Winterfell
Hour of the Wolf
Ser Rodrik, the guards, and I made our way through the halls of Winterfell's residential quarters — where the Stark family resided — searching for Sansa.
I needed to find her now. The plot was basically unraveling at this point, and that meant everyone — especially the Starks — was in danger.
As we passed Lord and Lady Stark's chambers, we spotted a group of Ironborn pounding on a door, trying to break it down. From inside, we heard cries of panic.
One of those screams —
Familiar.
Sansa.
We ducked into the shadows, avoiding the Ironborns' line of sight.
"Damn Ironborns!" a guard beside me growled through clenched teeth. His eyes burned with fury as he took in the fallen bodies of Stark guards and servants around us. He raised his sword, ready to charge —
I grabbed his arm and yanked him back.
"Wait! I know they deserve it — but don't let anger cloud your judgment. We need to be smart, not reckless," I whispered sharply, a Calm spell already prepped in my hand just in case.
The guard hesitated, his jaw tight, but gave a reluctant nod.
I turned to Ser Rodrik.
"Ser Rodrik," I whispered, drawing his attention. "I'm going to draw their attention to the other side of the hallway. Once I do, I want all of you to move silently, surround the chamber, and form a perimeter. When the bodies start dropping — then you strike."
Ser Rodrik nodded. "A sound plan."
We were matched in numbers, but a head-on fight in this narrow hall would be chaos. A trap was the smarter move — we had to protect Sansa.
"But lad," one of the younger (now younger-looking) guards whispered, "how are you going to get past them without being seen?"
I grinned and cast Invisibility.
Gasps and choked murmurs rose among the guards as I vanished from view.
"Remember — wait until the bodies start to drop," I said aloud, my disembodied voice echoing slightly in the corridor.
Being invisible felt like wearing a cloak made of starlight — cool, light, and silent.
I haven't even used a Shout yet. Honestly not sure what will happen if I do...
Silently, I crept forward.
"Come out now!" one of the Ironborn shouted at the door. "Do it quick, or we get angry — very angry!"
From inside, more cries — female voices, terrified. One of them unmistakably Sansa's.
Gods... I will rip every last one of you limb from limb for threatening my sister.
I slipped behind one of the Ironborn, drew my Bound Dagger, and drove it clean into his heart — silencing him with my other hand.
Whether it was instinct from mastering Stealth or muscle memory from my time as a Dark Brotherhood assassin... I knew exactly where to strike.
He died instantly. My invisibility held.
I dragged the body silently a few meters back and eased it to the ground. Then moved to the next.
Same result.
"Wait — where the hell are Jan and Buir?!" one of them shouted.
The remaining Ironborn snapped to alert, some drawing blades, others raising torches.
Time to speed things up.
I positioned myself across from them, near the opposite end of the hallway, and dispelled the Invisibility.
"HEY, BASTARDS!" I shouted.
Every head turned. Shock, confusion, and malice flickered across their faces.
"Your friends dropped like flies," I taunted, gesturing to the bodies. "But what can I expect from glorified pirates?"
One of them — the one who had noticed the missing men — glared at me with pure hatred.
Family, probably.
"YOU BASTARD! KILL HIM!!" he roared.
All eight charged at once.
Quick analysis: only three of them showed any kind of proper training. The others? Sloppy, wild — Ironborn-style. Basically "stab until it dies."
I almost felt bad for them.
Almost.
I conjured Frostbite into my left hand and blasted the ground in front of them.
A torrent of white mist and ice erupted, covering the stone floor with slick, freezing vapor.
The Frostbite spell hit the ground with a hiss, coating the stone floor in a sheet of ice.
The Ironborn faltered the moment they saw it — too late. Their boots slipped, and they crashed to the ground in a mess of limbs and curses.
They scrambled to rise, stumbling forward like drunks in a blizzard. I was ready for them.
The first lunged at me with a knife, but his footing betrayed him. I sidestepped and slashed my Bound Dagger across his throat.
It sliced through flesh like a hot knife through butter.
He collapsed, choking on his own blood.
"Next!" I called, eyes locked on the rest.
"Bastard!"
"Sorcerer!"
"Monster!!"
