Game of Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV.

North.

...

...

The ground was slightly dented by the footsteps of thousands of men advancing south in sync at that moment.

The entire Gift plain was being filled by men marching with every step.

Even wearing animal leather clothes, a unique characteristic of the inhabitants beyond the Wall, anyone from the Seven Kingdoms seeing them march at that moment wouldn't say they were wildlings from beyond the Wall.

They all synchronized their steps, stomped their feet in march, advancing south in groups of 500 men in two columns, following the command at their front.

Jon separated 50,000 men and 100 giants from the main group, while leaving another 130,000 people and 500 more giants guarding the Gift, still building the place. They were under Mance's leadership. While Jon was away fighting, the man's leadership would certainly be necessary.

Mance wanted to fight when he tried to raise his small army to pacify the North. Jon denied that request, as he needed someone who could lead the free folk — and that someone was none other than Mance.

He was authorized to execute anyone who tried to rebel or attack any other village in the North. Jon had also left enough supplies for all 130,000 people to feed themselves for six months, storing all provisions in Castle Black, where it would be distributed and controlled by the free folk, like their own Watch, also being able to make use of the resources.

The Stark children still remained in the camp, even with uncle Benjen's request for them to go to the Wall. Still, they chose to stay. Daenerys even managed to handle the children in recent days, despite having shown some antipathy at first toward the boys for being Starks.

Surprisingly, it was Jon who showed mercy toward the children, saying they weren't guilty of their parents' crimes, comparing their situation to the way he had been treated.

'I am not that low,' he said when they spoke.

Lucius also shared responsibility with Daenerys and took his brother to keep her company.

In any case, the company of 50,000 men heading south was already formed. Eight giant wolves were advancing, leading the army at the front, while Jon rode ahead of the men, some giant wolves walking at his side.

Jon's eyes were fixed on the terrain as he dealt with the scouts. There were still eagles in the sky, which he could assume with his consciousness — even if he had to leave his body with white eyes, it was still quite useful to gather information in seconds, a skill that would have been welcome in Skyrim if he had had the chance to learn it before.

But better late than never.

A scout approached Jon at that moment, while the leaders were right behind Jon's horse. His horse stopped near him, unwilling to get too close to the wolves surrounding Jon.

"Jon, the Umber stronghold, as you said, is only six hours from here," the scout reported.

Jon nodded.

"Very well. We'll get there before nightfall. I want to camp in front of the castle," Jon said calmly.

"We're not going to make any surprise attack," said the man beside him.

His name was Bak, and he lived beyond the Wall raiding villages with his tribe through ambushes, whether under the cover of night or at moments when they caught others off guard and unarmed.

"No, there's no need. We'll just move," Jon replied. There were fifty thousand men there. There was no need for surprise attacks.

"We'll just show ourselves. It won't make a difference," was all Jon said in the end, as the man nodded and returned. The scout moved forward again, resuming his position at the front of the group.

Jon didn't fail to glance over his shoulder, seeing his army marching in tight groups, yet keeping pace, while wagons and horses carrying resources were positioned in the middle of the army.

Several more hours of marching passed and, as predicted, it was late afternoon when the Umber stronghold was just ahead — the final slope. A fortress with at least three towers, the center one being the tallest, surrounded by high walls.

There was a town in front of it.

Jon could see the panic of the people, screaming, trying to get into the castle and fleeing in the distance. He stopped, raising his hand to his army and also issued orders, while his men quickly commanded the army to halt.

At certain intervals, soldiers began shouting the commander's orders.

"Wow, this is desperation! We haven't even started fighting yet, and we've already scared them all! You can even hear the men screaming like girls," Tormund exclaimed, beginning to laugh at it, finding the situation quite amusing.

"If you're looking for a good fight, this won't be the place. We came here just to take them down. But look at this, it's just a fortress. There are at least, what... about 2,000 men there to defend it?" Jon said calmly. This wasn't war.

"What are the plans, my king?" asked one of the fifteen leaders Jon had among the free folk, always polite, trying to adapt to southern customs, even asking questions to Night's Watch members. He had always called Jon "my king" ever since he learned what Jon's position meant in the South and understood the meaning behind his name and cause.

"We'll just take the fortress, make the Umbers surrender, then move on to the next. I don't even intend to leave men to guard it. I just want to set an example for the North, and even show a bit of mercy, since I won't execute any Umber. I'll leave that for when we've conquered the entire North. Then I can judge the crimes. But I won't execute those who are just fighting for their home," Jon replied calmly, concluding in a way that made everyone nod in agreement.

There were some he wouldn't show mercy to, of course, but he would leave that for another time when he finally found them.

