Chapter Text
The rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky. Brandon smiled, glancing at the Golden Fingers of Sun lighting up the Sky. A Sight he had longed to see, a sight that inspired hope and courage. Brandon closed his eyes, outstretched his arms and felt the warmth of the Sun wash over him. For 100 years he had been waiting for this sight. 100 years since that Catastrophic day, the day that started an endless Winter.
Brandon’s smile faded, the memories of that day and the carnage that followed, were too painful to recollect. Memories soaked in blood. The Blood of his enemies, friends and his own Sons. Edward, Rickard, Jon, Edmund, Benjen, Dorren, Alaric, Roderick and even young Cregan. There was also his only daughter, Jocelyn. Alive, but lost. The only one left with him now was his Granddaughter, Lyarra. Once he dreamed that his descendants would rule Westeros, as Kings. He dreamed of establishing a House, like his cousins. House Stark. But those dreams were now nothing more than fond memories. All his Sons and Grandsons were with the Gods now.
He looked up at the enormous Stepped tower, reaching into the skies. The Tallest structure built by any man, anywhere. My Greatest Creation, yet. In his 623 years of life, he traveled the length and the breadth of Westeros. Creation was what he was good at. He built Storms End, to help House Durrandon and to prevent a war between Men and Children. But he failed to create his own house. Failed to create something that would have saved his family. At the end of his long life, all he was left with was pain, regret and Duty.
Yes, Duty. A lone tear escaped Brandon’s eye and flowed into his graying beard. I Must fulfill my duty. He composed himself and walked to the Hightower. He stopped before the head of a dead Dragon. The Beast’s head was enormous, its red dead eye was half as wide as he was tall. Brandon saw himself in that decaying eye. A man dressed in black, carrying a great sword. The perfect image of a warrior from legends, if not for his slumped shoulders. But he had a duty. He rounded the Corpse and marched forward.
There were many more corpses around him. Most were Men. Some were men who died today. Many were men and women who died long ago, in a place far away. Even death did not bring peace for those poor souls. Dead decaying corpses were all around him. One corpse was melting, as fast as ice on a burning plate. White Walker. Its flesh was already gone. Its bone was as pale as milk glass, glowing with a faint light like the Ice Moon. The stench of Death was nauseating. Brandon marched on, the Long Night was over, but his mission was not.
Brandon walked off the winch, out onto the Crown of the Hightower. The place where men lit the Fires. It was large. Enough to hold ten men side by side from the metal bars to the dropping oblivion. A figure on Black and red stood ahead of him. Their leader, the man who won them the Battle for Dawn. His long Silver-Gold hair was tied in a Bun. He was donning his Black, Dragonsteel armor and his Dragonsteel Sword was strapped to his waist. Azor Ahai. Their Savior. Once his sworn enemy, now his closest ally. A Screech cut through the silence of the air. A great Red Dragon was soaring in the skies. For most he was the savior from the East, the legendary Azor Ahai. Brandon was one of the few who knew him as Uthor Amai.
Uthor turned, and glanced towards him, a smile blossomed in his face. Even after all these years, he looked young. His short silver beard was neatly trimmed, though his once fine clothing was scorched and stained with Blood. He looked as regal and kingly as he always did. Some common folk took him for a God, a man sent by the Gods to end the Long Night. A Man of Hope.
“A Beautiful Day, isn’t it Brandon?” Uthor asked. His voice calm, deep and regal.
Brandon smiled and nodded. The smile on Uthor’s face faded, replaced with regret and sadness. “The First one in a Century years.”
“All of us make mistakes Uthor.” Bandon Said, “You have repented for your sins. You helped us fix the skies and led us to victory in this war. Dawn has bloomed because of you.”
“All these deaths, tragedies could have been avoided.” Uthor Whispered. His eyes gleaming. “I could have prevented it all.”
“Yes, you could have.” Barandon was a man of Practicality. “Dwelling on what could have been will not bring us anything, but pain and suffering. And do not undervalue the good you have done Uthor.”
Brandon looked at his Son-in-Law, “You brought hope back in my daughter’s life.”
Uthor looked up at the sky and smiled, “She would have given birth by now. I am glad that our Child was born in the Light. I must return soon and meet my child.” He seemed very excited. Brandon’s smile died, Dread filled him. He dreaded this moment for a long time. He had hoped that this moment would never come. But it did, and he must fulfill his duty. Brandon reached for his back and pulled out his sword, Ice.
It was one of a kind, forged from a fallen star. It was as pale as milkglass, and in his hands it had a light silvery glow to it. The sword he wielded to end the Long Night, the sword that inspired Hope, the sword that reminded his followers of Dawn. Its edges were as sharp as ever. He pulled the Sword completely out and pointed it at his Son-in-Law, the man his daughter loved.
“That will not happen, my boy. I’m Sorry”. Confusion and Sadness filled Uthor’s face.
“Why?”, begged Uthor, “The War is Over, we fulfilled the Oath to the the Children of the Forest.”
“You have, but not me”, Brandon suppressed his emotions. Hardened his voice. Forgive me, Jocelyn. “This is what they always demanded. This has always been my Mission.”
The Confusion and Pain in his face turned to Anger. “You Betrayed me.”
“No, I never mentioned my true mission.” whispered Brandon.
“Very well then, ” Uthor said, his voice filled with determination, “Let’s end this. My wife will not be happy, but I will do what I must.”
“So will I”
Uthor drew his sword, a dark gray dragonsteel sword, with rippled pattern. It was just as deadly as his Ice. Brandon held his sword in both hands and took the proper fighting Stance. Uthor's sword caught ablaze, burning as bright as the sun.
