A/N: To come back to the review with a question in one of my previous chapters, as the oldest Rhaenyra has indeed more claim to the throne than Danaerys. However, Rhaenyra never wanted the throne or to be queen and therefore stepped aside to support her sisters' claim. I have done this one purpose in my story because Rhaenyra wholeheartedly believes that Dany would be the best queen their could be. Just to clarify.
Song to listen to: The Nightking – Ramin Djawadi.
There is silence, deafening, without end. Fi's eyes are small; clenching to see out into the dark. Evezi, her trusty black stallion, stands for once completely still His head is higher than usual, nostrils flaring. The warm breath of her horse forms white clouds in the air.
A deep sigh leaves her frame, a hand surely on his neck. She calms him buy stroking his black fur, and he calms her by standing utterly still.
Her normally springing black curls are now braided tightly down into a long braid. She wears warpaint on her face, black kohl lined eyes that form aline over her nose, blue stripes running over her cheeks. Her usual outfit now consists of a brown coat with fur, brown deer leggings and boots. Fi does not like the North, she misses the lulling plains and hot sun. But she has made a promise to protect Targaryen family, especially the oldest, and it is something she will continue to do so.
She wonders where the three dragon women and their dragons are.
She had seen Vyserion with a loud screech fly over them not long ago, followed by his brother Rhaegal. But now all is silent.
Fi watches as the redheaded woman , the red lady, speaks old words, and suddenly her sword is aflame. A thrill of excitement goes through her and her fellow warriors, a loud whooping rising from her throat and joining into the melee with the other dothraki.
Evezi throws his head and whinnies, pawing the ground while sounds of hollering and whooping, whinnying of horses fills the air. The hollering continues and then suddenly, the first flames start moving at rapid speed.
She throws a look at Jorah Mormont and the white wolf beside him, as big as her horse nearly and then faces forward.
The row of flickering flames start moving forward until her row to starts to canter into gallop. Evizi snorts and then with a small jump the mighty stallion starts galloping. It is a mighty feeling, excitement coursing through her as the hollering of the dothraki continue, and Fireki surrounded by galloping horses and warriors, lighted swords flickering with flames and the thundering of hooves, and the throwing of snow crushed beneath thousands and thousands of hooves.
She too has to hold back Evizi's excitement, holding his reigns close and firm as horses rush by, galloping harder and harder.
As the hollering grows in excitement, the horses continue on running, Fi sets herself upright and then gives her horse full reign. Sword raised, watching around her at the other dothraki with sword raised and huffing horses, She is ready to take on their enemy. They seem to gallop for ages, the big white wolf growling as he too sprints among the horses. Like alight beacon in never ending darkness they seem to contuse running toward an enemy that doesn't show until suddenly a loud cry of her fellow riders makes her eyes widen.
A large mass of bodies, of undead, start swallowing the riders one by one as swords clang and clatter and horses whinny. In a split of a second she sees it and Fi's eyes widen, as she tears on the reins to turn her black stallion to a sharp left. He listens immediately, but it does not keep the undead away nearly swallowing her whole as one bites and scratches into Evizi's flank. The horse whinnies in pain and Fi raises her sword, cutting down and fighting the large mass of bodies coming down on her.
Her sword, a small flame still burning, is raised, hacking and slashing away at the void that threatens to swallow her. Around her the lights start to filter out and the whooping is replaced by panicked whinnying, screeching of dead ones and screaming of men dying. The undead continue to fall upon them, one grasping her coat and tearing with a knife into it. A startled and angry scream leaves her mouth as the blade tears into the skin of her arm, the fabric of her coat torn right of it. Blood starts welling in the deep wound ans the black stallion still tries to make his way through the mas of undead bodies, flanks bleeding and now his mistress not far behind.
Sweat starts to glitter on her brow as her bleeding arm, red pooling on the reins, holds firm, hacking and slashing, pieces of hair now sticking onto her face and breath coming in quick clouds in the night.
She continues fighting, as does everyone around her, spears thrown, shields smashing, horses bucking but the mass is all consuming.
For a moment she thinks - this is the end, her eyes wide and teeth gritted, the void coming and coming, consuming when suddenly Evizi bucks and whinnies loudly and right beside her a sea, no an ocean of bright red flames tears into the mass of wights.
The she-warrior looks up to recognize the cream wings of Vyserion, and the white haired woman sitting on his back. The large dragon turns, wings veering, seems to bring back his head and then opens his mouth to spit another round of fire, a sea of flames burning the undead.
