[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Arctic, 298 AC.
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Jon met with all the army's senior leaders and ministers, Uncle Benjen and Arya, in a room with a large map and an enormous model of Arctic and the entire area around it for miles.
The region was perfectly set up to be used as a trusted reference to discuss the strategies they had been working on for weeks, once again.
" My king," Ducken said, the last to enter the room.
" Well, we are all here now," Jon began. "Let's discuss all our strategies, review them, every possible mistake we can make and all the countermeasures and damage control we need to have in mind as soon as we need to put them into action."
" Let's always think of the worst-case scenario and how to deal with it. I don't want to think negatively, but worse than that, I don't want to be taken by surprise in any way. I don't want to see our people suffer because of our possible mistakes in this war, whose duration we do not know; after all, it will depend on how we have our first contact with the enemy and how we reduce them to ashes."
Everyone nodded. They expected to take down a large portion of the enemy.
" Arctic is already sealed, my king. Now we'll just destroy them down to the last one," Thor said confidently from one corner of the model, but his voice was thunderous in the room.
" Yes, we'll deal with them. However, their strength boils down to just one thing; if we manage to take him down, we'll destroy them all... That is their weakness." Jon said.
" Have you managed to find out anything more about that White Walker, my king?" Aemon asked, while Jon sighed.
" I only got him to speak once, when he wanted to tell us that we would be destroyed and all that nonsense," Jon said. "I'm sure he won't say anything again, but he still showed some subtle signs as I asked him specific questions. I discovered that we can destroy them if the one they follow falls."
His visits to the senate's underground, where the captured White Walker was held, were made weekly, while Jon continued his questioning, wanting to understand more about those creatures, trying to comprehend their mode of operation. He understood that they are arrogant; as he himself saw when he destroyed them when they attacked Mance's camp. Even so, he seemed convinced that Arctic would be destroyed. After realizing that the walker reacted that way, without words, only with some expressions, it was easier to understand and pick up some information from them.
" After a few visits, I learned that they have aerial animals — many of them — as has already been said, and terrestrial animals too, bears, shadowcats, mammoths, terrible wolves," Jon explained. "We'll have to be careful even with these trying to climb the walls." He said before pausing.
" More than that, we must make sure that all fallen soldiers are pierced with dragonglass, because we cannot allow our numbers to be infected and become more undead."
" Why?" someone asked.
" Because we cannot let our fallen men rise with blue eyes," Jon reminded them, while the atmosphere in the room grew somber. No one there wanted to see their companions become those monsters.
"Unfortunately, we are subject to that," Jon admitted. "We are subject to losing men in battle. When those men rise with blue eyes, I hope you remember this and make a firm decision — no matter who they are: your brother, your sister. Your father, your mother. Your companion. Your friend. Even children..." Jon spoke in a harsh tone.
"From the moment they rise with blue eyes, they must be destroyed. Think of it as a release, because the moment they become undead, they are bound to the will of the one who leads the army of the dead. Killing them a second time is mercy; it frees them from the manipulation of those monsters, and allows them the freedom to find our gods and rest with them."
Jon said, as everyone nodded: "I hope you have the courage when that happens..."
Wanting to change the subject, Jon turned his attention to the model. "The army will be divided like this," Jon said, breaking the silence after the heavy mood, while looking at the small points on the map that indicated how the division would be.
"Yes: we will place 90,000 soldiers in the north and split 25,000 to the right and 25,000 to the left. We will divide the army among humans, dwarves, and giants in all areas. There will be orders to maintain real-time communication — it is the same modus operandi our armies have always operated under. I will lead in this war and pass information to the main leaders. However, I will enter the first battle."
"Do you still intend to risk fighting at the front, my king? I know that will raise morale, but we can't risk you falling on the battlefield," Lancelot said.
Kiera nodded. "He is right. If you fall, we will be lost." She said.
Many agreed with small nods; some fell silent, looking at Jon and awaiting his answer. Jon smiled and spoke firmly: "I will not stay away from the battlefield. I will fight alongside my men, even if it's at the first moment."
"I will be with you," Arya said.
"You will stay with the Unsullied, you will lead them and remain in the second layer. There is no need for you to advance with me," Jon told Arya.
"That's not fair. I won't let you take the risk alone," Arya insisted.
"This is not a discussion. You will stay in the second layer. I will go into battle with my men. They need to understand that the king also fights with them. Besides, I will take Lancelot and a squad of the royal guard with me, and Tormund will also join us. Meanwhile, Ducken will be the one who will lead the rest of the army at that moment." Jon spoke firmly.
