35

Chapter 35 – Before the Dusk (Interlude)

Three Months Later

The Wall, the North…

The Night's Watch were carefully lowering a man down on a harness from the top of the wall so that he might calculate how far the cracks that they had recently detected had spread. The volunteer was keen not to look down at the enormous drop beneath him. He as carefully as he could looked at the growing break in the surface of the Wall and took note of how far it had spread since they had last they had checked it. When he finished his sums he frowned in worry and gestured for the men to pull him up, waiting for him was the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch Jeor Mormont himself who gravely asked him.

"Has it expanded anymore?" The man that had dared to be winched down to check the wall nodded and told him gravely.

"Twice as much in the last fortnight. It will not be long before it reaches the very base of the Wall." The words made a lot of the black brothers mutter amongst themselves and Jeor was feeling increasingly worried as the Wall that he had sworn to defend appeared to be breaking before their very eyes after standing tall for eight thousand years. With the Wildlings on the other side of the wall they were not the concern that was on his mind through.

What really did worry Jeor was if the Wall did finally come down, the White Walkers would come in force against the living, even with the reinforcements he and the rest of the brothers had received due to the recent wars in the North and the Riverlands he knew that he would not have enough men to stop them so he was going to have to inform the rest of Westeros about the second coming of the Long Night and gain their support, a chore he knew would not be easy in the south but he could at least count on the North for support. So with a growing sense of foreboding, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, the 997th Commander of the Nights Watch took the lift down to Castle Black to begin preparations for the battle that he could feel in his bones was coming and to send letters to all the lords of Westeros and tell them…the Great War was about to begin again.

The Red Keep, Kings Landing…

Jon was sitting on the Iron Throne as he listened to the words of merchants and lords that were seeking his assistance over one matter or another. It was not very interesting as the merchant in front of him droned on and on about the glorious history of his house and what they would do if they had the endorsement and a loan from Jon to expand their holdings. It was not just the long winded way the man was describing it though that was making Jon and the rest of the court start to doze off but the but the tone of voice was so flat and emotionless that it was honestly the vocal equivalent of watching paint dry while draining warm milk in a cosy chair.

At his side the new Grandmaester Samwell Tarly was glad of a chair as he could not have stood for the entire time the merchant had been talking while trying his very best to look interested. He was still new to his position having only just finished his additional studies with the other castle maesters to get his chain and had expected to serve as a normal maester for the rest of his life only for Pycelle to die from a nasty fall which had snapped his neck. Some say an unpaid whore had pushed him but according to the 'official' report he had merely slipped and fallen due to his advanced age. Samwell honestly was scared stiff at the idea of sitting on the Small Council but he was glad to be at Jon's side, one of the few people that had seen worth in him and given Samwell the opportunity to find it. Now he was in a position of authority and he and Gilly lived in the palace where he could politely ignore his father's letters. He had nothing to say to that man and was glad to be rid of him.

To Jon's right meanwhile Tyrion Lannister too was glad of the chance to sit on a chair as he sipped his wine, his mind already having made its decision to advise Jon to give them the loan to the merchant as it would bring a number of new foodstuffs to the empire once winter had passed. He might have given them the money himself if it would get the man that was slowly boring the entire court to death to shut up Tyrion thought wondering if he could have the man's mouth forcibly closed before the king finally and much to the relief of everyone ended the proceedings before they all died of old age.

"Thank you Roland Fisher, I have been convinced that it is a worthwhile investment and I shall instruct the Master of Coin to make the loan available to you later this evening. I shall be retiring for the rest of the day." Jon said quickly to the merchant and got to his feet to leave the room. Ser Barristan Selmy and Obara Sand at his side, Jon followed closely by Tyrion and Samwell left the throne room and walked through the passages of the Red Keep until they reached the royal apartments. Once there and free of any witnesses they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank the gods, I honestly thought we would be there forever." Obara said with anger in her eyes. "I was about ready to run him through with my spear."

