CHAPTER 71 | LAST WISH OF HONOR

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"SAY SOMETHING" - MADILYN BAILEY & RUNAGROUND

THE ride to the North was quicker than Maia expected. She hadn't particularly realized how much faster a dragon could fly than on horseback, but she probably should've supposed that.

From beyond the fog and snowflakes, Daenerys spotted a flaming sword. She pointed towards it, screaming over the winds, "Is that someone who traveled with Jon?"

"I believe so!" Maia guessed, trying her best to be heard over the whisking air.

They came towards the action carefully. There was a small group nestled on top of a rock in the middle of a frozen lake, and an army, growing by the thousands, attacking them from the bottom. The army, blue-eyed and peeling skin, crawled along the ground towards the group. Maia saw a tall man fighting below, along with a male with a flaming sword. She saw Tormund and possibly Jorah. She even saw a woman fighting with them. And at last, she spotted Jon in the middle of it, stabbing his dragonglass dagger into the heart of a corpse.

When they were finally close enough to make out what was near them, Daenerys shouted, "DRACARYS!" All three dragons lit up the dead in flames. The dark blue skies were now brightening with dragon fire as they flew in. As Drogon steadied his movements, Maia unlatched her arms from Daenerys' waist. She plucked an arrow from her bag and set it on the bow, sending it barreling towards the slaughter. The dragonglass arrow flew down and punctured a corpse, who then flew into another corpse, and another, and another.

Jon's group waited atop of the mountain, watching the dragons blow the area around them to smithereens. Jon looked ahead to Drogon, spotting not one, but two heads on it. Daenerys steered Drogon to the side, and that was when Jon saw her: Maia Sanders, sitting on Drogon, and shooting arrows towards the army of the undead. "No," he whispered under his breath. She couldn't be here. She couldn't be in a fight like this. She was ... pregnant, was she not? Jon found himself losing balance as he thought of the inevitable. She would only be here if she felt she had to be. Had she ... lost their child? Was she okay?

Drogon jumped onto the snowy ground, blasting fire to the undead coming his way. Jon pushed his way through his group to watch Maia send arrows towards the army of the dead every minute. She must be using dragonglass arrows, and he could only guess Daenerys had them forged. The arrows were turning the corpses around them to ash.

The group ran for the dragon, but corpses followed their way. Jon sprinted for Drogon and tried to grab for Daenerys' hand as Maia was distracted, but had to then plunge his sword into a Wight. Maia watched her try to hop on the dragon again as others did, and she reached her hand outwards more than she could manage, which caused her to tumble off of Drogon.

Maia fell into a snow pile with a crash, causing her head to pound but she managed to get up. It was then that she saw two Wights charging towards herself on the ground. She screamed and latched an arrow on her brow, sending it towards the Wight and killing it instantly. Just as the other was about to reach her, Jon plunged his sword into the corpse. The two fell to ashes.

Jon spun on his heel to Maia, holding his hands on her shoulders tightly. "What are you doing here?!" He yelled over the howling winds.

"I came to save you!" She exclaimed back, feeling tears begin to brim her eyes. "I ... I'm not pregnant anymore. I lost it. If the gods wouldn't let me save that child, I knew I had to save you."

Jon wanted to hug her. He wanted to kiss her to his heart's content. He wanted to stay with her in Winterfell and hold their child. He wanted this war to be over. He wanted all these things he knew he couldn't have as he stared into her golden eyes, shining bright over the dragon fire around them. He held her shoulders so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

Maia glanced to their right. "Watch out!" She shoved him behind her and launched a dragonglass arrow towards a Wight charging at them, killing it instantly.

"Jon!" Jorah shrieked from atop the dragon, but could barely be heard over the wind.

Freya Greyjoy sprinted from the snowy ground towards the party, grabbing for Maia, a woman she did not know in the slightest. "You need to get back on the dragon," Freya ordered, venom laced in her tone.

Maia felt herself being dragged by the foreign woman, and she snatched her arm away. "Let me get Jon!" She ran to Jon's side, sending another arrow to the army of the dead, and thus killing four Wights with that one arrow. Freya watched on with worry before climbing Drogon.

None of them saw what was coming. None of them saw the Night King. None of them saw the spears in the White Walkers hands. Maybe they should've paid more attention.

Maia saw the spear fly above her head as she pulled back on an arrow. She watched it soar over the whispering winds. She saw the spear pierce Viserion's scales, causing him to shriek, and eventually, fall down. The dragon went down in flames, crashing to the ice and falling into the water. His brothers roared. Daenerys watched the slaughter with wide eyes, feeling tears fill her lids. Her child. He was gone.

Jon's mouth went agape at the sight of the fallen dragon. They were all distracted. They didn't see the second spear. One of the Night King's men handed him the spear, and the King of the Undead threw it. He watched them stare at the dragon falling into the cracked water. None of them saw.

Jon began to drag Maia back as he stabbed another Wight in the gut. "No!" He looked back, shouting to Daenerys, "NO! NO! LEAVE!"

That was when the spear plunged in her stomach.

Jon didn't have a moment to pull her away, because he was then brought into the freezing ocean.

Maia flew backwards, into another snow pile. Her head hit the ice, and she began to feel the back get sticky with blood. She landed on her back as she opened her eyes slowly. Her hands immediately went to her gut, and then her eyes went wide. She screamed at the sight of all the blood. It was pouring out of her and she couldn't stop it.

Daenerys scrambled to slide off of Drogon. "MAIA!" She called, before Jorah hastily dragged her back on the dragon.

"We have to leave them!" He exclaimed. "We will not make it out alive if we don't leave right now."

