Game of Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2600 Words.]

Third Person POV.

Gift.

...

...

The horses advanced from the north toward the queen's crown, returning from the Night's Watch after delivering the letters. The bodies were already heading south with the dozens of letters Jon had written, in every direction below the Wall.

The horses entered the camp as the free folk guarding the entrance looked strangely at one of the Night's Watch members among them, dressed in black, but did not stop him from arriving with the group Jon had sent with Lucis's brother.

They passed along the main road between the tents and even passed some houses being built. Lafy followed the Night's Watch member to the tent where Jon and his sister lived, and Jon stepped out of the tent at that moment, having already seen his uncle Benjen among them.

Benjen stopped, got off his horse, and approached Jon.

"Jon, where are they?" he asked immediately.

Obviously, he knew his nephews were alive from the letters and came to Jon's camp after speaking with the Lord Commander.

Jon simply gestured for him to follow, heading to a tent nearby.

He found the group, his cousins sitting down, while Bran seemed to be talking to the Reed siblings. Rickon was in a corner playing with the direwolves of the two brothers, while Hodor and the free folk woman were with him.

As Jon entered the tent, everyone immediately looked at him, while he made space for Benjen Stark to enter, who looked surprised at the two brothers upon entering.

"Uncle!" Bran exclaimed immediately.

"Make yourselves at home," Jon said, not needing to make introductions, as he left the tent, letting Rickon run to Benjen, who hugged him and picked him up before going over to Bran.

"You're alive! I thought you were dead," Benjen hugged Bran tightly in his chair.

"We managed to escape, uncle." Bran said with a tearful tone.

"We ran," Rickon only murmured.

"You don't know how happy I am to see you well. The Lord Commander informed me through Jon's letter that you are here. He also sent the letters to the south... Your father and your brothers will be immediately surprised and happy that you two are alive," he murmured happily, that the Stark family was still alive after everything—except for Catelyn, who had been confirmed dead after the Red Wedding.

"Will he let us go? Are we hostages?" Bran suddenly murmured to his uncle, and then, they fell into a moment of silence.

Jon had said no, but there were doubts, and the boy was too insecure after everything that had happened. He wouldn't trust just words — especially from someone who says he hates his parents.

How could he believe Jon right away?

"Jon is cruel, much more than most men. He can be many things, from what I've seen... But he is not one to break his word," Benjen said.

"Are you sure? I spoke with some wildlings," the free folk woman approached and spoke at that moment. "He has the respect of most of the free folk, but some say he steals souls and gives no rest after death... That's what some told me. And they fear him more than the White Walkers." Osha said.

Benjen looked a bit thoughtful before answering. "I've seen things he did that should be impossible. He has gifts... that should be impossible. But he is not a liar. He mentioned in his letters that if any Stark ally wants to take you and you agree, he won't stop it," he explained.

For a moment, the siblings said nothing, and Benjen continued.

"Besides, if you don't feel safe here, you can come with me to the Night's Watch. But I think Jon will treat you well," Benjen concluded.

"Is he really the son of our late aunt Lyanna?" Bran asked, and Benjen nodded silently, lips pressed together.

"Yes, he really is who he says he is. And his fight is against the Iron Throne," Benjen explained.

"I had some dreams... I saw him at the Iron Bank and sitting on the Iron Throne, looking at several men and claiming he was the heir. But I saw a city through the window... a city full of water and the Iron Throne was on cracked ground as if it had been nailed there. That wasn't King's Landing..." Bran murmured, referring to the prophetic dreams he had been having since waking from his small coma after his fall.

"That must have been when he was in Braavos..." Benjen looked surprised, imagining it might have been there, based on Bran's description of the city...

"Yeah... He already has an Iron Throne, Bran. He can use it and take it wherever he wants now. But still, Jon won't stop until he avenges House Targaryen. That, you can be sure of. I don't know what will happen to your father, but I ask you not to seek vengeance against Jon. I know what he's capable of. And what I've seen so far is only a glimpse. He's not someone any of us can handle," he said seriously.

