[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Bear Island, 300 AC.

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The fight, if it could even be called that, continued for a while, but as time passed, rapidly, the ironborn were dwindling.

The giants were already inside the city, along with the infantry, clearing everything in front of them without mercy for the enemy. Those who remained were pressed against the walls, cornered.

Obviously, they ran toward the forest that surrounded the fortress, being the best point to protect themselves, even the Mormont soldiers who were watching everything from above interfered, shooting at the ironborn as they ran.

They were full of hatred and bloodlust, arrows rained down on the men even without a direct order from the garrison commander, and was it even necessary? Those bastards had turned the lives of everyone on the island into a true hell.

Not even the foreigners were sparing them, there were men dropping their weapons to the ground, and the arcticans’ response was to send spears into the bodies of the unarmed enemies in an almost cruel manner. There were ironborn kneeling in surrender before the wave of giants, and what happened? Either they were crushed with their bodies breaking under the weight of the giants, or they were simply destroyed by weapons.

There was no mercy, no matter how much they begged.

It was even a cruel massacre, but before the foreigners, they were being treated like this, so why should the people of the island remain silent in the face of all this?! They suffered at the hands of those damned cruel raiders, so why not follow the example of the Arcticans?

And so, they slaughtered as many of the ironborn as they could, in desperation for their lives, being hunted like animals.

Those who survived, reaching the forest, entered the woods, while some were not so lucky when a wolf as giant as a tree leapt onto its first victims, tearing them apart as if they were nothing with its teeth before beginning to hunt them one by one.

The ironborn were certainly in a very bad situation. The only advantage was the hostages they kept there, no more than about 200 of them, who were surrounded by the Arctican cavalry and did not allow the enemy to approach.

Thanks to this, nothing else held the Arcticans back from the massacre. And so it continued.

Lyanna Mormont would remember this for the rest of her life, she saw her men aiming arrows downward, ignoring the cries for help while her men gave a response for everything that had been done against them.

“After everything… We are watching those men die as if it were nothing… In an almost cruel way… Even for them, my lady.” The maester did not fail to express with some caution what they were witnessing.

“No… those bastards massacred people of this island, we have no reason to be merciful to them.” Lyanna said. Her sister was dying in a bed because of those bastards.

“Their commander…” The maester still murmured carefully.

“Taken by that eagle, I’m sure he will no longer be a problem and is either their prisoner or even a captive. Either way, Balon’s brother is with their enemy.” Said the master-at-arms.

“And for us, are they friends or enemies?” the maester murmured carefully.

“I don’t know… but it is already ending… soon we will find out.” Lyanna said. But the people inside the castle, especially those who could not fight like mere soldiers, were celebrating.

The massacre continued for a while, and soon diminished, but that did not mean everyone was dead, soon a search began inside the houses, where they saw both ironborn hiding, and the Wargs searching quickly and reporting, Jon himself was helping with this.

Thus it continued for some time, ironborn begging for their lives before being killed and their cold bodies being thrown onto the ground in front of the house.

“I think that’s enough.” Jon said, satisfied, his men took care of the last ones, in the forests, where hundreds of them managed to escape, they were being killed by Ghost and Nymeria, along with the other animals Jon could control easily, the ironborn were dying all the time.

“We should ask them to open the gates.” Arya said, while Jon nodded. “Let me speak. I’ve been here before and I know Lyanna a little. And you can also save her sister,” she added.

She moved forward, with Jon coming right behind, always keeping an eye on some archer above the walls.

The houses were still being invaded in the city to finish off the remaining scum, but now they no longer needed to worry about it, leaving the task to the rest of the forces.

The ironborn had already been destroyed, both in the western camp and there, where the largest number of men was concentrated. All of them being wiped out.

There were still some in the forests, perhaps not even knowing what was happening there, but they were being hunted by animals. There were also fifty ships stationed at each of the edges of the island, with thousands of men prepared to eliminate any ironborn who appeared.

In any case, Arya moved toward the entrance of the fortress, passing by several bodies left along the way, both of men who tried to move away from the castle and those who tried to reach the walls, before being massacred.

The walls were filled with curious heads peering out, watching Arya calmly ride toward the gate, with Jon right behind, observing through his visor, accompanied by royal guards.

It did not take long for a small little girl to approach the edge of the wall above the gate. The girl stared at her, while all eyes turned upward in silence.

Jon stopped observing around to focus on the girl, analyzing her childish features hardened by the responsibility of commanding her house. It was far too great a responsibility for someone so young.

“You stand before the gates of the seat of House Mormont. Tell me your name and your intentions!” she shouted, in a firm tone.

Arya remained silent for a moment and even looked at Jon, who merely shrugged at that kind of question.

After what they had seen, even the men behind her fell silent, exchanging glances, the castle’s master-at-arms looked at the maester. The latter swallowed dryly.

“Lady, good evening. I believe that question is no longer appropriate. It is more than obvious why they are here,” the maester murmured near the girl’s ears, who widened her eyes before nodding.