"Lady Obara while I admit that the man was almost certainly the dullest person imaginable I think it best not to kill him. It would stain the floor to say nothing of what it the people would think of their king just killing anyone that bored him. Right now thanks to his own actions and the charity of Queen Margaery he is far more popular with the commonfolk than the last five or so kings to sit on the Iron Throne." Tyrion said with his careful and considered tone. Jon nodded to the man in agreement, not wanting to emulate his grandfather or any of the other three kings that had followed him. He wanted peace and stability across the Westerosi Empire after the chaos of the last few years, not absolute power to do what he wanted. He would be quite content to be judged a boring king if his realm was prosperous and peaceful. However he was not going to stay with his current escort for too long as he came to his and Margaery's private rooms which had enough guards to defend a tower stationed around it and said.

"Excuse me my friends, I intend to spend some time with my wife." Jon said and with a quick nod he parted the door and it swung shut behind him. The sight of Margaery sitting at the window looking out across the city with her dress only just beginning to show the swell of her belly and their babe inside her. She looked away from the view of the city and smiled at the sight of her husband who smiled back likewise before coming over to sit beside her and kiss her hand as if she were made of crystal.

Both were happy, beyond joy as their child got bigger and the future seemed so bright and full of promise. The ravens with the warnings of Jeor Mormont would not arrive until the following day and for the moment everything seemed so perfect that nothing could go wrong. The wars they had thought over were only a prelude to the Great War that was about to begin once the Long Night came a second time, something that would ensure Jon's reign would be remembered. Later the following day as Jon organised men for a sailing up to the North and sent letters to other kingdoms so they would do the same he felt fear unlike any he ever had before. The image of Margaery with their son inside her haunted him as the Night King like a creature out of Old Nan's tales stood over them while they slept, as a king for him the stakes were high.

But as a father with a wife and child to protect though, it somehow increased the load on him immeasurably as he prepared to fly north and join the fight.

Casterly Rock, the Westerlands…

The home of House Lannister was just going about its ordinary business, unaware for the moment of the events that were transpiring in the North. Hadrian was smiling as he sparred with his sons; Tyler and Richard. Both boys had improved since the last time they had done this together and were fast on their way to being expert swordsmen. A point that was proved moments later as Tyler and Richard worked together, tried to flank him with a series of fast jabs and swipes. Hadrian merely grinned as he used his two wooden sparring swords to deflect their attacks away while keeping them all constantly moving until he could end the fight on his terms. The boys followed, not yet realising the trap they were falling into, proving that while their skill was growing they still had much to learn about thinking ahead.

Leading them over to a cart of hay Hadrian, never one to pull punches when training someone kicked out at Tyler who stumbled back to avoid it only for him to trip over the loose hay and fall to the ground receiving a quick tap from his father's wooden sword signalling his defeat. Tyler groaned in annoyance while Richard found himself now confronted with facing his father alone.

Richard was sweating profusely as his father than began to launch a barrage of quick strikes that never seemed to end. His muscles ached as he struggled to keep up with his father's experienced and focused attacks and was only a hairbreadth away from falling when his father suddenly changed tactics and did a sweeping kick that sent Richard clean off of his feet. Hitting the ground he could only moan at the ache in his back and legs while his father stood over him and with a wide smirk tapped the tip of his wooden sword against Richard's chest.

"You both have good reflexes and technique." Hadrian said to both of his son's to encourage them. Tyler was slowly moving towards them from the hay cart as Hadrian helped Richard up before Hadrian added. "But a fight is not just about the technique, you have to plan out the fight in your head change your style of attack so you can catch your enemy off-guard. Learn to use your environment to the maximum advantage, like a game of cyvasse you stand a far better chance of victory if you can outthink your opponent as opposed to facing them head on without thinking. That is a certain way to get yourself killed." Hadrian told his son's while smiling at them, amused by their frowns and hoping they would at least get the point of the lesson.

-x-

Outside the castle walls meanwhile, the girls of Casterly Rock were watching the dragons of their stepmother as they swooped in the air while a pile of meat was laid out for them. Shaena smiled at her stepdaughters and both of her goddaughters Arya and Shireen who had joined them. The girls had not known what to make of the woman that had suddenly appeared in thick of their lives and had avoided her at first but her boundless energy and eagerness to enjoy life had worn them down into accepting her. The dragons of course fascinating them too, certainly more than the boring man that was reporting on the progress of the demolition of Harrenhall.

