The pain was unbearable. His frozen hand burnt like fire as it clasped around her throat, Â she wanted to grasp at it to wretch it away. But as his eyes met hers Arya felt that sense of calmness take over her once more as the red womanâs words kept repeating over and over in her mind. Blue eyes. She Continued staring into the Night Kingâs eyes as she dropped her dagger out of her hand. Â she watched him follow the movement of the blade knowing he could do nothing to stop her catching the dagger with her free hand. When she felt the dagger sink deep into his chest she finally allowed her own eyes to close. The Night Kingâs body shattered in an instant and she was falling. Â It was only through all of her training that she managed to land on her knees instead of in a crumpled heap on the ground. Arya gasped for breath as she steadied herself back onto her feet. she felt even more disoriented than before as the Night Kingâs men were shattering all around her and Bran. Their screams filling the godswood, then, silence.
Arya kept a tight grip on her dagger as she watched the darkness prepared for another wave of attacks ignoring the voice in the back of her head whispering that it was over. They didnât know if killing the Night King would stop the dead. However, when she saw that the dead werenât rising she loosened her grip and turned towards her brother. She watched him as he sat there eyes unblinking, and she couldnât help but wonder what it was he was actually seeing. She and Sansa had talked at lengths about what his being the three-eyed raven meant and Arya wouldnât lie to herself there were times when it felt like their brother was gone.
Arya took a weak step towards him, then another, exhaustion setting deep within her bones. Â she knelt in front of him checking to see if he had been injured during the battle. When she could see no visible wounds she sighed in relief, this seemed to bring Bran out of his own mind he watched her for a moment before speaking
âI told you itâd be wasted on a cripple.â Â
Arya couldnât remember ever laughing this hard.
Jon stood there for a moment after the dragon had crumpled. His heart beating dangerously fast as his mind raced. He had jumped out in front of Viserion out of desperation and instinct. The need to get past the dead dragon stronger than his fear of dying. Yet, when the dragons final fiery blow stopped short and its body falling It felt like time had frozen. He watched as bodies all fell to the ground unmoving. What had happened? What did it mean? Why wasnât he dead? Then all of a sudden Jon thought of Bran. a wave of renewed strength surged through him as he turned away from the dragon running as fast as he could towards the godswood. Fear and hope both fighting for dominance over his mind as he thought of all the reasons why the battle could have stopped so suddenly. As he broke through the trees of the godswood, Longclaw raised high in the air ready to face whatever lay before him, he was not prepared for the laughter that broke through the night.
Stopping in his tracks Jon can only watch in confusion, as Arya crouched down on the ground near Bran was laughing uncontrollably. Slowly he approached, his boots crunching the snow on the ground alerting his presence to both of his siblings. Â Bran looked towards him a ghost of a smile playing on his face. While Arya quicker than Jon could even blink had ceased laughing, jumping back up in a protective stance in front of Bran her dagger glinting and refracting light as the sun broke through the trees in that exact moment. Jon watched Arya who having recognized that it was their brother standing before them lowered her own blade. Jon made to step towards her but was stopped as he watched her body spasm violently before she fell to the ground once more. Â Running towards her Jon scooped her up into his arms fearing the worst.
âSheâll be alright.â Â Branâs words caused a sense of relief to flood through Jon as he looked down at his favorite sibling. Â Noticing the wound on her head Jon pulled her closer towards his chest. Jon looked out past them seeing all of the dead surrounding them and his earlier thoughts came back to him.
âWere you able to defeat him, Bran? With your abilities?â Bran sat there quietly watching Jon as Jon struggled to answer his own questions
âDid Daenerys stop him? Was it the dragon fire?â Jon looked around but saw no evidence of any destruction caused by Drogonâs flames. Turning back towards his brother Jon couldn't help but feel as though Bran was looking through his soul seeing beyond the godswood, beyond Winterfell, beyond even the realm. Finally, Bran spoke.
âDragon fire couldnât stop Him.
âWas it you and your powers?â
âThen how did you do it, Bran, how did you stop him?â
âI didnât have to stop him. Valyrian steel could.â
Valyrian but how? Who-â Jonâs voice caught in his throat as  Branâs stare shifting from him to Arya so suddenly that Jon thought she must have moved but when his eyes lingered on Aryaâs hand and what she was holding the truth finally came to Jon.
âShe stuck him with the pointy end.â Â the memory from all those years ago burned bright in his mind as he pulled Arya even closer to him. Jon was still very confused and had a thousand new question racing in his mind, all centering around his youngest sister, but at that very moment, he couldnât bother to worry. They were alive and it was because of Arya his sweet little sister had saved the world.
Jon unable to push Bran and carry Arya sat back down on the ground knowing someone would come looking for them soon, hopefully, Sansa. Sansa! Jon made to speak but Bran spoke first as if knowing and probably having known what Jon was going to say.