The roar of fire, the beating of wings is loud in her ears as Evizi bucks and stands on his hind legs, while orange colors the black dark sky like a sunrise over the horizon.
Back and forth Rhaenyra goes, trying to save as many of their army as she can and then another noise resounds; calling, and a green shape flies lower, burning everything below. Ireyne has joined the fray. Rhaegal beats his wings, small inquisitive noises in his throat as she looks back a below and then veers the green dragon to take up height.
Vyserion screeches and then seems to hang suspended and Rhaenyra appears over his wings. -" FIREKI!" She screams as loud as the wind can carry her. - " Retreat!" Retreat!"
Vyserion huffs and off they go as she continues shouting for retreat. -" You heard the lady!" Fi yells. -" Retreat! Retreat as many as can!"
The shout of retreat is carried among the survivors as horses turn, and man on foot, on horses and turn back. As the unsullied close ranks, she turns to look back, hearing the multiple groans and screams as the undead collide with their army. She turns back forward, the fleeing dothraki running as fast as they can, her horse limping, galloping to the walls of Winterfell.
Now that the first excitement is passed, pain sets in. Evizi whinnies and then finally, hurt and in pain, falls on his side. Fi groans as she is sent flying in the snow, leaving her weapons.
She can still hear he distance sound of the undead . -" Leave the horse!" Podrick shouts as they start to fall back. But Fireki pushes him back. - "NO! He's not dead! I swore to look after him. EVIZI, up !" She shouts in dothraki. Perhaps it's the panic in her voice but her stallion groans and gets up on unstable feet and then starts running as fast as he can towards the gates.
Fi holds his reins, other arm unable to, bleeding to profusely as the unsullied close further ranks. Podrick shoots her an angry look and Jaimie Lannister looks at her with disbelief.
-" You could have killed those stayed behind for your horse!" He sneers but Fi does not have it.
- " Shut your mouth, king slayer! It is thanks to your sister that we are where we are! Whose army is the one that got taken down down first? Not the North's, not yours or your friends, but the Khaleesi's! Hundreds of my brothers have fallen, my people, not yours, MINE!"
Anger courses through her but then Jorah Mormont, worse for wear, grasps her shoulder. -" Don't fight with him. It's not worth your time. We will grieve our dead later, the night is still young. Bring your horse to safety and let someone look at your arm. We will need everyone that can fight."
Though she grits her teeth, Fi nods and then turns, grasping her limping horse to bring him to the stables.
The sea of lights is dwindling, fast. Ireyne stands beside the khaleesi, worrying her lips. Grooves are starting to form from biting them so much. Danaerys's brows are furrowed now, hands clenched as she looks down at her army. Jon stands beside her watching with a frown as well, but behind them, Rhaenyra is pacing, back and forth, back and forth, hair swinging around her, her eyes glittering. She seems agitated, as she paces in front of the three dragons behind her and Drogon makes a noise in his throat, shuffling his feet, as behind them also Vyserion is increasingly getting agitated.
The most contained of the three he might be at times, he is still a dragon, and therefore as wild and untamed as the free sky and hot burning fire. He cries agitatedly in his throat and then raises his neck, throwing his head slightly up, his tail swishing over the snow covered ground.
Rhaegal seems the most calm, only his breathing resounding, beside Drogon as his eyes too are fixated on what happens below.
Finally, the pacing stops. Rhaenyra steps up to the hill overlooking their army, gently pushing Danaerys and Jon aside. Her face is unreadable for a moment until her brows furrow even further as the lights are now but half of what they were. - " We must do something." She turns, calm, pleadingly. Her eyes search that of her sister, of Jon, but they only face forward.
-" We wait." Jon Snow says. Rhaenyra shoots him a look but does not answer. -"They are dying, Dany." She repeats. Daanerys looks in front of her still, but her face growing increasingly angry. Rhaenyra growls and then turns back, walking away muttering under her breath. For a moment all is silent, except for the screams carried on the wind when suddenly a roar announces itself. A large cream shape flies overhead and then dips down, wings spread.
-" Rhaenyra!" John shouts at her but she is already to far gone. Vyserion and his rider dip and then the first salve of fire rains down on the undead army below. Ireyne worries her lip for another minute and then turns. Rhaegal is already moving forward, dipping lower as Ireyne runs down the hill, snow thrown left and ride and then crawls up Rhageal's side. -" Ireyne! We wait until the dead arrive." But Danaerys turns to Jon proclaiming the dead are already there in a soft cold tone as Rhaegal pounds forwards and then spreads his wings to take up height. The khaleesi is angry, giving her sister full back up as well as Ireyne.