Arya gritted her teeth, clearly upset, but she knew she would not have the power to convince Jon otherwise.
"My wives and their queens, Val and Seryna, will also stay with Arya," Jon continued. "If Ygritte wants to participate, she will stay with the final layer with royal guards. In the last artillery squadrons, we have to watch the sky — not only in front of the wall, but also in the city. That's why we will allocate, at minimum, ten thousand archers with dragonglass arrows to bring down any winged and undead creature."
"Will you use the dragons?" Haran, the giant, asked.
"The dragons will be used only inside the city," Jon answered. "They are still too young to enter open-field warfare; they can be injured — those damned White Walkers have spears that can hurt them and kill them, like they tried to do with Eragon while we were flying over Mance's camp, I'm not willing to risk my young dragons. Anyway, the dragons are already big enough to stay in the air, breathing fire for a while; they will protect Arctic's sky and burn to ashes any feathered creature with blue eyes."
"And what will you do with the larger dragons?" someone asked, referring to Eragon and Vezofēdrur..
"Obviously they'll be used to burn the dead outside the city, but I'll have to be quite strategic, attacking blind spots where the White Walkers are not. That's why I'll prepare an artillery group strong enough to focus solely on them. Our main problem is the storms," Jon said.
"If we don't have visibility, we won't be able to monitor them; if a storm hits Arctic, we'll be blind," Brynden said sadly.
"We'll be literally screwed..." Tormund murmured and the atmosphere grew tense in the room once more.
"Do you doubt that the old gods gave us this place just to die like cattle?" Leaf said this time, everyone looking at her. Jon raised an eyebrow, curious at the forest child's wording, but he knew what she meant; after all, they'd had long conversations in recent weeks in the sacred grove.
"Our gods will protect us. They cannot stop the dead from coming, but their storm magic will never allow a winter fury like this to take Arctic," she said. All thanks to our giant tree — almost two hundred meters, as tall as the wall. The power of the old gods is very strong there. "They will not leave us alone in such a desperate situation; remember that. We are the people of the old gods and they will be watching over us," Leaf emphasized.
"I agree. The magic is strong in Arctic and it will not allow any evil power to seize the realm," Seraphine added, in a serious tone.
Jon smiled, determined. "Our gods have never abandoned us."
"Jon..." Brynden called him, he seemed a little hesitant and Jon looked at him, nodding for him to continue. "I'm a bit worried about the influence of the Red God..."
Jon grimaced. "Why would I follow that god? He is not ours." Still he continued: "It's true that the red priest helped me with some things and they have supported us overall in southern Essos — as everyone knows. However, I made it clear to the god himself that he is not welcome in Arctic. I will not allow a single red priest, nor a fire witch to enter our walls. I have always made that clear; none of them entered Arctic."
"Even so," Seraphine commented, "the ex-slaves who came with us still pray to the flames."
"You know that our gods never allowed the influence of the Red God here. He has no real power among us; they pray only to a common fire, without signs or communication with their God," Jon stated. "I would never allow the presence of the Red God. I would expel them if they tried to enter Arctic, even knowing that the gods would react as soon as he tried to invade our territory." he informed.
"The Red God supports him because he knows our king is the most suited to face the Long Night; he has no other choice — so to hell with R'hllor," someone exclaimed.
"Can you stop talking about gods? I'm getting sick already…" Tormund complained, followed by nervous laughter.
"Well, our gods will be dealt with later. I'll go to the sacred grove after leaving here." Jon said.
"Now... let's prepare. We'll take the model straight to the north. I want you to build a large shed so we can continue discussing. And, as I said before, don't worry as if I were to fall and be in every battle... I want to give everyone confidence with the king fighting on the frontline; I will still keep them informed even in the middle of the fight. When we return victorious from the first charge of enemies, I will take full control of the army, with Ducken and Brynden assisting me, along with the other leaders. I will be both in the sky, with my dragons, and leading and managing the army while I communicate with all the leaders who will be around Arctic through my animals." Jon declared to everyone.
"Well, then we just have to wait for the bastards to arrive, and we'll finish them," Tormund commented proudly.
The meeting continued regarding civil matters. As Brynden had already informed the king before the meeting, the ministers discussed: while some would go to war, others would take care of the city.
