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You all crowned me your king. I never wanted it. I never asked for it. But I accepted it because the North is my home! It's part of me, and I will never stop fighting for it, no matter the odds
— Jon Snow

Jon Snow, born Aegon Targaryen, is the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen. Wishing to protect her infant son from Robert Baratheon's rebellion, Lyanna gave Jon to her brother Eddard "Ned" Stark who presented him as his own bastard son.

In order to escape his status as a bastard, Jon joins the Night's Watch. During his service to the Watch, Jon learned of the White Walkers and infiltrated the wildlings, later repelling an attack by them when he returned to the Night's Watch. Later he was elected to be the Watch's new Lord Commander. When having peace talks with the wildlings, Jon was hoping to create an alliance against the White Walkers only for the creatures to attack and slaughter the camp, Jon and only a fraction of the wildlings being able to escape. Realizing the threat that the White Walkers posed, Jon allowed the wildings to enter Westeros but was later assassinated by Thorne and his fellow mutineers for it. The wildlings and the Watch members still loyal to Jon managed to crush the mutiny. He was eventually resurrected by the witch Melisandre.

Still determined to create an alliance against the White Walkers, Jon traveled south to warn the kingdoms of the looming threat and came across his adoptive sister Sansa Stark who recently escaped from her insane husband Ramsay Bolton. Jon, Sansa, and their allies amassed a small force and managed to crush Ramsay's forces and kill him. Once again in the North, its lords named Jon King of the North.

In order to convince Westerosi lords and the invading Daenerys Targaryen, who was later revealed to be his aunt by blood, Jon captured a wright and presented it to the lords. Still unaware they are related Jon and Daenerys fall in love. Jon survived the Battle of Ice and Fire and later lead the men of the North in the Battle of King's Landing. He eventually turned against and assassinated Daenerys after she became too power-hungry and was once again send back to the Night's Watch as punishment.

Battle vs. Aragorn (by Thornclaw Braveheart)[]

Slightly beyond the Wall, Jon Snow is walking through the godswood with his direwolf, Ghost. Trailing him is Aragorn, who has his Dunedain Longbow at the ready. He takes out an arrow, fits it to his bow, and draws it back as far as he can. As Jon nears the edge of the forest, Aragorn lets loose his arrow, but Jon turns around at the last second, and drops himself to the ground as the bow catches his black cloak and narrowly misses his body. Ghost growls as Jon turns towards Aragorn. "Who are you?"

Aragorn drops his longbow and draws Anduril. "The Dunadan."


Jon lifts his own longbow and picks out an arrow, , but barely has time to draw when Aragorn reaches him and swings Anduril, cleaving the bow in half and knocking Jon off his feet. Ghost leaps up and pushes Aragorn onto his back, but Jon gets up and yells, "Ghost, no! He's mine." Ghost whines and walks away, but not before growling at Aragorn, who stands up. Jon draws Longclaw and charges, blades clashing repeatedly until Aragorn slashes through Jon's left shin, drawing blood. Jon grunts and kicks Aragorn between the legs, and the Ranger falls to one knee, only just deflecting an overhand strike by Lord Snow. Aragorn tries to swing again at Jon's leg, but the latter jumps back and the two warriors lock their blades together. Aragorn then frees his left hand and draws his Lorien knife, slashing at Jon's stomach, but the chainmail blocks most of the blow, only brusing Snow. Jon punches Aragorn in the chest with his sword pommel and steps back, then thrusts at Aragorn, slicing his side but not doing much damage. Aragorn puts his left hand to his side and tries to stop the blood, but then shakes away the pain and slashes again at Jon, jarring Longclaw from his hand. Jon draws his dirk and leaps at Aragorn, trying to stab him, but Aragorn grabs his hand and throws him away from his body. Snow rolls down a hill and loses his dirk in the process, leaving him unarmed. As Aragorn gets up and begins to run down the hill to dispatch the Lord Commander, Ghost leaps on him and bites his upper right arm. Aragorn yells and punches Ghost's stomach, forcing him to jump back, and the Ranger grimaces as his wounds start to bleed again. Ghost jumps at Aragorn once more, clawing his face, but after a fierce struggle for a weight advantage, Aragorn gains the upper hand and drops Anduril, takes out his knife, and knees Ghost in the face. Ghost whimpers as his jaw cracks, then Aragorn raises his knife and slashes downwards. Jon, who has been trying to find his dirk, hears the final growl of Ghost and screams, running up the hill to find Aragorn covered in the direwolf's blood, sheathing his knife and picking up Anduril. Jon looks at the body of Ghost, turns to Aragorn with tears trickling, and tries to rush the exhausted Aragorn, dirk raised when Aragorn falls to one knee and stabs with Anduril, impaling Jon Snow on it's Elvish blade. Jon gasps as blood fills his mouth, and he drops his dirk, grabbing at Anduril's blade when Aragorn withdraws the weapon. Jon crumples to the ground, bleeding to death. Aragorn yells out, "ELENDIL!!!!" He wipes clean his sword and, leaning on the blade for support, limps away from the scene.

