Ursa Major | Tormund Giantsbane

Chapter 22

Almost all the fallen had already burned.

Among them were Edd, Beric Dondarrion, Lyanna Mormont, Ser Jorah, Melisandre, and Theon Greyjoy. They and thousands of others had died protecting their people, never again forced to suffer a war with their brethren.

This had been their Last War.

Most of those they burned as they went were still able to be identified for the final tally. They were laid on a series of long pyres, silent and waiting for their loved ones to say goodbye. Sansa held onto Theon's body tightly, Daenerys kissed Jorah's cold face, Thyrsa and Sam stood over Edd and Lyanna simultaneously with blank faces and heavy hearts.

Thyrsa had never truly seen the end of a war. She'd fought for Robb and watched their soldiers be massacred at the Red Wedding, but the war had continued as their battle had been cut short. This was the first time she could truly sit and stare at all the bodies, to watch people come together and mourn.

They stood together, Northerners, Southerners, Dothraki, and Unsullied. Some of them would have never interacted in their lifetime if it hadn't been for this war.

And some would never interact with anyone ever again.

Thyrsa went to stand with her sisters and Smalljon, the four of them bruised and bloody but alive. She reached her hand out to caress Ghost's head, the poor thing having lost an ear. He was a brave warrior, but she wondered how much the animals around them could even understand. He seemed to know what she was thinking, nudging her leg with his paw and trying to comfort her. It brought a weak smile to her face.

Jon spoke over them as his men held torches and waited for his signal, "We're here to say goodbye to our brothers and sisters. To our fathers and mothers. To our friends. Our fellow men and women who set aside their differences to fight together... and die together... so that others might live. Everyone in this world owes them a debt that can never be repaid. It is our duty and our honor to keep them alive in memory for those who come after us and those who come after them, for as long as men draw breath. They were the shields that guarded the realms of men. And we shall never see their like again."

The men swept forward at his nod, handing the torches to everyone who reached out for one. They each went to the pyre containing the ones they cared for and let the torch fall. Tormund stood with Thyrsa to light Edd and Lyanna's pyre, then took the torch from her to light the one containing his fallen wildlings.

They united in celebration with a large dinner, the Great Hall filled with so many people that Winterfell could scarcely contain them.

"I've already sent ravens to White Harbor," said Smalljon as they ate hungrily, having imagined they'd never be fed again after that battle. "Astrid and Tory will bring back all the children who settled there until the battle had been won. The crypt wasn't broken into, thank all the gods. They're safe."

"Maja and Munda will be pleased to return," said Tormund, gnawing on a chicken bone, having consumed every last bit of flesh it had on it. He'd already taken several horns of mead, and nothing seemed to fill him. "They like the castle, think it's pretty."

"You know," said Esther, "if you two do decide to disappear into the Gift or beyond-the-Wall with the other wildlings... Last Hearth will always be made available to them. If, when they're older, the girls want to live there, our doors will be open."

Thyrsa smiled, "Thank you, Esther. I suppose... it'll be quiet there, in a short time. The children will grow. Wendel will assume the seat at White Harbor, the twins will rule at Hornwood and Sigrid, you'll likely follow them there while Esther stays with the younger ones at Last Hearth. Ned will eventually be its lord... gods, they grow so fast. I still remember hold them all when they were born. And now, they are set to be the rulers of the next generation..."