Game of Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2500 Words.]

Third Person POV.

North.

...

...

From where he stood, mounted on his horse with other members of his company, Jon saw a group approaching, led by Mors Umber — an elderly man with a great white beard, taller than the average man, which was not uncommon for a man of Umber blood.

He stopped, scrutinizing Jon with narrowed eyes as if searching for someone among the small group.

"Where is Ederk Umber? I heard that traitor left the castle seeking refuge," he said, spitting on the ground.

"I imprisoned him," Jon said. "And now he's in a cell at the camp."

"You imprisoned him? Well, that's what happens when you try to trust wildlings," he uttered, as Jon raised an eyebrow.

"So you wanted me to accept his proposal to usurp Ned Umber? Is that what you wanted? Which would've been much easier for me, despite never trusting a man like that. Is that what you're telling me, Mors Umber? I didn't think the Umbers were so foolish and irrational as to want us to help their blood traitors," Jon spoke calmly, but with a deeply disapproving look.

He knew these meetings were made for insults and provocations, but Jon was certainly not that kind of man. He was only there to demand the castle — whether they wanted it or not. If they didn't, that was another story. They would settle that with their weapons.

Mors didn't know what to say in that moment after Jon's words, and ended up falling silent, changing the subject.

"Your dragon isn't here. I heard about that. What happened at the Dreadfort? Well, you certainly scared the North, but you won't scare the Umber family. I know our castle is important and I don't think you're just going to destroy us."

"That's true. As long as the noble family never gives me a reason to do so, everything will be fine. But remember: it's just a castle. A pile of stones can be rebuilt later. So don't push your luck," Jon replied.

"And what are you going to do, then? Stay behind your walls?"

"Obviously," the man replied firmly. "We will not yield Last Hearth to you, wildling. We'll hold the castle. I see you have a large number of men, but we can withstand your siege and wait for reinforcements from the south."

"You think Stannis can just come here easily? Only if he simply decides to sail in, while also having to face 180 thousand free folk. And getting here won't be easy — not through the North itself. Since they'll have the Boltons on their trail," Jon said.

The man seemed a bit uncertain at that moment.

"We won't yield the castle to you nor to your dead wildlings."

In any case, he declared it.

The free folk beside Jon began to boo and growl.

"Very well," Jon replied. "Just hope your gate is well reinforced. Let's begin."

With that, he turned his horse, his companions following him.

"..." The Umber men stared for a moment, then left as well.

"I want only 10,000 men with me," Jon demanded, as they organized the troops that would advance.

He calmly watched the castle as he saw his men begin to gather. The wall was filled with archers preparing for battle.

He saw Ygritte beside him.

"Hey, big one, how about you take down some of those men? After all, many eyes are up on that wall," Jon asked his wife, who felt he was speaking to her.

She was well-armed, looked like a valkyrie in her armor, and wielded a bow engraved with enchanted runes that Jon had placed on it. He didn't really know the limits a bow should have.

She quickly began aiming and shooting while the men atop the wall remained unaware.

Her arrow flew rapidly over 150 meters, hitting a man who pissed himself as he was struck in the neck. He fell dead, with his companions staring in shock, wondering who that archer beside the leader on horseback was.

What kind of power was that, from such a distance? It was something none of them could have dreamed of.

Another arrow flew, hitting another man, and it was only on the third — who died with an arrow piercing his forehead — that the others began to realize the danger they were in. No one wanted to die, so they quickly began to abandon the walls.

"Alright, I'll go ahead. You advance only after I'm inside," Jon said. It wouldn't take long.

"Jon..." Val wanted to speak up.

"After I break the gate, Val," Jon warned, and the blonde had to nod, not wanting to argue with him.

He ignored all the townspeople, terrified inside their homes, and gave strict orders to his men not to touch any of them, not even get near the town. Still, the people didn't believe that, and they were scared to death, with most fleeing south, as the castle couldn't shelter them all.

