The Crippled Wolf-Stark SI: Ch.88

Chapter 88

JON STARK

They had ridden to the Wall in pure horror. Jon had feared absolute carnage, yet the castle seemed fairly calm and quiet as his horse rode through the walls, and he asked the guards for a chance to meet with his uncle.

The men seemed tired and afraid, and horrified. But not hopeless.

In the end, he was led to the top of the fortress, where his nuncle stood gazing down at a field of broken and unmoving bones, fitted with little rotting flesh as the Sun began to tear through the clouds and burn the un-dead’s flesh and bones.

“Was this it? Is this the end?” he asked, with a frown and it was the blonde wildling who scoffed at his words.

“If only it were so simple,” Val added, as she stared down at the pile of bones and flesh.

“This is just the beginning,” she finished as she looked him in the eye, as his uncle added from the side as they walked along the edge.

“She is right,” Benjen Stark began in a tired and old voice which was quite unusual for a man like him.

“This is just the start. I believe that this was a surprise attack aimed at gauging our preparedness and weaknesses,” and that seemed far cunning for an army of the dead.

“But aren’t they dead,” he asked, and it was the blonde Princess who scoffed again.

“These were but whites. These were foot soldiers. Minions worth nothing,” she added, as Jon’s face shifted.

“It is the White Walkers that you must fear. The one’s who are just as dead as them but alive by the will of their King,” and she glanced into the distance.

“The Night King, they call him,” she whispered as they stopped and stared at the hidden lands beyond the North, and the cover of snow and fog was such that they could see little beyond the Wall, as Val told them about their enemies true nature.

And the name seemed familiar to him, as those eyes narrowed.

“Yet you already know that, how?” she asked looking at Lord Benjen who raised a brow.

“It was the King who told me of this,” his uncle answered.

“Though I don’t think he was the one to tell it to you,” and she nodded.

“We were told of this by the Children of the Forest and the Three Eyed Raven,” and he wondered just who was that, and how they knew so much.

“Still, if he has attacked the wall then it means that he is making preparations for the final battle,” his uncle finished as they stopped walking, and faced one another.

“We must do the same as well,” he announced.

“I have sent Mance to guide his men to the Wall, so that they may take up their positions along the fortresses as per the accord,” and that must be why, Mance had left with Ygritte in a hurry.

“We will need to open the gates to let them in,” and it was Val who cut in solemnly.

“He will attack right then again,” she added, as his uncle’s expression shifted.

“He knows that he cannot overcome the Wall, that he must break through the gates if he is to win this war and so he will wait until you open the gates for the wildling, and then he will come down upon you with his army,” and there was a simpler and cruel solution to their dilemma.

They could simply never open those gates. But doing so would mean condemning about a hundred thousand souls to the absolute Winter.

None there suggested this, as his uncle rubbed his hands, as the chill made his skin turn blue.

“He knows the land now, knows your defences,” and so the burden now fell to the Lord Commander.

“If a White Wlaker is able to come beyond the Wall, it could mean the end of all humanity,” his uncle whispered.

“So, we cannot let them come to us,” and with that he turned towards the open field.

“We have no choice but to fight them out there,” and that was but suicide.

“They will come upon you as a swarm. An unending and undying swarm that will swallow your men,” Val whispered in a shaky breath.

“Aye, then let it swallow us. But we shall fight that swarm to the last man. We shall give you and your people as much time as we can, for that is the accord between us,” and so the battle strategy was decided.

“The North will be gathering its men within hours,” Jon added for he had seen Yoren riding to Last Heareth, and he was certain that his uncle must have sent a crow to Winterfell as well.

“The King’s army is already on its way,” his uncle added.

“But we do not have the time to wait for them. I will gather a host of ten thousand men. Damned and Fearless men who shall fight to their last breath to buy you as much time as they can, but know this Princess,” his uncle began.

“Those gates shall remain open till the last of those men draws his breath. When the last of my crows die, those gates shall close for we must protect the realm at all costs,” and he saw her lips thin yet she offered no retort.

“That is fair,” she agreed.

“But know this Crow, that you shall not fight alone….”

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ROBB STARK

Robb had never seen such fear on his brother’s face. He had known his brother for all his life, and even in the face of war and undead army coming for their heads, his brother had stood defiant and confidant yet now with a blade held to his wife’s neck, and his children  behind the sword and shield of the Kingsguard, he saw fear in those grey lifeless eyes.

“So, everyone’s finally here,” Euron Greyjoy’s voice cut through the silence as he saw Daenerys pale as a gasp escaped her lips.

“No,” and she saw her legs weaken, as she saw Euron Greyjoy laughing.

“How have you been Princess?” he asked, as he pulled the blade closer to the Queen’s neck.

“You traitor!” the man beside Euron screamed at Daenerys, as he brandished his sword like a mad man. His hair had were white with hints of Red in their roots, as he screamed at the Princess.

“You betrayed us,” and he wondered just who this man was.