The two men rushed forward and Swung their blades. The Clash of Steel on Steel filled the air. Brandon held a defensive position, parrying Uthor’s aggressive attacks. Uthor cut and slashed and stabbed, but Brandon blocked it all.
Defeating Uthor in a prolonged fight was impossible, and Brandon knew it. Uthor had a tendency of given into blind rage and Brandon must capitalize on it if he wanted to win. He raised his sword and blocked an Attack to his face. They both stood in that stance, trying to overpower each other. Heat from Uthor’s blade was unbearable, but Brandon stood firm.
Through his brute Strength, Brandon pushed Uthor back and before his goodson could reach he slashed at him. Uthor took five steps back, before composing himself. Blood was flowing down from Azor Ahai’s face, and the tip of Brandon’s milky pale sword was coated in Blood. It wasn’t a fatal attack, but it was all he needed. Blood had Power. Azor Ahai was the most powerful Sorcerer, the most powerful King, his blood had truly great powers.
Brandon used that blood and started Binding the air around his sword. As Azor Ahai took a step forward, Brandon slashed. The wind that was created from the tip of his Sword hit the Great Warrior. And like a blow from a Warhammer, Azor Ahai was flung off the Hightower.
“Arrax”, Azor Ahai called out as he fell from the Great Tower. It wasn’t over, Brandon’s mission wasn’t over.
A Giant Red Shadow flew towards the Earth. The wind that originated from the Dragon’s dive almost knocked Brandon off the Tower. But he stood firm. The Trap was set, and Azor Ahai walked right into it. Just Moments later, the Beast came up and his Son-in-Law was standing atop its Head, still wielding his Burning Dragonsteel sword, his Silver Gold hair flapping in the wind. Azor Ahai and his Dragon, Arrax, rose up in the sky. To the perfect position, from where the Dragon could burn Brandon.
Brandon warged the Dragon and took control of its body. He could feel the Beast trying to escape, trying to fight, but it was useless.
Ahhhooooooooooo
Brandon jumped back to his own skin. The Dragon was spooked and Azor Ahai was using the Dragonbinder Horn to calm the great Red Dragon. It was the Perfect opportunity, the one he had been waiting for.
Gods help me. Brandon reached out to his own Blood. Azor Ahai was powerful, but so was Brandon Stark. He was the King of Winter. Brandon, amassed power inside him. He pointed his sword to the Dragon and Summoned the Heavens.
Lighting Struck the tip of his Blade. He caught the Metal bar to his side, lest be thrown off the Tower to his doom. He heard the Dragon’s pained Screech, Smoke filled his vision. Boiling Liquid hit his exposed skin. Dragon’s Blood. Dragons were Fire made flesh, and its blood burnt his Skin. Brandon clenched his teeth and endured it. Memories flooded him. Memories of his Son, Jon Stark, being Cooked alive in Dragon fire. Is this what you endured my Son?. Brandon pushed those nightmares away and focused on his Mission.
He opened his eyes and saw the Giant beast crashing into the Tower’s metal crown, with a Gaping hole in its chest. With one final groan, the Giant Dragon slid off the Tower’s top and plummeted to the Ground. It seemed that Azor Ahai had jumped before the Dragon fell, and watched with pain and his beloved Dragon fell a Thousand feets, to her Death.
Azor Ahai looked at Brandon, his face twisted and contorted in pure, uncontrolled rage. He let loose a Scream and rushed towards Brandon with his burning Sword. It took everything Brandon had to just parry those attacks. He was slashed at multiple places, smoke rising from his wounds. Azor Ahai backed him to the end of the Tower, one step back and Brandon would fall a Thousand feets, to his death. It was time. Forgive me, Daughter.
Brandon warged into Azor Ahai himself. It was like jumping into a lake of Burning, Molten Metal. It was just a Moment, but the most painful moment of his life. Brandon didn’t lose his composure, but his opponent did. He capitalized and Drove his sword right through his Son-in-Law’s heart. Shock was written all over Azor Ahai’s face. He was wearing a Dragonsteel armor. Even the best Castle forged Steel sword would not have made a scratch on it, but his Sword was different, and he had to put all his strength behind that thrust.
Blood spilled from Azor Ahai’s mouth. Brandon pulled his sword out of his Son-in-Law’s chest, blood pouring out of the hole in his heart. Ice drank the Blood.
“I don’t regret what I did, my boy. This was always the Endgame”, Brandon's voice was as cold as Ice. Azor Ahai dropped to his knees, his breath was ragged, he coughed up blood and fell, face down to the floor.
“Jocelyn”, whispered Uthor. That was the final word of Azor Ahai, the Savior of Humanity, the Champion of Light. Brandon looked at the Corpse of the man his daughter loved. The man who gave her, his life and soul. He didn’t like what he did, but this was necessary.
He heard the Winch. Someone was coming. Brandon turned to face the intruder, it was Eldric Dayne. The young man looked Horrified, his haunted purple eyes found Brandon.
“You Betrayed him”, the young Lord’s voice was filled with Accusation. Eldric was judging him.
“It was what the Children of the Forest demanded.”, said Brandon.
Eldric looked confused, then realization dawned in his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because you wouldn’t have been able to do what was necessary.”, Brandon explained.
Eldric opened his mouth, but Brandon cut him off.
“We need to go North and find my Daughter.”.
“Then what?”, asked Eldric Dayne.
“Then I Build a Wall. Build my Greatest Creation, yet”