"Now ask one of ours to dismiss their positions. We'll camp on this ground and wait for the people down there to calm down. If we take one more step, the souls down there are going to start killing themselves, thinking we're going to do horrible things to them," Jon said.

"But we... we do horrible things," a leader muttered, as Jon gave him a displeased look.

"Did. North of the Wall," he replied cautiously, receiving Jon's glare.

"And now, I won't tolerate war crimes. I executed 300 men for that, and I won't mind executing a thousand more just to restore order. We're not some band of savages here. Are we understood?" Jon spoke with a serious tone, and the man nodded.

Either way, they decided to leave this madness for tomorrow morning. They let the men rest — and also allowed those people to breathe.

"We launch the attack at dawn," Jon gave the final word, as the formation quickly began gathering on that ground, retrieving tents from the supply wagons, setting them up and forming a massive camp for the night.

Jon didn't even bother having a command tent assembled for strategy. There was no need, as he simply found his wives Val and Ygritte in his own tent.

Obviously, they were accompanying him on his first official military campaign.

He went to bed with them, undressing and taking the opportunity to spend the rest of the night with both.

The next morning, he stepped out of his tent groggy and shirtless, as some men were calling for him.

He went to check, seeing a man being grabbed by his army and forced to kneel before Jon. As he bent his knees, Jon noticed immediately.

"You're an Umber."

"Yes, my lord... I mean, king of Westeros. My name is Ederk Umber! I fled Last Hearth to pledge my loyalty to you!" he said.

Jon, knowing he was in front of a sycophant.

"Then tell me, what do you want?" he asked.

"My lord, I want to join you. House Umber will fight at your side to conquer the Seven Kingdoms," he said, as Jon raised one eyebrow.

"In exchange for what?" he asked calmly.

This man came with nothing, only promises. It was ridiculous, but this was called human greed.

"My lord, I want you to give me the title of Lord of Last Hearth. Mors Umber won't stand by your side. That's why I ask to join you. Grant me the title of Lord Umber," he said, as Jon raised an eyebrow, not believing an Umber would stand by the free folk so easily.

"As far as I know, there's a legitimate heir in the castle, even if it's not yet confirmed whether the senior Jon Umbers who were in the South are dead. Still, the boy is the rightful heir to Last Hearth. Am I wrong? Ned Stark is the boy's name, right? He's not of age to rule yet, but he's the heir," Jon said calmly, as the man frowned.

"It's true, my lord, but the boy is just a child. He's not competent. That's why I think you should grant me the title," the man murmured.

"You want me to strip the boy of his rights and give them to you, correct?" Jon asked calmly, as the crowd began to gather around while he spoke with the man.

That seemed to leave Ederk quite embarrassed, looking at Jon with caution, seeing that he didn't seem the least bit inclined to accept.

"Yes, my lord," he said, eyes lowered, swallowing hard. Maybe he tried to prove himself by coming here alone after climbing over the castle wall.

Not very smart.

Jon looked at him as if he were a fool.

He couldn't help but think of the children in his camp, his cousins, just witnessing someone try to usurp their rights. Even with Robb dead.

He didn't want to have to deal with such things, let alone strip the rights of children who were not to blame for losing their parents or being in a war, while uncles or manipulative cousins tried to take their places and hold onto them out of greed.

"Well, I'll pass," Jon simply said. "Put this man in a cell. We'll deal with him later."

Jon shrugged, displeased with the man's greed, as he immediately dropped to his knees.

"No, my lord! Please don't do this!" he tried to argue before being firmly grabbed by the shoulders and dragged away.

"Now, back to work. Tend to the camp. We'll be preparing to attack the castle with part of the army in a few hours!!" Jon shouted to his men around him, who nodded, while he returned to his tent, grabbing an apple from the basket left there, biting into it as he sat on the bed with the two women — one of them wrapped in a sheet, covering her naked body.

"What was all that commotion?" Val raised her head, looking at Jon. She was already naked. Jon allowed himself to admire the blonde's body, locking eyes with her for a moment before answering.

"Nothing much. Just the usual, of what we can expect here in Westeros," Jon said with a quiet sigh.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Val immediately changed the subject as Jon avoided going deeper.

Jon was staring at her body with a look of desire, and she gave a seductive smile, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"Do I really need to say why?" Jon said, finishing the last bite as he moved his other hand to her thighs, caressing and moving closer to her groin, while she turned to him, opening up with desire.

"We have some time, don't we?" was all Val said, and tossing the rest of the apple aside, Jon leaned into the blonde.

"Just don't make noise, please. I want to sleep a bit more," Ygritte muttered from the other side of the bed, where she lay naked under the blanket, having been the most active the night before and now exhausted.

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