Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic – ASOIAF/GOT GOT

[Chapter Size: 3100 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Essos, 296 AC.

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"We are all ready, commander…" A man dressed in an animal-hide cloak, clearly a nobleman due to the quality of his garments and evidently not accustomed to the northern cold, spoke in front of the commander.

"Very well…" The commander replied as his gaze drifted outside the tent, towards the immense northern wall.

All the southern forces, numbering over 15,000 men, had been gathering at the Wall for moons, traveling primarily by ships to the north. Every house that sent its men remained stationed at the Wall, awaiting the final order to proceed beyond it.

Two moons had passed since they began organizing and waiting for everyone to be ready, alongside the awaited orders from the South. Two weeks ago, the commander had received a letter from the king's own hand, granting permission to continue their expedition on a mission to uncover everything about Artica. Hence, they had sent so many men, with the sole exceptions being Dorne and the North itself, which this command viewed as a band of cowards.

"You may go… I'll be heading to speak with the Lord Commander of the Wall." He spoke as the first nobleman exited the tent.

Edric Westerling, the younger brother of Gawen Westerling, had ended up as the most prominent noble from the western houses to command this small army. He left his tent, mounted a horse, and headed towards Castle Black with several men accompanying him.

They soon passed through the entire camp, made up of thousands of men trying to keep warm. Even though they were not yet in the harsher cold beyond the Wall, the conditions were unbearable, and Edric sensed the inefficiency of the men, most of whom had never been to the North, much less this far north. It made him lament not having northern warriors, but Lord Stark seemed resolute in defying the king's orders.

He reached the walls of Castle Black, which stood before the Wall. As they approached the enormous gate guarded by Night's Watchmen, the guards, upon seeing the approaching group and their banner, swiftly opened the gate.

The Night's Watch could not complain about having so many men near their gate, as these past two moons had seen a generous supply of resources brought by the visitors to the order. Now, they needed the Watch's assistance. It was peculiar, but any aid was welcome, even if it was rare for the Watch to be of use to the King of Westeros.

Upon entering the courtyard, Lord Commander Mormont approached, accompanied by the new maester of the Castle, Maester Harrion. Harrion seemed to despise being there but had no choice but to obey his superiors when they sent him to the far end of the continent. At least he was not in the Citadel, where Jon had committed the massacre and looted the maesters' order, something that terrified him, knowing that this monster could very well be his neighbor.

"Lord Edric Westerling," Mormont greeted, approaching as Edric dismounted, acknowledging him with a rough, hardened voice like one used to living in the North.

"Lord Commander Mormont," Edric nodded in return and continued, "You must already know why I'm here. We'll be holding a meeting to decide everything one last time," Edric stated.

Mormont nodded as he entered the castle and ascended to his solar, along with Edric and the maester. They were now seated around the table, with Jeor facing the southern nobleman.

"So, everything is ready, then?" Mormont inquired.

"Yes. We intend to leave tomorrow. Will you be able to open the Wall's gate for us?" Edric asked.

"Yes, of course, I will do that. But in any case, you need more than just that, don't you?" Mormont looked at him.

"Yes, we need men from the Watch, as we've discussed for moons. We need men who are accustomed to walking that land. We'll be at a severe disadvantage, so we'd appreciate some assistance from the Night's Watch," Edric said.

"Yes, but I can't force them to go as you can, but we'll do what we can. Why don't you accompany me? Let's have a word with all of them," Mormont responded.

Edric nodded, following Mormont to the hall. Mormont instructed some men in the corridors to summon everyone for a meeting while Edric Westerling, along with other men, accompanied him to the hall and took seats at the main table, watching as the hall gradually filled up.

Edric noticed one of the men entering, Benjen Stark. "You know that Lord Stark's brother could be quite useful to us, don't you?" he said, glancing to the side at Lord Mormont.

"He could be, after all, he is the uncle of that boy… but that's not my decision to make. Benjen is a great man of the Watch, and I won't command him against his will," Mormont replied.

"But this is a royal order; he should obey…" Edric muttered, hoping that Lord Mormont would agree with him, but Mormont merely shook his head.

"Yes, it's a royal order, but we're fortunate that the Watch is an independent institution, as far as I know," Jeor said calmly.

Edric appeared dissatisfied but said nothing further, merely waiting for the meeting to begin. The murmurs quickly began to rise in the small hall as it continued to fill, with people glancing towards the main table. Some pointed at the southern nobleman, while others even whispered the name "Benjen" occasionally.

Until Lord Commander Mormont tapped his mug on the table several times, causing the discussions to quiet down and eventually cease entirely as everyone turned their attention to him, knowing he would proceed with the start of the meeting.

"As you all know, every man on this side of the Wall is preparing to advance northward. This is Lord Edric Westerling, who has taken command following a recommendation from Tywin Lannister," he said, while some murmured at the mention of the Lannister name, but no one spoke out. "He will be leading the army starting tomorrow," Jeor announced.

