Fields of Frost

Barely an hour later, Jon was taking cover within the clouds above Riverrun, examining the siege from above with his enhanced eyesight.

From his hiding spot, Jon wondered how to proceed. He could break the siege if he hurled repeated blasts of frost-flame on the enemy ****, catching them off-guard with terror but the Lannister army alone was almost 20 times the number of the host of House Whitehill. So many archers and catapults could become a problem. And that was not counting the main Frey army, easily over 3000 strong.

Jon scratched his chin, considering. "I am going to have to move on their siege weapons and ranks of archers first. Once most of their capacity for ranged warfare has been crushed, the rest of the army will scatter. And if we are lucky, they will run far enough for the Blackfish forces to quickly loot most of the abandoned tents for gold, food, and weapons before I take them North."

However, before he could settle on the first location to strike, he remembered something that might be relevant. The Red Wedding was an outrageous massacre but, from what he had heard, there were a few highly valuable prisoners taken alive. If any of them were close to the Blackfish, this siege would probably be a good time to bring them out.

So, Jon made a wish in silence to learn if any relative of Sansa was currently imprisoned in the Lannister-Frey camp. The answer made him blink.

"Uncle Edmure Tully," He muttered. "That complicates things."

Deciding he needed more information before risking the life of the heir of Riverrun, he wished he would be able to see and hear what Sansa's uncle was experiencing right then and there. As the new sight came into focus, however, Jon realized he would have scowled if he had control of Edmure's face.

"Jamie Lannister," Jon muttered from the clouds. "It has been a while. Very well, let's hope you are in the mood to spill your plans, Kingslayer."

And the new god began to listen.

Two hours passed since he began and in that time, Jon's opinion of Jamie Lannister dropped and dropped the more he heard. By the time he threatened to **** his firstborn babe if he didn't cooperate and surrendered Riverrun to House Frey, Jon gritted his teeth, wanting to freeze him in his suit of armor just on principle. Still, he decided to wait so that he could more easily ruin that cowardly plan. As a result, Jon remained out of sight with the night as his cover until Jamie figured he had terrorized Edmure enough to take the gamble. And so the formerly imprisoned heir of Riverrun demanded entry, which was granted after what was clearly a heated discussion between the Blackfish and the keep's castellan.

Jon decided that he wasn't interested in giving Edmure the time to choose between betraying his family home or sentencing his only son to die. The Lannisters put him in a very complicated spot and his reputation as heir to one of the Great Houses would be heavily tainted, either way, to say nothing about all the regret he would feel. So, before his sister's uncle could reach the walls and make up his mind, Jon informed his mighty mount through their bond that the time had finally come.

And so, the unmistakable roar of a dragon echoed across the Trident.

The Blackfish had been hurrying to follow his nephew to the wall, hoping against hope he would have the strength of will not to tell the men to surrender. But when he reached the walls, his head wasn't the only one that twisted around to look for the source of that sudden roar.

And so it was that the seasoned veteran of House Tully that was battle-tested in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, Robert's Rebellion, and the War of the Five Kings gasped in shock for the first time in years when he saw a dragon descend from the clouds.

Before he could even register the possibility of danger, the ice-blue behemoth opened its strong jaws and let loose a wave of blue that he almost mistook for fire until it froze tents and soldiers alike in a matter of seconds. The shouts of alarm from the Lannister-Frey forces resonated from below and he watched as more flashes of frost decimated the ranks of archers.

The defenders of the castle walls looked on, stunned at what they were witnessing. Eventually, Edmure found his voice.

"Did...did an Ice Dragon and his rider came to our aid?" He asked with wide eyes.

"It seems that way..." Blackfish replied, scarcely able to believe his own eyes.

They continued to watch as the duo laid waste to the flank that had the catapults and trebuchets. A few squads of braver archers did manage to fire some arrows but none found their mark, and they were soon killed with ice that made the harshest winter seem warm. Before long, the horses were panicking and tried to flee, some with their riders in tow despite their objections. After a few more minutes of freezing deaths, the army had enough and broke ranks running in every direction without any sort of coordination, the frightened men only seeking to get away from the draconic menace.

At that, the dragon and his rider followed and kept blasting frost through their ranks for around fifteen more minutes, covering the fields and part of the Trident river with pale white corpses by the thousands. But eventually, the dragon turned around and let the remaining soldier flee, its roar of victory echoing across the field.

The Blackfish and Edmure tensed as the Dragon turned to them and the defenders raised their bows in alarm on instinct. But before they could fire, the dragon slowed down and lowered its neck.

And that was when the pair of them recognized the rider. The experienced commander's jaw dropped to the floor when he realized it was his late King's half-brother...the Bastard of Winterfell.

"Greetings my Lords," Jon Snow said with a curt bow and a satisfied grin. "It has been a while. Would you please grant us entry? I am afraid my dragon's wings are tired by now and we have much to discuss."