Chapter 199: Chapter 199: Waiting for War

Jacob appeared a short distance from Castle Black with Davos, Victoria, the unconscious Shireen, Melisandre’s body, and his new army.

He turned to the two thousand soldiers who had sworn allegiance to him.

"Stay here for now," he commanded. "You are not going to participate in the war against Stannis. You will only watch."

Then he teleported again and reappeared next to Sansa with Victoria, Davos, the unconscious Shireen, and the body of Melisandre.

Allison, Lydia, and Malia jumped down from atop Castle Black’s battlements, landing lightly on the snow-covered ground.

Lydia’s eyes sparkled. "I heard your speech to those men. I saw how you cut through ten of them with your sword." She bit her lip. "That was hot. I like that serious side of you."

Jacob winked at her, then his gaze shifted to Melisandre’s body.

Allison asked, "So you’ve made up your mind? You’re going to rule Westeros?"

Jacob nodded, his eyes never leaving the Red Woman’s corpse. "Yes."

Stiles dismounted his horse, walked to Jacob, and looked down at Melisandre’s crumpled form. Her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Her eyes were still open, glassy and vacant.

"She’s dead, right?" Stiles asked. "Then why did you bring her body?"

Jacob smirked and looked at Stiles. "She’s hot. And since you’re into necrophilia, I thought you’d like her dead body. You’re welcome."

Stiles’s face turned red. "For the thousandth time, I am not into necrophilia!"

Allison and the others who understood what necrophilia meant burst out laughing.

Stiles sighed heavily. "Enough joking. Why did you really bring her?"

Jacob’s smirk faded. "Because I want to see if I can make that thing behind her show itself." He turned to Melisandre’s body and raised his voice. "Get up, you old hag. I know you aren’t dead."

Stiles blinked. "She’s not dead? Look at how crooked her neck is!"

Lydia crossed her arms. "She’s definitely not dead."

Malia smirked. "Let me help you wake her."

She shot a ball of electricity from her hand. The blue-white bolt struck Melisandre’s body, making it jerk and convulse on the ground.

Melisandre screamed.

She stopped pretending to be dead.

Jon wasn’t surprised anymore by Jacob and his people’s abilities. The ball of lightning from Malia’s hand barely registered. His focus was on the screaming woman on the ground.

Samwell and Edd, now standing by Jon’s side, had forgotten about the lightning bolt that had shocked them moments ago. They watched with wide eyes as Melisandre’s body stopped convulsing, her neck cracked and fixed itself, and she stood up.

She was still looking at Jacob in terror.

Jacob locked his gaze onto Melisandre. But it was like he was looking at something else—something deep in her eyes, deep within her soul.

"Get out," Jacob commanded. "Show yourself, R’hllor. I can feel your disgusting presence hiding inside this old hag."

Melisandre froze. Her breath caught in her throat. But nothing happened.

Jacob’s lips curled into a mocking smirk. He let out a sharp, condescending laugh.

"What? Are you afraid of me?" he taunted. "How about you come out and face me? Better yet, since you know exactly where I am, why don’t you come here with your true body and fight me?" His voice hardened. "I can feel a sickening greed radiating from this woman, and I know it isn’t hers—it’s yours. I can feel how desperately you hunger for my flesh, my blood, my powers."

He continued, "Come and try to take my body with your own hands, you pathetic coward. Or tell me what wretched hole you’re hiding in, and I will gladly come down there and rip you out of it myself."

Still, nothing happened. Melisandre just kept staring at Jacob in terror.

Jacob sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "You call yourself a lord, but you’re nothing but a parasite. Hiding in the dark like a rat, begging starving peasants to burn their own children just so you can feed." His voice dripped with contempt. "You have no power of your own. You’re just a weak, starving beggar living on lies and suffering."

He took a step closer. "You’re a demon. Doing what demons always do—deceiving people. You demand the blood of men, women, and the innocent. You trick your followers into worshiping a false lord, offering them in return a few parlor tricks and a flicker of flames that would die in the smallest gust of wind. If you truly possess even a shred of the power you claim to have, stop hiding. Come out and face me, you coward."

Finally, there was a reaction.

Melisandre’s terrified face went blank. Then she screamed again, clutching her head. Fire ignited around her body. Two horns made of flame appeared on top of her head. The fire around her began to take the shape of a monstrous entity—bat-like wings, a hideous head with multiple horns, eyes burning like twin suns.

Jon, Samwell, and Edd backed away from the heat.

Jon’s eyes went wide as he stared at the fire monster surrounding Melisandre’s body. "What is that thing?"

Jacob didn’t look away from the creature. "That’s R’hllor. The creature people worship as the Lord of Light."

Melisandre spoke—but it was not her voice. It was deep, monstrous, ancient.

"Mortal. How dare you call a god a coward and a rat."