"The curtain walls of the castle are still in remarkably good condition despite the lack of restoration work done on them until this point. So the overseer decided to leave them as a defence for the town on the inside. The gatehouses have been repaired and the towers are slowly being demolished with the rest of the buildings. Once that is complete work on the new housing, streets and a smaller keep will begin in earnest. The Valyrian settlers are rather pleased at the chance to build the town in the traditional style." The man said, referring to the Valyrian sellswords that had come over with Asher Forrester to fight in the Northern Civil War. They and their families had been only too happy to lend a hand with the demolition of the oversized castle in the Riverlands for a chance to settle there and build a brand new town of their own.

"Good." Shaena said absentmindedly as Terrax came up to her and she smiled while carefully stroking his large nose which made the dragon swing his tail much like a dog in enjoyment. "We have just made armour for you, yes we have." Shaena said with a smile like that of a mother. "For you and Sheepstealer to keep you safe." The dragons looked at their mother adoringly although they hated the armour that had been made for them. It was uncomfortable and made them fly slower but for their mother they would do anything.

-x-

Later that evening, the letter from Castle Black arrived and Hadrian was sitting in his solar completely silent as the full impact of what was coming hit him like a shot from one of his new cannons. He might have prepared for this moment, even realised at the back of his mind that it might come within his lifetime this was confirmation that his worst fear was coming true. The Wall was coming down and with it the coming of the Second Long Night and the invasion of the White Walkers.

Putting the letter down he turned to the reports Qyburn had sent him, needing to know now more than ever before if the new weapons were ready because if the Wall was cracking as quickly as Jeor Mormont said it was they might have a week or two at most. The new bombs were finally ready with the modifications he had ordered to be effective against the Walkers and their Wights, the flamethrowers and dragonglass spears, daggers and arrow heads had been constructed or shaped and would as soon as he could send the letter be making their way to Lannisport along with fresh stockpiles of rockets, food and oil. Despite the threat he was leaving forty thousand men at home and taking only thirty thousand with him north once the weapons and supplies had arrived. He needed to make sure that if they failed to contain the Walkers in the North then they would have enough men behind to defend the south and specifically the Westerlands if it came to that. Fresh supplies of oil, food and dragonglass would be stockpiled while more rockets and bombs were prepared, with this particular enemy Hadrian was taking no chances having seen these creatures first hand and fought them.

He was broken from his planning for the worst case scenario when someone started knocking on the door. He looked up to see his new wife appear once the door had opened. Shaena immediately saw the expression on his face and he silently passed her the letter from the Wall. Her eyes moved quickly over the carefully written script and her expression went from impassive to worried in the blink of an eye. Without hesitation Hadrian took the Resurrection Stone off his finger and turned it over in his hand three times.

Sirius appeared in the guise of Bran the Builder again, however they could tell that he was aware of the reason he had been summoned by the worried expression. Hadrian did not waste time since he was clearly up to speed already and asked the question he needed to know.

"Is it possible to repair the wall? If we can undo the damage then fighting off the Walkers will be a lot easier." Hadrian asked and Sirius shook his head sadly.

"No, not this time. The magic that sustains it has been eroding for centuries and the power of the Night King is now too great. Any quick fixes you could put in place would last only a week maybe two and one determined attack by the Night King could tear than down easily. The only real answer would be to tear the Wall down and rebuild it but that clearly is not an option." Sirius said his eyes heavy with regret and worry for his godson. He wished he had a solution that would save them from having to fight the White Walkers or be there to fight at his side but this was one battle he could not help them with. They knew the stakes and how to fight, the rest was up to them but he had one last piece of advice that might help. "Information is key in any battle, the lords of Westeros need to know how to fight the walkers. So far only the North really knows how so if more people learn the better chance they have." His form simmered away, leaving Hadrian and Shaena alone lost in their thoughts.

