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Part 1: The Plan
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Pickles lazily watched the stick fly over his head and barely registered it landing in the snow bank some twenty feet off. His owner let out an exasperated sigh. “You don't fetch! You don't want belly rubs! You can't fly! You truly are the worst pet!” Pickles stared back at him sleepily.
His owner pulled a treat bag out of his pocket and offered a crunchy to Pickles. The zombie polar bear happily nommed it down and laid his head down for a nap. His owner came over and absentmindedly scratched between Pickles' ears. “We're getting old, boy. It's not your fault that-” He stopped suddenly as Pickles' eyes turned white.
“Night King! We're coming for you!” Pickles bellowed.
“Pickles! You can talk! I take back the worst pet comment! Wait until the others see this!” He made a move to gain the attention of his lieutenants.
“No, no, this is Jon Snow!”
“Oh dear, you're having an identity crisis.” He put down his hand and gave his polar bear some concerned head pats. “There, there. This aimless wandering hasn't been good for any of our psyches.”
“You misunderstand. I carry Stark blood, and we can warg into animals. We can also talk through them, and it's totally always been this way.”
The Night King nodded slowly. “Yes, I see. Snow, you say? That mopey bastard from Hardhome? How's life been treating you? We have so much to catch up on!”
“It's become my life's purpose to stop your threat on the realms of man! It is my destiny!” Pickles stood up and glared at his master as well as his bear features would allow.
“What threat? Is this what you think after we took care of Hardhome for you?”
“Took care of Hardhome? You murdered hundreds of innocent people!” Pickles was indignant.
Wounded, the Night King shot back, “Is that what you think?” The Night King went on about how so many of those “innocent” wildlings were rapists, murderers, and puppy kickers. Didn't Snow hear all those innocent dogs crying for help as his army approached? He let as many of the nice wildlings go as he could.
“Puppy kickers?!” Pickles was mortified.
“Yea! But now that that's done, we have no purpose in in this world. No offense, but you lot aren't interesting enough to take over. Listen, we picked up this horn from a wildling. If we wanted to collapse the wall, we could in five seconds, but what good would it do? Just a new place to wander in, and I'd still only have this boring zombie polar bear that can't fly or even breathe blue fire to keep me company in a sterile world with no love.”
A contemplative silence fell between them. “So you're a fan of love...” Pickles began slowly.
“Am I ever!” was the enthusiastic response. Pickles smiled as best as a bear could.
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Part 2: The Execution
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Jon watched Dragonstone fading in the distance. The plan was easily falling into place. Too easily? Daenerys has agreed to the plan without much coaxing, agreeing to whatever baffling plan Tyrion threw out. Tyrion… he was not the clever man that Jon met in Winterfell. In recounting their adventure in Essos, Jorah had said that Tyrion had almost drowned. Something must have happened then. Soon after Jon's arrival in Dragonstone, Tyrion approached Jon while drunk (Jon hoped that he was drunk anyway) and slurred, “The crow, the crow. Under the sea the crows are white as snow, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh.” That was a little weird… Jon planted the seeds of the plan into Tyrion's receptive head then. As long as Tyrion didn't stand in the way of the plan, Jon wouldn't think too much of it.
Jon almost believed that he could negotiate peace with the Others. It seemed to be the only way, as the living would not win a direct fight. He felt a tinge of guilt for deceiving Daenerys, but he had to protect the North and the living. If he could remove himself from the political nonsense of Westeros as a result, all the better.
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Pickles was incensed! Replace him as pet, how dare he. Luckily, the warging left a GPS tracker on Jon Snow, and the zombie polar bear could hone in on the squishy humans as soon as they crossed the wall. Pickles didn't allow the incoming snow storm delay his rage running. Unbeknownst to him, the undead army had him as a tailing mission target.
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Jon watched as the polar bear was dispatched. Poor noble beast. Time for the next phase of the plan. He handed Gendry one of the nitro boosters they were given from the dragons' stash. Gendry could easily make mach 3 back to the wall and summon Daenerys and her dragons. It was a simple waiting game now.
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Bring a the biggest chain that the North has ever seen! Oh, and some scuba divers and ice javelins, Jon had said. So the Night King did. Now all three dragons were flying enticingly about, and he just had to pick one…. the black one was occupied by some mad men. That left the creamy one and the green one. The creamy one would look better with his outfit. He aimed…
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He would not miss this politics game, Jon reflected. So much waiting. They had transported the lone wight they had nabbed to King's Landing (The wight will likely be destroyed, Jon had said. Better to exist with more varied experiences than to have a long, monotone existence, the Night King had replied.) Just waiting for Cersei to show up… any time now…
Oh, there she finally was. Jon was no fool: Cersei was too petty and small thinking to agree to combine forces for the greater good of humanity. She would be hilariously easy to dispose of even with just one dragon, but that's not why they were here. The plan was simple: the Night King wanted a more exciting companion, and Jon wanted to be left alone, out of Westeros life. The Night King was delighted at the prospect of a pet dragon, and he readily agreed to help Jon in return. Jon wanted to join the wildlings back north of Winterfell. He needed his best bro Tormund to give up on Westeros life, and the rest of the wildlings would follow him. Tormund was too infatuated with starting a life with the Big Woman (did he even know her name?), and that needed to be rectified. That's the only purpose this wight hunt served. Speaking of…
Jaime and Brienne were throwing longing looks at each other. Again. It was sickening. Cersei glared at them, probably plotting the quickest way to murder Brienne. Jon wondered why she didn't realize this was a problem before. The bear pit was a legend in Westeros (had she really fought a bear naked?), and the attraction that was there was blinding. If Cersei had truly been cunning, she could have used this to her advantage. It would not hurt the crown to have a foothold in a respected Stormlands house, especially since Cersei seemed to be too stupid to have the lordship of Storm's End decided.
