her on her remaining good leg to stand before the full moon shaped dial knob. It appears that this moon shaped dial could open the doorway. I take a look with Arya. We believe this strange knob could be a combination of some kind to open the door.
Benjen comes over with Bran still in his arms, taking a look at the moon shaped knob. "How are we supposed to know how to figure out the combination?"
"Pull the moon forward then turn it to the right like the true phases of the moon then the opposite way, push it in after that." Bran says with a blank expression like he used his strange Three Eye Raven abilities to figure it out.
Arya places her hand on the full moon knob and does exactly as Bran said of the combination. I can hear a sort of cranking sound as she turns the knob to the right. When the knob is unable to move any further to the right, Arya turns it back to the left then pushes it inward. The moment that happens, the dead end splits down the middle slowly, becoming a large doorway.
My mouth barely opens in the shock to see what appears to be another tunnel but down at the end of the tunnel, we can see a set of stairs going upwards. I smile a little knowing we must be where the Winter Fox said this would lead. We must be just below the Wolfswood area.
"Seven Hells of a trick." A wildling man says when seeing all of this. The wildling man took the words right out of my mouth.
We do not waste another moment as everyone goes into this tunnel to the upward stairs. I look back at the stone doors to see it close on its own once the last child, woman and man walk through. The dial put have a sort of time set to be open before it closes on its own. I am not sure who made all of this. But whoever or whatever it was, I still remain grateful for it.
We all stop at the stair way. I tell my few remaining men that I will go first. I grab one of their torches. I hold the torch above my head to see how long the stairway appears to be. I slowly walk up to find a door over my head with a bar and the same built of the moon shaped dial knob. Bran Stark does not say anything to how it works which means it works the same way as the first one does. I place the torch on the ground then do exactly as Arya Stark did. The cranking noises happen again right after I press the moon dial in. The stone roof above me splits down the middle, opening the same as the previous door.
I close my eyes and have my head go down when a thick amount of snow falls on me from above. The howling winds echoes through the underground hall. I get off any amount of snow, feeling my face a bit wet from the melted snow on me and my armor. I see some steam coming from the torch I had put out by the snow falling from above. I climb out of it and see we are directly near the forest edge of the Wolfswood. The sight of Winterfell is a bit faded but enough to see the flames and smoke going to the skies.
My eyes go around seeing if those dead creatures are near but not a single track in the snow shows they are near here. I give a hand movement for my men to come forward with their torches since mine went out. I am handed another by Davos before I go up on the ground. There is still no sign of the dead. Davos comes up to take a look around also. Wr take a few more steps and know that we are in the clear.
"Come on." I whisper to them.
We all come out one at a time, walking the same pathway of the snow to covers how many escaped from Winterfell in case any of the dead start tracking us in any way they can. We remain in one line through the Wolfswood. I remember the Winter Fox was going to say where to go once we reach the woods but she never got to finish due to Arya refusing to leave.
I do hope that there will be something to help the wounded whenever we get there. I know the cold is not helping others. But some of the remaining Night's Watch and Freefolk tell us to keep moving to stay warm since they have always lived in these cold conditions compared to the rest of the North people. I lead the people with Sansa, Gendry carrying Arya and Benjen Stark carrying Bran Stark not far behind me.
The direwolf, Nymeria and her remaining pack remain outward to keep watch for anything heading our way. I do hope that they do not howl or start growling for anything heading this way. We would not survive if anything attacks us now.
We continue going that bits of my dark brown hair has ice over the top of it and my eyebrows. I recall some of the stories told about the Long Night. The fear of the long night when the snow would fall a hundred feet deep and the sun hiding as the snow storm takes over, covering the world in darkness. I have fear this Long Night will last longer than a generation. The stories of Kings freezing to death in their own castles same as shepherds in their huts.
Even the terrible stories of women smothering their babies rather than watching them starve with no food, no warmth. The tears of their weeping cries frozen on their cheeks and in that time of darkness, every corner of land was nearly snuffed out, wiped away. The Long Night is a sickness never to be treated until the Age of Heroes came to pass; the peace between the Children of the Forest and the world of Men to fight against the white walkers.