âSansa is safe, the dead rose in the crypts but she is alright, and coming towards us as we speak.â Â Jon could only nod in reply, the thought that none of them had considered the possibility of the dead waking in the crypts terrified him. But he sent a silent prayer to the old gods that Sansa was safe, and on her way to them.
Sansa and Tyrion both stepped forward as the last wight dropped to the floor. Both waited for something to happen, and when it didnât as if reading each other's minds they made their way to the top of the stair and towards the ancient doors of the crypt.  Sansa felt her hands shaking at uncertainty what if this was a trap? How much worse would it be once she opened those doors? Even if it wasnât a trap how much worse would it be once she opened those door and saw all they had lost? She felt warmth encase her hand and looked down seeing that Tyrion had taken her hand in his, steadying it. She caught his eyes and saw that though the same fears haunted him, the need to know what was going on far outweighed that fear. And for a second time that night she thought that perhaps they should have stayed married, their marriage would have been on equal footing. Both so similar in mind yet still different whispered in the back of her mind at the thought of the dragon queen, but she pushed the dark thought aside now was not the time. Nodding to Tyrion she undid the lock while he began to push and soon both stood outside the crypts.
 Walking slowly Aryaâs dragon glass dagger still clutched in her hand they make their way through all of the dead.  The sight of all the body laid atop one another, brought Sansa back to the battle of the bastards of how they had barely escaped death then and now once more.  They make it all the way past the first keep when they finally see the living.  Brienne and Jaime are both leaning against the walls of the battlements catching their breath and both seemed surprised to see that the fight was over. Podrick sat next to them wiping the sweat from his brow. Tyrion the moment he spotted Jaime began to drift towards him only stopping when Sansa whose hand he was still holding didnât follow, her own body turned the other way eyes trailing towards the godswood. Knowingly Tyrion gave Sansaâs hand one last squeeze before stepping away. Neither having to say anything as they parted both intending to be with their own families once more.
A sense of optimistic hope flitted around in her chest as she rushed towards the godswood if they had won that meant that Bran had survived, and as she passed more and more people she could recognize the more she was sure Jon and Arya had too. The sun had risen by the time Sansa got to the godswood. The sunâs rays hitting the Weirwood tree in the way that its red leaves seem to glow. Father used to come out here and watch the sunrise she thought suddenly. Sansa slowed to a stop as she thought back to all the times she had found her father sitting beside the Weirwood. Â She wished she could go back to that time and sit beside her father once more and just enjoy the beauty and magic of the woods as he had done, enjoyed the quiet time sitting there beside him. Well, Sansa thought as she finally spotted Bran and the back of Jonâs head underneath the tree at least I can share in its beauty now. Â Sansa made to step forward towards her brothers when a different shade of red caught her eyes. Theon tears pooled in her eyes as she knelt down to the ground looking at the body of Theon Greyjoy before her. She looked helplessly over the boy who had been through so much with her, Theon, the boy she had grown up with, Theon, the boy who had betrayed their brother, and finally Theon, the man who had helped her escape. Sansa felt a hand on her shoulder looking up she was surprised to see that Jon had walked over to her.
âJon itâs Theon heâsâ
âI know Sansa. He protected Bran though, protected his brother.â Sansa could only nod tears leaving frozen tracks on her face, however, she ignored them instead she brought a hand over Theonâs eyes closing them and she whispered a thank you to him, kissing his cold forehead letting unspoken words hang in the air. When she was ready to stand Jon helped her up, bringing her into a hurried hug. It was over his shoulder that she finally spotted Arya laid up against Branâs chair. For a moment Sansa felt a whole new sense of dread wash over her but was relieved to see their sisterâs chest rising and falling in a steady fashion. Â When Jon stepped back from the hug they made their way back towards Bran, Sansa leaning down to hug him as well. As she pulled back from the hug Sansa studied him for a bit before asking (though even to her it sounded more like a command.) âWe won? The Night Kingâs been defeated?â Â Bran nodded and Sansa felt herself smile.
As she wheeled Bran out of the godswood and Jon carried Arya alongside her she listened as Bran told of how Arya defeated the Night King. Jon couldnât help but looked down towards their sister in pure wonder. But Sansa was not surprised, she knew of all the amazing things that Arya could do, of all the things Arya had done. It only seemed natural that her brave, strong, fierce sister would be the one to stop the Night King. She said this much to Jon and Bran causing Jon to look between the two obviously wondering just how much he missed while away, but heâll have to wait Sansa thought. For now, they would rest, and after they would begin to rebuild. Â It would be a long road to recover from the battle but they would make it through.
They were Starkâs after all and as they walked together back towards the castle their father's words played like a sweet melody in her head. âThe lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.â