"How are the gauntlets coming along?" Hadrian asked, finally breaking the silence. Shaena looked up and told him, her voice strangely flat, not filled with her usual energy and excitement.

"Thirteen pairs so far, the stone might have gotten us the secret to Valyrian steel but making anything larger than a gauntlet is difficult as you know, making weapons on mass is just impossible for now. I only wish that we had more time to get the technique down." She said grimly, deadly serious for once. The Resurrection Stone had gotten them a meeting with a Valyrian smith who told them the technique to make Valyrian steel but it was very labour intensive and draining on the magic user who had to layer spell after spell while the metal was folded again and again while fusing it with dragonglass and several other special ingredients and the bigger the object was the harder it became to enchant. So far they had only really managed to achieve it properly with small objects like gauntlets and daggers, yesterday they had achieved a basic and plain short sword but that was it. Her husband nodded having worked with her he knew how complex and draining those particular spells were. It would take years to get proficient at it so they could make the steel in the same time it took to make a regular sword.

"Combined with the Valyrian fire stones we got from the Red Priests now they have been purified they will have to be enough. A dragon's flame will I hope give them the power to be useful." Hadrian said having infused the gems with dragon fire. Now each has a small dragon fire burning at its heart.

The magic of the dragon's flame should make Valyrian steel more effective against magical foes and lend strength to the wearer as well as keep them warm while the Walkers' storm whipped around them. "I will send a letter to all of the other lords to tell them the best ways to fight walkers and their wights. Hopefully that will make some difference." He was unsure if it would make any impact at all but they had to try. He would tell them of the weaknesses that could be exploited, any tactics that might help and whatever else might be useful.

-x-

Later as he prepared his armour and furs while Shaena did the same, his children said nothing knowing full well what was at stake having seen the threat in the North for themselves. Hadrian knelt and hugged his children tightly knowing full well this could be the last time they saw each other in this world. And finally taking ships north with Terrax and Sheepstealer wearing their runic armour and flying high in the sky overhead.

From the docks Hadrian's children said nothing, all they could do was hope and pray that the gods might help their father now.

Evenfall Hall, the Stormlands…

Brienne of Tarth was not comfortable as she entered the fifth month of her pregnancy, the letter from the Wall clutched in her hands as she reread the lines again and again. News of the immediate collapse of the Wall and the coming of the White Walkers, creatures that she had dismissed as mere fairy tales to frighten naughty children but now she could not help but feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

Her father had agreed to send a portion of their men north when he had received the king's summons but not their entire army, thinking it a fool's errant although was loyal to his king. Tormund had been silent since the letter arrived, he was in two minds about what to do; go with the men and defend his people or stay here in case they failed so he could protect both her and their child. He might have taken the name Tarth when they had quickly married and even created the title of 'Giantsbane' as the greatest warrior of their house but he remained firmly his own man and when they slept at night she knew he was staying awake most the night wondering if he should be there fighting.

A question that she asked herself only for a kick of her baby to remind her why she had stayed here when the men had left.

The Great Weirwood, the North…

The Three Eyed Raven was sombre as he felt the finally collapse of the Wall begin, the Great War against the Long Night was about to begin again. The Living against the Dead and Cursed, a battle that would determine the fate of the very world itself. One that he was sure that he had a role to play in…just not the one he had imagined he thought with a cough, moving his hand away to see blood there.

His work on the wards to protect the tree and the Wildling settlement nearby had taken a lot of his energy not to mention all of his probing into the past. It had pushed his old body passed its breaking point it appeared the Raven thought sadly. But he had lived too long already, in many of the alternate timelines he had probed he had not lived to this point anyway so it was perhaps time for his time in this world too end he decided grimly but with a slight bit of hope he would be able to help later when the time was right.

So with his decision firmly made; the Three Eyed Raven otherwise known as Lord Bloodraven, Master of Whispers, Hand of the King or merely just Ser Brynden Rivers summoned all of his remaining energy and the enlightenment gained from decades as a greenseer and released himself of his earthly bonds. The light was slow to form at first, only appearing as a slight glow in his chest but it began to gather strength until it was so large and so blindingly bright that it had engulfed Brynden's entire body and it gave one final immense pulse the Three Eyed Raven disappeared, vanishing into a place that no mortal would ever see. He was no longer on that plane of existence but it did not mean that he would not be able to help his protégé later.