"I'll say it one more time! Advance only when the gate is destroyed," Jon shouted to everyone, and they nodded.

In the next moment, he simply kicked his heels into his horse, which galloped forward toward the gate, alone. He left most of his men shocked, but that was his order.

Jon kept riding forward, while archers — seeing his approach from the gaps in the wall — began firing arrows. Jon, as he got closer, raised his hand and began creating a shield using the school of alteration. The shield expanded fully to protect both him and his horse, while the arrows were repelled by a white aura emanating from Jon's hand.

That shield could even protect him from a master of the school of destruction. So arrows were nothing for someone with that kind of power.

As he got close enough, he took a deep breath, making an extra effort to keep his horse calm for what was coming. The animal already had ear protectors on from the start.

"Fus Ro Dah!" Jon used his Unrelenting Force Thu'um with all three words.

The shout immediately caused an explosion. He dropped the shield at that moment, repelling any arrows still coming, while the force blasted against the gate, bursting it apart without any resistance along with the stones surrounding it, until it simply crumbled into several pieces, cracking and shattering as fragments flew inward.

Jon rode in right after, with the shapes and screams of terrified people inside, while his 10,000 men, seeing this, began to run forward too, advancing toward the entrance.

"Let's go! The place is ours!" Tormund shouted, charging along with the 10,000 men.

Jon took the opportunity to look to the side, seeing the gate collapse on top of soldiers, while part of the wall also crumbled, stunning everyone on the parapets and making way for the free folk to keep advancing.

Jon quickly moved forward, jumping off his horse as someone slapped its haunch to send it off to safety, away from arrows should the fight continue. Jon advanced swiftly toward the men, drawing Dark Sister.

"Mors Umber! Your wall has fallen! There's no way for you to stop the castle from falling now! Surrender, and you and everyone in this castle will be spared! I give you my word!" Jon shouted, his voice roaring through the entire place with ease.

"No... we..." Mors appeared at one of the windows with a balcony, looking terrified. Did he only have time to get inside the castle?! There, he saw Jon standing in the middle of the courtyard, with men rushing toward the destroyed entrance and already passing through the gate at that very moment, Jon raising his hand to signal them to stop as they entered the castle.

Though they were all quite eager for bloodshed, Jon asked them to calm down, and they continued advancing, quickly lining up behind Jon. There were many men; everyone inside grew nervous. The battle was lost.

The question was: how had this happened in just a few minutes?

The first weapon dropped to the ground immediately, from a soldier near Jon. Jon could see Mors Umber's reluctant expression, but his men had already decided, immediately beginning to drop their weapons.

"Sensible," Jon said, returning to his men.

"I want you to disarm everyone. I'll be having a conversation with Mors Umber. Remember: no looting. Attack only those who resist or don't lower their weapons."

With that, Jon moved forward, while Tormund began to laugh.

"You see that? The man can tear down the castle of any southerner in just seconds. Come on, surrender now — you've lost."

He continued demanding the weapons of the men nearby.

With the castle easily surrendered, Jon entered it with his men. The guards made way for him with no resistance, and no one raised a weapon against him.

"Where is your lord?" Jon demanded of one of the men.

"And I'm not talking about the old man — I'm talking about the child. Ned Umber. Summon him here," Jon demanded.

"I'll call him, my lord. He'll be back here shortly," a guard said quickly, rushing up the stairs while Jon waited there.

A moment later, the old man appeared along with the boy. Both wore darkened expressions, visibly defeated. They seemed unable to believe they had lost the family castle so easily, as a crowd of people gathered behind them.

"Good, that's good. So you're Ned Umber, lord of Last Hearth?" he said.

"I was, yes, my lord," the boy murmured fearfully, his voice timid.

"Great. Either way, I'm going to spend a day with you to talk about your future. And I want Mors Umber thrown in the dungeon right now. I don't trust him," Jon declared, looking at the guards around him, who appeared slightly surprised.

