[Chapter Size: 3000 Words.]
Third Person POV.
The Wall.
...
...
Still with the rain between lightning and wind, suddenly, an arrow was shot into the midst of the silence, but it was simply deflected by an invisible force as it approached its target.
The man who had launched it, atop the walls of Castle Black, took a step back, startled to see his arrow simply break in midair before falling backward.
Then, Daemon raised his hand toward him before the stunned and frightened man was pulled by an invisible force to the edge of the parapet. Using telekinesis, Daemon pulled him directly, and the man fell, screaming before dying from the fall, with Daemon adjusting his body to fall directly neck-first, snapping it upon impact.
The other men there looked stunned at the situation, seeing their companion killed by the magic they had heard so much about—the same that Daemon used to terrorize the South.
But no one acted against it, just watching him die there.
"The question I ask you: will you surrender, or do you intend to fight and die right here?"
Daemon asked them all, while no one else tried to attack him, swallowing hard.
At the same time, the sound of war cries came from inside the tunnel.
Daemon glanced in that direction for a second before turning his attention back to the Night's Watch.
"And you better choose quickly... After all, you won't have much time."
He said, while the watchmen looked to the other side.
Jeor Mormont was still lying on top of the wall, unconscious after being struck by Daemon, while Ser Alliser, who had led the forces in front of the castle, had simply been crushed and killed by the explosion caused by Daemon.
The men were terrified and deeply afraid. Afraid that even if they surrendered, they would still be killed.
"Those who surrender, I will spare your lives. You will remain here at the Wall. I give you my word, as long as you continue to defend the Realm of Men."
Daemon said.
Despite his words sounding contradictory, what they didn't know was that his duty was to protect humanity—and not necessarily from the wildlings.
The first sword fell to the ground.
For the first time, everyone looked surprised at a young man who had dropped his.
This was the same young man Daemon had met when he was heading to Winterfell for the first time after returning. He had been his first source of information at the time, to learn a bit about what was happening in the Seven Kingdoms.
Daemon remembered the young man's sad story, who was born in Riverrun and was sent to the Wall for justice after his parents were murdered.
In any case, many judged him, but didn't even have time to say anything, as other swords began to fall to the ground.
A companion a bit farther off dropped his, and another one followed.
The swords continued to fall as men began to emerge from the entrance Daemon had destroyed, appearing in armor with cloaks that the free folk usually wore to protect themselves from the cold.
Some of the armors were from southern houses, with a rather chaotic mix of colors among the free folk—armors that had been stolen from various places and were now being used by the free folk after Daemon had given them.
Quickly, the crowd began to stop behind Daemon, seeing that he stood there still, even surrounded, while the watchmen's swords began falling to the ground one after another.
They kept falling, and certainly, all the wildlings who had appeared before them quickly encouraged even more to join in record time, while more than half had already dropped their weapons. Others seemed to stubbornly keep theirs.
Not that Daemon could blame them. After all, they had taken an oath, and they believed their entire life in the Watch had served to keep the wildlings away. So some were loyal, preferring to die rather than truly yield to the enemy to save their lives.
In the end, it was clear that 90% of the Watch had completely yielded before them.
Daemon looked up at the walls, searching for any archers. He saw one or two still holding their bows.
"Drop the bow, or I'll throw you down from there," he said, threatening, while the men quickly lowered or threw them to the ground, not wanting the same fate as their other companion, whom Daemon had done exactly that to.
"I want you to gather everyone's swords, along with their bows. Anyone still holding anything—throw them in the cells. Ask someone to show you where it is in the castle. No one is to be killed unless they attack us. Understood? Oh, and there's an old man inside the castle. He is not to be harmed under any circumstance. Otherwise, I'll handle whoever lays a hand on him myself."
Daemon said to all his men.
Mance and the other leaders were already there, leading the advance, nodding as they gave orders.
They began to spread out and collect the swords scattered on the ground, while the men still holding weapons were quickly detained—surrounded, tied up, and taken to the cells by a watchman who began guiding them.
In the end, the Night's Watch finally gave in.
The soldiers of the free folk also advanced up the Wall by the main staircase, finding many watchmen running from the lightning atronachs and taking them down.
Others headed to the top of the wall, while Daemon's summons had finally finished off the Watch members who fled in both directions away from Castle Black and the battle.
The free folk would go after them to capture or kill them if they still showed resistance.
They also began bringing the body of Jeor Mormont, unconscious and half frozen.
Daemon simply stood in the middle of the courtyard, observing for the next twenty minutes the movement throughout Castle Black, while it had already been taken.
In the end, those who had surrendered were gathered as a crowd in the middle of the courtyard, while Daemon kept the others in the cells to avoid inciting an immediate rebellion. He would deal with them later.
