INTRO

9.1 EXT: FLEA BOTTOM – MORNING

King’s Landing is slowly coming to life. Stalls are unpacked, chamberpots emptied into gutters, shutters and doors thrown open to admit the morning air, still fresh and crisp before the thousand-and-one stinks of the city turn it fetid and rank.

A pair of Gold Cloaks pull a small wooden wagon down a narrow back alley, stopping by a middle-aged woman in a filthy apron waiting by an open door. 

BAKER

You’re late.

GOLD CLOAK

These take longer to catch than rats.

The woman leans back into the doorway.

BAKER

Oi! Delivery! Come make yourself useful!

A young man appears from within. The woman pulls back the canvas covering the wagon and inspects the three naked cadavers underneath, each baring more deep sword slashes than the last.

BAKER [CONT’D]

Bloody hell, these are practically minced already.

GOLD CLOAK

All part of the service.

The woman leaves the others to their labours and walks inside. She passes through her shop and out the front door onto the street.

BAKER

Meat pies! Come get your meat pies! Finest filling in King’s Landing!

S.E: thunder.

In an instant, the bright morning is plunged into darkness as heavy black stormclouds gather over the city. The BAKER interrupts her patter to hold out a hand, her brow furrowed with confusion as the first flakes of snow melt in her palm.

S.E: crashing wood.

Tracing the commotion to a nearby alleyway, the BAKER joins a small crowd investigating its origins. Stepping over splintered wood and broken boards, she approaches a large stack of crates arranged at the entrance to an alleyway, her gaze tracking up to an enormous tear in the canopy of cloth suspended overhead.

A wight launches itself over the remaining crates and sinks its teeth into the BAKER’s throat.

S.E: screams of terror.

9.2 EXT: GARDENS OF THE RED KEEP – MORNING

In the gardens of the Red Keep, the most understated royal wedding in the history of Westeros is about to begin. A white wooden trellis frames the aisle, bordered on either side by two modest banks of witnesses. There are no familiar faces here, only minor lords and ladies, servants, waiting women, and a ragtag assemblage of low-level functionaries. EURON waits in excited anticipation beside the SEPTON at the head of the aisle.

S.E: bride’s entrance music.

CERSEI enters the garden, her arm linked with QYBURN’s, and walks the aisle to EURON’s side. She wears a newly-tailored red and gold gown but otherwise has made no concessions to the occasion: no white dress, no veil, no cape bearing her family’s sigil. EURON beams at her proudly, but CERSEI can only summon the thinnest of smiles.

9.3 EXT: SHORE OF THE BLACKWATER – MORNING

At the water’s edge, a pair of wizened old fisherman sit with baited line. In place by the time the sun first broke that morning, the two old boys doze peacefully to the soothing rhythm of the Blackwater lapping at the pebble-stone shore.

S.E: loud splash

Startled awake, the first of the men topples off his rock, while the second leaps to his feet and snatches reflexively for his fishing rod. He only barely manages to wrap his hand around the wood before a heavy weight pulls on the line and threatens to snatch the rod away. The first fisherman, recovered from his fall, adds his own strength to that of his friend, and together they retreat backwards up the waterfront, wrestling manfully with their underwater adversary.

Gradually, their catch begins to emerge from the Blackwater: the fisherman’s line loops up through the wight’s nasal cavity and out it’s hollow left eye-socket, the rusted hook hanging like macabre jewellery below its cheekbone.

The wight charges the fishermen and tackles the first off his feet. The second turns and runs inland as fast as his arthritic legs will carry him.

9.4 EXT: GARDENS OF THE RED KEEP – MORNING

SEPTON

My lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. We shall now bind their hands, one to the other, symbolising the bond that unites these two souls into one, indivisible whole.

EURON and CERSEI each hold out a hand and the SEPTON proceeds to bind them together with a gold ribbon. Those in attendance cannot help but notice the curious gloom that has so quickly enveloped the city.

CERSEI

Let’s hurry this along, shall we?

The SEPTON is taken aback. EURON leans in conspiratorially.

EURON

You’ll have to forgive my love’s impatience. She’s eager to get to the bedding.

The SEPTON returns to his knot, but stops in surprise at the sight of snowflakes settling on CERSEI and EURON’s bound hands.

SEPTON

Look upon each other and say the words: Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.

CERSEI & EURON

Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.

S.E: distant screams.

A low hum of confused muttering breaks out among the wedding party, heads turning in curiosity towards the city. QYBURN puts his finger to his lips and shushes the congregation.

9.5 EXT: WEALTHY DISTRICT OF KING’S LANDING – MORNING

A pair of plump little lords play on the grass of their stately family home, a beleaguered servant sweeping a broom through the family stables in the background.

S.E: crashing sound; frightened horses.

Urged on by her two young charges, the servant reluctantly creeps into the stables. At their rear, she looks up to find a gaping hole in the wooden roof directly over a large pile of hay, a pile of hay now rustling inexplicably. She extends a tentative hand.

The wight explodes from the hay and drives a sword into the servant’s stomach. Limping heavily on a broken leg, its jaw hanging loose from its hinges, the wight turns to pursue the little lords fleeing across the lawn.

S.E: screaming children.

9.6 EXT: GARDENS OF THE RED KEEP – MORNING

S.E: distant screams.

CERSEI

I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.

EURON [SIMULTANEOUSLY]

I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.

S.E: distant screams, growing in number.

Now even the SEPTON cannot ignore the noise. Like the wedding guests, he cranes his head towards the city. QYBURN hurries to the head of the aisle.

QYBURN

Ladies and gentlemen, I beg you, let us return our attention to the ceremony!

EURON and CERSEI look at one another, as confused as everyone else. EURON draws the Septon’s attention back to the business at hand.

EURON

Perhaps the queen is right: let’s get to the point, shall we?

The SEPTON knows he has lost his audience, and under pressure from EURON’s “speed it up” hand waving, he rattles through his lines.

SEPTON [QUICKLY]

Let it be known that Queen Cersei of the House Lannister and Euron of the House Greyjoy are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.

S.E: dragon roar.

All eyes turn skyward, peering into the thick black clouds overhead…

Viserion bursts from cover and swoops down over the gardens of the Red Keep. The ribbon tying EURON’s hand to CERSEI’s tears apart as CERSEI flees towards the castle. The NIGHT KING brings Viserion around again, and this time the dragon lets loose a blast of intense blue flame. The top of the Red Keep explodes. The towers that for three-hundred years served as sentries keeping watch over King’s Landing are reduced to rubble and ash in a matter of seconds.

Viserion wheels around time and again, unleashing another blast on every pass. A terrified swarm of Lannister soldiers scurry out of the barracks like ants from a hill. The very ground beneath their feet quakes then crumbles as the sea-facing wall of the Red Keep collapses, taking with it into the sea the greater part of the overhanging cliff-face on which it stood.

