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LAST HEARTH -
The gates of the Last Hearth were open, its stones crusted with frost and banners of House Umber and House Stark stiff in the wind. Snow drifted thick upon the yard as the battered rangers of the Watch stumbled through the open gate, their faces pale and hollow, breath coming in ragged clouds. The horns had sounded twice as they approached friends, not foes and the keep had stirred from its uneasy slumber.
Jon Snow dismounted first, his cloak heavy with frost, Ghost padding silently at his side. His eyes swept the gathered men Northmen with their spears and furs, boys clutching axes too big for their hands, old men with the grim resolve of those who had seen too many winters. The air stank of fear and pine smoke.
From the hall of the keep strode Robb Stark, his hair damp from the snow, his armor hastily buckled, Grey Wind pacing close to his boots. He met Jon halfway across the yard, clasping his brother's arm with the old, familiar strength.
"You made it," Robb said, relief threading through his voice. "Your word reached us sometime ago fortunately I was already here with House Umber. We've called the banners as far as the raven could fly to be here with us. You've done well, Jon. The North gathers here, and they won't walk past us."
Jon's face was a mask of cold resolve, his eyes shadowed. "Eastwatch has fallen," he said, his words cutting the air like a blade. "No word from the men who held it. We heard the sound, Robb a crack like the world itself breaking apart. That was the sound of the Wall being breached. And…" he hesitated, the weight of what he carried pressing on his tongue, "…the Night King rides a dragon now."
The yard went silent, the wind the only thing daring to move. Robb's breath caught, his brows knitting as if the very sense of it defied his mind.
"A dragon?" he repeated, low, almost a whisper. "By the gods… this means they are already marching through Brandon's Gift. Protected by this beast." His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white. "What of Aeron? Where is he?"
Jon looked eastward, the snowflakes catching in his dark hair. "He is alive thankfully, he is out there," he said at last. "He'll come. Or…" his jaw set, "…he'll meet them head-on. You know what he is capable of."
Robb's eyes lingered on his brother a heartbeat longer, reading the meaning behind those words. Then his jaw tightened, the indecision hardening into command.
"Then we hold here," he said, voice rising over the yard. "We make this keep a wall of our own! Archers on the battlements double the watch. Riders, to the villages nearby, bring in every soul who can lift steel or carry stone. Maester! See the ravens sent all the way to Kingslanding. We may have but hours, if they get here either we hold them off or we die and the realm needs to know."
The men stirred, boots thudding on frozen ground, voices rising with the clatter of preparation. Fires were stoked, gates reinforced, barrels rolled to choke the inner yard.
Robb turned once more to Jon, his breath steaming between them. "We have the weapons, fire, Dragonglass and the little Valyrian steel we could find and rework, and we have enough men already, thousands of Freefolk and thousands of Northerners, but calling out for more is never a bad thing, If they breach here as they did Eastwatch… the North will bleed before dawn."
Jon's hand rested on Longclaw's pommel, his gaze was sharp as his sword. "They won't."
Above, the sky brooded heavy with snow, as though the storm itself waited for the dead to arrive.
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KARHOLD -
The port of Karhold lay still beneath a grey dawn, The sea a field of broken steel as ice floes drifted and cracked against the wooden piers. Snow swept in low sheets from the east, clinging to the cliffs where the banners of House Karstark flapped against the black stone walls.
Then the horns began to sound long and deep, rolling over the water like thunder. From the mists that hugged the horizon came the first shadow of masts, then a forest of them, sails swelling with the wind. Gold and green, red suns upon orange, white falcons upon blue. A fleet vast enough to drown the bay.
The men of Karhold gathered on the dockside, furs drawn tight, pikes braced in the ice-slick planks. Horses stamped and snorted clouds of steam as the first galley glided in, its prow carved like a leaping stag wreathed in gold. Behind it came the flutter of Tyrell roses, the proud sun of Dorne blazing, and the sky-pale falcon of the Vale.
Lord Karstark himself stood at the head of the welcoming line, his shoulders broad beneath a cloak of white wolf pelts, his beard stiff with frost. "So they come," he muttered, his breath steaming. "Southrons, here in the North, even the sand ones.."
As the gangplanks clattered down, Martell spearmen strode forth in bright scaled leather, Tyrell men-at-arms in polished half-plate, and knights of the Vale with their sky-blue cloaks billowing.
"My lords," Karstark greeted, bowing his head with the formality the cold demanded. "Karhold welcomes you, though the times are ill for feasts."
The young Tyrell knight and prince, Sir Lorace Tyrell face ruddy from the cold he was not bred for, gave a stiff nod. "We sail for war, Lord Karstark. No feast can sweeten that."
Doran Martell himself disembarked next, his dark eyes scanning the grey cliffs with an almost amused wariness. "The air bites," he said with a half-smile, drawing his cloak close. "No vipers here, only wolves and ghosts, a good change if I do say so myself."
Karstark's face hardened, the lines deepening as he gestured for them to follow. "Aye it does, it's too damn cold even for us now. And yes ghosts, and worse lurk here in the north. We've had dark tidings, my lords. Though I didn't expect the ruling Prince of Dorne to show up here." Doran simply laughed and said "I had to witness this myself, I won't be doing any of the fighting as you can already tell.", They began to walk the length of the dock, the sound of their retinues marching behind like the grinding of distant ice. "A raven came this dawn. Eastwatch has fallen. Not a soul survived it seems, only smoke and silence. They say the Wall has been broken. So whoever did that, is sure to come through here."
The murmurs among the southern lords swelled like a sudden wind. "Broken?" a knight of the Vale breathed, his gloved hand tightening on his sword.
"The dead march now," Karstark said grimly, his breath fogging the air. "Either here or the Last Hearth will taste their first blow. We steel ourselves for filth to come for us, and pray we do not freeze before they do in this unusual winter.."
The words hung there, heavy as the stormclouds above. And then
A sound tore through the sky.
It was no horn. No man could shape such a noise. A scream, high and ragged, like ice itself being ripped apart. It echoed over the bay, rattling the masts, sending the gulls shrieking from the cliffs. Men flinched, some clutching their ears, others staring upward into the snow-choked heavens.
"What in the name of the gods..." a Tyrell bannerman whispered, his voice swallowed by the gale.
Karstark's hand shot to his sword hilt, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the sky. "That… was no bird."
The southern lords exchanged dark looks. Even Doran's usual poise faltered for a heartbeat, his brow furrowing as the wind carried another faint echo of the sound, far off, but moving.
Above, the clouds shifted, and for a heartbeat the snow turned the color of ice.
The wind howled whipping the sea into shards of foam as the southern fleet crowded Karhold's frigid docks. Men shouted orders, ropes strained, banners of sun, rose, and falcon snapped in the gale. Yet for all their numbers, for all their polished helms and gleaming spears, a hush fell when the last echoes of that scream drifted over the bay.
Lord Karstark's breath steamed in great plumes, his gloved fist raised high. His voice, when it cut the cold, was iron against the storm.
"Steel your hearts! Man the walls, string every bow! Keep your bloody eyes to the skies!" He turned, his white-furred cloak lashing like a banner. "Archers on the ramparts, pikes to the gates! MOVE!"
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If you Like this story! Check out my other stories! Shadow Monarch in DC
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