Falling Like ✸ Jon Snow ✔

56| 𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔠𝔶 𝔭𝔩𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢

north of the wall

— NYMERIA DIDN'T FEEL MUCH LIKE SLEEPING THAT NIGHT. The others slowly but surely fell into their exhaustion, but she remained alert. Perhaps under different circumstances she'd actually be able to feel her exhaustion, and she'd decided she'd probably sleep for days if they ever made it back, but when the dawn broke, her eyes were still fixed calmly and darkly on the dead men. Only the lake stood between them, and that could change at any minute. She'd prefer to be awake when that minute came.

Jon and Jorah were the first to arrive at her side by the island's edge. Jon looked over her features, but her eyes never left where they watched something high in the rock face.

"He's here."

He followed her eyes to find the Night King himself was indeed watching them from above, astride his dead horse. "What's he been doing?"

"Watching us," she replied simply. "He knows it's only a waiting game now."

Jorah breathed out a long huff that appeared in a small, icy cloud before him, nodding. "We'll all freeze soon."

"The water will freeze first." She shook her head. "Maybe if we went after the Walkers, we'd have a chance, but they know that. That's why there's an army standing between us and them."

"There's a raven flying for Dragonstone," Jon spoke with more confidence than he felt. "The dragons are our best chance now."

"No," Beric approached from behind. "There's another." He pointed his sword straight up at the Night King. "Hill him. He turned them all."

Slowly, the others all came to stand alongside them as well while Jon shook his head. "You don't understand."

"The Lord brought you back. He brought me back. No one else. Just us. Did he do it to watch us freeze to death at the edge of the world?"

"Careful, Beric," the Hound warned. "You lost your priest. This is your last life."

"I've been waiting for the end for a long time." He glared out at the dead king. "Maybe the Lord brought me here to find it."

"Every lord I've ever met's been a cunt," the Hound muttered. "Don't see why the Lord of Light should be any different."

Nymeria began pacing, and Jon couldn't tell how long it went on before he heard the sound. They both turned to see the Hound had launched a rock at the dead, knocking one's jaw clean off, but the wight did not move. He muttered under his breath before picking up another rock, only this one fell short.

Jon's eyes widened. Nymeria sucked in a breath as it slid right over where the ice should have been broken. And the wights saw it too.

"Oh, fuck," muttered the Hound.

They drew swords as the first one braved the path across the ice. It held firm. More followed.

Nymeria readied her spear, and the fight began. The numbers were nowhere near even, but the living had the advantage of higher ground and a defendable position.

Although, claiming that they had any advantage at all was a lot like stumbling through an open field in an electrical storm. It was searching for hope where there was none.

There wasn't a moment through any of it to search through the fighting to see who was still alive and who wasn't. They could only fight as hard as possible. Dodge that sword, block that knife. Kill, kill, kill. Aim to kill death with every stroke as it crawled towards you with taunting eyes before it could sink its claws into you first.

Nymeria spun her spear in wide arcs, sweeping wights away, striking them to the icy ground, slashing and stabbing at them with renewed ferocity.

"Fall back!" Jon shouted finally. "Fall back!"