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The Humiliation of Lyanna Mormont	By : Meowshi Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 13433 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire, nor any of the characters from these series. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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In the presence of the great, immense terror Lyanna wailed. Uncontrollably. Desperately. She felt her shoulders begin to tremble in her plates of armor, producing a sound not unlike a marble rolling at the bottom of a wooden cup. The tremors grew so intense that soon her entire body seemed to shudder with each convulsion. She felt her lower body spasm, and a warm, wet sensation overcame her as she involuntarily doused her trousers and underclothes. Steam rose from the snow beneath her feet as she painted the ground yellow. She was aware that all the people around her, including the men under her charge, could see her pissing herself, but she didn't care. As the horrified scream tore from her throat, she was no longer the Lady of Bear Island. She was no longer the last remaining heir to Mormont Keep. She was no longer a trained and competent warrior or a bear wearing human flesh. She was just a frightened little girl, and wetting herself in the face of overwhelming fear felt completely appropriate.
A hush descended upon the keep as the giant stood idly at the gate, and for a moment, even the wights stopped their incessant chattering as they swayed frozen in place. The defenders of Winterfell had all stopped fighting as well, staring up in awe at the blue-grey monstrosity at their door. The behemoth was more akin to a mountain than a man, with jagged promontories of ice and fresh-fallen snow resting upon its broad shoulders. It brought with it the overwhelming stench of rot and ruin. The men and woman who had spent time north of the Wall, like Jon Snow and his army of Free Folk, reacted to the sight of the giant with hard, grim looks. Those that had never encountered a giant before, like the chivalrous Knights of the Vale and the dragon queen's Dothraki screamers, simply gawked at the creature with wide-eyed expressions of disbelief. The army of the dead stood eerily still, following some silent command to remain motionless until Winterfell's defenders made the rest move.
“No one moves!” bellowed Jon Snow, the King of the North, from atop Rhaegal, his emerald-scaled dragon. His voice echoed off of the stone walls of the keep as he raised his sword above him in a sign of command. The blade glinted ominously in the moonlight before bursting into flame, gleaming like a solitary star in the pitch-black sky. Jon smartly figured that this moment of reprieve would give him a window to redeploy his troops and devise a new plan, now that the keep's northern gate had been compromised.
Lyanna, like everyone else, had heard Jon's orders; but she felt her courage leave her and dribble down her thighs as she made water on herself. She shrieked, dropped her axe upon the ground, and ran. What else could she do?
The second she moved, a thunderous roar filled the air and an army of rotting corpses came pouring out from beyond the destroyed gate. The wights screamed with hunger as they surged forward; a mass of screaming, rotting bodies that fell upon the forces of the living like a tidal wave of stinking waste, ready to devour anything in its path. The remaining men-at-arms of Bear Island watched in horror as their commander dropped her weapon and frantically scrambled for the safety of the castle walls without so much as calling a retreat.
Her cowardice robbed them of the opportunity to properly prepare for the onslaught, and they were soon overwhelmed by the hordes of undead. Grey-bearded Osric was the first to fall, cursing the name Mormont with his dying breath as the ghouls tore open his armor and gorged themselves on his innards. The brothers, Calemund and Gregor, were ripped apart in front of each other without so much as getting the chance to say their farewells. Bright-eyed Cobb, a young man of only two-and-twenty, screamed horribly as a wight tore out one of his eyes and plopped it into its yawning mouth. The greedy creature then tried to grab Cobb's head and lap up the oozing fluid from its socket, but Cobb managed to spear the vile thing through the skull with his pike. He slapped a mailed fist over his bleeding socket and fought his way over to the lower ramparts, where the forces of the living were congealing.
It wasn't only the Mormont bannermen who were suffering from Lyanna's terrible decision. Lord Commander of the Night's Watch Eddison Tollett had been catching his breath when the wights suddenly shuddered back to life and lunged for him. Before he could defend himself, one of the terrifying creatures sunk its teeth into his neck, greedily biting off a chunk of steaming meat.
“And here I always assumed I would die on the other side of the wall. Life always finds a way to surprise you, eh?” Edd said with a queer little smile on his face before he toppled over the guard wall, plummeting dozens of feet to his demise.
Lyanna Mormont ran with all the speed her tiny legs could muster, but it was to no avail. The rotting giant seemed to have its sights set solely on her, marching through Winterfell's defenders like they were nothing more than a nuisance. With each step it took, the earth trembled violently and Lyanna felt her heart sink as its immense shadow blotted out the moonlight, plunging her into an abyss of sheer darkness.
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The Humiliation of Lyanna Mormont