Easy to rile up, I thought.
Three came at once.
I hurled my dagger. It struck the first in the forehead. He dropped instantly.
The other two froze, then collided mid-step, clumsy and panicked. I saw my opening.
I conjured Ice Spike, forming a jagged shard of blue ice in my hand, and hurled it.
The spike flew like a javelin, piercing through both men before smashing into the far wall and shattering into frosted mist.
Holy shit... I love magic.
The surviving Ironborn's expressions shifted — from rage to fear.
Hard to blame them. Watching six of your comrades get slaughtered by a seven-year-old conjuring magic like a demigod would rattle anyone.
Some looked ready to run — but Ser Rodrik and the guards were already in position, forming a shield wall behind them. No escape.
To their backs — Winterfell's swords.
To their front — me.
I clapped my hands once, drawing every eye in the room.
"Listen carefully!" I roared, my voice booming unnaturally loud. "Lay down your weapons and surrender. You'll be allowed to take the Black.
Otherwise — you die where you stand."
My voice echoed, sharp and deep like rolling thunder.
I blinked. Was that... The Voice?
In Skyrim, Ulfric had killed the High King with a Shout. The Greybeards could barely whisper without leveling mountains.
And I was the Dragonborn. The true heir to that power.
With magic already buffed to god know what level in this world... The Voice might be even worse.
I just became a Overpowered Dragon like Black Bolt
'Note to self: Never casually Shout indoors. or on a populated area if I don't want to change the landscape'
The Ironborn dropped their weapons. Smart move.
I smiled. '100 Speech is still OP.'
I raised a hand and cast Paralyze on them. The guards quickly stepped in to bind the stunned prisoners.
I didn't pay them any more mind — I had more important things to do.
I walked to Sansa's door.
I could hear sobbing inside.
"Sansa," I called softly.
The sobs stopped.
"J-Jon?" came her voice — small, unsure.
"It's me. I woke up."
I heard a rush of movement, but also someone stopping her.
"Calm down, Lady Sansa. It's a trick," a man's voice said — probably a guard.
"Roger, is that you?" Ser Rodrik called out from behind me.
"S-Ser Rodrik?!" the guard responded, disbelief and suspicion in equal measure.
"Aye, lad."
"Prove it!" Roger demanded.
Ser Rodrik gave a proud nod. "You always leave your left side open in a fight, no matter how much I try to beat it out of you — but Maisie always patches you up after anyway."
Silence... then:
"Ser Rodrik!" Roger shouted, rushing to unlock the door.
The barricade scraped away. The door opened.
Roger stood there — cut, bloodied, exhausted — but smiling.
Ser Rodrik clapped his shoulder, but before either could speak—
"JON!!"
Sansa launched herself into my arms, sobbing into my chest.
I held her tightly, feeling her tears soak into my shirt.
When we pulled apart, I looked into her face — younger, tear-streaked, but unmistakably Sansa.
A younger Sophie Turner stared back at me with wide, watery eyes.
"Hi, little wolf," I said gently.
She smiled brightly through her tears and hugged me again.
Even when we separated, she refused to let go of my hand.
I glanced around the room. A bed and heavy furniture had been shoved against the door.
Near the corner, Jeyne Poole — Sansa's friend — sat trembling.
I approached slowly and rested a hand on her shoulder, casting Calm with a whisper of magic.
She flinched, but her shaking stopped.
"You're safe now, Jeyne. No one's going to hurt you."
Sansa joined me, offering quiet comfort to her friend.
Then I noticed a bloodied guard collapsed in the corner, bleeding out.
He risked his life to protect them... and he's dying.
Not on my watch.
I stepped forward, both hands glowing with Healing Hands.
"Move," I ordered.
The guards backed off as golden light poured from my palms and engulfed the dying man.
He was a mess — organs torn, gashes everywhere. On Skyrim logic, I'd need six or seven hours to stabilize him.
But I wasn't in Skyrim anymore.
I was a Dragonborn in Westeros — with broken power scaling.
One minute later, I stopped casting.
The guard blinked. His wounds were gone. Even the scar tissue had vanished.
He poked his own side in disbelief.
The room was dead silent.