Now we are robbed of the heart of the North, wandering the wilderness brought low. Is this what our live will forever become or will Daenerys Targaryen be the reason we will feast and sing in honor of those who died so others could live? If Daenerys is to return, will she be the one the North could follow and call Queen of Westeros?
My eyes go to Sansa Stark because she is the one who said she is just like her father, The Mad King. Sansa told us the stories of her across the Narrow Sea, her brutality against her enemies but I do wonder what the crimes her enemies did to be judged such cruelty to death. I wonder if Sansa Stark even knows why.
Then again, Davos spent some time with Daenerys Targaryen as well as King Jon. Maybe he can give me some insight. I ask him to walk with me and he does so when I ask, "Davos, if Daenerys does come back and she rules Westeros, would you back her claim?"
Davos gives a sigh of deep thought in my question. His few moments of thinking felt like ages until he finally responds with, "Daenerys Targaryen is everything she says she is. She has done many terrible things from a position of strength. But she also has done great, impossible things. She freed thousands of slaves. Not because she had to do so but she wanted to. She gave the Unsullied a choice to follow or leave to pursue a life of their own after being tortured and trained into what they are when she first met them."
"They choose her because they believe in her, not because she was the daughter of some King they never knew. And these are words I was told by her lady, Missandei. And Daenerys stayed to free thousands and thousands of people even when she had the ability to come to Westeros before she became Queen of Meereen. And now with the risk of the Dothraki and Unsullied lives, her people dying for people who do not respect her for even coming all the way across the world to save us, she was not going to have her people die for nothing. I do not blame her for leaving. I wouldn't risk my people for this if I was Daenerys position. Would you do the same if you were in her place?"
I stare at this old man and despise to say how right he is in Daenerys leaving. We never showed her any gratitude or respect for her coming here to save the North after our King went to Dragonstone to bring her as an ally like he said he would. She came to the North in good faith but we did not show any good faith in return.
Sansa judges Daenerys because of who her father was but yet none of us truly know who Daenerys herself is. Daenerys spoke wise words to not judge the daughter for sins of the father nor for why she punished the owners of the slavers across the Narrow Sea.
Sansa watched as the hounds of Ramsey Bolton ate him alive and we all know full well the acts and crimes he did just like his father who drove the dagger into Robb Stark at the Red Wedding. That was a proper sentence and death to that man. What about the enemies of Daenerys Targaryen? I want to know if Sansa knows when I have a moment alone with her whenever we reach the safe haven.
"Yes, I would do the same as... Same as Queen Daenerys Targaryen." I truly acknowledge Daenerys for the Queen she is now.
Jon's POV
I hang on for dear life while the Winter Fox and I use our upper legs to hold up our bodies up a little like we are floating as the horse moves underneath us. I can feel the muscles of the horse bunch up the release with each stride due to being bareback on the horse, blowing through the thick snow like it is nothing. The hooves hit the ground in a hypnotic rhythm motion of her head while the Winter Fox holds onto the valyrian steel rope.
The Winter Fox encourages her horse to show the meaning of haste the deeper we go into the Wolfswood. The horse twitches an ear listening to every word she says when the ears are not laid back as she gallops faster than any horse I have ever rode or seen, especially carrying two people on their back.
The wind is blowing so hard that I can't see or hear very clearly now and my eyes are watering too much from the wind and snow. The long mane of the horse is licking at the face of the Winter Fox but does not bother her.
My body tries not to bounce bareback each time the hooves strike the ground and the more the horse travels, I feel myself out of breath because I am probably sucking in air like a bellows. This horse is made of pure muscle in the speed and love to run. It appears that there is no stopping this horse unless something attacks or at the request of the Winter Fox.
I continue to hang on for dear life that I did not realize the Winter Fox has her right gloved hand over mine that is around her waist the entire time we have been riding. I bury my face into the fox fur skin on her shoulders to get some warmth and proper breath back into me.
Finally when I feel like I can catch my breath, I notice we slowed down to a trot. I see we are further in the Wolfswood than I thought we were. "How long have we been riding?"
