Winter Is Our Fury

Chapter Eighty Six: Death

The Night King bursted into ice and his White Walker generals followed suit. The wights began to drop like a wave from the Godswood flooding out into Winterfell.

Viserion fell dead.

The Wights that flooded Winterfell, dead. The wights surrounding Jorah and Daenerys fell dead, and Jorah was finally able to rest. Daenerys cried over his body. Drogon gently landed beside his mother feeling her pain and rested with her.

The Wights pilled on top of Aris suddenly dropped and their weight became to heavy for her to hold up. She looked at the corpses horrified and confused. She pushed them aside and rose to her feet looking around wondering what happened.

Did this mean they won?

Those hiding emerged with the same baffled confusion. Kaytlyn's cries filled the silence and Aris hurried to her baby. She took the crying child trying to sooth her. Randyl stood in the mists of those that were dead and had been killed, one of them being a friend.

The Red Woman emerged from hiding in the hall with Clegane and she simply walked through the masses of dead bodies outside of Winterfell with the sun rising on the horizon. Davos watched curiously. As she walked she removed the necklace around her neck and dropped it. Davos watched her body writhle and age, her red hair turning white, her stride turned in stumbles, and her body dropped into dust.

When Aris emerged from the crypts she stood in the middle of Winterfell in ruins with a crying baby. The stench of death was on the morning sun that only began to rise. Her home was destroyed yet again. Mountains of bodies piled as high as the walls. The smell of rotting corpses filled her nose.

Had they really won?

"Shh." she rocked her crying baby. She wanted to cry too. All these people sacrificed their lives. It was unlike The Red Wedding or Battle of the Bastards. This was the Great War, and it wasn't over yet.

"We need to check on Bran." Sansa said urgently and picked up her dress. Aris followed suit, stepping over bodies of Wights and Northerns.

It was like taking a stroll through the seven layers of hell. The further they went the worse it became. The last being a dead dragon slumped in the path to the Godswood. It's wings outstretched, it's jaw broken and sideways. Viserion laid in the melted stone ruins of Winterfell, his blue flames still burning.

Randyl approached the dead dragon and pressed his palm to Viserion. "That makes three." he said sadly, wishing Viserion was alive to be touched.

The three circled around Viserion's giant body and slipped under his wing into the Godswood. This was the final layer of hell. Around them in a circular formation where Wights, and in they're path was Theon impaled by his own weapon.

Sansa cried out and fell to her knees at Theon's side. Tears streamed down her face as she clutched his dead form. But, there was Bran sitting under the red oak tree, untouched and safe. With him was Arya and Jon. No words were needed to be said. They suffered a great tragedy, a great loss. All they needed to see was each other alive and well.

"How...?" Aris murmured approaching her family.

"It was Arya." announced Bran. "She stopped the Night King."

Jon's eyes perked up. He was the one that should have stopped the Night King. He was so proud of Arya, but jealous. She did something he failed to do, protect Bran and stop the army of the dead.

But Arya wasn't boasting about her legendary kill. She remained silent.

They survived The Long Night. But there was one more person Aris needed to make sure was alive.

Gendry climbed down from the pile of bodies he was on top of, his entire body shaking and tired. He shared the same confusion as everyone else. When it all became to much and overwhelming and when it seemed like the end, it just all stopped. Was he really alive or dead.

Sam was crying on Gilly's shoulder. Jaime, Brienne and Podrick stood around unsure of what to do with themselves, mostly just glad to be alive. Tormund and most of his Wilding companions survived. The Hound stood in utter shock.

Gendry could see the women and children and elderly that were hiding in the crypts silently search Winterfell for their loved ones. Some finding them dead and others rejoiced when they were found alive. He was waiting for his reunion but he never saw Aris, or Sansa or Randyl. Only Tyrion, Varys and Missandei who went in search of their queen outside the walls.

He swallowed heavily fearing the worst. So he went in search of Aris.

He forced his aching legs to stumble through the graveyard that was now Winterfell. He disregarded his hammer. He searched every face that he passed by. "Aris!" he called for her. He used the top of his shirt to wipe away some of the blood and sweat from his face. He came the crypt doors and shouted her name, his voice echoed into the tombs below, but he got no response.

Gendry stood in the middle of the courtyard wondering where she was. With every second that passed he grew more anxious. His legs finally gave in and he collapsed onto his backside relieved to finally sit down and rest.

Footsteps splashed in the mud and then came her voice. "Gendry?" she found him sitting in the middle of everything. He snapped his neck back. Aris hurried to him clutching a whimpering baby and she fell to her knees at his side and they embraced each other tightly, with Kaytlyn cosy between them. Aris rested her head on his shoulder not caring what he smelt like. Seeing him alive was the greatest feeling she could have; and she started to cry.

Gendry closed his eyes burying his face in her hair taking in her scent. He rubbed her back as sobs racked her body. They sat there on the ground holding each other.

"It was horrible." she said between sobs. "They started coming out of the tombs... my little brother Rickon... I had to kill him again..."

"We're alright now." was all he could say. "...Do you know why they stopped?"

"It was Arya."

➵

It took days to recover and clear the bodies. Drogon and Rheagal had to lift their brothers corpse from Winterfell and fly him miles away.

It took days to build hundreds of pyre for the dead. There was immense casualties. Not even half survived.

Daenerys said her farewells to Jorah Mormont. Sansa said her farewells to Theon Greyjoy and she slip a Stark pin onto his armour.

Daenerys returned to stand by her council and Sansa returned to stand by family.

Jon came forward and spoke.

"We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers and mothers. To our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences... to fight together... and die together, so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and honour to keep them alive in memory. For those who come after us, and those who come after them. For as long as men draw breath... They we're the shields that guarded the realms of men, and we shall never see they're light again."

Jon was handed a torch and more were passed out to Sansa, Aris, Arya, Daenerys, Tormund, Greyworm, Sam. They came forward and set alight a pyre.

Massive amounts of smoke began to rise and form a misty have over the North. The smell of burning corpses filled the noses of everyone who stood by to pay their respects to the dead.

The next plan was to move to the South and retake the Iron Throne.