CERSEI, EURON, and QYBURN reach the Great Hall. Through a hole where the west wall used to be, they see VISERION coming around for another pass. The ceiling of the connecting chambers buckle, then collapses. The tremor brings the nearest wall crumbling down, the avalanche of rock bearing directly for CERSEI. EURON leaps forward, covering her with his own body. Their fate appears to be sealed until the MOUNTAIN materialises from the dust clouds all about and puts his body between them and the debris. CERSEI looks at EURON’s face, shocked at his chivalry, then with cynical understanding at his hand placed protectively over her stomach.

The MOUNTAIN effortlessly scoops CERSEI up in his arms and he and EURON follow QYBURN through a collapsing archway and down the connecting staircase only a second before the Great Hall itself explodes beneath a sustained salvo from VISERION.

9.7 EXT: WINTERFELL GODSWOOD – DAY

BRAN stands by the weirwood tree in Winterfell’s Godswood, the trees beauteous in the first full bloom of summer. He hears a happy whistling somewhere in the distance, but growing closer.

BRAN

Hello?

From among the trees stroll two familiar faces.

BRAN

Osha! Maester Luwin!

OSHA

Pleased to see us, little lord?

MAESTER LUWIN laughs as BRAN throws his arms around him.

MAESTER LUWIN

Gods, how you’ve grown!

BRAN

Who’s that whistling?

In answer to his question, HODOR lumbers into the clearing.

BRAN

Hodor!

HODOR

Hello, Bran.

BRAN

You can talk!

HODOR [GRINNING AT OSHA]

When she lets me.

OSHA

He’s been making up for lost time, believe you me.

BRAN

But…how?

HODOR

When you pass through the veil between worlds, it’s like starting fresh. Everything you carried in life just…floats away.

BRAN looks aghast. He lifts his shirt to reveal his wound from the NIGHT KING’s blade: the skin around the ragged hole in his abdomen has turned black as a rotten apple.

BRAN

Am I…have I passed through?

LUWIN

Not yet, but close enough that we can reach you. On this side, there’s no more secrets, no such thing as mysteries. There’re some things we need to show you.

OSHA points across the Godswood to the open entrance to Winterfell’s crypt.

OSHA

It’s down that way, Little Lord.

BRAN

You’re not coming with me?

HODOR

Always.

BRAN hugs HODOR, then walks towards the entrance to the crypt.

9.8 EXT: RUINS OF THE RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

Viserion circles the ruins of the Red Keep. The obscuring snow falls so heavily now that the castle is discernible only as a malformed skeleton hunched on its hill. The top of the central tower is destroyed, the throne room exposed to the open sky.

Descending deftly as a bird on a branch, Viserion lands on its floor. The NIGHT KING slides down from the dragon’s back and unceremoniously dumps his cargo onto the ground. His hands bound behind his back, JON SNOW has no way to break his fall.

Viserion flaps his great wings and takes back to the sky. JON struggles into a sitting position and watches as the NIGHT KING casually strolls up the steps…and sits upon the Iron Throne.

JON

Why did you bring me here? Why am I still alive? Cut me free, and lets be done with this, one way or the other.

S.E: “clack” of wood on stone.

JON traces the sound to the end of the platform, where the doors to the throne room once stood. From the final turn of the staircase slowly emerges a bent and haggard figure shrouded against the snow by a worn red cloak faded almost pink. The hunched stranger shuffles towards JON, using their wooden cane as much for ballast as a walking aide, creeping forward as though a stiff breeze might blow them to their death. The figure stops before JON and with a hand as gnarled and coarse as a vulture’s talon, pushes back its hood. The pale liver-spotted skin that stretches thin as silk over the skull sags and folds about the chin and neck. Pinhole eyes, varnished milky white with cataracts, survey JON from their cavernous sockets. JON squints back, as though trying to bring the old crone into clearer focus.

MELISANDRE

You look troubled, Jon Snow? Can young hearts really be so fickle that you’ve forgotten me already?

JON struggles to reconcile the voice he recognises with the face he doesn’t. Only then does he think to take in the faded red robes, the choker with its lustreless red stone.

JON

Melisandre?

MELISANDRE

For a while longer, yes.

MELISANDRE slowly turns to address the NIGHT KING where he sits impassively observing from his throne.

MELISANDRE [CONT’D]

You’ll forgive me if I don’t kneel, Your Grace. Old bones…stone floors…the indignities of age never cease.

JON

What happened to you?

MELISANDRE

Only what happens to us all, eventually. The duration of my service outran the days of my natural life, but The Lord of Light permitted me a brief stay of execution.

MELISANDRE touches the choker at her neck. The stone at its centre, once a pulsating, luminous red, is as dull as an old copper penny.

MELISANDRE[CONT’D]

And I passed it on to you.

JON looks equal parts disbelieving and appalled.

MELISANDRE [CONT’D]

You thought your resurrection came without a price? Only death can pay for life, Jon Snow. When I gave you back your life, mine became forfeit.

MELISANDRE finds a pile of rubble, painfully eases herself down and takes a seat.

JON

I didn’t know. I’d never have asked anyone to…Why would you do that? Why throw away your life for a stranger?

MELISANDRE only smiles, her lips peeling back to reveal a toothless mouth of naked gums.

MELISANDRE

Even after all the mistakes I made, still I allowed myself to be blinded my own self-importance. I really did believe it was my part to play: the bringing together of ice and fire. But the Lord of Light had one final lesson in humility: Lyanna of the House Stark. Rhaegar of the House Targaryen. Aegon Targaryen their issue. Ice and fire were already joined…in you, Jon Snow.

JON shakes his head, as though trying to dislodge the very notion. His mind churning, he looks around desperately, searching for some source of consolation, some hidden refutation of the words he’s hearing.

JON

My father was Ned Stark. I never knew my mother. Lyanna and Rhaegar…I…I don’t…

MELISANDRE

There’s was a love that knew no equal, not even that which Eddard Stark bore his little sister, the sister that from her deathbed made him swear to keep her son safe from Robert Baratheon’s wroth.

JON

My father was an honourable man…he couldn’t…he wouldn’t lie to me all my life.

MELISANDRE

No, only for all of his. He knew all too well that the hard, lonely service of the Nights Watch was not the life Lyanna would have chosen for her son, but as the executioner’s sword came down, he sent to a grateful prayer to the Old Gods that it would at least be a long one.

9.9 EXT: THE NARROW SEA – DAY

DAENERYS’ new fleet draws close to their destination, the coast of the Crownlands sliding away to the west. The decks are packed with soldiers: Golden Company, Dothraki, freed men, Northmen, Ironborn, and five adult elephants. PODRICK has found a quiet space where he can be alone: he stands at the stern, disconsolately watching the waters churn in the ship’s wake.

S.E: approaching footsteps.

JAIME

If you’re thinking of jumping, be sure to put your armour on first: you’ll sink like a stone.

PODRICK

Ser Jaime.

JAIME joins PODRICK looking out over the water.

JAIME

You’ll have to forgive my gallows humour: until recently I never really had occasion to develop a better strategy for coping with loss.

PODRICK

You’re a lucky man. Not many of us get to live such a charmed life, then.

JAIME

True. But even the most fortunate among us can’t outrun the worst of life forever: it catches up with us all, sooner or later.