Jacob smirked. "Oh please. You’re no god. You’re just a greedy demon who lends his powers to stupid humans in exchange for their souls and human sacrifices."

"I am no demon, mortal. I am a god. I am the fire that warms all of humanity’s blood. The light that drives back the shadow. I do not ask for sacrifices out of cruelty—I require fuel to lend humanity my strength. Without me, the Night King will turn this world into a frozen grave. I seek only to save you."

Jacob let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "You’re no god. The one true God doesn’t need human sacrifice to fuel His strength. He is all-powerful. He is omnipotent." His eyes narrowed. "You’re just a demon pretending to be a god. You don’t want to defeat the Night King to save humans. No. You’re just protecting your cattle. Dead ice wights don’t have blood to spill or flesh to burn. You need humans alive, terrified, and multiplying—so they keep burning each other in your name."

He took a step forward. "That twisted Azor Ahai prophecy isn’t a promise of salvation. It’s a blueprint for demonic contracts. You didn’t give Azor Ahai a magic sword out of kindness. You demanded that the hero murder the most innocent, loving thing in his life—his own wife—to borrow your fire. You order your believers to burn anyone who doesn’t believe you are a god. You trick desperate kings into burning their own children because you feast on the pain and agony of the sacrifice."

R’hllor’s voice boomed. "I am your only hope against the dark god of ice whom the Night King serves."

Jacob threw his head back and laughed. "You really love the sound of your own lies, don’t you? There is no dark god of ice sitting in the shadows of the far North. The Night King doesn’t serve your made-up false god." His voice turned cold. "The Night King is nothing but a rogue weapon—a piece of dragonglass and old dark magic shoved into a man’s chest by the Children of the Forest when they got desperate. He doesn’t want to bring eternal darkness under the orders of a made-up god. He’s just a weapon gone rogue, trying to fulfill his programming to erase humanity."

The fire monster flickered. R’hllor’s voice softened—became almost kind, almost fatherly.

"I know you do not believe in me, my child. But I only want to save humanity. Let us join hands and defeat the Night King. A dead, frozen world serves neither of us. I will lend you my powers. I will make you even stronger." The fiery eyes shifted, looking past Jacob—at Victoria, Chris, Arya, Stiles, and finally at Kitty with greed. "You only need to sacrifice... that cat to me."

Kitty’s fur bristled. She jumped onto Malia’s shoulder and hissed. "Can we kill the fire bat already?"

Jon, Samwell, and Edd turned to stare at the talking cat in shock.

Malia stroked Kitty’s fur calmly. "We can’t. He’s not really here. He’s hiding in some hole somewhere."

Stiles stepped forward, his arms crossed. "If you were really a god, why not kill the so-called Night King yourself? Save this world from becoming a frozen wasteland?"

Jacob glanced at Stiles. "Because he can’t. The Night King is immune to fire. And even if he could kill him, I don’t think he wants to."

He turned back to R’hllor. "Now, how about you come here with your real body? I really want to fight you. I’ve killed one of your kind before, and I can’t wait to kill another."

R’hllor’s voice turned cold again. "If you will not join me, then I will destroy you."

The fire monster raised both hands. Flames erupted from Melisandre’s palms and engulfed Jacob completely.

"Burn, mortal," R’hllor boomed. "Fuel my powers. I am excited to taste the blood of someone as powerful as you."

The fire roared.

But R’hllor’s laughter died in his throat.

Something was wrong.

He looked around. Jacob’s wives were smiling. Stiles and the others who knew Jacob’s powers were looking at him like he was an idiot.

Kitty yawned. "Fool."

R’hllor turned back to the inferno.

Two red glowing eyes stared at him through the flames.

Then Jacob was suddenly right in front of him, his hand wrapped around Melisandre’s throat, lifting her into the air. His clothes weren’t burned. His skin wasn’t marked. The fire didn’t bother him at all.

R’hllor’s voice trembled. "You are no human. What are you?"

Jacob’s smile was cold. "We’ve talked too much. Let’s end things here today." His eyes glowed brighter. "I’m looking forward to meeting you in person."

He drove his hand into Melisandre’s chest and unleashed his lightning power.

Her body disintegrated. Turned to ash. The fire monster screamed—then vanished.

The ash scattered in the wind.

Jacob dusted off his hands.

Allison asked, "Should we look for him?"

Jacob shook his head. "Actually, I can find him if I want to. I’m just too lazy to go after him yet."

Allison frowned. "How would you find him?"

Jacob reached into his pocket dimension and pulled out a compass. He tossed it to Allison.

"With this. It’s a replica of Jack Sparrow’s compass. It doesn’t point north. It acts as a supernatural navigational tool—it points directly to whatever the person holding it wants most in the world at that moment."

Lydia snatched the compass from Allison’s hand. "Let me see."