The brunette looks back a second, to see Danaerys seated on Drogon, Jon behind her as he too prepares to take height. The cold night air nearly freezes her lungs as Rhaegal climbs higher and higher and huffs softly. Then he spins to his side and lets himself fall, Ireyne on his back.
They follows Vyserion's path and then she slides a little back, face hidden from the harsh winds. -" Dracarys." She whispers but it's enough. Rhaegal throws his head back and breathes fire, the crackling of it hitting the snow and bodies below familiar in their ears. She and Rhaenyra continue spitting fire as Drogon too comes and unleashes fire on them.
The dragons fly overhead, burning as much as they can. They stay close to each other turning into a circle. Rhaegal flies close to the rafters, belly half towards the wall, as he roars and beats his wings at a stunned Sansa and Arya. Vyserion flies right behind him, belly up as well as his mighty wings beat on the airs, shaking his head and roaring as well. Over his shoulder Rhaenyra sits, her purple eyes illuminating the fire below, giving an eerie glow. Her eyes cross that off Sansa and Arya, mouth thinned. As the fire dances in her purple eyes, a cold creeps over Sansa's skin, even in her warm clothes. She barely looks at them for a few seconds, but it freezes Sansa on the inside.
-" She doesn't look to happy, does she." Arya quips, a little less intimated. Sansa nods but understands. Half of her army lies dead before Winterfell. The three dragons disappear and then a cold wind arrives, blinding everything and everyone.
-" Ireyne!" The brunette, turns, her hair whipping in her face a Drogon falls in beside Rhaegal. Over the harsh winds blowing it's difficult to see each other and hear each other.
The fire below is like a beacon of light, yet the winds are harsh and tough. The dragons find each other by noise and responding to each other, keeping close together.
-" Khaleesi, are you okay?" Ireyne screams over the howling winds as Danaerys nods. Jon is seated behind her, face gritted in anger.
Another roar and then Vyserion comes flying towards them, Rhaenyra on his back.
-" Are you crazy! What was that back there on the hill?!" Jon screams over the pounding of wings and the cold wind. Vyserion moves his head slightly while Rhaenyra sits up. Her eyes narrow.
- " You could have made everything back fire!" He sneers. -" Then what was I supposed to do?" Rhaenyra spits, her hair swishing in the wind.
" Let our army die? It were not the Northerners at the front line but the dothraki! You would have had us all killed if we waited your sign! "
-" The dead.."
- " Again, the dead were already here." Danaerys jumps in, reminding him of their conversation earlier. Then she shakes her head. -"We could not watch our army and friends die in vain."
Rhaenyra hisses. - " I refused to." -" You;.." Jon says, mouth turned down. - " You do not command Jon Snow! I did what I had to do prevent an unnecessary slaughter. I will hear no more of it. Not a single word!" she throws out her gloved hand in a furious gesture.
She turns to Danaerys, furious. - " Learn that pretty boy to keep his mouth shut!" Then she seats herself better, mutters a furious " Vla!" And Vyserion turns, falling for an instant back down as he descents, body in a straight line and tail swishing before he turns and spreads his wings.
Danaerys looks back at Jon, a death glare in her eyes. -" Rhaenyra's right. Even if she is indeed a little quicktempered, i would have done the same thing." Ireyne nods mouth in a thin line, eyes cold for once. Rhaegal is still moving beneath her, waiting for more news." Let's not dwell on this now." Ireyen supplies. - " The danger is yet to come. And they need our help still."
Drogon moves his head and then takes off in a leisurely pace to down ready to help Rahenyra and Vyseiron who are still onto the dead. Ireyen turns and Rhaegal follows, veering right and then falling back into the fray.
They keep coming. Their horrifying sounds makes her skin crawl, and she knows she'll have nightmares for years to come. Danaerys fights beside her, as frazzled as Ireyne is, trying their best to keep the undead at bay while Jorah, dear Jorah, fights them off to keep the two women at bay.
She remembers, how desperation filled her, dropped down into the snow, Rhaegal landing uneasily, wounded by the javelins thrown. She'd slid off and he'd ran before going back in the air. His wounds are luckily slight, but he'll need a few days to heal. He'd called to her, turning back and when he'd been ready to drop back down Ireyne had waved him away.