They watch the sea, churning and white in the ship’s wake. PODRICK picks without thought the callouses at the base of each finger. He catches JAIME watching and grins sheepishly.

PODRICK

After the first few days of practice, I couldn’t even grip the handle, my hands were so blistered.

JAIME

Nobody tells you about that part. The songs are only interested in the finished swordsman, never the novice with raw palms and bleeding knuckles.

PODRICK

I tried to just ignore the pain, and when that didn’t work I tried soaking my hands in oil after Lady Brienne fell asleep at night. I was just so happy she agreed to train me, I didn’t want to complain in case she made me stop. Then one day, I found my hands didn’t hurt quite so much as they had they day before. Then a couple days after that they didn’t hurt at all. That night, we were sitting by the fire and she saw me looking at the callouses that had formed beneath my fingers, all along my grip. “You should be proud of those,” she said to me, “You pushed through the pain, and you earned them. Swordsmanship is a hard skill to learn, and a dangerous one to master. You’ll get hurt again, I promise you, but never in the same way. Never there.”

JAIME

I have something for you.

JAIME hands PODRICK a parcel wrapped in cloth and twine. PODRICK folds back the fabric to reveal Oathkeeper’s hilt. He looks at JAIME in surprise.

JAIME [CONT’D]

She’d have wanted you to have it. You earned it.

9.10 EXT: DECK OF YARA’S FLAGSHIP – DAY

At the bow of the flagship, JORAH approaches YARA as she finishes giving instructions to her captains.

JORAH

Did you have much trouble convincing the Golden Company that our coin was as good as Cersei’s?

YARA

Dragons make excellent negotiators, it turns out.

JORAH

And the Ironborn?

YARA

Two-thirds came over right away once we offered them the same terms we offered the Golden Company.

JORAH

What happened to the other third?

YARA

We had to make room for your men somewhere.

9.11 EXT: GOLDEN COMPANY SHIP – DAY

S.E: trumpeting elephant.

Further back in the fleet, Golden Company soldiers desperately try to calm their disgruntled cargo. One soldier gives an ill-advised yank on the saddle ropes tied about the elephant’s neck, and with one quick whip of its head the elephant sends the soldier up through the air and into the sea.

TORMUND and GENDRY appear from below deck.

S.E: Tormund slowly approaching the elephant.

TORMUND

Easy now. I’m not going to hurt you.

The elephant settles somewhat, but watches TORMUND closely. TORMUND places a soothing hand on its trunk.

TORMUND [CONT’D]

Shhhh. There we go. Nice and calm.

TORMUND pets the elephant, gives the still-wary soldiers a reassuring nod. He looks the now-placid elephant over and turns to GENDRY, brow furrowed.

TORMUND [CONT’D]

Across the sea, they shear their mammoths like sheep?

GENDRY

It’s not a bald mammoth. It’s an elephant.

TORMUND

“Elephant”. Hm.

9.12 EXT: DECK OF YARA’S FLAGSHIP – DAY

JORAH studies YARA out the corner of his eye, searching for the right words.

JORAH

I haven’t yet had the opportunity to offer my condolences for your brother.

YARA looks out over the waters.

YARA

I lost Theon the first time when Ned Stark took him to Winterfell as a boy. I lost him again when Ramsay Bolton broke him. It still hurts, but at least this time I lost him to something he believed in…however much I might resent that something. We all have to die, but only the lucky few get to do it on their own terms.

This seems to strike JORAH in a manner he wasn’t expecting. YARA’s second-in-command approaches at the double.

TANNER

Captain! Ships ahead.

YARA

Looks like Euron has our welcome paty ready and waiting. How soon until they’re on us?

TANNER

That’s the thing, Captain: they’re sailing in the opposite direction.

YARA snatches the spyglass from TANNER and inspects the horizon for herself.

TANNER [CONT’D]

Something spooked ‘em good an’ proper, looks like.

JORAH raises a quizzical eyebrow.

YARA

It’s been a pleasure hosting you and your army, Ser Jorah, but it’s time for you to get the fuck off my ships. I’ve got a fleet to catch.

9.13 EXT: IRONBORN SHIP - DAY

DAVOS stands at the bow of his ship. Descending below deck, he finds JAIME and the HOUND ready and waiting.

DAVOS

So, this is my cargo. What’s your plan once you’re inside the city?

HOUND

I’m going to kill my brother.

JAIME

Sister. Probably.

DAVOS

Well, if we’re going, now’s the time.

JAIME and the HOUND pass DAVOS by and climb the stairs. DAVOS shakes his head.

DAVOS [CONT’D]

If I smuggle any more Lannisters I’ll have to replace the onion on my banners.

9.14 EXT: RUINS OF THE RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

MELISANDRE shivers and wraps her robes tighter against the falling snow.

MELISANDRE

I’d forgotten what it was to be cold. And how much I hated it.

She holds one hand up before her face, the skin so gossamer thin the light actually shines through the spaces between the bones of her palm.

MELISANDRE

As I departed these shores, I could already feel my life growing thin, becoming sheer, like a sheet of fine fabric stretched to the point of tearing. I waited for death to find me. I waited, and I waited, but death never did come. That’s when the Lord of Light spoke to me for the last time: it was I who must seek out death.

JON follows her eyeline to the NIGHT KING, still sitting patiently upon the Iron Throne.

MELISANDRE [CONT’D]

I resisted at first. The way you resist now. A hard truth is difficult to accept, particularly when it contradicts the easy truths to which we cling so determinedly. I was like a drowning man so mad with fear he drags his own saviour to the bottom of the sea.

JON looks with disgust at the NIGHT KING.

JON

He’s no saviour.

MELISANDRE

No. Only an agent of a greater purpose. As am I. As are you. You more than anyone.

JON

He has no higher purpose. He was just a man, and then the Children of the Forest made him a weapon.

MELISANDRE

And who created the Children? For what purpose if not to turn creators themselves? You can trace it all back to a beginning if you must, Jon Snow. But you’ll only be taking the long way round to reach an end that will find you soon enough standing right where you are.

MELISANDRE considers JON’s face, then sighs and hauls herself to her feet. She slowly approaches the NIGHT KING.

MELISANDRE [CONT’D]

He was a man once, it’s true. But the Children stripped him of his humanity the day they turned him into the monster that sits before you.

9.15 EXT: WHEATFIELD SOMEWHERE IN WESTEROS – DAY

BRAN descends the steps of the crypt. At their bottom, rather than the familiar tunnels he’s walked a thousand times, he finds instead a field of wheat beneath a bright blue sky.

S.E: barking.

BRAN pushes his way towards the barking through crops that tower a foot over his head, but it suddenly knocked from his feet by an enormous bundle of fur. The direwolf licks at BRAN’s face, it’s tail wagging furiously.

S.E: whistle.

The direwolf lopes away towards his master’s summons, and BRAN rises to his feet and follows. He emerges on the far side of the field to find a wooden table set before a modest home of wattle and daub. Sitting on the bench: the young wolf, ROBB STARK.

BRAN

Robb!