"We have ridden half a night, we rode fifty miles. We have another ten miles to go before catching up with the survivors." She tells me observing exactly where we are.
Then the Winter Fox is looking back at something. I begin to hear the sound of thundering hooves coming our way. My eyes turn to find the other Monsoon Fox and to my surprise, Tormund riding a horse shortly behind. I give a small smile in the relief that Tormund made it out alright. Monsoon Fox and Tormund ride up next to us.
Tormund pats me on the back for being alive and says, "My little crow! You made it out! I would expect nothing less!"
"If it was not for Rhaegal and the Winter Fox, I would be with the others or dead."
"Where is the Dragon now?" Tormund wonders while his eyes go above us looking for Rhaegal.
"Hopefully the full care he needs for his wounds." The Winter Fox answers.
Monsoon Fox asks in worry, "And the dead dragon, Viserion?"
"He is out of the sky for a while but still remains on the board."
"That is a good thing he cannot attack from the air now. However the Night King still has use for him. A dragon is dangerous on the ground." Monsoon Fox says in agreement.
The Winter Fox and I notice the wrapped wound on the Monsoon Fox. The Winter Fox asks with concern, "How is your wound?"
"It is a deep cut. I need to use my right arm to fight for now. When we get to the haven, I will need to stitch it up." The Monsoon Fox responds, holding his left arm a certain way so he does not use it fully while riding. The Winter Fox nods her head to her fellow fox.
We all ride on with the horses at a trot through the snow. I see that the horse's muzzle has snow icicles on it due to the freezing cold. Then my eyes go down to the gaping hole of the Winter Fox's armor from the Night King stabbing her with his ice spear. How is she not bleeding out or even alive?
"How did you do that?" I ask her.
"Do what?" She says looking back at me.
"I have never seen anyone move as fast as you and survive your wounds or even be alive and I notice how your eyes change color in an unnatural way."
She stops her horse to better look at me. "Please do not ask me any further on this. Trust that I will use all I have to fight in the Long Night and ensure the survival of the true House Stark bloodline. And when all of this is over, I will tell you every detail you want to know. You have my word; one warrior to another. And to be honest, I wasn't fast enough. I will next time."
I stare at the Winter Fox and she has not spoken a word about who I am to anyone. The least I can do is honor her request. I shake my head yes and whisper to her, "Aye."
We ride on when my eyes go to Tormund who stares at me wondering the same if we should trust the Winter Fox. But I remember what my Lord Commander Jeor said to me about Craster after I discovered what he was doing to his own baby boys, his own sons. And my own Lord Commander of the Night's Watch knew what was happening.
'Like it or not, we need men like Craster.'
I am in a similar position with the Winter Fox. Wither I like it or not, I need every man and woman we can get in the war of the Long Night. The Foxes of the Sunset Sea are needed. The White Walkers are the threat that needs to be dealt with. And the Foxes of the Sunset Sea can be dealt with afterwards if or when all of this is done.
The Winter Fox tells me to lean back for a moment. She unclips her thick black cloak then flips it over so it covers me like a blanket. I place my head on the backside of the Winter Fox in feeling some relief that I can feel my face against the soft, orange fox fur on her shoulders. I feel myself drifting as if I am about to fall asleep but I know I cannot fall asleep especially now. I need to be alert for anything to come. I am fighting hard to stay awake that my mind is going backwards and forwards.
Then my thoughts came to Daenerys in how she looked whenever I woke up to the sight of her in the same bed as me. The peace I felt to see her smiling when we are the last thing we saw before going to sleep and the first thing we saw when waking up in the morning in the days we traveled together. It seemed like it truly was just the two of us, nothing else mattered.
My last thoughts think of Daenerys kissing me, brushing her fingers across the beard each time we were wrapped up in each other, losing ourselves in one another. Daenerys on top of me, making love to me in a way I do not feel deserving of. I want it to be the way it was before all of this fucked up madness happened. I want that again...