The issue of the forges used by the dwarves was also discussed, who had worked like never before in recent weeks, shaping all the Valyrian metal available that Jon had created with Eragon.
Countless swords were forged for the war and the kingdom's warriors possessed them all, hundreds of them, even opening competitions in the arena, with prizes being blades of the magical metal — provided the Arcticans did not already have one. These weapons were not to be stored, but rather used against the dead. Only Jon kept his stock of armor and swords, which functioned as his personal wardrobe.
Other potential issues were also debated and, in the end, the meeting finally ended.
"Let me speak with you for a moment, Jon. I want to go with you, by your side in battle!" Benjen called, approaching Jon, while his nephew noticed his concern and touched his shoulder with his left hand.
"Don't worry about me, Uncle Benjen. I'll be fine. Besides, you're not so young; I would blame myself if something happened to you," Jon replied, with a sad smile.
"You must be joking, right? You know what your mother would say if she met me after death, knowing that her son died while I stayed behind," Benjen retorted.
"The answer is still no. I never met my mother, but surely she would also be furious with me if you died..." Jon admitted, keeping the sad smile.
Benjen stared at him, knowing Jon had already decided and that there was nothing he could do. "Damn it, Jon. If anything happens to you, I swear — I swear by whatever is most sacred — that I'll raise you from the dead and slap you in the face," Benjen said, a bit frustrated.
"It's obvious that if the king died, everything would be lost," someone in the room commented. "As much as I recommend that you don't say such words to my king, Benjen Stark, I still agree with the idea of keeping Jon off the battlefield," added Lancelot beside Jon, while the king rolled his eyes. He wasn't finished.
"Unfortunately, our king has a suicidal tendency to get into situations where his life is at risk, and we can't properly protect him," Lancelot concluded. "I already know His Majesty's personality very well."
"Well, Lancelot, I'll have you by my side this time," Jon reminded him, while the man nodded.
"Yes, and I feel much more relieved. Nothing fills me with more joy and comfort — I'll finally be able to protect you, perhaps for the first time in my life," said Lancelot, while Jon huffed.
"Don't exaggerate. It's not as if you haven't protected me in several situations. I only go out when something must be done alone," Jon countered.
"You mean those times when you were in the greatest danger? I must say... like that time with the black dragon?" Lancelot said in a teasing tone.
Lancelot had heard the reports from the south of Trinsmy and from the other royal guards when they went to retrieve Arya there, and he certainly wasn't pleased with what he heard, but could he have argued with the king? Jon simply returned victorious, but he didn't say much about his fight; they didn't even know exactly what had happened as a whole beyond what they'd heard about what occurred in the north.
Eragon was still recovering from a wound that Jon had healed, and the black dragon himself had lost an eye — a recoverable one — not to mention that his body smelled of burnt flesh, which made Lancelot question what had really happened in that battle between dragons, where the king of Arctic had come closest to losing his life.
In any case, Jon didn't argue further, said goodbye to Benjen, and went outside; he left the Senate, heading to the sacred grove in a carriage accompanied by Seraphine and Leaf, along with his royal guards.
"The city is much quieter," Seraphine commented in the carriage. They could see that the main streets were no longer as busy as before. There were few people walking around the city.
"Unfortunately, there's no more enthusiasm for business. There are no more classes, no more students running back and forth like before. Everyone is taking care of their families to protect themselves, preparing for war..." Leaf lamented.
"Our role is to fight for them, so they don't have to raise weapons. The last thing I want is to see children fighting monsters, trying to kill them," Jon said, unable to stop hating the idea of reaching such a scenario.
"It will be all right. And it seems you're going to seek the gods' guidance," Leaf said, while Jon settled into the carriage with the two Children of the Forest.
"I'll try. You know it's not something easy, or that happens often..." he said, looking toward the city.
"When was the last time the gods spoke to you, my king?" Leaf asked.
"It was not long ago, they gave me guidance about what to do with that man who gave children to the White Walkers... But speaking directly with me, it was years ago, when I discovered that I was a Targaryen. They helped me learn who I truly am..." Jon replied with a sad tone.
"You decided not to be a Targaryen or a Snow again at that time," Leaf recalled, and Jon nodded.
"That's true. I'm not necessarily belittling my blood. On the contrary, I'm proud of both my lineages... Being tied to Targaryen blood or even being a Stark bastard gave me clarity and taught me things — although the negatives outweigh the positives when living as a bastard. And I wouldn't wish that on anyone. I could even be a Stark, since I'm a true son... However, in the end, I decided to be an Arctican; that's why I kept my name in Arctic. Even though I could still be a Stark or a Targaryen like my parents, Arctic had already been born by then and was the symbol of everything I had built. That's why my name remained."