"I saw his dragon. It's huge..." Rickon murmured with some fear.

"I dreamed these past days... I saw him destroy an entire castle of a flayed man," Bran said.

"House Bolton..." Jojen murmured beside him, listening to the conversation.

"You saw that?!" Benjen didn't understand how his nephew was predicting the future... Maybe it ran in the family after all. "Jon is about to leave with that white dragon to destroy House Bolton," he said.

"Hodor..." Hodor murmured, seeming worried.

While they were talking, Jon, who was outside organizing a few more things after speaking with Lafy and some other men, was approached by the Children of the Forest, who came to him since he hadn't been able to receive them earlier.

"Ah, yes. Tell me, what do you want?" he asked calmly as he saw them approaching, having been expecting them for a while.

The interaction between him and the Children of the Forest was quite limited. They had passed almost unnoticed along with the free folk through the Wall. They remained the entire time with the forest witches of the free folk, having settled at the heart tree of the Queen's Crown.

And so they stayed, because Jon didn't necessarily need their help. Their magic was far weaker compared to the Dragonborn's own abilities. They might surprise most of the free folk, whether by appearance or powers, but compared to Jon, they seemed like mere teenagers in Skyrim who knew a bit of magic.

The Dragonborn was already watching them calmly as one of the children approached with the others in a small group — all that remained of them.

"Can we talk? Right here is fine," Leaf said, as Jon motioned for the men he was speaking with to step away.

"We... we know that a great greenseer is in the camp. A boy," she said, as Jon narrowed his eyes.

"Would that boy be the Reed, or the paralyzed boy?" Jon asked calmly.

"The boy the big man carried on his back," she replied.

Jon knew she was talking about his cousin.

He had sensed a magical aura around Bran, but it could also have referred to Jojen, since he had admitted during the Winterfell feast that he was a greenseer. So Jon kept both options in mind as his eyes began to narrow.

"Wait... I remember your master saying he was about to change skins to save the world and all that. Are you talking about the child?" Jon said slowly, clearly displeased by the idea.

In the end, that lunatic had been referring to his cousin when they met. Jon still couldn't understand how Bran had fallen from one of Winterfell's towers after he had left the castle...

Even his mother, the trout, had screamed that it might've been him who caused it — that was when he was already north of the Wall, after having gone to Essos and returned to the North. A complete delusion from that woman.

"Yes. We wanted to speak with him," the Children of the Forest said.

"Why? Is your master no longer in a position to enter the child's body? His soul is now trapped inside me and soon I will destroy it," Jon said, as the children seemed to shrink in fear at hearing Jon's words.

No one could deal with souls in this world, but Jon was a being who absorbed them — and they didn't even know he had devoured dozens of dragon souls as he killed them.

"That's not it. He may no longer become the Three-Eyed Raven, but he can still help him. He is a strong enough warg to be a great help in the war against the dead," she said.

"I doubt he'll want to help me after I said his father wasn't going to end up well," Jon mocked, but didn't deny the request. "But fine, you can speak with him. As long as Bran doesn't make this a problem, he can choose whatever path he wants."

Jon returned to the tent again, while Benjen would not be leaving that day and would stay with his nephews with the Lord Commander's permission, who had decided to remain in the camp that day. Everyone looked at Jon as he kept a silent gaze over them.

"Well, the Children of the Forest insisted on speaking with you, Bran, since you were the vessel for their former master. But he's dead, so he won't possess you," Jon spoke openly, with strange words, as the Children entered, everyone surprised at the small, leaf-covered creatures — except Benjen, who had already seen them in the camp.

Still, Bran looked at Jon in fear upon hearing the words he spoke.

"Hodor!" Hodor was the first to react, showing some fear upon seeing the Children of the Forest.

"Now I'll leave you to talk. And remember: you're not obligated to decide anything they want to tell you," Jon gave a final warning before turning to his uncle.

"You can stay here with them. I'm heading out and won't be back until tomorrow. Look for Mance if you need anything," Jon said.