Tormund's POV
I look over to see my little crow drifting asleep, closing his eyes. I reach my hand over to wake him up but the Winter Fox shakes her head no to me and whispers, "Let him get some sleep. He has hardly had any rest. If he doesn't get any shut eye, he will not be able to think straight. We will wake up in case of danger or shortly before we reach the others. We are not far from them now."
"How long will it take to get there?"
"Not half a night. We already covered over fifty miles from Winterfell to here." The Monsoon Fox says.
I look at this masked woman and man knowing they are mad people in the stories I heard. However that is why I admire them. I do wonder what stories they have to tell in their adventures. I ride my horse over to the Monsoon Fox.
I whisper to the masked man, "Any good tales to tell?"
"We always do. What do you want to hear?" The Monsoon Fox responds in joy that I asked.
"What are your best kills?"
"Oh, I have many."
"I want to hear them all." I say with a big grin.
The Monsoon Fox begins to tell a story of how a group of mercenaries tried to hunt them down while they were across the Narrow Sea. There were a total of twelve men and they allowed only one man to make it out so he could live to tell the tale, spreading more of their ghost stories around the world. The men were hired for a job but failed to deliver even when taking half of their pay. The Foxes gave them a chance to return the half pay but they spent it. The Foxes hunted down each man down, killing them one by one.
He describes how they hunt and killed them in order. And I take in every word like I draw my next breath. I can tell they kill like it is for sport just like hunting animals. Every once and a while, the Foxes get injured or their armor gets damaged. That is when they ensure it won't happen a second time, making them into better killers. No, they are not killers like everyone else.
They are something else entirely; they are like predators in the world of men. They do not fear pain, danger, defeat or danger. They only fear in what they hold in their hearts, their loved ones and future warriors to become Foxes of the Sunset Sea.
The Foxes of the Sunset Sea have been around for centuries, longer than the birth of mighty houses that stand in Westeros in this age. They linger in the shadows, watching on as fortunes of the world rise and fall while their ways remain and endure. I do want to question why they do not get into the wars however they do it so their land is not ran sacked like many places are when they are discovered or revealed to others.
We travel onward as I listen to the whispered stories of the Foxes to take my mind off of everything for a short time. I am amazed in the stories being told. However I keep focus on the surroundings so if Jon needs to be awaken swiftly, it can be done.
Then our horses come to a stop. The Monsoon Fox and Winter Fox speak in a language I never heard of before. I wonder what they are saying until they both point up ahead at the sign of a walked pathway. We urge the horses forward to see that it is a walking path to hide the numbers of those walking. I have to admit that it is smart for the survivors to do. The white walkers won't even know how many made it out alive.
We walk our horses onto the walking pathway to continue to hide the numbers. I ride in the middle so I can watch Jon right in front of me and the Monsoon Fox riding behind me. We notice that the snow storm dies down the further we are from that fallen castle.
I notice that the Monsoon Fox tosses a cloak to me. I catch it then flip the cloak over me then cover my backside to keep me warmer than I was before. I notice that the Winter Fox did the same thing to Little Crow earlier. It is almost like a mother or guardian affection toward Jon. It does make sense since the little crow is a bastard. The Foxes of the Sunset Sea take in bastards all across the world to become a Fox themselves.
I wonder if after all of this is done or they have to continue to flee, they will give Little Crow an offer to come with them and be a part of the Foxes of the Sunset Sea. Not many with pure blood lines get that offer. They consider the ones with no title, land or ranks to bring in. They never ask anyone with land, rank and title. I see they would only ask if they truly like a person of pure blood like Jon's sister, Arya.
We stop the horses when a noise is heard not far ahead. My eyes go around to the vast winter woods all around us until the Winter Fox points further ahead to the right whispering, "There..."
The surviving people are a few leagues ahead with only so few torches so they are not easy targets to spot. I see them walking behind one another to keep hiding their numbers in the one pathway which is smart. I exhale in relief to see some of my own Freefolk men, women and children helping some of the wounded. I let a small smile across my face to know they are enduring like we always do.
We ride on to catch up with them. I know the Foxes have a good plan for what is to happen next. And if they do not, I know Little Crow will have one. He always does because he keeps fighting and surviving. And now everyone has to survive the Long Night.
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