"That's amazing. I never had the chance for the gods to speak to me. I thought it would be too personal to ask before, but what is it like? What is their voice like? It must be divine," Seraphine seemed excited, never having had the courage to ask Jon that; now she had the chance.
Jon had shared with Leaf the contact he had a few times in his life with the old gods. "My first calling was when I received my powers, when my father sent me to the Wall, at the heart tree north of the Wall. When I managed to reach this land, I had a few more visions from the gods; the last one happened when I climbed the great tree itself, hanging from its branches, while reading the book that revealed I was a Targaryen and discovering Eragon's powers because of feeling my fury. There were a few other times, but nothing as remarkable..." Jon paused, recalling those events.
"Well, if I told you it appears as a human voice, a little strange, sounding like a melody, and with a feminine tone, I still doubt it's just one of the goddesses. The old gods are many, as we've referred to them; it must not be a single entity," Jon commented.
"Even so, not even Leaf has always received an answer from them," Seraphine said, looking at the other child of the forest.
"They answer my prayers," Leaf made clear. "I may not have visions or hear voices, but the gods answer me in other ways; sometimes they give signs, intentions. I don't have clear visions, but I always receive some response." She spoke in a serious, proud tone.
In the end, they stopped at the main square and got out of the carriages. Jon said he would go in alone, and the royal guards stayed behind while they advanced into the grove.
The other Children of the Forest greeted them as Jon went alone to the giant tree's bark. He decided to go to the core, the place where he always deposited his strength to make the tree grow. There was the heart of the sacred tree, the highest point for anyone who wanted to speak with the gods.
Jon arrived before a round form made of the tree's own wood, golden and shining, while several lines connected to the tree through roots. Jon always had to cast the same energy that made the great tree grow; he had done this over the years, to the point where the tree could even produce the same energy for itself without Jon's help. Still, he always offered his strength. He simply knelt — it was the only way he knew to do it in his life.
"I've been here a few times, but I almost never received answers. Even so, I'm here so that, even if they cannot intervene in this war, they give us guidance so we can destroy the enemy," Jon said, closing his eyes and keeping one arm on the ground, looking partially downward in a sign of submission.
"May the old gods grant us strength. Humanity needs them," concluded Jon.
He was the king, and he was kneeling. No one in Arctic would kneel for anyone or anything, except the old gods. After all, they are the guides of everyone in Arctic — the forests, the wildlife, the food, life — everything that comes from the natural; the work of their creation in this world.
If Jon did not kneel before them, even being king of Arctic, he would be a damned hypocrite if he did not revere them. It was with them that his life changed; even having a mission in this world and a great responsibility, Jon always valued them highly.
Everything fell silent. As on all previous occasions, Jon simply breathed, still maintaining his position. Waiting for any sign from them.
"You are here, Jon Arctic," a voice then said — Jon almost opened his eyes surprised when a melody arose. It was no longer just a female voice as he used to hear, but multiple voices, seeming to be of men, women and children at the same time. He could feel the environment changing, as if he were in a much more mystical place, as if he were no longer just in the heart of the great Weirwood. Still, he kept his eyes closed, as if he felt that would be necessary.
"My gods," Jon murmured.
"The melody of ice and fire has come to us. Our chosen one, our champion and hero. Your greatest challenge yet is about to begin, and as you asked, we will grant guidance," the gods spoke.
Whatever Jon had spoken with the old gods in that mystical conversation that day, he returned without saying anything — not to Leaf, nor to Seraphine, nor to his royal guards, nor to his family.
The days went by until, finally, the great snowstorm reached Arctic's gates.
The war was about to begin.
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Current Military Power:
Dwarves:
Total: 12,000 soldiers.
Growth: +3,000 newly trained soldiers during Jon's absence.
Humans:
Total: 133,000 soldiers.
Growth: +67,000 with Mance, plus 12,000 who came to the kingdom in recent moons seeking protection, and 4,000 who grew up within Arctic and enlisted in the army — including 2,900 Wargs with refined abilities and 2,200 mounted on bears and shadow cats.
Giants:
Total: 7,300 soldiers.
Growth: +1,300 coming from outside, consisting of young recruits who completed basic training.
Total Number of Arctican Soldiers: 152.300
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