She held it. The needle spun—then pointed directly at Jacob.

Lydia grinned. "It really works." She looked at Jacob with a wink. "I really want you right now. I really like Serious Jacob of House Alexander."

Allison snatched the compass back. "Give that back. There are outsiders around us. Stop acting like a horny bitch."

Lydia smirked. "Oh please. I don’t care about outsiders." She nodded at the compass in Allison’s hand. "Besides, look at the compass in your hand and where it’s pointing."

Allison looked down. The compass was pointing at Jacob.

Her face turned crimson.

She threw the compass back to Jacob. "Here. Take your stupid compass back."

Jacob caught it with a smile and put it back in his pocket dimension.

Lydia smiled at Allison. "So, you also want to take him to your room—"

Allison glared at her. "Shut up."

Lydia just laughed.

Jacob said, "Alright. Stannis has only four thousand men left. Probably more will desert his army. I’m giving him five hours to bring more men from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea." He crossed his arms. "So now we wait."

Malia pointed at him. "Jay, you already had your fun. You are not allowed to participate in the war."

Cogman nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes. You are not allowed to participate, sir."

Jacob sighed. "Fine."

He looked at Shireen, who was still in Davos’s arms, her eyes squeezed shut. "Shireen. Stop pretending to be unconscious. Get up."

Shireen opened her eyes. She looked at Jacob warily.

Davos set her down. Jacob walked to her and rubbed her head gently.

"Don’t be afraid. I will not harm you." His voice softened. "I can erase your memories if you want. I can make you forget what your parents did to you. Or I can make you forget they were even your parents." He paused. "Or you can keep your memories. It’s your choice."

Shireen’s eyes filled with tears. "What happened to them? Did you kill them?"

Jacob said, "Your mother is dead. And in a few hours, I will fight your father and his army." He didn’t look away. "I’m not going to lie to you. He will die."

Shireen’s lip trembled. "What about me? What will happen to me?"

Jacob leaned down to her eye level. "Nothing will happen to you. You will stay with us. And I promise—no one will harm you."

Shireen was quiet for a long moment. "I want to keep my memories," she said. Her voice was steadier now. "And I want to be helpful. If you will allow me."

Jacob’s eyebrow rose. "Do you know how to read and write?"

Shireen nodded. "Yes."

Jacob smiled. "Then you will become a teacher. You will teach people how to read and write." He looked at Rickon with a smirk. "Rickon. Come here."

Rickon walked over, looking suspicious.

Jacob patted him on the back. "This idiot will be your first student. Teach him well. Be strict with him."

Rickon’s face fell. "Noooo! I want to learn swordsmanship! I want to become a great warrior! I don’t want to learn how to read and write!"

Sansa caught his ear and twisted gently. "You will learn how to read and write from Shireen. Only then will Jon and Arya teach you how to fight."

Rickon yelped. "Ouch! Ouch! Okay, fine!"

Sansa released him. "Good boy."

Rickon rubbed his ear and looked at Jacob hopefully. "Can I have powers like Arya?"

Jacob nodded. "Learn how to read and write first. Then I’ll ask my son to give you powers like Arya’s."

Rickon’s brow furrowed. "Your son?"

Jacob smirked. "Yeah. He’s a wolf, like Arya." He looked at Stiles. "Where’s Scott, anyway? Why hasn’t he come home yet?"

Stiles said, "The last time I called him, he said he met some older emo biker chick. They agreed to date for a month or two."

Jacob’s eyes widened. "What? Does Melissa know?" His voice sharpened. "How much money did he take with him?"

Stiles winced. "Oops. I shouldn’t have said that." He looked at Jacob pleadingly. "Please don’t tell Melissa. And Scott said Melissa gave him two hundred thousand before he left." He sighed. "That chick is going to take all his money, isn’t she?"

Jacob asked, "What do you think?"

Stiles said, "I think he’ll be lucky if he comes back home with his clothes on." He hesitated. "Should I warn him?"

Jacob waved a hand dismissively. "Nah. Let her teach him a lesson. But if he calls asking for money, don’t send him any."

Stiles nodded. "Got it."

Jacob turned back to Shireen. "Once my wife comes back, I will ask her to heal the scars on your face." He met her eyes. "I’m not lying to you. She really can heal you."

Shireen forgot her sadness and pain. Hope flickered in her eyes. "Really?"

Jacob smiled. "Yes. Sansa and I could heal you too, but it would be very painful. We would have to burn the scars first, then heal them. So let’s wait until Melissa comes back. She can do it without you feeling any pain."

Tears streamed down Shireen’s face. "Thank you," she whispered.

Jacob rubbed her head. "Don’t thank me. Thank Melissa after she heals you."

He walked away. "Rickon, Shireen, Osha—follow me."