“You killed him! And now I shall have my revenge!” and before he could step forward, the God’s eye stopped him, as he put a hand on his shoulder.

“Why the rush, Griff! We have time, we have all the time,” and just then a Kingsguard moved took a step forward, yet that blue eye narrowed in an instant.

“AGHHH!” and he stilled as he saw Myrcella scream, as a blood dripped down her neck.

“STOP!” Cregan scramed, as the Whitecloak halted in his steps, as Euron spoke menacingly.

“I warned you,” and Robb saw his brother’s fists ball up, as blood dripped down their Queen’s neck.

“Any of you move,” Euron repeated, his blue lips parting as a tear slipped down Myrcella’s face.

“She dies,” and the threat hung in the air, as his brother raised his hands as his Kingsguard all lowered their blades, as Euron smiled wildly.

“I have always wanted to meet the fabled Crippled Wolf. The boy who made himself King through nothing but sheer will,” and he laughed as he looked at his brother.

“A strange man you are. Crippled in one leg. You have fought but one war, yet have won nearly a dozen of them,” and he laughed.

“I had thought that you would be some kind of a monster, yet I must say that I am quite disappointed. You are not the Crone come again. No, you are but a scared little boy playing at a game you hardly understand,” and it was his friend, Griff as he had called.

“Just be done with this! You promised me revenge Greyjoy!” the man with hints of red in his hair screamed as Greyjoy nodded.

“Yes, I did,” and then those eyes turned towards Daenerys as Robb found himself putting his body in front of her, his hand resting on his blade as Euron smiled wildly.

“But why settle for a lamb when you can slay the dragon,” and then his eyes turned towards their King.

“Most people in my position offer but two choices. I shall give you three,” and with that he pulled in Myrcella closer, as she grunted and fought.

“Your wife,” he said smiling as their Queen’s trembled in pain and fear.

“Your word,” he whispered as he turned towards Daenerys who was in shock, before his eyes turned towards his brother again.

“Or yourself,” and it was Myrcella who gasped.

“No,” she whispered, and Robb finally understood who the other man was, for he remembered his brother mentioning an accomplice of Varys, one who had been a pawn in this great game.

“Jon Connington,” he whispered, as those brown eyes turned towards him.

“What are you doing Euron! You promise me revenge!” he screamed.

“And I intend to deliver it,” Euron cackled.

“But I also wish to become the man who brought down the mighty Cregan the Crone,” and he laughed.

“So, choose quickly Stark,” he added, as he pulled the knife closer as the Queen screamed in pain.

“Crega...” but he held her throat and muffled her scream.

“Or I shall choose for you,” and just then he noticed, a hand appear on the balcony, behind them as Cregan opened his mouth.

“You were supposed to be dead,” he whispered, and Euron smiled.

“Wouldn’t that have suited you. But it seems like you are not the only one blessed by the Gods, Stark,” and his tongue was blue as well, just like his lips, as he saw a face now push itself up cautiously, as it made a gesture of silence towards him.

“You will pay for this,” his brother warned.

“If you harm her, I shall make your lives a living hell. I will make it so that you will live to a hundred, while begging for the mercy of death,” and Euron’s smile vanished.

“We will see about that,” and with that he screamed.

“CHOOSE!” he ordered, and he recognized the man to be Thoros, as his brother opened his mouth.

“Guards,” he began, as he ordered without moving his gaze from Euron and his wife.

“Arrest Princess Daenerys,” and Robb’s heart sunk, as the Kingsguard grabbed Daeneyrs by the arms.

“NO! LET ME GO! YOU PROMISED!” and Robb saw her look towards him.

“Please! I beg…” and his body moved in an instant, as he put himself in front of the guards, and stopped them.

“I expected nothing less,” but even Euron was taken aback by his words.

“What are you doing, Robb?” Cregan’s menacing voice tore through the room.

“You gave her your word, brother,” and the two of them exchanged glances, as Euron laughed in amusement.

“Now what do we have here?” he awas amused, and that was the ploy as Daenerys screamed.

“Brother against Brother. Stark against Stark,” he laughed in amusement, as Cregan turned raised his blade towards him.

“Get out of the way,” Robb, but the words were not truly meant for him. No, they were meant for someone else as Thoros of Myr slowly walked behind Euron, as he saw the red ruby on his brother’s blade grow ominously while the fire in the fire place raged as his brother.

“I cannot do that,” Robb answered, playing the game as his brother’s eyes shifted as he saw his skin flush, as it began to smoke as if it had set alight.

“Get out of the way. NOW!” and they moved in unison, and his brother like a blur, as Connington finally saw the man behind them with the dagger.

“BEHIND YOU!” he screamed, but his brother was there infront of Greyjoy who whispered as he swung his blade.

“Die…”

GOUGH

And blood and bodies fell to the floor, as screams tore through the ancient seat of House Targaryen.

“NOOOOOO…..!”

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