-" Go! I'm fine!" She'd seen Drogon fly off, undead dropping everywhere as he cried in pain. Rhaegal had followed him, throwing the undead of his brother's tail. Though cold Ireyne had stood up to rejoin her Khaleesi, but their reunion had been shortlived. The first of the undead had been coming, Ireyne helping Daanerys up when the Targaryen shortled as one of the wights started running towards her. Daanerys started crawling back while Ireyne, tried to grab a hold of her to help her up, but he was too fast. And just as Danaerys squeezed her hand and Ireyne bowed to keep the khaleesi save, the wight's head was cut off.
With a blink,Jorah had helped the khaleesi up, grabbing both her arms and pushing her alongside him. He'd looked back at Ireyne, a frantic ' Come!" and then he grabbed her hand as she stumbled after them.
The two had stood together in the mess of bodies, snow and fire, Ireyne beside Danaerys as Jorah, stood before them, cutting down any undead that came to them. Then Danaerys had grabbed a sword and the brunette had scuttled to find one as well, and they were doing their best to keep the monsters at bay.
But now, Ireyne sees no end. Her arm is heavy from carrying the sword, and she and Daanerys heave, between Jorah to fight them off and then the sound of a sword piercing distracts them.
A short noise leaves Jorah and he grunts, his blood sputtering like rain around him, as a wight cuts his blade deeply into his side. Ireyne's eyes are wide open, mouth in a silent call, Danaerys's scream of " Jorah!" swallowed by the sound of oncoming dead.
He keeps fighting, sword raised and slashing and hacking again and again but eventually he tarts to bow over, losing blood fast, both Ireyne and Danaerys stand beside him, trying to best to keep him safe, to keep each other safe for there is no end at all.
Cut down most, Jorah sinks to his knees, Danaery is behind him, trying to help him up, hands on his shoulders, Ireyne coming to help as well. -" Help him up!" Daanerys says as she makes place for Ireyne. Yet, Jorah pushes out his arm and his body, throwing both the girls behind him, as another sword drives through his armor, piercing his chest.
Ireyne holds onto Danaerys and they step back as with a final move of strength, Jorah fights off another wight. But then, his strength is gone and he bows forward, his head nearly in the snow he tries to put himself upright, his sword in the snow as a foundation to keep him up. He starts to climb weakly to his feet, the Targaryen's worried and frazzled face behind him, sword raised and a hand on his shoulder.
He looks forward, but his back is bowed backwards and he is clearly in pain, strength gone. He stands up, because a new wave is coming, His hand reaching to grab Ireyne's arm, even though his tremble as a leaf in the wind; the three stand together, ready to face the onslaught and then suddenly everything explodes into sea of ice. All the bodies explode and fall in heaps, lifeless.
As they go down, Ser Jorah looses his last strength, letting go of a worried danaerys and Ireyne, as he falls back to his knees. And then he falls to the ground. Both women react immediately, running to catch him, but he falls, face upward, bloodied, in pain.
Danaerys and Ireyne sink to there knees, Jorah's head in Danaerys's lap. Her face is scrunched as her hands envelop his face and unbelieving sobs and cries leave her mouth. Ireyne is beside her, lip trembling as she grabs his hands; squeezing them.
-" I'm hurt' He whispers, broken. Danaerys moves him, shakes him and she cries, face scrunched. -" No!" it escapes her weakly. Ireyne is beside her, her hands reaching for his face as well. His eyes close for an instant, as if sinking up her touch. Danaerys shakes him again, Ireyne on her other side, face scrunched up as her lips tremble, her eyes wet.
Ireyne strokes his cheek and he seems to want to say something, but his voice falters. The Targaryen shakes him again, and then his eyes take on a blank hue. Then he is still. They know he does not have long to live.
Danaerys breaks down crying. She shakes her head, rocking herself as she puts her face on his chest and cries. Ireyne does not know what to say, faltering as she too begins to sob, loud breathes wrecking her body. She looks up at the sky, her heart breaking again as Danaerys cries.
Then the khaleesi grabs onto Ireyne with another arm and both cry together, faces near each other. A dark shape flies down from the skies, and then Drogon softly drops himself down onto the ground. He crawls to them, on his legs and winged arms and body low, face and neck low to the ground as well. He makes such uncharacteristic soft sounds in his throat, a way to soothe and comfort his mother.
But then the dragon curls around them and his cheek strokes Ireyne's body with such a tenderness as well she has never expected from him. He makes the same noises again, in his throat and then keeps them warm as their cries fill the night.