They showed the wight. Euron abandoned Cersei, and Cersei vowed to help them. Both seemed unlikely truths.
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The Night King and Mr. Fluffles (what kind of name was Viserion?) flew up to the wall. His face was stoney, but inside, he was squealing euphorically. Mr. Fluffles loved all the tummy scatchies, and they had played fetch for five hours straight yesterday! This field trip south of the wall in the name of love was the perfect bonding experience. He thought sadly of the misunderstanding with Pickles, but always onward to the future!
They blasted through the wall. He sent his army to Winterfell; even if they weren't needed, the exercise would do them good. As for him, he had business in King's Landing.
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Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark were his parents. If this were seven years earlier, Jon would have had some kind of human reaction to this, but he had other things on his mind. Jaime had arrived according to plan, and Brienne was delivering a heartfelt defense of his honor. Jon hoped Tormund was seeing this. “Now kiss!,” he yelled internally. It was so obvious…
Oh, they were talking to him. He jolted like he just woke up from a nap. Yea, yea, he can stay. Daenerys was not pleased.
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Since Tommen's death, Ser Pounce doted on Cersei, and he influenced her greatly with the large amount of time he spent with her. He was the one that taught her the pastime of staring out the window. It was a wonderful activity. She gazed out at her city and sipped her wine.
Euron had returned. Without elephants. She angrily chugged more wine. Her beautiful wine. It glistened in the sun and told her how magnificent she was. It was the purest love she ever had in her life.
She thought of her baby. That was the real threat to dethroning wine as her great love. She was approximately fifty-seven months pregnant and still not showing. Maybe the baby would never come out? Maybe the baby wasn't ready to face the competition for her love. Oh, come on, sweet one. No need to worry.
She finished the bottle of wine and wobbled around the room, looking for more. She needed more now and couldn't wait for the servants to do it. It was down the stairs! She took the first step like a boss, but the second step proved a more formidable foe. She tripped and stumbled down a few flights. She conveniently landed on Euron, and both broke their necks on impact.
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Jon knew there wouldn't be a battle, but he had to keep up the pretense. As a treat to himself, he threw out the most ridiculous plans to see who would object. “A Dothraki open charge, no dragonglass weapons! Put the siege weapons as far out into the field as we can. It's a shame we don't have time to build fire pits in the way of the charge. Put some 'shhh!' signs in the library, so the wights know to be quiet in there.” No one had an issue with that. Maybe they were just shy. He couldn't wait to be gone.
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Ser Brienne smiled brightly. Jaime gazed at her softly and full of love. There was no one else in the room.
Tormund clapped thunderously; his knighting suggestion worked brilliantly. He was so in there!
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The Night King and Mr. Fluffles flew across King's Landing, gleeful in the upcoming violent bonding activity they were about to have. Mr. Fluffles was such a delight that the Night King had no issue doing Snow this one favor. They rolled up to the Red Keep, ready for some action, but… what the? Everyone was flailing around because the queen was dead.
Mr. Fluffles was promised blood. They targeted some monster that was enraged at its failures in protecting the queen, and they ended the hype. The Night King threw on the nitro, and they zoomed off to Winterfell.
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The army of the dead rocked up to Winterfell. They stared ominously at the castle for effect. They hoped that the king's new pet was worth all this walking.
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“You know, I was dead once, and it didn't change anything for me. The same will be true for Viserion. He just wants to have an adventure out in the world right now.” Awkward pause. Jon and Daenerys stared at the statue. “Sooo… Yep. That's my mom. Your brother is my dad.”
“But you have a stronger claim to the Iron Throne now!” Just a one track mind.
“The Starks have a history of uncle-niece marriages, so a union of ours would be easy accept here if we wanted to combine our claims to rule. But the real claim to the throne is who has the will to hold it and the army to take and keep it. That's not me. As soon as Tormund gets his heart broken, I'm going up north and living the good life with my puppy and homies, no cares in the world. You can have the mess in the south. The Long Night will be over by morning; it was more of a team building exercise than a threat. Now, conveniently, Cersei just left the throne open for you.”
Daenerys smiled.
“Now just to wait for Tormund.”
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The Night King rejoined his army. Jon used his power to tell him that everything was in motion, and he thanked him. The army turned around to head to their summer home. Their work was done here.
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Tormund padded to her room. He heard voices inside. Some pathetic lines about it being so hot, so they needed to strip. It seemed to be working? He stifled a sob. If that actually worked, he never had a chance. He ran off.
Inside, Jaime and Brienne kissed passionately by the fire. It deepened into something more, and all was right with the world.
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Part 3: Credits Roll. No more chances to ruin characters with nonsense.