“I think you are right,” she murmured, about to reformulate her question, but Arya spoke first.

“Lady Lyanna Mormont,” Arya said, in a clear tone. “I remember you when I visited this castle almost two years ago. I remember your mother and your sisters welcoming me and my family into your hall. I remember your mother saying that you were a strong girl. She praised me far too much, saying that the North was fortunate to have the wolf girl.”

Arya removed her helmet as she spoke, looking directly at the girl.

“I remember using the training yard for us to fight and how I surprised you. I remember trading blows with your sisters, all strong and proud women. But I also remember a little girl who stood at her mother’s feet, a little shy. And now I see that same little girl as a lady, commanding her people in a crisis. Lady Mormont, if your mother is alive, I am certain she will be proud when she hears the stories about you.”

Arya paused briefly before continuing.

“This is my cousin, the King of Arctic. We came here to your aid and also on a military campaign against the Seven Kingdoms. We wish to speak in peace, Lady Mormont, to discuss the future of House Mormont and the future of the North.”

Lyanna watched for a time, in silence. “Open the gates,” she finally said.

“Are you sure, my lady?” The maester seemed cautious, but the master-at-arms shook his head.

“Even if they were enemies, it would only be a matter of time before they brought down the gates. Lady Arya has become quite famous in the North, and she certainly earned the favor and friendship of your mother and your elder sisters. When she visited this place, the Mormont women were very pleased with what she had become after years beyond the Wall. I am certain she would not wish to do harm, she is a Stark of the North, after all.”

“Open the gate,” Lyanna repeated.

No one resisted any longer. Quickly, the men began to move the levers, turning the wheel while several pushed, until the gate began to open.

Arya, Jon, and the royal guards waited until it was completely open. They saw Lyanna descending from the wall, along with her two most trusted men, who waited in the courtyard.

Arya stepped forward, while Jon also removed his helmet.

The courtyard was crowded with civilians. Women, many with children who were not in the best condition, wearing worn and even dirty clothes. House Mormont was poor, very poor, and certainly a war devastating their people did not help.

They were in a precarious situation, thin people, but now all of them had looks of hope and triumph, gazing with admiration at the men entering on horseback, wearing shining armor, stained with blood — including the horses’ armor.

Jon watched the people looking at him, especially at him, studying him with adoration. They had put an end to the oppressors of those people, so such a reaction was natural.

They stopped before Lady Mormont. They dismounted and approached. Arya, already knowing her, stepped forward first and bridged Jon and House Mormont.

“My lady, I see an even more mature girl now, when observing you up close,” Arya began, in a courteous tone.

“Lady Arya, it has been some time,” the girl murmured, a little shy, but maintaining the firmness of someone in command, even if it sounded somewhat childish.

Despite the firm and hard tone, she was inclined to accept Arya, before turning her gaze back to Jon, with curiosity and caution.

“This is my cousin, the one everyone believed to be my brother, but my father told the truth after his death. He is the King of Arctic. He is here to free Bear Island from the ironborn,” Arya announced, while Lyanna stared at him, still with the same curious look.

“We have heard much about you, King of Arctic. You certainly look like a Stark, but your eyes are different. And your name, certainly, is not Stark.”

“I was called Aegon Targaryen, by my uncle and my mother as soon as I was born. But please, I will be Jon of Arctic until the end of my life, since I chose to use this name — the name I built for myself, not the one I inherited,” Jon replied calmly. “And it is a pleasure to meet you, Lyanna Mormont. I heard that your mother gave you that name in honor of my mother. They were friends, once…”

Lyanna nodded. “She told me that, saying that Arya reminded her very much of her.”

Jon opened a slight smile. “It is good to hear that. In any case, we can talk. We have some things to discuss.”

Lyanna looked at the maester and nodded. He took a moment to react, but soon began to move.

“Please, follow me. I will take you inside the castle. We will also perform the guest rite. Bring bread and salt from the kitchen,” he asked the servants.

“Your people are hungry. I will ask that food be brought to the castle gate without needing to enter,” Jon said, turning to one of the royal guards. With just a look, the man nodded and left to carry out the order.

“My sister Jorelle said there was another outpost nearby, before it fell to the Greyjoy,” Lyanna commented.

Jon nodded. “Yes, do not worry about that. We have already sent a force strong enough to be as effective as we were here.”

Lyanna took a deep breath. “Bear Island will never forget what happened today.”

“It was the least I could do.” Jon replied with a slight smile.

They received the bread and salt. Each took a bite before entering the castle.

It did not take long for Lancelot to bring a group of men from the West to check the situation. They found the battlefield crowded with ironborn — a sea of dead bodies — while the Arcticans began moving them to burn them, after digging holes large enough to hold them and setting them on fire.

Lancelot went to the castle after that, while watching his men distribute food. He demanded to be informed as soon as the king was settled.

Meanwhile, Jon was in a chamber inside the castle, along with Lyanna and the others, discussing the actions on Bear Island and its future.