WINNER: ARAGORN

Expert's Opinion[]

Aragorn's age, experience, and better knowledge of his weapons has given him the victory. When it comes down to the two heirs of lost dynasties, nothing beats The Lord of the Rings.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here

Battle vs. Alistair Theirin (by BeastMan14)[]

Beginning to think I should’ve brought the dog with me…

As another cold burst of wind cut through him, Alistair gritted his teeth and soldiered forward. At the time, an expedition to lands south of Thedas sounded like a fantastic idea. A chance for adventure and an excuse to get away from Anora and the throne for a bit? Sign him up! Of course, if he had anticipated hostile natives attacking the expeditionary force at every corner, he would’ve been a bit more hesitant, and he likely would’ve politely declined if he had known it would be damned cold.

Another gust seemingly ignoring the armor and furs he had stuffed underneath it made Alistair contemplate if this was the Maker (or worse, Morrigan) punishing him for spreading the rumor that the Warden was interested in Leliana. Honestly, the true mistake was heroically offering to scout ahead, only for his horse to die and him to take one right (or was it left?) turn too many on the way back in camp. He sneezed, hoping that he wasn’t coming down with a cold on top of everything else, and could practically hear the Warden teasing.

“Looks like we could use a map, huh, Alistair?” he would probably chuckle.

Ignoring the self-doubt, Alistair trudged forward, hoping to find a warm cave or clearing to settle down in before he froze solid. The occasional creaking of Cailan’s armor made him suspect that it was a high possibility.


Carefully stepping through the wreckage and corpses, Ghost stopped to smell a strange armored man with a scent he didn’t recognize, then looked to his master, who overlooked the aftermath of the attack with an uncertain expression. A grim-faced Tormund clapping him on the back broke Jon out of his contemplation, and he turned to look at the ginger-bearded man as he snarled, “We’re gonna crush the fuckers that did this.”

Jon looked away from the wreckage and walked back to the campsite, Ghost padding close behind.

“Any word from the survivor?”

Tormund shrugged, then replied, “Not much. Poor bastard ain’t got long, but he said something about the leader havin’ a shield with some sorta winged beast on it.”

Jon nodded, then turned to look at the footprints that led away from the ruins, his mournful expression changed to one of grim certainty. Walking to his horse, Jon commanded, “Stay here with the others. I’m going to ride ahead and find them.”

Tormund scoffed and stepped in the way, easily blocking the path of the man nearly half his size.

“Alone? In that blizzard? You’re fucking mad, boy.”

Pushing past his friend and climbing onto the horse, Jon simply responded, “No one else dies,” before riding off, Ghost running close behind. Tormund watched the two figures vanish into the blizzard, then cursed as he headed back to camp.

“Good luck, you mad fucker.”


Jon rode until the footsteps eventually dwindled down into one pair. Stopping his horse, he stepped off and looked them over, eyes following the trail as it staggered into the woods. Nodding to Ghost, who walked ahead, Jon led his horse to a tree, then tied its reins to a branch before giving it a reassuring pat to the head before following the direwolf deeper into the trail.

They walked for some time, the footsteps eventually disappearing and forcing them to rely on the faint scent alone, before coming into a clearing to see a man in heavy armor lying awkwardly besides a dying fire, his eyes shut tightly as he tried to rest. Jon’s curiosity subsided into rage as he saw the blue shield, a griffin standing majestic in the center of it, lying close to him. He looked at Ghost and signaled for the direwolf to go around, staying low as they stalked through the treeline.

A branch snapping awoke Alistair from a short-lived attempt at rest, and he opened one eye to scan around the surrounding area. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see rustling in the bushes, and he slowly reached for the shield.

Warden senses tingling…

As his fingers gripped the shield, a white wolf covered in scars leapt from the bushes with a snarl, and Alistair cried out in shock as he brought his shield up, bashing the creature across the face and sending it flying. Before he could properly stand, a man clad in black emerged from the trees, sword raised over his head, and charged, closing the distance and smashing the blade into the shield again and again as Alistair stumbled, frantically shielding his face. With a wave of his hands, he desperately cast Holy Smite, knocking Jon back.

Alistair groaned, staggering to his feet despite the weight of his armor, while Jon wiped blood from his mouth and pulled himself up, briefly glancing at Ghost, who snarled at the enemy. Shield and sword raised and rapidly looking between both enemies, Alistair called out, “Look, I’m sure you’re very mad about…whatever it is I did to you, but can we maybe have this fight somewhere warm?”