BRAN starts towards his brother and ROBB rises from the table to meet him.

S.E: Bran and Robb embrace.

Over ROBB’s shoulder, BRAN sees a young woman in simple peasant’s dress emerge from the hut and place a large cooking pot upon the table, giving no indication that she is aware of the Starks’ presence.

ROBB watches BRAN’s reaction as a young MAN and slight boy on the cusp of adolescence emerge from the wheatfield, so alike in appearance that there can be no doubt they are father and son. The MAN kisses the woman, then he and the boy wash their hands in a wooden pail set against the house. As they clean up, a girl of perhaps six or seven emerges from the hut with a loaf of bread, which she places beside the pot on the table.

BRAN

What is this?

ROBB

Something you need to see.

The family sit down at the table. They link hands and lower their heads in prayer. When they raise their faces again, BRAN gets his first good look at the man’s face.

BRAN

It’s him. Before the Children of the Forest, before he became the Night King…

ROBB

Wait. Watch.

Like wild animals in a predator’s path, the family suddenly freezes. Bran follows their eyeline to the edge of the wheatfield. A CHILD OF THE FOREST has stepped out from cover and stands silently regarding the family. The MAN slowly stands, takes a protective step forward to insert himself between his family and the CHILD OF THE FOREST. He holds up a placating hand.

MAN

If it’s food you want, we have plenty.

A dozen more Children step out into the clearing, surrounding the man and his family. The boy and girl run to their mother.

MAN [CONT’D]

Whatever it is you want, just take it, but please, leave my family be.

CHILD OF THE FOREST

I’m sorry. I wish there was another way.

As one, the Children rush upon the MAN.

S.E: screaming.

BRAN can’t help but look away. ROBB places a comforting hand in his shoulder.

S.E: wolf howling.

Grey Wind bolts into the wheatfield in search of the howling’s source.

ROBB

Go on. Before you lose him.

BRAN looks reluctant, but ROBB has used his Lord’s voice and will brook no argument. BRAN takes a last look at his big brother and runs into the wheatfield after the direwolf.

6.24 EXT: RUINS OF THE RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

MELISANDRE reaches out a hand, holds it flat a hair’s length from the NIGHT KING’s cheek.

MELISANDRE

Imagine if you were stripped of everything you’d ever loved, everything you’d ever been. Imagine, then, if the same curse by which you were condemned provided you with the power to realise an immediate vengeance.   

9.16 EXT: THE VALE – NIGHT

MELISANDRE [V.O.]

They took from him that which he cared for most in this world, and so he did the same to them. In his anger, he turned this new power upon the very land his creators summoned him forth to defend, and so brought forth the desolation you know as the Long Night.

BRAN finds himself abruptly at the end of the wheatfield. He breaks through the final row to discover a world transformed. The covering of black clouds overhead spills a snowfall so heavy BRAN can barely see Grey Wind only a dozen paces ahead. Grey Wind’s barks rise to a new pitch as a new voice arrives on the wind to greet his own. From through the wall of driving snow, Shaggy Dog comes bounding on, followed close behind by another familiar face.

BRAN

Rickon!

BRAN wades forward and meets his little brother. BRAN opens his arms wide but RICKON demurs.

RICKON

There’s no time for that. We can’t linger here: I’ll show you what you need to see, and then we’ll go.

Without another word of explanation, RICKON and Shaggy Dog plough through the snow back the way they came. BRAN screens his face with an upraised arm, realises they’re walking parallel to the edge of a sheer drop. Peering over the ledge, BRAN sees only another vast expanse of white some two-hundred yards below.

BRAN

Where are we?

RICKON

The Giant’s Lance, the highest point in all of Westeros. Two-thousand years from now, Roland Arryn will begin construction on the Eyrie right where we’re standing.

BRAN looks out over the snow-buried Vale in astonishment.

BRAN

This is the Long Night. The winter that lasted a generation.

RICKON

It’s exactly as Old Nan described in her stories. Except for the ice spiders. I think she made up the part about the ice spiders.

S.E: hunting horn.

BRAN has only just succeeded in tracing the source of the hunting horn when he sees a dark shadowy shape emerge through the snow, its amorphous bulk slowing separating and resolving as it moves quickly forwards into a small coterie of Children of the Forest. Stalking through the darkness close on their trail, a pair of White Walkers brandishing long lances of ice follow the fleeing Children with discordant calm. BRAN grabs RICKON’s sleeve and pulls him away.

RICKON [CONT’D]

It’s alright. They’re not here for us.

BRAN watches, transfixed, as the Walkers run down their quarry. Only one of their party remains standing, and BRAN recognises behind the mask of anger and terror the very same face he first saw moments ago regarding the farmer and his family with grim intent.

The Child faces down the Walkers, resolved to meet her end with defiant pride, but her end has only just arrived: the NIGHT KING strides from the shadows behind the Child’s back. Barely has she turned before the NIGHT KING has lifted her by the throat, bringing his face inches from her own. The NIGHT KING looks into the wide, wild eyes of his creator…then snaps her neck with a sudden sharp twist of his wrist. He tosses the limp body into the snow with disdain, then he and his Walkers dissolve away into the snowy darkness.

BRAN feels himself drawn forwards for a closer look, compelled to cross the distance to see for himself the NIGHT KING’s handiwork before its lost to the falling snow.

RICKON [CONT’D]

Bran, don’t.

But BRAN ignores his brother. He drives on, the base of compacted but shifting snow giving way to the reverberating slickness of ice. His attention locked on the contorted body ahead, BRAN doesn’t feel the ice shudder beneath his feet, or hear its screech of protest.

S.E: cracking ice.

BRAN reaches out a frozen, white-blue hand…whether to close the Child’s open but unseeing eyes, or simply to touch the exposed skin that already seems to have lost its otherworldly, ethereal glow…even BRAN could not have said for certain.

S.E: cracking ice; splash.

The earth opens and swallows BRAN whole.

9.17 EXT: RUINS OF THE RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

MELISANDRE studies herself in the dead blue eyes of the NIGHT KING.

MELISANDRE

Only in defeat did he come to understand his part in a game with greater stakes than any the Children of the Forest could ever have imagined. And so he waited. The world of men would hide itself behind a great wall of ice. Fire made flesh would bring that world to heel. The house of the dragon would rise and fall. And still he waited, because even in their ascendency, he knew the natural world would, in time, provide its own corrective to the imbalances of these dragonlords. For eight-thousand years, he was made to wait for the coming of the Dragon Queen, last of her line, and the arrival of the Great War. But now his term of service is finally at its end.

JON

What does Daenerys have to do with this?

The NIGHT KING suddenly looks skyward. MELISANDRE follows his gaze.

MELISANDRE

The time for choosing is upon us, Jon Snow. The conqueror has arrived.

On the far horizon, the great black bulk of Drogon grows larger as he soars high over the city, his progress levelled directly at the Red Keep. Ad silent as the falling snow, Viserion descends from the canopy of clouds above like an arrow from a bow. Only her dragon’s instinctive veer at the very last second saves DAENERYS from Viserion’s clutching talons. Shaken and surprised, DAENERYS bids a tactical retreat away across the capitol.