"Daemon Snow, we've finished everything here,"
a man approached, and Daemon nodded, not offended by being called Daemon Snow, since that was the initial name he gave when he introduced himself at the camp.
Many found it strange that he had changed his name, so they called him by the first one they knew him as.
In any case, the Night's Watch had fallen into his hands, while more and more men came out of the tunnel looking quite disappointed.
After all, the crows had already been easily defeated, and they didn't even get the chance to fight their old enemies, with Daemon having already forced them all to surrender.
Mance was the one who approached him at that moment.
"That was quick,"
he murmured, almost not believing that it had only taken one man to deal with the entire Watch—or rather, one man and a dragon.
Daemon nodded.
"Yes. First, I want to scout the area before we start moving the free folk out of the castle on this side. I want you to put a group together to sweep the ground from the Gift to midday."
He began issuing more orders.
"Place half of our forces to protect the camp up north that's guarding the elders, women, and children, so we can begin the relocation starting tomorrow. The other half, on this side of the Wall, set up in camps and raise the tents outside the castle. This night is over, and I don't intend to spill any more blood,"
Daemon said, while Mance nodded and began organizing everything.
"What a drag, huh, man? I was expecting something better than this,"
It was then that Tormund approached Daemon, still quite disappointed. They were among those who had expected to fight the Night's Watch, only to find everyone already surrendered.
"Relax, Tormund. Our battles are only just beginning. The Night's Watch was never a challenge. You'll get your chance when we march South,"
Daemon said.
"I hope so. Because it's disappointing that these guys stepped into our lands for so long trying to kill us, only to fall in such a pathetic way,"
he grumbled.
Daemon left him aside, while he saw some men bringing down the frozen and unconscious man from atop the Wall—it was Jeor Mormont.
"Daemon,"
a man approached. Some still called him Jon Snow, others Daemon Targaryen, with many sticking to the old name and others using the new out of respect.
"The man is dying."
He said, pointing to the partially frozen Jeor Mormont.
"Take him to the hall inside the castle and light the fireplace, keep him near the fire. The Spriggans will help him survive,"
Daemon said, while the men were already moving forward, being guided to the place.
Daemon summoned the Spriggans, who quickly moved in, accompanying them and using magic to begin helping the unconscious Lord Commander.
Jon had been bombarded by the rain the whole time, while his men ran from one side to the other—it was time to deal with this once and for all, as his gaze lifted to the sky.
"Lok Vah Koor!"
His shout quickly made everyone look at him, as the ball of energy soared into the sky with stunned expressions.
The next moment, the rain and wind began to ease, until they finally stopped, and the lightning in the sky ceased shortly after. Everyone stood with their mouths open, shocked—whether Night's Watch or not—as the sky completely cleared from the storm that had struck them, revealing a kind of aurora borealis in the sky, with a backdrop full of shining stars, as if the storm had never existed, even with all the puddles it had left everywhere.
Even the people in the camp north of the Wall stepped out of their tents, gazing in shock at the sudden change in the sky, wondering if the Old Gods, as they believed, were the ones doing this.
The dragon appeared in the sky at that moment, standing out in the darkness with its white scales, roaring as it passed over the castle.
People looked up, ignoring the dragon, trying to understand what had just happened, their gazes returning to Jon as if he were something beyond their comprehension.
Daemon saw Ygritte and Val approaching him with shocked and cautious looks.
Daemon had never created a storm only to disperse it afterward—as if he could control the world. They were in closed armor, even wearing helmets for protection, just as Daemon had asked them to.
Meanwhile, Daemon ignored all the eyes on him, as if he were a god, and first took care of Winter—his eyes turning white as he entered the dragon's mind and gave his orders for the dragon to fly to the other side of the Wall and rest there.
Tomorrow, he would deal with him, for now, there was nothing more to do with those who had surrendered.
The dragon could recover—though he hadn't exerted himself much, merely breathing a little fire and flying.
After that, the dragon began to fly, passing once more over the region, returning as Val and Ygritte still stared at it cautiously.
"I'm just going to have a brief talk with the men of the Watch who surrendered. Then, we'll go back to the other side of the Wall,"
Jon said to his spear-wives, as they nodded and stayed with him, finishing organizing the place.
He headed to the courtyard, where all the surrendered Watch members stood, casting uneasy glances at each other, with Castle Black now surrounded by what they used to call wildlings—exploring the area while looting anything they found strange or searching for people in hiding, as some had fled the battle to conceal themselves in the pantry.
Before Jon could reach the location, a woman approached with a sword in hand to inform him, though her gaze toward Jon was much more cautious now after his display.
"Daemon, there's an old man in the castle you mentioned earlier. He wants to speak with you,"
Karsi, Lucis's aunt, approached Daemon as she returned from Castle Black.
