Chapter Text
..Hardhome was decimated. There was no kinder way to put it. The gate was a shambles. The council building leveled. The docks broken. Clothing, tents, every imaginable item… scattered everywhere. No living soul had been there since the Night King had attacked the Free Folk as they prepared to board ships headed South.
Jon and Tormund had ridden from their most recent camp to the place that had once been home to over 100,000 Free Folk. The intent was to see how inhabitable it was. It wasn't. Not without a tremendous amount of repairs and clean up.
They relayed this to the Free Folk. Everyone was agreeable to making camp nearby and starting the work. Hardhome was once theirs, and it was time to take it back.
All the wood was saved to make houses, cloth saved for clothing and tents. As they restored their city, nothing was wasted. Some of the young children didn't remember Hardhome, but the older children and the adults did. It once stretched all the way to the horizon.
The bag of dragon glass daggers was eventually found in the wreckage of the old council building, where all the tribe leaders would meet. It was to be kept in the new council building, to keep alive the memories of those who died fighting the dead
Jon and Tormund and all who were able, worked tirelessly for months. Hardhome was an ideal place to settle, because it was close by the Shivering Sea on one side and the Frostfang mountains on the other.
With Jon and Tormund as their leaders and a place to call home, the Free Folk finally began to thrive. Babies were born and their numbers increased. Tormund took a wife, but Jon never did.
He never felt he could truly love again after losing Ygritte. He questioned to himself whether or not he had ever loved Daenarys. At the time, he thought he had, but more time had passed since her rule had ended with his dagger. He knew he could never replace his feisty redhead, even with the Mother of Dragons. Even in his most intimate moments with Daenarys, he'd seen Ygritte's face. Was it love or just lust and a strong desire to save the north?
From their location on Storrold's point, they could see every ship coming through that portion of the Shivering Sea. When a ship with black sails was seen docked a ways out from the harbor, it attracted attention. It was there for several days.
Free Folk who had been around a while knew it didn't mean anything good. Slavers from Essos sometimes raided the villages of the Free Folk.
Jon's little cabin was closer to the mountains, a small distance from the harbor. He thought he'd seen movement in the Frostfangs before the sun had gone down, and assigned several men to keep watch at the Harbor and near the mountains.
He'd been asleep for a few hours when he heard noises by the entrance. When he opened his eyes, before he could even reach for Longclaw, the tip of a spear was under his chin. Grey Worm stood next to his bed, hate in his eyes.
"You killed my queen. Now I kill you."
Jon tried to get up, but another Unsullied put the point of his spear against his chest. He reached for his sword, but it was gone. There were four soldiers in his room. He was outnumbered.
Grey Worm had spent the last several months sailing back to Westeros and tracking down Jon. He knew he'd been sent to Castle Black, so he and a crew of 30 Unsullied went there first, then traveled north. When he saw the mountains surrounding most of Hardhome, he decided to sail into the Harbor. Half of the Unsullied stayed behind in the mountains to watch and learn Jon's location and routine. When they met up with Grey Worm, they shared what they knew. They'd learned where his cabin was located and when he usually came and went.
Now he had his target. He'd already passed Longclaw to the other Unsullied behind him. He pushed the tip of his spear into Jon's throat and cut it. Then he looked into Jon's eyes.
"You thought Unsullied let you go so easy? You escape Unsullied wrath then, but Torgo Nudo know Unsullied come back."
Jon couldn't breathe. As he gasped and tried to pull in air, he remembered the dagger he kept strapped to the side of his bed. He stealthily snaked his hand around the edge and grabbed it, then quickly plunged it into Grey Worm's chest. Then he pulled it out and stabbed him in the chest again.
The Unsullied who had been holding the spear to Jon's chest pushed it into his heart. Just like when the Night's Watch traitors had stabbed him, he felt his life slipping away and his last thoughts were of Ygritte and Eddard.
That morning, Tormund noticed Jon hadn't left his cabin. They'd been planning to go hunting that day. Shortly after dawn, when he still hadn't shown, Tormund banged on the door.
"Come on, you pretty crow. Get up!"
Noticing a trail of blood on the snow near the cabin, he kicked the door in. Jon laid on the bed, covered in blood. A crimson covered dagger was in his hand. A trail of blood led to the door. Whoever did it, Jon got some good strikes in first.
Tormund was about to leave to go build a funeral pyre for his friend, when he noticed a helmet on the floor. Picking it up, he recognized it. He'd seen thousands of these at Winterfell. It was an Unsullied helmet, and the special insignia on the front of it marked it as belonging to the leader of the Unsullied.
Grey Worm. He'd wanted Jon's head ever since he'd killed that dragon queen.
