A/N: The Wall stands.
-x-X-x-
Jon breathes and the air immediately turns to frost. His facial hair is also frosted over as he stands there atop the Wall, staring out into the True North and standing vigil. The King has made it clear that he expects the Others to attack any day now… indeed, any hour at this point.
Honestly, Jon didn't pretend to fully understand it. Axel had said something about the Wall not just being a physical barrier, but a magical one as well. It was what had kept the Others away for eight thousand years and kept them at bay these past couple of months even after they'd managed to nearly kill the King.
But no more. The magic was running out, faster now that the Champion of the Great Other, this 'Night King' was apparently siphoning it. And that meant the Wall had to be defended the old fashioned way, with honest steel.
Or rather, honest dragonglass. Jon's hand drops to the dagger of dragonglass at his side, ready just in case. Good castle forged steel could kill a wight just the same as anything else, but if a White Walker showed up, the dragonglass was the only sure thing.
For a time, it had even been up in the air whether the Wall itself would stay standing. But that concern had passed. The Wall still stood… and the living guarded it. Every Castle had been reclaimed now. Even at the height of the Night Watch's power, the entire Wall had not been manned. Until now.
"Jon."
Startling, he turns to see a familiar man striding up to him. His father Lord Eddard Stark. He does his best to smile through the cold and Ned returns it as well as he can too.
Silence reigns between them for a moment before his father reaches out and grasps Jon's shoulder. Only then does he speak.
"I want you to know how proud I am of you, Jon. No matter what happens next, you have exceeded my every expectation. I am so glad to call you my son."
Jon hesitates for a moment, wanting to bask in the approval… but he can't lie to his father.
"… I'm considering taking the King up on his offer, father. Regarding the planned reforms for the Night's Watch… and the annulment of certain parts of our oaths."
It's not normal by any stretch of the imagination, but if anyone was going to make it happen, it would be Axel Baratheon. More and more of the King's plans for the future of the Wall had come out and permeated their way through the Watch and the North in the last few months.
None of Jon's brothers, nor most of the Lords of the North, were happy that the King had given the wildlings so much land in the Gift. But Axel had just scoffed and told them if they really didn't want him to populate the Gift, they should start populating it themselves. No more vows of celibacy. No more honorable men going to their graves childless.
People hadn't taken him seriously at first… but he'd been adamant about what he was going to do. These days, everyone believed him… especially when Benjen Stark, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, had signaled his support for Axel's proposed reforms.
Still, Jon expects his father to be disappointed in him. After all, even if the King claims he's allowed to 'annul' oaths and vows without repercussion, everyone knows that's bullshit… Jon is talking about becoming an Oathbreaker, plain and simple. He-
"Good."
What? Jon whips his head to see his father smiling at him softly.
"The King may very well be right. We let the Night's Watch fall into disrepair. We let it languish for centuries if not millennia. We were lucky to have a man like Axel Baratheon on the Iron Throne when the Others returned. We may not always be so lucky in the future."
Jon breathes out slowly, completely and utterly flummoxed. For a long moment, Eddard stares at him, almost looking like he wants to say something. But finally, he just shakes his head.
"You are a good, honorable man, Jon. I believe you would be a good father too."
He doesn't know what to say to that, though his heart is definitely soaring at his father's words. Fuck, Ygritte was going to be insufferable when he told her. Honestly, Jon still couldn't fully believe she'd waited for him all this time. He-
That thought never finishes as a sudden horn sounds out from along the Wall. Jon jolts and so does Lord Stark. Both of them peer out… and see movement coming through the distant forest. Not just a bit of movement either… no, this is like the entire forest has come alive, uprooted itself, and is crawling towards them.
"It's time. They're coming."
Jon swallows thickly. Winter is coming. Those were the words of House Stark. But as the dead crawl out of the forest and into No Man's Land, making their way towards the Wall, he can't help but think it no longer accurate.
Winter wasn't coming. Winter… was already here.
-x-X-x-
Axel watches on as the Battle for the Dawn begins with little fanfare. Flying high over the Wall, he gazes down and sees as the undead advance. The Wall is seven hundred feet tall and one hundred leagues long. And the undead are coming for the entirety of it.
The living are ready though. From the Night's Watch and the wildlings to the armies of the Seven Kingdoms… to even Daenerys' Unsullied all the way from Braavos. The Wall is fortified in a way it has never been before in its entire history. More than that, the supply lines are in place, sprawling back out across the whole of Westeros like tendrils.
From Lord Davos commanding what remains and could be rebuilt of the Royal Fleet as well as Daenerys' ships near Eastwatch by the Sea to the east, to Asha and her reimagined Ironborn along with the Redwyne Fleet resupplying via the Shadow Tower to the west.
The Wall was not just fully manned; it was fully supported. Westeros had answered Axel's call, even if it had not always been entirely willing to do so. He hadn't stopped until every man, woman, and child in his lands was turned to the task of preparing for the Others' coming. Everyone could do their part. And so everyone had.