Viserion circles the Red Keep and lands before the Iron Throne. As JON and MELISANDRE watch on - the first aghast, the other admiring - The NIGHT KING descends from the throne and climbs onto Viserion’s back.

9.18 EXT: BENEATH THE WALLS OF KING’S LANDING – DAY

The combined might of DAENERYS’s forces stands arranged on the grass fields before the gates of King’s Landing: the ragged, patchwork ranks of Northmen, Unsullied, and Dothraki that survived the Longest Night, and the battle-hardened sellsword army of the Golden Company, replete with five adult elephants. At their head, JORAH, BERIC, PODRICK, and GENDRY watch the gates anxiously, unnerved to find them standing wide open and entirely undefended. Unnerving too is the shroud of snow settled over the city and its surround. The elephants eye it, suspicious yet innocent, spared the grim associations with which the survivors of the Longest Night regard the incongruous snowfall. TORMUND gestures to the open gates.

TORMUND

My elephant will never fit through there.

PODRICK looks up at TORMUND, sitting imperiously atop his new friend.

PODRICK

Your elephant?

An Unsullied captain approaches JORAH.

UNSULLIED CAPTAIN

Ser Jorah, Torgo Nudho vos jinne. Me she raggat eveth, vosma ajjin me som.

[Ser Jorah, Grey Worm is not here. He was on the ship, but now he’s missing.]

GENDRY

What is it?

JORAH

Grey Worm is missing.

JORAH [CONT’D]

Kisha hash vos eth kasha. Yer eth ase.

[We don’t have time. You have command.]

JORAH turns to the small cadre of captains awaiting their orders.

JORAH

Hold your men here.

JORAH, BERIC, PODRICK and GENDRY draw their weapons and walk through the King’s Gates into the capitol.

9.19 EXT: FLEA BOTTOM – DAY

The streets of King’s Landing look almost beautiful, their regular filth disguised beneath a layer of virginal white. For the first time in its history, the city is silent and still: not a soul in sight, no sound but the whisper of the falling snow and the crunch of the exploratory band’s footsteps.

GENDRY

I’ve lived here all my life. I’ve never heard the city this quiet.

BERIC

Not quiet. Dead.

Every open window seems to them an ill-omened eye glaring down, every doorway a gaping mouth ready to disgorge unknown evils. GENDRY feels something beneath his foot; he reaches down and retrieves a child’s wooden soldier from the snow.

6.23 EXT: BENEATH THE WALLS OF KING’S LANDING – DAY

JORAH remerges through the gates and whistles at his captains, waving a beckoning arm. The Dragon Queen’s army marches into King’s Landing without so much as a voice raised in anger opposing their advance.

Within the capitol’s walls, the army is forced to break into thirds: JORAH leads the Unsullied and Dothraki down the street to the left, PODRICK takes the Golden Company to the right along River Row, and the Northmen follow BERIC and GENDRY straight on up the steep incline of Visenya’s Hill.

9.20 EXT: SKIES ABOVE KING’S LANDING – DAY

DAENERYS rides Drogon between two banks of heavy cloud, scanning for Viserion, but the driving snow makes any kind of survey a near-useless endeavour. Again, Viserion attacks from above, and again Drogon dives aside and evades disaster by the merest of margins. Desperate lest she lose sight of her hunter again, DAENERYS drives Drogon in a steep descent after Viserion and the NIGHT KING, but when she bursts clear of the clouds she finds them already gone. As silent as the falling snow, Viserion drops from the clouds overhead and this time succeeds in sinking his claws into his brother’s haunches.

S.E: dragon roar.

Drogon twists in the air and spits an angry ball of fire, but Viserion is already far away, gliding low over the city. DAENERYS digs her heels deeper into Drogon’s hide and pushes him into furious pursuit.

9.21 EXT: FLEA BOTTOM – DAY

GENDRY and BERIC lead the Northern army along the deserted street, following its sloping progress up Visenya’s Hill. Surmounting the lip of the rise, the two men freeze in their tracks: in the broad open space once occupied by the Great Sept of Baelor stands the quarter-million undead inhabitants of King’s Landing. The wall of wights stares silently across the rubble as the body of the Northern army stalls to a standstill behind GENDRY and BERIC. Each army regards the other, silent and unmoving. 

S.E: roaring army.

JORAH leads the combined forces of Unsullied and Dothraki in a headlong charge from the streets on the undead’s left flank.

S.E: roaring army.

PODRICK and the Golden Company attack from the right.  

S.E: roaring army.

BERIC and GENDRY charge the Northern forces forward. Once more, the army of the living throw themselves outnumbered but undaunted into furious battle with the army of the undead.

9.22 EXT: BLACKWATER BAY – DAY

While DAVOS negotiates the rows the boat through the shallows of Blackwater Bay, JAIME and the HOUND peer with foreboding at the enormous cloud of smoke thick with ash and soot and powdered debris occupying the space they expected to see the Red Keep. The boat arrives at the thin strip of pebble beach that wraps around the base of the cliff, and JAIME and the Hound jump out.

HOUND

You don’t need to wait.

DAVOS casts a glance over his shoulder at YARA’s fleet, already at full sail and diminishing into the distance in pursuit of EURON’s own.

DAVOS

If it’s all the same to you, I think I just might.

JAIME and the HOUND wade to shore and hurry across the beachhead towards the mouth of the tunnels. DAVOS, alone in the boat, slaps a hand on the canvas covering behind him.

DAVOS [CONT’D]

Now’s the time, my Lady.

9.23 EXT: ENTRANCE TO THE TUNNELS - DAY

JAIME and the HOUND draw their swords at the tunnels’ entrance. A tabby cat streaks out of the darkness, surprising both men. They turn in time to see ARYA effortlessly reach down and intercept the bolting cat. She scratches the protesting tabby’s ears then allows it to leap free and escape.

HOUND

What the fuck are you doing here?

ARYA

Same thing as both of you.

HOUND

Like fuck, you are! I’ll be the one killing my brother, not you!

JAIME

And I haven’t decided for certain that I’m going to kill Cersei.

ARYA

You should probably try to keep up, then.

ARYA draws Needle and runs past them into the tunnels. The HOUND and JAIME take her advice.

9.24 EXT: SKIES ABOVE KING’S LANDING – DAY

Drogon glides low over King’s Landing. DAENERYS takes in the battle raging on the far side of the city. She raises her hand to shield her eyes against the driving snow that thwarts her efforts. The thick blanket of snow that covers the city serves to collapse dimensions, the white of the rooftops and the white of the streets indistinguishable.

As Drogon’s shadow passes overhead, the blanket below twitches then tears as Viserion shakes off his cloak of snow and takes flight. DAENERYS banks Drogon sharply right just as Viserion has his talons bared to the bigger dragon’s belly. Without needing instruction, Drogon unleashes a sustained blast of fire that scorches the passing Viserion.