Tormund looked at the dagger in Jon's hand. The dagger and Jon's hand were covered in blood. He'd killed Grey Worm before he'd succumbed to his injuries, which appeared to have been inflicted by a spear.
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Jon woke up under the same Weirwood tree, next to the river. He stood up slowly, and walked to the river to take a drink.
After splashing his face with water, he saw Ygritte and Eddard walking towards him. Jon ran to them. He picked up Eddard and swung him high in the air, then hugged him tightly. The little guy was 6 years old now.
Putting his son down, he turned to Ygritte. She ran and jumped into his arms and planted her mouth on his. Jon held her as close as he could as their lips connected.
...I wanna spend the rest of my life
with you by my side
forever and ever…*
They were finally together and now he'd never have to leave. He could spend the rest of eternity in Ygritte's arms. As they kissed, he ran his hands up and down her back and through her hair, remembering again how it felt to hold her.
When they finally broke apart, they stared into each other's eyes. Ygritte put her hands on each side of Jon's face.
"Are you here to stay with us now? Because I won't be able to stand it if you leave us again."
"I don't think the Free Folk have any Red Priestesses and Melisandre is dead. So, I'm here to stay."
At his words, Ygritte's face broke into a huge smile and she kissed him again. Then she leaned her forehead into his as she caught her breath.
"You're mine, Ygritte. And I'm yours." Jon took a hold of her head, as he gently kissed her again. "I love you."
"I love you, too." She planted another kiss on his lips. "I am yours, and you are mine. Forever."
"Forever…", whispered Jon.
They stared into each other's eyes again, holding each other and kissing, until the sound of his father clearing his throat interrupted them.
His mother was standing with Eddard, but she ran up to hug her son. Then his father hugged him.
Robb's boys ran up to him, so Jon squatted down to catch them both in a bear hug. Then he hugged Robb and Talisa.
A curly haired teenage boy ran up to Jon and tackled him, knocking him over.
"Rickon!", Jon exclaimed as he stood back up and hugged his little brother. Rickon was always tackling his older brother when they were both much younger at Winterfell.
"I am so sorry, Rickon. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."
"We're both here now, that's what matters."
Next was Uncle Benjen, who hugged him and then clapped him on the shoulder. "I want to hear all about how the Night King and his army were defeated. But another day." He nodded at Ygritte and ruffled Eddard's hair. "You have other priorities today."
"I'll tell you all about it. About Arya." Uncle Benjen smiled at the mention of his wild, heroic niece. "I did nothing."
Jon turned to his gathered loved ones. "I know my rightful name is Aegon Targaryen the 6th, but can everyone just call me Jon?"
They all nodded. "It's not that I don't want the name, but for 25 years I've been 'Jon' to everybody. Thank you."
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Back at Hardhome, Tormund and the Free Folk had built a pyre for their friend and leader. Everybody turned up to bid him farewell. They all knew they were alive because he had taken a stand for them.
I am the shield
That guards
The realms of men
When he'd recited his vows, he knew it meant *all* men, not just those lucky enough to be born south of the wall. He gave the Free Folk a chance by bringing south all those who'd survived the Night King's massacre at Hardhome.
Long after the fire had burned down to embers, many remained around it sharing memories of Jon.
Tormund planned to set off for Winterfell in the morning, with a handful of men, to give Longclaw to Sansa Stark to keep, and to tell her of Jon's death.
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In the Lands of the Old Gods, the sun was going down. Jon told Eddard a story about riding the dragon Rhaegal and the two tucked him into bed.
Ygritte led him by the hand to their bedroom. No sooner had the door closed, then Jon pinned her against it, kissing her mouth and face and hair as his hands roamed all over her. As they broke away, Jon stared into her eyes.
"We're together."
Ygritte nodded, overcome with emotion and barely able to speak.
"We're together,'' she whispered.
"No more war, no more death, no one to come between us. Now we have eternity, here."
"Don't ever betray me, Jon Snow, or I'll cut your balls off and wear 'em round me neck."
Jon laughed. It was something she'd told him once in the cave, while they were all tangled up next to a hot spring.
"I'll never leave. I'm here."
Ygritte pushed him onto the bed and sent her clothes flying as his own found a place on the floor. Then she climbed on top of him, and they didn't let go until sunrise.
The smell of your skin
The taste of your kiss
The way you whisper in the dark
Your hair all around me
Baby you surround me
Touch every place in my heart*
Early in the morning, the two stood at the window, wrapped in a blanket watching the sun come up.
Ygritte touched the new scars on his neck and chest. "I'm sorry they killed you, but I'm not sorry you returned to me. Who was it?"