She does not flinch when she hears another loud thumping. Rhaegal softly asks in his throat. His head and body low, as he comes closer, to the other side and then touches both Ireyne and Dany with his snout. The to dragons are curled around them; so kind, so tender when both Drogon and Rhaegal make a noise in their throat.
They look both at the man between the women and the dragons too seem sad that this man, who they have known since they were little is dying. And they all know that if it were to come so, both Rhaenyra and Vyserion would be grieved and heartbroken as well.
It is to their surprise then when several shapes, soldiers of Winterfell come towards them. The priestess of Ashai is with them. Her eyes are kind, tender. -" It's not too late." She says. And with that, the dragons move aside, they take hold of Jorah and put him onto a cot and off they go.
Danaerys and Ireyne, stay behind, beside their dragons, faces wet and fearful hope in their heart. Through it all, both women keep squeezing each other's hands and the two dragons beside them.
It is only later, they realize it's the red lady's parting gift, healing Jorah, and for that they are thankful and full of gratitude.
Rhaenyra's steps sound hollow on the icy and body covered stone ground. She limps a little, her braids done at her temple, loosened hair hanging in her face.
Her lip is split and her face is starting to bruise, a dark pool of blood staining her upper left leg. She continues walking, with little steps, barely continuing forward, pieces of a javelin still broken in her hands.
It's so silent, now that all the death have stopped. A breath leaves her sporadically, as she continues walking, not seeing the appreciative glances of the Mormont-clan behind her.
She'd saved Lianna Mormont. The oldest Targaryen had swooped in on Vyserion's back when she heard the girl screaming, the cream dragon going for the giant. With a vicious growl he'd snapped the upper half of the wight in two, throwing the pieces of giant around him before roaring and burning the place.
Rhaenyra had fallen off, impacting the ground hard while Vyserion continued firing, rising up when to many started to make his way to him, a few stabbing his tail and legs. With an angry and pained growl, he'd jumped up,taking half the wall of Winterfell with him.
Her heart pounds in her chest, beneath er torn clothes. She continues walking until she hears a soft noise. She blinks and to her surprise Vyserion is there. He walks towards her slowly, a soft rolling noise to soothe and calm her leaving his throat before his head rises to envelop her. He huffs, his eyes blinking to watch her.
The cold prickles Rhaenyra's wounded skin and finally panic sets in. Rhaenyra's legs give out and she falls to her knees on the cold ground, face down. Finally loud sobs come from her, panic and pain and anger and fear and sadness all finally taking over.
She's so so cold and shivers wrack her body. Rhaenyra sits a little up, still shivering, the pieces of javelin finally falling from her hands. Vyserion crawls over to her, his wings close to his body.
Another soft noise comes form him as his nostrils flare with warm air, before he lays himself down, wrapping his body around his rider, and continuing to make soothing noises.
The white haired princess hopes Dany and Ireyne are alright, but she needs a little time first. She's so, so tired.
The next day, they bury their dead. It is bittersweet, that the one she loves survived, and so many have died, including the Red Lady, Ireyne thinks. The brunette and the Khaleesi had thanked her so many times the remainder of the night for saving his life and she had nodded.
It was then a shock to hear she had died the next day, walking out of Winterfell and going to dust as she'd taken of her necklace. Her necklace and cloak are on a pire as well, as tribute. She had been a great help and would be remembered for everything she had done in helping winning the war and helping the survivors and the people. She would be remembered with all those fallen.
It pains everyone to see the Lady of Winterfell grieving for Theon Greyjoy, who'd given his life for Bran. Ed and Beric among many dothraki and others they'd known hadn't survived either.
They will be all remembered for what they have done, but everyone has a heavy heart. Too many good people had gone, had given their life.
It isn't long before they light up the pires, smoke clouding the skies. Faces wet and sniffles and sobs. Rhaenyra, worse for wear, stands beside Ireyne and Daznrerys as they watch the pires burning.
Long after there only remain ashes, many still stand outside.
It has been several weeks now. The little wounds Rhaegal and his brother had, are healed. Rhaegal had some scratches and stabs on his sides as did Drogon on his tail and Vyserion on his legs and on his tail a little, but they had no major injuries, no wounded wings, luckily.
None of their wings were hit, the skin still hard and solid and strong, indestructible. So was, except some wounds, the rest of their body. But that too has gone over, and the dragons have seemed to become even stronger, their skin again smooth without any scars of scabs.
It is no surprise then that, after those weeks, Danaerys announces she wants to return to Dragonstone. Ireyne nods her ascent.
And then Rhaenyra almost smiles softly, lips barely turning up. - " Let's go home."