The NIGHT KING turns Viserion about and meets Drogon’s fire with a blue-white blast of his own. The two plumes collide in a great ball of fire. The NIGHT KING and DAENERYS lock eyes, the air between them hazy and warped but neither flinching away from the heat. The NIGHT KING and DAENERYS engage one another in a back-and-forth of fireballs, each dragon twisting and weaving to avoid the volleys of the other. Their errant blasts collide with the snow-covered shapes of the city below, the path of the dragon’s destruction traced in rubble through the architecture of King’s Landing. 

9.25 INT: BRAN’S CHAMBERS – DAY

BRAN opens his eyes to find himself back at Winterfell, tucked up beneath the furs in his own bed. Out the corner of his eye, he sees a pair of woman’s hands working at a prayer wheel in a chair by his bedside.

BRAN

Mother!

BRAN tosses back the covers and throws himself into his mother’s arms.

CATELYN

My sweet boy.

CATELYN STARK looks exactly as she did the last time BRAN saw her, the day he fell from the Broken Tower. She holds a hand to her son’s cheek, wipes away the tears beginning to fall.

CATELYN

Come, there’s more you need to see..

CATELYN takes BRAN’s hand and leads him from the room. SANSA’s direwolf Lady waits for them at the end of the corridor, and pads along contentedly at their side.

9.26 EXT: FLEA BOTTOM – DAY

The combined forces of DAENERY’S army are beginning to flag; whatever advantage their three-pronged attack first afforded them has promptly dissipated beneath the sheer weight of the enemy’s numbers. Cutting down a pair of wights, BERIC buys himself half a second to take in the battle’s bigger picture: the army of the living is slowly being devoured by the undead, the constant press of bodies closing ever tighter around a hardened core of Unsullied, Dothraki, and Northmen. As BERIC watches on, an entire division of the Golden Company decides seemingly as one that the battle is beyond them and attempts to flee the fight.

But there’s nowhere to run.

The undead chase them down, the sellswords’ final screams smothered beneath the writhing, undulating mass of teeth and nails and steel.

9.27 EXT: BENEATH THE WALL’S OF KING’S LANDING – DAY

TORMUND sits atop his elephant outside the city gates. TORMUND hears the sound of battle ringing out from within the walls. TORMUND looks at his fellow elephant-riders and shakes his head in resignation. TORMUND sighs heavily.

9.28 INT: TUNNELS BENEATH THE RED KEEP – DAY

From the shadows of a deep recess in the tunnels beneath the Red Keep, QYBURN tentatively emerges and raises his lantern against the dark.

QYBURN

Come, Your Grace. We must seize our opportunity for escape.

He reaches back into the darkness, helping CERSEI up into the tunnel proper. EURON and the MOUNTAN come next and follow QYBURN’s lead towards an irregular light further down the path. Rounding a corner, they enter a wide, high-ceilinged cavern with three branching tunnels, a pair of torches burning in scones on either side of each opening. Clearly a storage space of some kind, the cavern is stocked with dozens of wooden crates, earthenware jugs, and folded canvas piled against the rough-hewn walls.

EURON

Which way to the harbour?

QYBURN hesitates, but before he can make a decision both he and EURON realise CERSEI has fallen behind, the MOUNTAIN sticking close to his charge.

CERSEI

We can’t leave. I won’t allow anybody to just walk into my city and take it from me! Not Daenerys Targaryen! Not the Night King! Nobody!

EURON

He didn’t walk in, my sweet. He flew in. On a big fucking dragon. Fuck King’s Landing! Fuck Westeros! There’s a great big world out there, and I have half-a-hundred ships to take us there!

CERSEI

It can’t all have been for nothing! It cost me so much to get here, I refuse to let it all be for nothing!

EURON

We’re leaving!

CERSEI

No!

EURON

Yes!

CERSEI

No! I’ll die before I surrender what’s mine!

EURON

Not with my son in your belly you won’t.

CERSEI [SNAPPING]

There is no baby you bloody fool!

EURON reels back as though struck.

EURON

You lied to me?

JAIME

She does that.

JAIME stands at the mouth of the centre tunnel.

JAIME [CONT’D]

But I’m somehow still surprised every time.

CERSEI

Jaime! I…it’s not true…the baby, it’s your baby. I didn’t lie to you, I swear it!

S.E: Euron drawing his sword.

EURON

What do you say, Kingslayer? How about we cut her open and find out for ourselves?

EURON grabs CERSEI and holds his sword against her stomach.

EURON [CONT’D]

Move aside, and I’ll let you keep what’s left when I’m done.

JAIME

I’m not sure you’ll like what you find at the end of this tunnel. Maybe try that one instead?

JAIME waves his sword towards the tunnel on his right. ARYA steps out of the shadows, Needle drawn, blocking the way.

JAIME [CONT’D]

On second thought…maybe give that one a try?

JAIME waves his sword to the tunnel on his left. The HOUND steps out of the shadows, sword drawn, blocking the way.

EURON

A lame old dog, a man with one hand, or a short-arsed little boy…decisions, decisions…

EURON throws CERSEI to the ground and shifts the point of his sword to each of the three in turn.

EURON [CONT’D]

Eeeny…meeny…miney…

The MOUNTAIN swings his broadsword in a two-handed downward stroke and cleaves EURON almost in half. The sudden spurt of blood paints the rock ceiling red, the viscous fluid dripping back down like a fine summer shower.

The MOUNTAIN pulls his sword out of the gore, then helps CERSEI to her feet with something approximating delicacy. He brushes the dirt from her dress as though in apology for failing to protect CERSEI from EURON’s violence sooner.

JAIME, ARYA, and the HOUND square off against CERSEI, QYBURN, and the MOUNTAIN. CERSEI stares at JAIME, seems to soften for a moment at the sight of him…but only for a moment.

CERSEI

Ser Gregor…kill anyone that tries to follow.

CERSEI turns and disappears back the way she came, QYBURN scurrying close behind. The MOUNTAIN looms large, blocking the tunnel. The HOUND steps forward.

HOUND

Hello, big brother.

The HOUND roars with rage and hurls himself at the MOUNTAIN and the two crash into the rocky wall, jockeying for leverage. JAIME and ARYA look at one another.

ARYA

You have until I’m done with this one, then I’m coming for her.

JAIME nods and chases after CERSEI. ARYA watches him go, then turns and joins the Hound’s fight against the Mountain.

9.29 EXT: KING’S LANDING – DAY

The snow falling on the battle between the living and the undead is painted red before it even touches down, so heavy and thick is the bloody mist that shrouds the scene.

PODRICK

There’s too many of them!

BERIC

Keep fighting, lad! The day is not lost yet!

S.E: distant crashing sound, growing closer.

The ragged band of the living drop and cover as the nearest terrace of buildings explodes and a line of elephants rampage into the open space. TORMUND waves to his friends from atop his elephant’s back. Crushing wights underfoot, the elephants stomp and tromp and swing their tusks, squashing and scattering the NIGHT KING’s new army in every and all directions.