“What exactly do you want from us?” Lyanna asked carefully.

“I am going to unify the Seven Kingdoms together with Arctic. I will make the capital be beyond the Wall, but there will be a single government across the entire continent. Therefore, I ask that House Mormont support me. Swear loyalty to me and to my family. I will bring a new era to the continent, especially to the North.”

“I will make the North depend less on the South. All those contracts between Arctic’s food and the North through Braavos were destroyed by the greed of the lords of the South, incapable of accepting that the North was independent. You will buy food from Arctic freely, without additional taxes, or the food that you yourselves will cultivate from the bounty, since I plan to build a great farm, almost like Arctic, where we produce far more than our people need,” Jon replied calmly.

“I must think about it,” Lyanna said at last.

Jon was not in a hurry. In fact, he did not demand soldiers to follow him south or to recruit them. He was more than prepared to deal with the Seven Kingdoms, especially with two other forces about to enter the continent.

“Very well. I will give you time to decide what to do, Lady Mormont. In any case, I heard that your sister is bedridden and in danger of death.”

Lyanna grew serious and the older voice spoke immediately.

“King of Arctic, I must say that we tried everything to save my elder sister, but unfortunately, she is beyond saving. There is nothing more to be done for her,” said the maester, with a certain displeasure.

He was still assessing how they would deal with the maesters in the future, since Jon had delivered letters and documents, there was something different among them, that look of distrust from Lady Mormont and the others, though nothing that prevented him from continuing to serve the house.

Jon nodded after hearing him.

“I understand. But do not worry. I am quite advanced in medicine, better than any maester in the South. If I may take a look at her, there may still be a chance to save her.”

Lyanna seemed surprised. “Then please, follow me,” she said, almost without thinking, not even consulting her two allies. If they could save her sister, clearly it would be him.

Jon and Arya followed Lyanna down the corridor until they reached a room where the elder sister was. Upon entering, they found the girl lying in bed, her abdomen completely bandaged due to a severe wound.

“Do you think you can save her?” Lyanna asked cautiously.

Jon approached and lightly touched the area near the young woman’s wound, analyzing it.

She had suffered a puncture in the lower part of the lung, fractured ribs, and her stomach had also been pierced. By normal standards, she was beyond saving. Dying slowly. There was no technology at that time capable of saving her — except for Jon, of course.

He grew thoughtful and went to the head of the bed. Under everyone’s gaze, he began to write.

“I want you to get these ingredients for me, they are all on the main ship. We are going to prepare some potions,” Jon said, handing over the list.

He analyzed the case carefully. She could certainly heal with his regeneration, but what would come afterward would need to be treated with alchemy.

“Lancelot is already coming here. Tell him to come here, while you do what I asked,” he ordered a royal guard.

The man nodded and left the room, while Jon approached the young woman’s wounded abdomen once more.

Lyanna was about to protest, but a hand gently touched her arm. It was Arya, who shook her head, indicating she should not interfere. She did not know exactly what Jon was doing.

And so she remained silent.

Everyone in that room — except for those who had already seen Jon do such things — widened their eyes as they saw him begin to glow in a green hue while touching the wounded abdomen, as if he were performing some kind of impossible treatment.

The maester, the master-at-arms, and the other men present stared open-mouthed.

“Look at that… His hands are glowing… He is blessed by the gods,” some whispered softly to one another. Lyanna stood there, seeming hypnotized by the light.

Jon did not care. He remained focused until he completely stabilized her condition.

Shortly after, Lancelot approached, bringing a report. Jon asked him to speak aloud, with Lyanna also listening, who could not help but feel hope upon realizing that another area dominated by the enemy had been destroyed.

“The prisoners are being brought here, where they will be safer. Twenty-three shipments of food and supplies have also been delivered in front of the fortress,” Lancelot reported.

“That is excellent, have someone distribute it wisely among the families here in the castle and the rescued hostages.” Jon gave the order, and his men moved immediately.

“May I know what you are doing? Is this magic?” The maester approached, trembling.

“And if it is, maester, will you try to poison me for it?” Jon looked at him with a challenge, which surprised the maester.

“What?! No!” he said defensively.

Jon did not care about the maester’s defensive tone. “Listen, I know your order hates magic and wants to destroy it with every possible effort, it is no coincidence that you sabotaged the Targaryens over the years, even with Aerys, I know your kind. I sent information about the entire order and its actions to all of Westeros, reporting every manipulated message and command, information about tasks within the order itself, manipulating your lords. You controlled Westeros from behind the scenes, I will put an end to that, do you understand?” Jon said in front of everyone with a tone full of anger.

The maester swallowed hard at that. “In any case, yes, this is magic, I am first cleansing the entire internal area, rebuilding all damaged organs and tissues, after regenerating, I will close the wound, we just need something against a possible infection and to help her body improve, after all there is intense activity in her body for it to contribute to the healing as well.” Jon spoke, setting the maester aside, he merely focused on saving Jorelle Mormont, who was no more than 15 namedays old.

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