Now they were about to find out if it was enough. The undead start to reach the Wall… and in turn start to climb it. The magical defenses that once held them and their masters at bay are gone, but the Wall itself remains thanks to the efforts of the Seven. And that might just make all the difference.
Flaming arrows and burning pitch rain down from the top of the wall onto the masses of undead crawling up over themselves. The wights burn en masse, some falling back and spreading the flames. But even as the fire spreads among them, it's not enough to stop the oncoming tide.
Sooner than Axel would have preferred, he can see more and more flashes of green at the base of the Wall in both directions. Wildfire, as much as could be produced and gathered in the past two and a half months. The green flames burn a lot longer than normal fire, especially this far north in this cold of an environment. Where normal fire is snuffed out by the winds in seconds sometimes, wildfire burns and burns and burns.
… It's still not enough. The mass of undead moving out of the forest towards the Wall has never stopped. They're reaching the hundred foot mark in their climb now, huge pillaring towers of corpses slowly but surely scaling the side of the Wall like an ant colony.
The forest itself is still alive with so much movement too. Truth be told, Axel is starting to think that what he saw when he went to face the Others months before… that was just the tip of the iceberg, no pun intended. He'd flown over hundreds of thousands of undead, but now… now he was seeing millions and millions of the creatures surging forward.
However, it was less about what he was seeing and more about what he wasn't seeing. The wights were everywhere and in every shape and size too. It was just as diverse as Axel remembered. Human corpses, giant corpses, animal corpses. Corpses that Axel can't even identify properly.
But no Walkers. He doesn't see a single Other as he flies along the length of the Wall, watching to make sure things are… well, not necessarily great, but going alright.
Everyone is holding for the time being. But supplies won't last forever and the undead tide is endless. Axel still hesitates for just a moment, half-expecting an ice spear to come flying his way at any time now. When it doesn't, when there's still no sign of the Others anywhere as he flies faster and faster up and down the length of the Wall… Axel grunts and makes his way back to the center, to where he's awaited.
"Daenerys."
The former Dragon Queen perks up as he comes in for a landing next to her… and all three of her dragons. The massive hulking beasts have been used as little more than pack mules for months now. But that doesn't change what they truly are… weapons of mass destruction and death.
"Our true enemies hide from us. Time to smoke them out."
A wide and wicked grin spreads across Daenerys' face as her eyes glow bright orange and she begins to transform. Her dragons also begin to glow orange. Daenerys hops up onto Drogon's back and the five of them are off, Axel drawing Winter's End from his back as they dip down the side of the wall.
"DRACARYS!"
Daenerys' voice on the wind signals the impending doom of the wight tide. Fire is great. Wildfire is better. But dragonfire… dragonfire is best.
Massive gouts of dragon flame scorch the side of the Wall as the corpse pillars reach the halfway point up the massive fortification. The dragons burn hundreds if not thousands of corpses per second, even as they fly and fly.
Axel moves with them and Daenerys, having to hold himself to a slower standard, so he's not overtaking them. But at the same time, the effect on both the battle as a whole AND morale… cannot be understated. Together, he and Daenerys fly her dragons up and down the length of the Wall. A hundred leagues flies back in the blink of an eye even at this slower speed, them moving back and forth and destroying undead by the tens of thousands as they go.
The cheers of those fighting on the Wall, those fighting for the chance to live and see a new Dawn, reaches Axel's ears wherever they go. From the Shadow Tower to Eastwatch by the Sea, everyone is bolstered when they see dragonfire beating back the darkness, slaughtering wights in innumerable amounts.
If nothing changes, they'll eventually win this battle simply through attrition. Everyone else might need to be constantly resupplied, but not Daenerys and Axel. The former Dragon Queen and her dragons have almost as much stamina as Axel himself. And while it certainly looks like the Others have commandeered every single corpse that has died north of the Wall in the last eight thousand years, even they will run out eventually.
Which of course is what ultimately forces their true enemies' hands. The attack, when it finally comes, is as fast as it is deadly, and it arrives without warning too.
But Axel is ready. There's a reason he hasn't let Daenerys go off on her own with just her dragons for company. There's a reason that Winter's End hasn't cut through a single wight yet. Because ultimately, Axel knew that the Others wouldn't be going after him this time. No, they would go after the ones destroying their army. They would go after Daenerys' dragons.
Winter's End flashes through the air, the Colossal Valyrian Steel Sword cutting down an ice spear as Axel imposes himself between the magical conception of death and the dragon it was meant for. Viserion lives to see another day, even as more ice spears come flying out of the forest and Axel cuts each and every single one out of the air, one by one.
Finally, Axel makes eye contact with the Night King and his Walkers. Finally, the true architects of this madness have been found. A wide and wild rictus of a grin spreads across Axel's features as he points the massive tip of Winter's End directly at the Night King's inhuman face.
Round two, fuckface.
-x-X-x-
A/N: Next time, fight time.