The murmurs grew louder; no one had expected it to be so soon. "And they want guides beyond the Wall, am I correct?" spoke Alliser Thorne in his bitter tone.

"Exactly, Ser Alliser. That's why I want to call upon some of you to find Artica," Jeor stated.

Everyone exchanged glances at this moment, a mix of fear and confusion in their eyes. No one had ever ventured to the kingdom of Jon, which lay far beyond even a journey to the Fist of the First Men; no ranger had gone so far and returned alive.

Some believed they were killed by wildlings, while others thought the Articans themselves were capturing them or enslaving them.

"I'll go!" someone raised a hand.

"Are you sure? This seems like madness…"

"Why wouldn't I? Have you seen the number of people out there? We can fight against anything," the man replied with confidence.

"I've lived a long time in the northern forests… I can help!" another person offered.

"That king with the ships is in southern Essos, isn't he?" another asked.

"Yes… even if he returns, we have a few moons before he does, if that's what you fear. Our mission is to locate the kingdom and relay information to the king. I'm sure this could benefit the Watch as well, don't you agree, Lord Commander Mormont?" Edric asked him.

The Lord Commander nodded, though he preferred to remain neutral towards that group. After all, they were far too powerful for the Watch to have as enemies, even on their own land. He believed they could be as destructive as they had shown themselves to be. He thought this especially considering that there had already been conflicts with Artica… Even the activity of wildlings had dropped to 40% of its usual rate in recent years, despite a growing number of them being sighted near Hardhome and others behaving quite strangely close to the Wall.

"I can be useful!" another man said, raising his hand. "We received some information from wildlings we captured a few moons ago. They claimed to have seen Artica, a great kingdom with a high wall and a giant tree at its center," he spoke from the middle of the hall.

"I don't think this is safe. What if they truly are as the rumors say, blessed by the Old Gods?" a northerner exclaimed, his voice tinged with fear.

"Old Gods? Blasphemy! They attacked the Seven; they deserve all divine punishment, and we must deliver it! I'll go too!!" shouted a southerner.

"Calm down, men!" Jeor Mormont banged on the table once more to restore order. When everything settled down, more and more men began raising their hands, volunteering to help without any talk of religion.

Alliser Thorne was observing each of them. His gaze fell on a man who remained silent, sitting in a corner with his companions.

"Why aren't you volunteering, Benjen Stark? I'm sure you would be quite useful!" Alliser said, looking directly at him.

"I don't intend to participate in this, Ser Alliser. I thought you already knew that!" Benjen replied coldly.

"Why not? I'm sure the uncle of the wildling-lover would be a powerful card to play against the wildlings on leashes!" Alliser mocked.

"Stop provoking, Alliser. I won't force him to go. If you don't want to join, Benjen, don't go," Jeor Mormont intervened firmly from his table, and the room fell silent once more.

The discussion continued after that, but Benjen remained quiet. In the end, a total of 30 rangers volunteered to join the expedition.

"Very well. I believe this will be enough for your march," Jeor said, and Edric nodded, turning to everyone.

The man stood at that moment, addressing those who would accompany him. "We'll depart tomorrow morning, so be ready. In the meantime, I'll return to the camp to enjoy one last night of warmth on this side of the Wall," Edric remarked, drawing a few laughs from the men as he exited, accompanied by Jeor Mormont to the exit of Castle Black and then headed towards the camp.

The next day, everyone was prepared as the camp was dismantled. The men began marching through Castle Black, with the gates open, both the castle's and the Wall's. The Night's Watch observed from around Castle Black as the procession of over 16,000 men advanced with supply wagons and mounted soldiers.

Some members of the Watch, positioned atop the Wall, watched the movement on the northern side. "Hey, Benjen, do you think your nephew will be okay with this?" a man asked, approaching Benjen, who was also observing the men 200 meters below them.

"He's not even here. He's traveling to southern Essos as far as I know. Where exactly, I don't know, but it's a sea voyage," Benjen replied calmly.

He knew that Jon was with Arya as well. He had received a letter from his brother informing him that Lord Manderly had found Jon and Arya in Braavos and that Arya's situation was better than they could have imagined.

"And do you think they'll find the wildlings' kingdom?" another man murmured cautiously nearby.

"They live better than us to be called wildlings. And do you really think you can bring down Artica just like that? And Jon would leave his land without any men? There must be thousands of them waiting for this. I didn't recommend anyone to go. If they get into a conflict, it'll be a massacre. These southern soldiers don't know the North beyond the Wall and they don't know how to fight here. Their battlefield is under a sunny sky in a field of flowers or large plains; they may have an advantage in the terrain they are on now, but once they enter the forests and the landscapes of this land, they'll all be lost. In a fight, they'd lose even to the wildlings," Benjen spoke as they walked.

Hours passed until the entire group was north of the Wall, proceeding under Edric Westerling's leadership, alongside the members of the Night's Watch who accompanied him, advancing towards the North with the army marching behind them.

Meanwhile, a three-eyed raven observed everything from the nearby forest, analyzing the situation and noting every detail it saw.