And Sansa — Sansa stared at me with open awe.
I had more to do.
"Ser Rodrik," I called.
The knight snapped out of his daze. "Yes, Jon?"
"Please escort Sansa and Jeyne back to Lady Stark."
He nodded.
But—
"No! D-Don't leave me, Jon!" Sansa clutched my sleeve, eyes wide with fear.
Gods... I swear I will never let her go through what she did in the show. Ever.
'Kill list: Euron Greyjoy. Littlefinger. And probably half of King's landing.'
I crouched and cupped her cheeks gently.
"Don't worry, little wolf. I won't let anything happen to you.
Besides..." I smiled. "You're going to love your ride. I can't let my little sister walk barefoot on a cold stone floor, can I?"
She blinked, confused.
I picked her up and set her on my shoulders. She squeaked in surprise.
We probably looked hilarious — two kids barely tall enough to reach a table, playing at war.
I summoned Conjure Familiar.
A massive ethereal direwolf appeared before us.
Sansa and the others gasped. Some guards almost drew steel — until Ser Rodrik waved them down.
"It's okay, Sansa. He won't hurt you," I assured her.
The direwolf licked my cheek, then Sansa's, tail wagging like a happy hound.
She giggled, finally relaxing.
I gave the wolf a sign, and it lay down. It was enormous — bigger than most draft horses.
"Your mount, milady," I said, lowering her gently onto its back.
She yelped in surprise — then ran her hands over the creature in awe.
I turned to Jeyne, lifted her before she could object, and placed her behind Sansa.
The direwolf stood, prompting a mix of gasps and stifled yelps.
"Ser Rodrik," I said. "Please escort them back to Lady Stark."
"With honor, Jon."
"B-But Jon, where are you going?" Sansa asked, trying to stay balanced.
I opened my mouth — and the alarm bells rang out across the keep.
I looked at her, then Ser Rodrik. We both nodded.
I gave Sansa a tight smile and kissed her cheek.
"They attacked our home, Sansa.
Now... I'm going to show them what happens when you strike a wolf's den."
Time to hunt Ironborn.
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Wintertown
Hour of The Wolf
Third person POV:
!!!BOONG CLAANG!!!
!!!BOONG CLAANG!!!
The bell bellowing was the first thing that those who lived in Wintertown heard in the middle of the night, followed by
"IRONBORN!!"
Then it was completely chaos, the ironborns started to butcher their way on the city, killing, raping and pillaging
A couple of patrol guards were fighting them but because all the most fighting man had gone to war they were in disvantages
The Ironborns had sailed and landed on Sea Dragon Point and had traveled on foot by the Wolfwood, covering their tracks and attacking at the moment when everyone would be at their defenseless moment
These attack was ordered by Balon Greyjoy but it was envisioned by Euron greyjoy, who now stands watching with glee as his men were tearing thorugh the people protected by the Starks
He was hoping to join the ''Celebrations'' but he still didn't receive the signal from his men who were infiltrating Winterfell
as the castle was completely closed off
They were task to capture or kill the Starks but he was hoping that they had captured Them, the boys were going to be killed
But the women
Ohh They will be put to throught another 'ordeal'
But it looks like it had failed and a siege is going to take place
"Uncle! when are we going to join the raid of Winterfell?!" The impatient voice of Maron Greyjoy, Balon greyjoy son and nephew of Euron breaks him out of his thoughts, as the boy was greedily eyeing Winterfell
Euron roll his eye, his nephew has been getting on his nerves ever since Balon forced him to take the boy on the trip
'At least Balon have other sounds, so one less isn't going to be a problem' Euron Thinks maliciously
"Until we have the signal we won't go to Winterfell!" Euron barks angrily at Maron
"But Uncle-"
!!!!HOOOOOWLLL!!!