Beyond the Wall…

The corpses of wights littered the ground as a man wrapped in rough furs fought a White Walker, armed only with a long sword and his wits. A Mormont of Bear Island the man fought with all the might and ferocity of years of combat and the wildness of his true nature. The Walker was caught off guard by the fact that his ice sword could not shatter the long sword that the man was using and the surprise of how furiously the man fought allowed the Mormont man to gain the upper hand in their fight.

Nearby a woman dressed in Red silks and dyed furs was holding off the remaining wights with a wall of flame that incinerated them on contact. The woman's face was screwed up in concentration and sweat had drenched her face despite the cold. Her crimson hair was loose in the wind and blowing in her face which did not help her concentration at all but fortunately the man who she was fighting alongside managed to knock the White Walker's sword from his hand and slash into his chest, reducing the creature to ice crystals. With the destruction of their master, the remaining wights suddenly fell like puppets with their strings cut who Kinvara quickly burned with her magic to prevent them being used by the Night King again.

Both humans panted in rapid breaths, exhausted from the struggle but uninjured so they said nothing as the pair turned and retreated to the cave where they had taken shelter. It was no castle but it shielded them from the biting wind and a warm fire kept them alive as they slept. Kinvara was quick to throw some fresh kindling onto the fire to keep it going while Jorah Mormont warmed his hands before taking a scrap of cloth to clean his sword of the smudges left upon its blade when he had been fighting the wights. The horses were grateful of the fire and enjoyed the food that they had purchased before sailing beyond the Wall.

"This cannot go on." Jorah said as he looked up at the woman that had brought him back to life, he knew that this fact should bother him but strangely it did not. He had begun to wonder if he had come back properly or if she had done something to him when she had resurrected him. He knew he had lost something but he did not know what.

He stopped cleaning his blade as he waited for her to respond, wanting to ask her about his thoughts about what had happened to him but not having the drive to do it…something else he thought might be down to her. "All we are doing is picking off the odd Walker that is stupid enough to wander off from their main army and with each day that passes they get closer to the Wall. We should ride to Castle Black and warn them, it is there that they are going to converge. Where the break in the Wall will finally appear." Ser Jorah said worried for his father who was sure to be there and squarely in the sights of the Walkers.

"Perhaps we could, but would we really make a difference in what will happen? The Wall is going to come down and the first battle of the Great War will be fought there. The outcome is certain, how could we make a single difference?" She asked him, amused at his idea that they might actually be able to help. The vast army of the dead with their ice demon masters would win, it was a total certainty that the Night Watch was going to lose.

"The more preparation they have the more chance they have of survival and to inflict more damage on the Walkers." Jorah said his female companion, eager to go and perhaps save his father from the Walkers. He might have been banished and dishonoured his entire house but he did not want his father who had once been his idol and all of his aunt's daughters to perish in the cold that the Walkers would bring.

Kinvara was silent for a moment, thinking herself on their current situation. Her visions had led her here beyond the Wall with her new companion to hunt down and kill as many Walkers as possible before the Great War could begin but she had to admit it was hard to pick individual walkers off from the main body of the Night King's army. If the Night's Watch could inflict significant damage on the number of wights the war against the walkers would be easier for the living. It might be a worthy sacrifice she thought and slowly started eating her food. Not much just salted meat and a few biscuits but it was all they had left, another reason perhaps to go to the Wall.

With the weight of their mission upon them, Kinvara nodded and said to her companion.

"We will ride for the Wall as soon as we can. The horses should ensure we get there before the Night King."

Jorah merely nodded, his northern stoicism making sure that he did not act on the relief and anticipation that was now welling up inside him.

Castle Black, the Wall…

The cracks seemed to grow even faster as the winter snowstorm gathered in the distance, the time was fast approaching when the first battle of the Great War would be fought.