"Where are you going?" Benjen immediately asked, then fell silent, realizing perhaps he shouldn't question Jon. But Jon didn't mind.

"I'm heading south. I'm going to destroy Bolton's castle, just like I said in the letter I sent to all the houses. I need to set an example. Maybe the 'savages' aren't the ones they should be fearing," Jon said with irony at the word "savages," since the free folk were considered such in the North.

Either way, he turned around and began to leave, leaving the Children of the Forest behind, and went to his tent, where he spoke with Daenerys, Lucis, Val, and Ygritte.

Afterward, he went to Mance and Della's tent, explained the situation. Mance nodded, knowing full well what Jon was about to do, and not wanting to be anyone left in that castle by the end of the night.

And so he continued, heading to the area where Winter was — a place full of giants working. His camp had at least six hundred of them, along with eighty mammoths. They were the brute force used to carry wood here and there from the few nearby forests, as they continued chopping down trees.

Jon made sure to quickly speak with a few of them. Then, he returned to Winter, where the dragon's nest was already filled with eaten carcasses, although she had begun to maintain a bit of hygiene after Jon taught her, no longer leaving the remains exposed, instead releasing ice onto the bones and scraps she hadn't eaten, freezing them and preventing the smell from spreading.

Either way, she was already waiting for Jon, who was getting ready and knew very well what she would do. She stepped away from the nest and gave a few roars for him to climb onto her back.

And so he did.

"Well, let's go south." With those words, she simply beat her wings and soared into the sky. It was mid-afternoon when they disappeared from view, with everyone watching the dragon vanish into the sky.

Before that, Jon didn't fail to glance toward Last Hearth as he traveled, still leaving the Gift behind, remembering very well the response Mors Umber had written to him.

He was going to make that man shit his pants right now.

The dragon simply began to dive at high speed upon reaching the skies above the castle, falling upon the fortress. The men guarding the walls could only feel, at the last moment, the disturbance in the air as Winter's wings emitted a terrifying sound.

When they opened their eyes, the colossal creature was already upon them.

Mors Umber was in the solar of the Great Honor. He held no love at all for the one who called himself Daemon Targaryen.

First, he'd heard about the bastard beating both Ned and his wife at Winterfell after years of disappearance. Then came the reports of his crimes in King's Landing. Not to mention how he had injured his nephew — Mors's own son — in such a way that he was bedridden for the rest of the war, with broken bones that would never be the same.

They sent letters claiming Jon had used magic against fifty men and devastated them in seconds. And that only Robb Stark had been left unharmed, because Jon had allowed it.

Now, that same man, who from time to time brought about ruin, had entered the North with 180,000 wildlings. And had already devastated dozens of villages.

Even though Jon had offered money — a great deal of gold — as compensation, Mors still hated him. In Jon, he saw all the ruin, all the disgrace that could befall them.

That's why he spat on the ground when he heard from his men about how they bowed before that Targaryen.

He seemed to be having a quieter day, when the maester entered the solar in haste with a letter he had just received.

'My response to all the North. Signed: Daemon Targaryen.' This letter had come from the Night's Watch, and Mors was surprised by that, not opening it for the last two hours after receiving it, filled with frustration and even fear of what that letter might hold.

He ignored it and continued reading the other correspondence while at the same time preparing all the Umber soldiers for a possible war against the 180,000 wildlings so close to them.

Until, at one point, he began to hear shouting coming from the walls. He stood up, surprised, imagining it could be the wildlings marching, as Jon had said they would be his enemies in response to his letter.

But before even reaching the window, a sudden roar exploded from the sky, making the entire castle tremble. Fear spread through every corner. Even Mors Umber nearly lost control of his heartbeat, terrified, rushing to the window with dread.

The creature simply beat its wings right near the castle and soared back into the sky, flying southward, paying them no more mind — though the castle was left so shaken that they remained armed for any attack in the coming hours, watching the sky for the rest of the day in fear. But Jon had vanished, not giving them another glance.

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