Every single soul on Wintertown froze when they heard those howls
They heard at least a dozen different howls, all loud and powerful, all coming from Winterfell
Before they could theorize why, The Gate that was closed stopping The Ironborn from siezing Winterfell suddenly open
Before any Ironbron could try to pass or shout in glee at the gate finally open
Dozens of Gigantic Ethereals Direwolves start to run out of the gate
Ripping through every Ironborn on the way
Their claws and fangs ripping with ease the armor of the few Ironborn who were wearing
Was right there that Euron saw a vision that is going to be forever ingrained on his mind
A boy, with features of Stark, riding atop of a Direwolf while wielding a Purple Ethereal Greatsworf cutting heads easily
"A-AT ARMS YOU FOOLS!!!" Euron shout at his men trying to rally them up against the wolves but what happens next broke any type of power he had over his troops
The boy at the top of the Direwolf extends his hands and a being made of lighting and rock materializes out of thin air
Its body was made of black and rocky stones but had lighting running through it
Didn't have a face but was glaring down at down with the power of a storm
The Storm God
The Storm God was here
Somehow the Stark boy summoned him to kill them
"THE STORM GOD!!" A Ironborn shouted in fear
"HELP US DROWE-ARGH!!"
!!!KRAKROMM!!
The Ironborn was interrupted when bolts of lighting that sounded like Thunders cut through Ironborns like a hot knife on butter
A single bolt of lighting would kill at 5 Ironborn every time
Those who lucky enough to be missed by the bolts were killed by the Direwolf
A couple of Ironborn had start to fire arrow at the Storm God but the arrow just bumped on his rocky skin harmsely
As if the boy was punish them for trying to retalieate the Boy summoned another Storm God
The two start to raing down lighting together on the Ironborns
"U-Uncle w-what are we g-going to do" Maron ask his Uncle fearfully as their men around them all die mercilessy
"I know what I am going to do!" Euron tell his nephew, who look at him
Euron then grab his nephew and push him in front of himself, making Maron being a victim of a Direwolf who was coming for Euron
Euron then start to run like a bat out of hell, the screams that originally belong to his victims now belonging to his men
Euron didn't even dare to look back as he run in direction of the forest
"Going so soon?" A powerfull voice cut throughthe chaos stoping Euron dead on his tracks
He look back and see that Stark boy look down on him from the top of his wolf
"The mighty Euron Greyjoy, running with his tail between his legs, I can't say I am suprise, after all Greyjoy isn't name know for its courage" Jon mocks him before climbing down of his wolf
This infuriates Euron beyomd reason
If he is going to die he is going to take the boy down
He pulls put his sword and run to the boy
"AAARRGGHHH!- Euron bellow a battlecry and swings it but in feat of speed dodge to the side while carry his longsword
But then suddenly the world was spinning to Euron very fast
Euron falls to ground
He feels lighter than before , he rolls slowly and see the boy standing over a headless body
'What? How?' Thats is the last thought of Euron Greyjoy
Euron Greyjoy died as he lives worthlessy
But at least his body woud be usefull as a warning
Then Jon turn back to the fight.
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During on what has been called the shack of Wintertown, Jon Snow appeared out of Winterfell with a Army of Direwolfs and two Storm Atronach which the invaders mistaked for The Storm God
A God know on Ironborn beliefs that is the sworn enemy of their 'Drowned God'
The invaders even with having the numerous advantage of 800 men were completly annihilated by the summons of Jon Snow
Aftee the battle Jon personally impaled the body of every single one of the Invaders using Ice Stakes, including the body of Euron and Maron Greyjoy
This earnes two of Jon most famous monikers
The Bloody Wolf and The Impaler
Fragment of The End of House Greyjoy by Professor William Kolvir
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Spells used on this Chapter:
Frostbite: When cast, a continuous stream of Cold is send from the caster hand to any target It's aimed at.
Ice Spike : launch a deadly spike made of ice magic at the direction of the caster choice
Calm: Calm is an light level Illusion spell that reduces the target panic or anger, having a instantly calmly effect on the target.
Conjure Familiar: Summons Etheral wolfs that follow the Caster commands
Bound Dagger: Summon a Ethereal Daedric dagger
Bound Greatsword: Summom a Ethereal Daedric Greatsword
Paralyze: Completely paralyzes the target hit by the Caster
Conjure Storm Atronach: Summon a being formed out of lighting and rocks named Storm atronach that follows the Caster commands
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Hi guys! I finally manage to finish this Chapter
I really liked how it turned out
Hope you all like as well
Please vote and comment
Word count: 3940