9.30 INT: BLACK CELLS – DAY

JAIME pursues CERSEI, following her trail from the tunnels of naked rock into the stone-walled corridors of the Red Keep’s deepest dungeons. He takes a glass lamplight from its sconce and holds it out before him to illuminate a long line of wooden doors bearing heavy iron padlocks. The doors on this corridor are replaced by empty cells on the next, JAIME forced to cover his nose against their stench. He has almost passed the last cell when he realises it’s not empty after all: in the corner, hunched into the shadows, a naked man rocks back and forth.

S.E: moaning.

JAIME

Hello?

The man’s head whips round and he rises unsteadily to his feet. The man extends the two stumps where his arms used to be, flailing uselessly at the air.

S.E: inarticulate moaning.

JAIME

I don’t understand.

JAIME raises his lamp. ARCHMAESTER EBROSE flinches away from the light. He opens his mouth wide in complaint, and through a mouth of broken teeth JAIME glimpses the ragged stub of EBROSE’s tongue. JAIME backs away, his face a mixture of pity and disgust.

JAIME

I’m sorry. I have to go. I’m sorry.

S.E: desperate moaning.

9.31 INT: TUNNELS BENEATH THE RED KEEP – DAY

ARYA and the HOUND circle the MOUNTAIN. With the MOUNTAIN’s attention on the HOUND, ARYA rolls forward, slices at his heels with her blade, and leaps away beyond his reach. The HOUND swings his own sword but the MOUNTAIN blocks with his own and presses the HOUND onto the backfoot with an attack of his own. The HOUND soon loses his grip, his sword skittering away into the darkness. Rather than end things now with a simple swing of his blade, the MOUNTAIN prefers to grab his brother by the throat and hurl him across the tunnel with ease. The HOUND crashes into a stack of crates, knocking a burning torch from its sconce. The dry, dusty contents of the cavern take fire almost immediately.

9.32 EXT: WINTERFELL BATTLEMENTS – DAY

BRAN cannot tear his eyes away from CATELYN, scared she’ll somehow disappear if he should turn away even for a second.

BRAN

I’ve missed you so much.

CATELYN smiles, but doesn’t stop. Walking Winterfell’s battlements, she brings them to a stop before the south-facing parapet. CATELYN points ahead of her, and BRAN finally averts his gaze to take in the view. His smile immediately withers.

Before him lies the hellscape that once was Westeros. The fields are made of fire and ash, the clouds like burning coals against a blood-red sky. The rivers run dry and barren as deserts, their beds stacked ten-feet deep with bones burned dark as pitch. A range of barren black mountains stand sheer against the horizon’s crimson curtain. Bran feels the same sense of oppressive, overpowering dread he felt looking out over the Longest Night’s snow-buried Vale. The flames have devoured this world, snow and ice the last: two wastelands bound by death.

9.33 EXT: RUINS OF THE RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

MELISANDRE makes her slow return to JON. She reaches out a bony hand to touch his face.

MELISANDRE

I wish I could give you the same time I had, Jon Snow. But time is a luxury we do not have.

JON recoils, but MELISANDRE leaves her hand out as though encouraging a wary wild animal. Cautiously, JON acquiesces. As soon as her skin touches his, JON’s eyes double in size. A succession of scenes flicker though his mind’s eye:

The sky at night. Snow falling. The spiral of horses’ heads shown to JON by Mance Rayder at the Fist of the First Men. The spiral begins to spin, resolves itself into the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen. Black and gold banners cracking against the wind, snow all around. The severed limbs of wildlings discovered by Will, the Night’s Watch deserter. Their strange arrangement slowly fading into a view of Drogon flying directly overhead, wings at full extension. Waves crashing against a grey-black shore. JON and DAENERYS in the caves beneath Dragonstone. The cave paintings left by the First Men, the spirals spinning once more into the three arching dragon-heads of House Targaryen. Black and gold banners cracking against the wind, the three dragons suddenly real and breathing fire…

9.34 EXT: A MOUNTAIN PEAK OVERLOOKING WESTEROS – DAY

JON hurls himself to the ground to avoid the dragons’ flames. He tastes the bitter ash that fills his mouth and realises the ground beneath him does not belong to the Red Keep’s Throne Room. JON finds himself on a mountain peak, looking out across a burned-over land towards the distant silhouette of Winterfell crouched on the horizon. A dozen dragons descend in formation from the blood-red sky. Drogon flies at the formation’s point, leading the others through a series of synchronised manoeuvres in and out and over and through the great columns of ash that rise from a thousand different fires. JON takes in the nightmare, feels it searing into his memory like a white-hot brand.

MELISANDRE appears at JON’s shoulder.

MELISANDRE

Just as ice once reigned over this world, before fire was made flesh, so fire will one day consume it, after ice has burned away.

9.35 EXT: WINTERFELL BATTLEMENTS – DAY

Clutching the hot stone of Winterfell’s parapet, BRAN tracks Drogon and his spawn across the sky.

BRAN

This is the future. The future the Night King has been fighting to prevent.

CATELYN

A future the Three-Eyed Raven could help bring about. In all the world, only he possesses the abilities to match the Night King’s own. And as long as you were an ally of the Queen, you were an enemy of the King. 

BRAN’s hands move unconsciously to rest protectively over his stomach at the memory of the Night King running him through.

CATELYN [CON’T]

It’s time you left this place.

BRAN rushes to CATELYN and wraps his arms around her.

BRAN

Please, mother, I don’t want to leave you!

CATELYN strokes his hair, calming him as though he were a child in her lap again.

CATELYN

Peace, Brandon. This time, you don’t go alone.

9.36 EXT: RUINS OF THE RED KEEP THRONE ROOM – DAY

MELISANDRE removes her hand from JON’s head and his consciousness comes crashing back into the here and now. MELISANDRE produces a knife from the folds of her cloak and cuts his hands free of their binding. JON slowly pushes himself to his knees and takes a long moment considering the world around him, as though seeing it all for the very first time.

JON

This can’t be real.

MELISANDRE

Not yet, no. But it will be soon, without your intervention. A million choices and one brought us here, to this moment, but now they all converge in you, Jon Snow. Only you can send us down a different path. Only you can steer us to salvation. Unless you deliver us in this moment, the Dragon Queen will doom us all in the next.

MELISANDRE straightens up, studies her blade and the unfamiliar reflection she finds staring back at her there.

MELISANDRE [CONT’D]

After Stannis…I was more guarded with my belief, afraid to repeat my mistakes…but finally the one true God lifted the veil and permitted me to see the bricks being laid, one after the other after the other, to provide the pathway to this…to you…I understand now what I first suspected that night at Castle Black, and my belief is absolute once more: you are the Prince that was Promised, Jon Snow. You are Azhor Ahai reborn.

9.37 EXT: SKIES ABOVE KING’S LANDING – DAY

Closing on his quarry, Drogon snaps at Viserion’s tail but catches only air. Leaving the city in their wake, the dragons chase out over the choppy waters of Blackwater Bay. As soon as they reach the open sea, Viserion dives like a cormorant beneath the surface and disappears from view. DROGON circles around as DAENERYS scans the choppy water.