Daenerys nodded slowly, feeling tears slip down her cheeks. Maia tried to pull the spear out, but she couldn't. She saw the water where Jon had fallen bubble, but he didn't resurface. Maia began to choke on her own sobs as her blood filled the snow. Daenerys heard Maia scream one last time before she steered Drogon and Rhaegal out of the fight.

•••

Jon gasped for air as he came up from the water. He grabbed for Longclaw, which sat conveniently by the ice he clung to. Jon spit out the water from his throat. He coughed as he tried to find the air from his lungs that were filled with water. He began to pull himself up from the water, which took all the strength left in his body.

When he slid himself onto the ice, he rested his head on the ground and breathed. Jon gasped loudly, clutching Longclaw tightly in his grasp. Things hadn't happened the way they did. None of this was real. He, ever so slowly, looked up.

And there was Maia, sitting in a snow bank, a spear shoved in her gut with her blood spilling everywhere.

Jon ran towards her, hoping she still had a pulse. He fell to his knees when he saw her, tears falling down his face, as if he lost everything that mattered most in the world. In actuality, he did.

He watched her eyes hesitantly slide to his. She coughed loudly, kicking her dragonglass arrows towards him. "T – Take them," she said, her voice extremely hoarse.

He looked at her with watery eyes before hooking the arrows and bow on his back. Jon looked around him, from the army of Wights to Maia. He grabbed hold of the spear in her gut, whispering, "You're not going to die, Maia." He threw the spear to the ground.

"I ..." She hacked up spit. "I don't have anything anymore. Let me die."

Jon shook his head and held her face firmly. "No," he replied, "you have me. I don't care if you lost the child. You have me. We will survive together."

"I served my purpose."

"You have not finished that purpose!" He exclaimed. She felt his tears fall on her face as he sobbed relentlessly.

Maia decided not to look at him anymore. She closed her eyes, for he didn't understand and he wouldn't ever understand. Maia felt her entire being leave her body. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to lose their child. They shouldn't have ever traveled to Dragonstone, or they wouldn't be in this situation right now. The pain of the spear still sat within her. Her blood was sticking to the ground. She didn't want this, but maybe this was Melisandre's purpose for her all along. She, as the Traveler, had aided the Prince Who Was Promised to his final point, and now he must face the Great Other alone.

"Make sure you burn my body when I'm gone. I don't want them turning me into ... that." Maia bit her lip so hard she drew blood, but that was the least of her worries. She opened her eyes and slowly lifted her hand to Longclaw in Jon's hands. "Can ... can you just –"

He knew what she was asking him to do. "No," he whispered.

"I don't want them to be the reason that I died," Maia persuaded. She felt a sob rise from her throat. "I want you to do it. Please, just put me out of this suffering. End it now."

Jon shook his head before placing a kiss on her lips. They were cold and scabbed. She didn't feel like the Maia he once knew. She was gone. "I love you too much," Jon sobbed loudly, grabbing her cold hand tightly. Maia couldn't feel his hold. "Why would you ask that of me?"

"Because it's what the honorable King in the North would do."

Jon blinked, feeling the tears on his cheeks freeze due to the air around them. He held Longclaw in front of Maia's chest with her hand in his other arm. She waited for another stab dutifully, and Jon watched her face contort. His hand left her own as it then went to her cold cheek. Frost clung to the sides of it. "What was I before you, Maia Sanders?"

Maia's eyes opened once more, and the bright golden hue they once held dulled to subtle grey, like a storm. Because, in the end, Maia would always be the small storm in his life. Her head lifted just the slightest bit; her gaze held power, even as blood dripped from her stomach to the snow. Her mouth curled into a smirk as she said, "Nothing."

Jon sank Longclaw into her chest, diving deep into her heart. When he pulled out the sword, he felt Longclaw glow almost. The sword seemed to hold a new warmth within itself, as if it was on fire and he couldn't see it. The steel began to glimmer faintly of orange, but Jon didn't notice this fact. He felt himself want to vomit. His whole being cracked as the light fled from Maia's body. "Don't ... forget who ... you are," Maia choked out, "J - Jaehaerys." Her mouth opened again, but didn't move. Her eyes went blank at the sky. Her pulse did not exist. Jon held a hand to his mouth and cried, not even paying mind to the name she had faintly muttered.

Hearing the familiar sound of Wights, Jon lifted his head to see a small army of them charging his way. He managed to pull himself upward with the help of his bloodied sword. He then lifted Maia's stained body in the other arm, holding her close to his chest. He brought out Longclaw carefully, knowing he wouldn't be able to fight off a pack of Wights with only one arm. If this was how he died, he wanted it to be with Maia in his arms.

But fate had another plan for him. Barreling into the storm of Wights was a black horse, ridden by a masked man with a flaming ball and chain. Jon furrowed his brow at the sight of the man, holding Maia even closer to him. The man knocked out several Wights before stopping his horse before Jon and jumping off of it. He removed his scarf to reveal a familiar face.

"Uncle Benjen," Jon breathed out in shock.

Benjen Stark didn't have a moment to spare. He hoisted Jon up on his horse quickly, confusion racking his brain as to why his nephew held the corpse of a woman in his arms. "Ride for the Pass," he ordered.

Jon cradled a bloodied Maia carefully as he said, "Come with me."

"There's no time!" Benjen excused before running off. He slapped the behind of the horse, causing it to run off. "GO!"

Jon looked over his shoulder and watched Benjen fight off the Wights. He cradled Maia close as the horse raced through the snow, muttering, "We'll be okay, Maia. We'll be okay." Jon glanced back at Benjen once again, watching his uncle be swarmed by the army of the dead.