Game of Dragonborn.

Chapter 138 - Last Hearth 02.

[Chapter Size: 2500 Words.]

Third Person POV.
North.

...

...

From where he stood, mounted on his horse with other members of his company, Jon saw a group approaching, led by Mors Umber — an elderly man with a great white beard, taller than the average man, which was not uncommon for a man of Umber blood.

He stopped, scrutinizing Jon with narrowed eyes as if searching for someone among the small group.
"Where is Ederk Umber? I heard that traitor left the castle seeking refuge," he said, spitting on the ground.

"I imprisoned him," Jon said. "And now he's in a cell at the camp."

"You imprisoned him? Well, that's what happens when you try to trust wildlings," he uttered, as Jon raised an eyebrow.

"So you wanted me to accept his proposal to usurp Ned Umber? Is that what you wanted? Which would've been much easier for me, despite never trusting a man like that. Is that what you're telling me, Mors Umber? I didn't think the Umbers were so foolish and irrational as to want us to help their blood traitors," Jon spoke calmly, but with a deeply disapproving look.

He knew these meetings were made for insults and provocations, but Jon was certainly not that kind of man. He was only there to demand the castle — whether they wanted it or not. If they didn't, that was another story. They would settle that with their weapons.

Mors didn't know what to say in that moment after Jon's words, and ended up falling silent, changing the subject.
"Your dragon isn't here. I heard about that. What happened at the Dreadfort? Well, you certainly scared the North, but you won't scare the Umber family. I know our castle is important and I don't think you're just going to destroy us."

"That's true. As long as the noble family never gives me a reason to do so, everything will be fine. But remember: it's just a castle. A pile of stones can be rebuilt later. So don't push your luck," Jon replied.
"And what are you going to do, then? Stay behind your walls?"

"Obviously," the man replied firmly. "We will not yield Last Hearth to you, wildling. We'll hold the castle. I see you have a large number of men, but we can withstand your siege and wait for reinforcements from the south."

"You think Stannis can just come here easily? Only if he simply decides to sail in, while also having to face 180 thousand free folk. And getting here won't be easy — not through the North itself. Since they'll have the Boltons on their trail," Jon said.

The man seemed a bit uncertain at that moment.
"We won't yield the castle to you nor to your dead wildlings."
In any case, he declared it.

The free folk beside Jon began to boo and growl.

"Very well," Jon replied. "Just hope your gate is well reinforced. Let's begin."
With that, he turned his horse, his companions following him.

"..." The Umber men stared for a moment, then left as well.

"I want only 10,000 men with me," Jon demanded, as they organized the troops that would advance.

He calmly watched the castle as he saw his men begin to gather. The wall was filled with archers preparing for battle.

He saw Ygritte beside him.
"Hey, big one, how about you take down some of those men? After all, many eyes are up on that wall," Jon asked his wife, who felt he was speaking to her.

She was well-armed, looked like a valkyrie in her armor, and wielded a bow engraved with enchanted runes that Jon had placed on it. He didn't really know the limits a bow should have.