Surging up from beneath waves directly beneath Drogon, Viseron rolls in the air and rakes his claws along Drogon’s exposed underside.

S.E: dragon shriek.

Drogon shoots a burst of flame in aimless fury, but the NIGHT KING and Viserion are already gone.

9.38 EXT: KING’S LANDING – DAY

The NIGHT KING’s army swarms over the elephants like a colony of ants, slashing and hacking and biting. Succumbing to a thousand separate cuts, the first elephant is finally brought to the ground, its rider spilling into the sea of wights. The second elephant in line, frenzied with terror, stumbles blindly over the first and blunders to the ground. The remaining elephants catch the scent of animal blood in the air as their brothers are butchered by the undead horde. In a blind panic they flee into the city, collapsing and crumbling whatever edifice they encounter. Losing his grip on the escaping elephant, TORMUND plummets to the ground but finds his landing cushioned by the piles of dead and undead bodies. Hacking their way through wights like explorers though virgin jungle, JORAH and BERIC rush to TORMUND’s rescue. Grabbing an arm apiece, they haul him free as GENDRY and PODRICK swing their weapons to keep the converging wights at bay. They turn to escape but find the path they cut has been absorbed by the teeming undead. JORAH looks frantically for an alternate exit.

JORAH

There!

Focusing their efforts on the open door of an abandoned inn at the battlefield’s edge, the small squad of Northmen, Unsullied, and Dothraki forge their way forward through the NIGHT KING’s host.

9.39 INT: BLACK CELLS – DAY

JAIME stumbles past one row of cells after another, lost in a maze of identical dank corridors. For a moment, JAIME thinks he has double-backed on himself and somehow ended up at the line of padlocked doors again. But the noises coming from the nearest door tells him differently.

S.E: loud feminine moans.

JAIME cannot restrain the need to satisfy his ghoulish curiosity: he opens the small viewing window set in the door and peers into the darkness of the cell.

S.E: loud shriek.

JAIME throws himself backward in fright as SEPTA UNELLA rushes at the door, snarling and biting at the air. JAIME’s lamplight reflects back at him in the dead blue eyes of the wight, the Septa’s malevolent glare tracking JAIME as he backs away down the corridor.

S.E: screaming wights, rattling chains.

JAIME spins around to face another cell and a pair of wights reaching frantically through the bars. The women are recognisable now only by the Dornish style of their threadbare dress. ELLARIA SAND remains chained to the wall by one hand, scratching for JAIME with the other, but her daughter TYENE has gnawed herself free. JAIME’s eyes track beyond the gory stumps TYENE waves in his face to the pair of rotten hands hanging from their shackles. Swallowing the vomit rising in his throat, JAIME turns away and plunges forwards into the darkness.

9.40 EXT: KING’S LANDING – DAY

TORMUND and GENDRY lead the forward press as the last men standing fight their way through the undead towards the open door of the inn. Their salvation grows slowly, agonisingly closer, but their numbers shrink rapidly, terminally smaller. For every foot of ground they gain, another layer of their perimeter is stripped away, the undead peeling off men as easily as paring a piece of fruit.

9.41 INT: TUNNELS BENEATH THE RED KEEP – DAY

The MOUNTAIN swings his broadsword wildly. ARYA ducks and weaves and avoids his strokes with ease, but quickly finds herself boxed in between the MOUNTAIN and the rising wall of fire.

HOUND

Arya! Move!

ARYA just has time to dive out of the way as the HOUND tackles the MOUNTAIN.

S.E: the Hound and the Mountain crash into rock wall.

The rock gives way beneath their weight and they land on a narrow promontory in the cliff face. The MOUNTAIN’s helmet flies loose on impact and careens over the edge. The HOUND hauls himself painfully to his feet and looks into the bloated and rotting face of his brother.

HOUND [CONT’D]

Look at the state of you. Never thought I’d be the good-looking brother.

ARYA

Sandor! Get down!

Looking to repeat their trick from the Longest Night, ARYA sprints from the darkness of the tunnel and uses the crouched Hound to launch herself at the kneeling MOUNTAIN.

The MOUNTAIN effortlessly plucks ARYA from the air. She drops Needle and claws in panic at the MOUNTAIN’s hands as they squeeze closed around her neck. ARYA reaches down and snatches her dagger from her belt and stabs furiously at the MOUNTAIN’s neck but to absolutely no effect. With a dismissive toss, the MOUNTAIN throws ARYA over the edge of the premonitory.

HOUND

Arya!

9.42 EXT: KING’S LANDING – DAY

Somehow, someway, the inn is almost with reach. TORMUND, PODRICK, and GENDRY clear their path with swords and hammer, but for every wight they dispatch two more fill the breech. The undead press in on all sides, wight clambering over wight in their frenzy to get at the living.

The final fringe of Unsullied is peeled off and BERIC and JORAH are left to form a rear guard alone. They hack away at bone and steel and flesh, only ever a single stumble or clutching claw away from being cut off from the dogged drive towards the inn.

Finally, the vanguard of TORMUND, PODRICK, and GENDRY arrive at the threshold. They put their backs to the wall and do what they can to keep the doorway clear for the others, but the ingress of survivors quickly slows: too many bodies pushing through too narrow a passage has created a logjam in the entrance. The undead crowd in, picking off stragglers ten at a time. BERIC and JORAH abandon the futile fight to maintain a rear defence and join the riot of bodies scrabbling for the door.

TORMUND, PODRICK, and GENDRY fall back into the inn. They toss their weapons aside and plunge their arms into the writhing mass at the door, grabbing hold of BERIC’s and JORAH’s outstretched arms and hauling them free of the undead thicket. BERIC tries to pull the door shut behind them but a dozen undead hands have taken their hold and resist BERIC’s efforts. He strains every muscle to pull the door closed, but already the frame is filling up with wights. With one glance, JORAH surmises the situation; with the second, he makes his intentions plain to BERIC. Time slows to a crawl as a sad and solemn understanding passes between the two old warriors.

JORAH rushes into the breech. Bracing himself against the doorframe, he presents his back to the undead, using his body to block their advance.

He grits his teeth in defiance; he feels his lifeblood spilling out through half-a-dozen holes; he feels his arms begin to bend; he feels his legs about to buckle; he feels the tide at his back about to drown him.

BERIC

Don’t do it, Mormont!

JORAH

It’s alright, Beric. At least I’ll do this one last thing with honour.

Before BERIC can protest any further, JORAH throws himself up and back, plants his feet on the edge of the open door, and pistons himself backwards into the press of undead bodies. The door slams closed into its frame.

BERIC holds his hand against the wood and mouths a silent vow of gratitude to the Lord of Light…and another to SER JORAH MORMONT.

9.43 EXT: WINTERFELL GODSWOOD – DAY

BRAN follows his mother through the trees of Winterfell’s Godswood. Stepping out into the clearing by the pond, BRAN stops stone still. He opens his mouth to speak, but words fail him. He let’s go of his mother’s hand and walks towards the weirwood. At its base, cleaning his great broadsword, sits NED STARK.

BRAN

Father…

NED

Hello, Bran.

OUTRO