"You want to imprison me?!" Mors Umber roared.

"Until I decide what to do with you, it's best to put you in the cells. I don't like your temper, and you carry too much hatred for the free folk. I won't tolerate that in negotiations," Jon declared, as the Umber men, unable to do anything, grabbed the man and took him to the dungeon, their expressions cautious. Jon gave them no choice — he could have taken him elsewhere, but he didn't want to. That man, he would deal with later. It didn't matter if he had once been lord of the castle. He was going to take him.

"Well then, how about showing me the fortress and your solar?" Jon asked the boy, still visibly cautious, as the maester came up beside him and bowed to Jon.

"Let me take you there, my lord," he said.

In the end, they had no choice but to comply with the Dragonborn's demands, who made his way to the solar, picking up a few letters here and there, and documents, as he glanced over at the boy. After a few hours, it was time to talk, and it was at that moment that Val entered the room, looking for him. Jon asked her to stay by his side until he was done.

"Well, I don't think you've lived long enough — not enough to carry hatred toward the free folk, even if there were some wicked tribes that lived on this side of the Wall, not all are like that. We're trying to maintain order," Jon began.

"Yes, my lord. And about the destroyed villages..." the maester said beside the boy, who never dared speak for himself.

"I killed every one of them myself, maester. And I also handed over money to compensate for it all. I know I can't bring the dead back, but I guarantee I'll do everything I can to prevent incidents like that. I made that message very clear to the free folk," Jon said, while the maester only nodded.

"In any case, I won't ask you to choose a side right now. Things are fine as they are. Maybe you even hate me for what I did to your father and grandfather in the south," Jon said.

The boy must have heard news about the two Jon Umbers, and he might have felt remorse — Jon had even condemned them for the rest of the war. They never made it back from the battlefield after he used his Thu'um.

"I understand that they suffered on the battlefield, my lord. I express no feelings of hatred that might harm our relationship or make it... a difficult one," the boy said politely, though it was clear his fears were guiding him. Whether he hated Jon or not, Jon couldn't tell in that moment.

"Alright. I'll leave the castle in your hands. Now, I want the banquet hall prepared for tonight — I want to bring my wife here to have a meal. She's never eaten inside a hall before, so I'd like to reserve your banquet room," Jon said, as Val raised an eyebrow at him.

"Of course, my lord. We'll do that!" the maester murmured, leading Ned away as Jon left with Val after gathering a few letters.

He went on to coordinate his men, asking most of them to return to the camp and informing them about the banquet, which would take place in the castle.

Dinner was peaceful, with roasted meat and ale, while he sat with Val and Ygritte at the main table, sharing it with the cautious Ned.

Both wives asked curious questions as they looked around the hall, and even the boy asked a few things, intrigued by the adventures Jon had lived through in his nearly 22 namedays of life.

They slept in the castle, and Jon organized the camp the next day as they began their march to Karhold.

It was during that time — three days into the journey — that they came across someone interesting along the road, as men bearing Umber banners appeared, bringing a young, hooded woman.

When she approached and revealed her face, Jon recognized her. She was a girl he'd seen in Winterfell on a few special occasions, sparking memories from the time he and Robb were younger, as she had been their age back then.

"You're Alys Karstark. Why did you choose to come to me, two days away from your castle, when we're about to take it?" Jon asked, knowing she was the official heir, with her brother captured in the south.

"I came to find you, Daemon Targaryen... I need your help. My uncle, in the past few days, took the castle by force after learning what happened at Last Hearth. He plans to kill me in the process to claim lordship over Karhold, since I'm the last heir. I even have a brother... but with the uncertainty of whether he's still alive or dead in the south, and no news at all..." she said, as Jon observed her for a moment before allowing a slight smile.

"Alright. Let's talk. It's still midday. You're welcome to join us. We'll speak when I ask my men to raise the tents," Jon said, and she nodded.

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