"So, it seems they've begun to act." In another, more distant place… A voice was heard calmly in a place lit only by a few torches.

Brynden Rivers sighed after ending his warg. He couldn't extend his ravens beyond the Wall due to the magical protection of the Barrier that had been created many years ago. Not even Jon had that ability; for some reason, the Wall disrupted their powers.

However, things were different on this side of the Wall, where he observed the southern army from various houses, with their banners, beginning their march towards the north.

He sighed and left the room he called home, which was the shell of the Grand Weirwood where Jon had lived for many years. Walking through the sacred grove, he saw several Children of the Forest occupying the place, dancing, praying, and playing. Even his own small children played there, learning alongside their mothers since their births, as the species was gradually growing in number.

Brynden passed them and entered the streets of Artica, quickly requesting a horse, a request promptly fulfilled since he was one of the kingdom's ministers. The city was bustling, with people going to work, chatting, buying, laughing, and even drinking. Giants roamed the streets calmly while people made an effort not to stand in their way, yet it all seemed normal, just like any other day there. Wargs guided their animals, university students ran with their books, soldiers, mothers with their children, and all kinds of people moved through the streets, consisting of the three most common species: humans, giants, and even dwarves.

The dwarves were the noisiest, something that was easily noticeable as Brynden walked alongside one of the rivers cutting through the city. A boat full of dwarves passed by, and they shouted, sang, and drank, celebrating their day off from the Forges.

Ignoring the commotion, Brynden proceeded to the king's castle, being greeted by the royal guards and servants upon entry.

"The queen is in the garden with Minister Aemon, Minister Brynden," a royal guard informed Brynden, who requested to be escorted and followed once the man began to show the way.

The garden was spacious and could be seen filled with dragons. Despite only two moons having passed since their birth, they were growing rapidly and were already the size of dogs, surrounding the royal family. The largest space, however, was occupied by a giant dragon lying with its head on the ground, eyes open, watching as if caring for the smaller draconic creatures.

Seryna, the Queen of Artica, was seated on a bench next to Aemon, who was holding little Lyanna as she tried to reach the dragons on the ground. The king's son, young Jon, was in his mother's lap. Brynden thought of the child as soon as he saw him; recently, the Children of the Forest had been calling him Loki. No one understood why, but the boy seemed quite comfortable and calm, always attentive to everything, observing the dragons, his sister, Aemon, his mother, and even Eragon with his two-colored eyes, which reminded Brynden of his old lover and half-sister, Shiera Seastar.

Shiera had been a woman who brought joy, anger, and jealousy to Brynden. When he was at court, amassing more power than ever as the Hand of his brother nearly a hundred years ago, she never wanted to marry him.

She preferred to make him jealous while she slept with other men, but always gave him hope, keeping him close. Now, he saw that he had been a fool. He didn't know what had happened to her, but he suspected that after her departure to Essos, she had likely died there. Meanwhile, he himself had been destined to die beyond the Wall but ended up becoming something else at that moment—the Three-Eyed Raven.

"Brynden," Aemon remarked, while Seryna also looked at him, with the royal guards standing back to avoid disturbing the dragons. Seryna might not have the blood of dragons, but she couldn't get too close to the creatures. Even so, she allowed her children to be there; it was obviously healthy for them, and Jon wanted that for them.

Seryna missed Jon, but she understood the importance of that trade journey and also had a special mission: to care for the son she had always wanted with the man she loved and to care for his other daughter, whom she considered her own. She was fully dedicated to motherhood.

"My queen," Brynden greeted with a nod, then turned to Aemon and greeted him as well. He glanced at the dragons before returning to Seryna. "My apologies, Queen Seryna, for my sudden visit, but I need to inform you that the South has begun to act, and there are 16,000 men coming this way," he reported.

"16,000? How long do you think it will take for them to reach here?" Aemon asked.

"No Night's Watch ranger has ever come close to Artica all these years, so they don't know the way. They might manage with the help of wildlings, but even if they do, it will take a few moons," Brynden replied, turning to the queen. "In the king's absence, meetings are taking place among the ministers regarding this matter, as it concerns the safety of Artica, and I fear that you must attend, my queen," Brynden requested.

Seryna nodded. "Very well, I'll do so in my husband's name, but he made one thing very clear," she said, glancing at Eragon. "If Artica faces an attack, Eragon is authorized to strike. Just ask Ducken to prepare the troops; 16,000 men aren't a band of messengers—this is a direct assault from the South, and we must respond as such." She replied, imagining what Jon would have done.

The ministers present nodded. The dragon kept its blue gaze on the smaller dragons surrounding it, which were even trying to climb onto it. Occasionally, it would release a puff of frost, which immediately irritated the other dragons, who protested at the larger one, as they were all fire dragons without exception.

No one watching the larger dragon, even in this playful moment, could ignore that this creature could become a lethal killer of thousands in the near future.

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Raccoon Here:

Loki is a development that drew me to the eldest son, after all, he is the son of a giant, just like in mythology.

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