"The Unsullied. An army from Essos that the Dragon Queen brought to Westeros to fight the undead and take the throne. After I put a knife in her heart, they wanted to kill me, but my sisters fought for my life. A compromise was made and I was sent to the Wall instead. When they brought me out of the cell and gave Longclaw back to me, their leader told me that someday he would have his revenge, and he did. He came to my cabin and killed me."
"You put your knife in the Dragon Queen's heart?"
Oh, fuck. "Yes."
"Did you put anything else in her?"
Jon stared at the floor. "Yes."
Ygritte slapped him, then shoved him into the wall.
"I was trying to make allies, to save the North and defeat the Night King. I was also trying to help her make an heir."
Ygritte's eyes burned a hole in his skull.
"I'm sorry. I truly am."
"Did you love her?"
"No."
"Are you lying to me, Jon Snow?"
"No. I was attracted to her, but I didn't love her. Every time I looked into her eyes, I saw you."
"She's not here."
"No. Her first love was a Dothraki Khal. He died and their son died. I'm sure she's in the Nightlands with them. I don't think she loved me. She was still in love with him."
Ygritte stared at him for a moment. "I don't know whether to slap you again or kiss you."
"Then kiss me."
Ygritte jumped into Jon's arms and wrapped her legs around him. He carried her to the window sill and they stared into each other's eyes as they made love in the first light of the day. After, they stayed by the window, clinging to each other.
"I love you, Jon Snow."
"I love you, too."
Later that morning, the little family walked along the river and picked fruit from berry bushes growing along the banks. Jon's heart swelled with love as he watched Eddard running and playing with his pet direwolf.
Uncle Benjen joined them, and when Eddard was out of earshot, he turned to the two. "I know you two are making up for lost time, but try to stay away from the windows."
Jon's and Ygritte's cheeks burned and they both spoke at once. "Oops."
"Some of us are early risers."
"Okay, sorry Uncle Benjen. We will."
"Good. Enough about that. I want you to tell me about my niece and the Night King."
"Arya trained with the Faceless Men. She's stealthy and fearless. She had the smith make her a double-ended dragonglass spear. She crept up behind him as he was preparing to kill Bran, and made a flying leap. He caught her, but she had hold of his other arm. She stabbed him in the chest with a Valerian steel dagger and he burst into a million ice crystals. Then all the White Walkers burst into ice shards and every one of the dead men fell."
"That's my girl!" Benjen beamed with pride. "Where is she now?"
"Sailing with a crew, west of Westeros to see what's out there."
"That's where all the maps stop. I guess she'll add to them."
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Down in King's Landing, Bran had seen the Unsullied near Hardhome and sent a raven to warn them, but it arrived too late. Bran knew his brother was dead.
He still warged into ravens and surveyed the lands North of the wall, as well as the rest of Westeros and Essos. He also rode ravens west to check on Arya. She had found a very large island and docked on it, alive and well.
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Tormund arrived in Winterfell and requested an audience with the queen in the North. He told her of Jon Snow's death at the hands of the Unsullied leader and how Jon had killed Grey Worm before succumbing to his injuries. He presented her with Longclaw to keep. She was grateful the Unsullied had left it behind.
Jon's body had been burned in keeping with the tradition of the Free Folk, but Sansa vowed to commission a statue for him in the Winterfell crypt.
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During the days, Jon and Ygritte played with Eddard and Robb's boys, Benjen and Branden, and talked with the other family members.
Jon and Benjen talked about the Night's Watch for hours on end, including Craster's keep and Jon's time with the Free Folk. Benjen had been to his keep on several occasions, and was just as disgusted by him as Jon.
Jon talked with Lyanna about Ygritte's death after giving birth to Eddard. How he wished he'd had her there to help him sort it all out.
He talked with Ned and Robb about their family. About Sansa marrying Tyrion and then Ramsey. About losing the loyalty of the Karstarks and Umbers. Robb recognized the mistakes he made during the War of the Five Kings. They were both incredibly proud of Arya for killing the Night King.
Ned remembered watching his youngest daughter training with the Former first sword of Braavos.
"When I watched her train with Syrio Forel in King's Landing. I knew her skill with a sword would lead her to do something great. I just didn't know what."
At night, Jon and Ygritte got lost in each other. Every touch, every kiss seemed sweeter than the last.
And it feels like the first time
every time
I want to spend the whole night
in your eyes*
Whenever the Giant's Fire painted the sky, they would wrap up in blankets and watch it out the window. Or lay on the ground on blankets outside.
There was nothing to tear them apart anymore. The Lands of the Old Gods never had war. No illness. No death. Nothing to come between them. They were together.
*- starred text is from Amazed by Lonestar. I listened to that song on loop while writing most of this, much to my spouse's chagrin.