"Tell Maester Aemon that I'll speak with him at dawn and bring Daenerys Targaryen. Tell him I know who he is,"
Daemon said firmly, already aware of Aemon Targaryen's existence—though it was a recent discovery, as Benjen had told Daemon during occasional conversations, still kept as a prisoner while they advanced toward the Wall.
Few in the Watch knew who he really was, and Aemon had shared his origin with Benjen at some point.
The news was intriguing, and Daemon certainly wanted to meet another relative he had never known existed—believing until then that only he and Daenerys were the last living Targaryens.
The man nodded and left the area, while Daemon continued walking through the courtyard, surrounded by members of the free folk, as the gate of Castle Black stood wide open, with people already starting to pitch tents on the other side to ensure they were controlling the Night's Watch from both sides.
In any case, Daemon approached the men of the Watch while Karsi returned to deliver the message. Many stared at him, swallowing hard just from his presence as he looked at them all.
The fear was visible after they had seen everything he had done.
Stories had spread since Qhorin Halfhand, along with other rangers, claimed to have encountered him just before he reappeared in Winterfell.
At the same time, the news from the South about him spreading chaos circulated, and until then, there had been no evidence of others helping him—it all seemed to be his doing alone.
And finally, his terrifying dragon, rumored to have destroyed two noble castles in the Westerlands, a claim that turned out to be true and had appeared that night against them, flying across the Wall and unleashing its furious white flames that could freeze even the air.
In addition, the monstrous display of changing the weather—while he uttered ancient, powerful words—made him seem like a god, capable of summoning a storm and then dispersing it at will. What kind of mortal could do that?
What they had seen, no matter how exaggerated the tales they'd heard, surpassed all expectations.
Daemon was a monster, a kind of being that should not exist in this world. His presence was drenched in chaos and destruction.
No one yet knew that, in the end, he was a demigod among mortals.
"Hello, Night's Watch,"
Daemon began, analyzing them as he studied their faces. There were young men and old ones. Some, he questioned what their roles even were—looking nearly dead already, so old they were within the Watch.
There was also a single, notably fat young man among them, making him think perhaps the Night's Watch truly was for everyone: commoners, nobles, traitors, criminals, and bastards—as long as there wasn't a vagina between their legs. But Daemon said nothing and continued speaking:
"Since you've surrendered, nothing will happen to you, as I stated earlier. However, you will remain at the Wall and continue protecting the Realm of Men until the army of the dead arrives,"
Daemon said, while they immediately exchanged glances.
The dead were not entirely unknown to them anymore, after the confusion moons ago with corpses rising again.
But an army of the dead…
"I know it's hard to understand, but there are at least two hundred thousand dead marching for the Wall right now, coming from the north. They'll arrive when winter falls upon us all—if I'm right."
"That's why I intend to speed things up in the South. I'll send help to you later. The Wall is the only thing holding the dead back. You may not understand, or even think I'm making things up, but I'm sure, in time, you will understand."
"In any case, I still want you to take good care of the Wall. You can return to Castle Black and sleep in your quarters, as long as you don't do anything foolish. Nothing will happen to you. Tomorrow, we'll talk more."
"As for your companions we placed in the cells, I don't intend to kill or execute them either. If they still keep their watch on the Wall—even if they hate us—I'll grant them the same treatment."
"I'll look after them just as I'll guarantee your lives. The Night's Watch is still important to the North and to the world. I hope you'll cooperate, because we are not your enemies. Not anymore. As long as none of you do something truly unacceptable, you'll be fine. You may go now,"
Daemon said, with a simple speech.
They didn't quite understand all of his words, but they just nodded and began leaving the area, glancing cautiously at the wildlings who stared at them with hostility, as if ready to finish them right there—but no one did anything.
Jon noticed this.
"I don't want any of them touched, unless they act recklessly first,"
Daemon said, turning back to Mance, who stood nearby.
"I know I may be cruel asking you to stay and organize things. After all, I have my doubts some people might get out of control tonight while guarding the Wall. I'd like you to make sure the Night's Watch doesn't get ambushed and attacked in their rooms tonight because of the hatred the free folk hold for them,"
Daemon said, fully aware he wouldn't be surprised if some of his army acted and a few Watch members were murdered during the night.
"That's fine. The worst part is over. I can spend a night away from my wife,"
he said.
"I'm sure Val will love keeping her company,"
Daemon replied, while the blonde beside him nodded, clearly willing to protect her pregnant sister.
After that, Daemon began leaving the Wall.
He would handle the next steps the following day, as he finally began to move the free folk to the other side.
They were finally in the South.
-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------
Chapter 125 - The First Target, the Ironborn.
Chapter 130 - The First Allied House.
Chapter 140 - The Hour of the Dragon.
Chapter 149 - Dealing with the Prisoners.
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