He led them to a clearing next to Castle Black’s gate and tossed the capsule. With a puff of smoke, the round, two-story house appeared.

Jacob siad, "Rickon, go in and watch some cartoons with Shireen."

Rickon grabbed Shireen’s hand and ran to the door excitedly. He left his shoes on the porch. Shireen did the same, still wondering where the house had come from, and followed him inside.

Jacob handed Osha a large bag of snacks and sodas. "Here. Go stay with them. Keep them there until the war ends." His voice softened. "Shireen doesn’t need to see what will happen to her father. Even though he tried to burn her... he is still her father."

Osha took the snacks and drinks. "I will, Your Grace."

She went inside the capsule house.

Jacob walked back to Allison and the others.

Davos stepped forward. "Thank you, Your Grace." His voice was thick with emotion. "For saving her. For everything you’ve done for her."

Jacob nodded at him, then called out, "Kai, Ōishi! Bring some of your men to me."

Kai and Ōishi approached with a few samurai. Jacob reached into his pocket dimension and pulled out large quantities of food and drink. He handed them over.

"We still have five hours before the fight with Stannis," Jacob said. "Distribute this to the men. Let them eat and relax for now."

Ōishi bowed. "Thank you, Your Grace."

He, Kai, and the samurai took the food and drinks and began distributing them among the samurai and foot soldiers.

Jacob looked at Jon and smiled. "You’re scared of me, brother-in-law. I can smell your fear."

Malia wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, me too. You stink of fear."

Arya looked at Malia. "Is that what fear smells like?"

Malia nodded.

Arya looked at Jon. "You don’t need to be afraid of Jacob. He’s a good guy. An idiot most of the time." She grinned. "He’s only cruel to his enemies."

Jacob glared at her. "Who are you calling an idiot, you stupid dwarf?"

Arya stuck out her tongue and hid behind Malia.

Jacob shook his head with a smile.

Jon watched the exchange and relaxed slightly.

Jacob took out Jack Sparrow’s compass, looked at it, and said, "I’m going hunting. Those two thousand men who just joined us need to eat. I’ll be back soon."

Malia said, "I’m coming with you."

Stiles and Chris said at the same time, "Me too."

Jacob wrapped the three of them in his telekinesis and teleported in the direction the compass had pointed.

Half an hour later, he returned with dozens of elks—more than enough to feed two thousand men—and a large amount of wood. He dropped them near the soldiers.

"Butcher them and eat," he said.

The men thanked him. He teleported back to Allison and the others with Malia, Stiles, and Chris.

Jacob looked at Jon. "Where is Janos Slynt?"

Jon’s brow furrowed. "Why do you ask?"

Jacob’s voice was cold. "He played a role in the capture and eventual execution of Ned Stark."

Arya, Sansa, and Jon said at the same time, "What?"

Jacob explained. "After Robert Baratheon’s death, Ned counted on Slynt and the Gold Cloaks to help him arrest Cersei Lannister. Instead, Slynt accepted a bribe from Littlefinger and ordered his men to slaughter Ned’s guards." His eyes hardened. "He directly led to your father’s death."

Arya’s eyes glowed yellow. She looked at Jon and growled. "Where is he?"

Jon stared at her glowing eyes, then sighed. "He’s dead. I killed him myself for refusing my orders and insulting my authority in front of the brothers."

Arya’s eyes faded back to normal. "Shame. If he were still alive, I would torture him first. Then I would kill him."

Jon’s voice was concerned. "Arya, you’re too young. You shouldn’t be talking about killing and torturing people." He paused. "Not yet, at least."

Arya smirked. "I’m not young. And I’ve probably killed more people than you."

Jon looked at Jacob.

Jacob shrugged. "Don’t look at me. She was killing people before she met me—before she had powers. Sure, she’s young, but if she didn’t kill, she would be the one dead. She had to survive."

Jon looked at Arya worriedly.

Sansa said, "Don’t worry too much, Jon. Although she’s a killer, she still knows right from wrong." She smiled. "And don’t think about stopping her. She has a list of people she wants to kill—people who wronged our family. She recites their names in her sleep."

Jon looked at Arya. His expression softened. "I guess I should stop thinking of you as a little girl, huh?"

Arya smiled. "Of course. I’m a knight now. Soon my name will be known all around the world. They will call me the She-Wolf." She puffed out her chest. "The first female knight of Westeros."

Jon smiled. "Well, I hope you make a name for yourself, then."

Jacob pulled chairs and food from his pocket dimension. They sat down and ate while talking, waiting for Stannis to prepare his army.

Sansa and Arya sat next to Jon, talking to him about the past and what they had experienced, asking him about what he had experienced as well.

The hours passed.

The snow continued to fall.

And in the distance, Stannis’s camp prepared for war.

To be continued... 😊

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