Jon raised Longclaw and Ghost took an aggressive stance, earning a weary sigh from Alistair.

“Fine. I guess we can warm up here.”

Jon lunged first, thrusting forward with Longclaw and grunting as Alistair deflects it with his shield before swiping at him with Oathkeeper, forcing Jon back as Ghost bound past and jumped at Alistair, who leapt out of the way, then kicked the wolf aside. Alistair pressed forward, Oathkeeper clashing with Longclaw as Jon quickly backpedaled, trying to avoid stumbling. Jon ducked another blow, then swiped across Alistair’s stomach, cursing as the blade skitters against the armor seconds before a blow from the shield knocks him to the ground.

As Alistair raised his sword for a killing strike, Ghost leaps onto his back, sinking his teeth into the back of his exposed neck and earning a scream of pain as Alistair furiously tries to pull the animal off.

Andraste, your dog is persistent!”

Managing to reach back and grab the snarling animal by the scruff of it’s neck, Alistair firmly yanked Ghost aside just as Jon pierced his shoulder with Longclaw, pushing him back. Staggering, Alistair tosses Ghost aside and rams his shield into Jon’s arms, causing him to hiss in pain and pull back Longclaw, a spray of red blood painting the snow underneath them. Crouching, Alistair grabs Oathkeeper and swipes at Jon’s legs, causing him to leap back and bring Longclaw down onto his shield. Doing his best to ignore the pain in his shoulder, Alistair pushes up, staggering Jon and leaving him barely enough time to block Alistair’s strike from Oathkeeper.

Both panting, Alistair and Jon circle each other, waiting for the other to make the first strike. After a few moments of tense standoff, it occurs to Alistair that he’s taken his eyes off the dog just as Ghost crashes into him, sinking his teeth into his shield and pulling with all his might just as Jon rushes him. Crying out in shock and frustration as Ghost wrenches the shield from his hand, Alistair brings Oathkeeper up, blocking Jon’s strike, then kicks him in the gut, completely crushing the wind out of him. Alistair quickly turned and swiped at Ghost, who nimbly leapt out of the way while still carrying Duncan’s shield.

“Give that back, you stupid mutt! That doesn’t belong to you!”

Alistair pursues Ghost as the direwolf backs up and leaps out of the way of each strike, the final one leaving Alistair’s sword embedded in a tree. Trying to wrench it free, Alistair turns to see Ghost glaring at him, teeth bared and groans a feeble, “Oh, Maker,” before Ghost lunges, sinking his fangs into Alistair’s neck and bringing him to the ground. The two struggle for a moment, Ghost tearing and snarling as Alistair screams and tries to pull him off, before the armored man rears back and connects his fist with Ghost’s jaw, shattering several teeth and knocking him off with a pitiful whine.

Holding his hand to his throat as blood seeps through his fingertips, Alistair crawls to Oathkeeper, only for a black boot to block his path. Jon rested Longclaw under Alistair’s chin, noting the blood pouring from his neck, and cheerlessly said, “Make your peace.”

Stopping to take few more ragged breaths, Alistair smirked and spat blood before responding, “You know, with my life flashing before my eyes, I really should’ve just stayed in the War-“

Jon brings Longclaw down and severs Alistair’s head cleanly from his shoulders, putting him out of his misery. Wiping the blood off his sword before sheathing it, he looks up and his eyes go wide with shock see Ghost lying on his side. Rushing to his companion, Jon smiles as Ghost looks up at him and affectionately licks his cheek.

“C’mon, Ghost. Let’s go home.”

With those final words, the two stood to their feet and trudged back through the snow, leaving Alistair’s headless body to the elements.

Epilogue[]

The Warden smashed his fist into the wall as he looked over Alistair’s corpse, rendered nearly unrecognizable due to the weather and damage sustained in the fight. He had come from Amaranthine as soon as word got out of scouts finding Alistair’s body after weeks of searching, hoping that the news wasn’t true. Through tears, he laughed as he sat next to the body of his friend and mumbled, “Morrigan and I couldn’t leave you alone for six months, could we?”

He turned slightly at the sound of Anora entering the chamber, and dismissively greeted her with, “I imagine you’re just heartbroken about losing another husband so soon?”

Anora seemed insulted and replied, “I assure you, the loss of Alistair hurts me just as much as it does you,” which earned a scoff from the Warden, who stood up and pushed past her.

“And where are you going, exactly?”

The Warden stopped and rested his hand on his knife, then responded, “I’m going to get the group back together. After that, we ride south.”

Expert's Opinion[]

While Alistair was a superior warrior on paper thanks to his superior experience, armor, and sheer brute strength, Jon had the advantage of being both much more knowledgeable and equipped to handle the environment they were fighting in. Add in Ghost, an eternal good boi acting as backup, and Alistair couldn't keep up.

To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.

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