A/N:

Hey there! That chapter's going to have many different short POVs, because that's how I was imagining this battle. I took some inspiration from the way the show did the Battle of Winterfell, but it's not going to be the same thing...

Hope you'll enjoy it!

~A Girl Had Many Names~

Every muscle in my body was tense as I stood in the room and looked around me.

At the doors stood four Unsullied soldiers. Ten more lined each wall. Three maids stood near the big bed, where Daenerys cradled a tiny, moving bundle of cloth. I saw the baby's tiny hand stretched out of the blanket.

A healthy princess, born into a very ill world.

I could see Daenerys looking into the void, thinking, trying to figure out what to do now. They need her out there, aren't they? The people, the dragons. But she's torn and exhausted, and someone else needs her now.

I watched Daenerys look down to her newborn daughter, cold sweat still on her forehead, as she leaned in to give her a kiss.

And the only thing I could hear now, was silence.

Sansa was afraid. She knew fear very well, but this time, fear was different. It was larger, somehow. She didn't know what she was about to face. What do the eights look like? How do they sound? Smell?

She knew she can't fight. She can't protect herself, let alone her people.

"Go to the Great Hall," Arya said. They were both standing on the walls. "Stay with Bran and the rest. You'll have guards there. It's safer than standing here."

"No place is safe." Sansa said, still looking at the vast darkness that almost concealed Winterfell. She looked to her side to find Arya's eyes, cool and calculated.

"I only said it's safer. Take this," her sister handed her a dragonglass knife, "and get to the Great Hall."

Sansa nodded and took the knife. "How do I use it?"

Arya had a little smile on her lips, "Stick 'em with the pointy end."

Jon climbed on Rhaegal's back While Drogon was already in the sky. It's like he knew something was going on without Daenerys riding him.

He should've felt guilt for what happened with Andie before, but he didn't even know what to make of that. Also, he didn't really think about the kiss or his mixed feelings and barely about Daenerys. He was thinking about his daughter. He held her for only few minutes, and already felt the devotion and uncontrollable love a parent has. She was small, nameless, didn't even open her eyes, but she was the first things he could think about. He wanted her to live, to grow, to be wise and strong and loved.

Jon held on to Rhaegal harder as the dragon shot to the sky, ready to fight whatever threat was coming their way.

I kept looking around the room, then through the window. There was nothing outside. Only darkness.

A maid came up to me and whispered in my ear, "The birth was not easy to her Grace," she said gently, "She lost blood and strength. I advise her to rest and stay away from the fight."

I nodded and dismissed the maid. It was already clear to me Daenerys shouldn't fight, but knowing she lost blood… I'm glad the maester here knows how to take care of people. I'm glad the queen is alive.

Daenerys looked up at me from her bed and signed me to come to her. In a closer look, the bed was messy. I could see some blood stains on the sheets. I guess the majority of the mess was cleaned.

I stood in front of her. "Your Grace," I said. "How are you?"

Daenerys gave me a bitter smile, then looked down again at the baby. "It wasn't as bad as the first time I gave birth," she said in a bit of a monotone, somehow dreamy voice.

I felt like an idiot, but I asked anyways. "When you gave birth to the dragons?"

Her smile seemed less bitter now, more amused. "When my children were born, it was the greatest, most powerful and magical event in my life. I will never forget stepping into the fire, never burning, hugging the eggs close to my body through the night…" she drifted off a little, "But no, that was not the first time I gave birth. I was pregnant, from my first husband. The child died in my belly, so they say."

I bit the inside of my cheeks. "I am very sorry to hear that, Daenerys." She looked back up, surprised I called her in her first name.

"Sit with me," she almost whispered, her voice was a bit shaky. I guess she didn't want her soldiers to hear her like that. I sat next to her, but kept a bit of a distance. "If something will happen tonight," she said, "If they get here…" Daenerys looked down again, "Don't protect the doors, don't protect the maids, don't protect the people, don't protect me…" she handed me the little bundle of cloth, "save her. Take her, take her far where nothing can reach her but the sun."

I wasn't sure I can hold a baby, not now and not ever. I've never done that before, but Daenerys eyes were begging. I held out my arms, and suddenly the almost weightless living bundle was in them, wiggling softly.

I never liked human babies. Far superior in cuteness to kittens and puppy, or in andurance like baby sharks and baby alligators. I looked down in the first time to look at Jon and Daenerys' daughter. She was pink and tiny, and looked a bit like an alien. Her head had little strands of hair on it-dark, black hair, with a light silver tiny almost invisible strand near the forehead.

I wasn't sure how to feel or react when she clasped my finger with her tiny palm. It was a cliche, but I've never felt this feeling before. She wasn't pretty, or strong, or fiesty, or anything. But I felt strongly for her, and knew I will let no one hurt her.

Then I heard gasps coming from the maids, and the Unsullied around the room shifted and became even more tense. I handed the princess to Daenerys to stand up and walked to the window without a word.

Outside wasn't dark anymore. Flames-huge, scary waves of fire, shot from the skies to the ground, and this is how I knew the fight had started.

Arya heard the fight from the walls. It was too dark to see it.

And then, the dragons' fire shot from the skies in mesmerizing show of light and flames-Arya never saw flames so big. The flames lighted, here and there, parts of the battle field, but it was still impossible to see what was going on out there.

She clutched her bow and stepped closer to the edge, and then she heard the shouts, the clashing of weapons, the screams, and mostly… it wasn't clear what it was. An earthquake? A landslide? A Thousand, no, a hundred thousand hissing and shrieking voices. Something she never heard before.

It seemed the sound and darkness consumed everything it touched.

It was quiet in the Great Hall.

Sansa looked around the children and women, the elderly and sickly. Missandei stood stiffly in a corner. The soldiers who protected them were few. The people who were strong enough to fight had to be out there.

Sansa tried to remember a way out in time of need. There was a tunnel not too far away they could go into, it led to the woods south of the castle, but went through the crypts. Jon said the Night King can raise the dead. The crypts wouldn't be a smart choice, but might be the only escape towards… well, something. Somewhere that might be safer.

But now, nothing happened. They couldn't hear anything from the outside.

Sansa looked at Bran, who was numb as he always was since they reunited. "What is happening?" She asked. Then her little brother's eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he wondered away, into the fight.

Bran warged into a raven and flown above the battle-it was more of a massacre. The dead didn't stop, even though the living gave them a worthy fight. He followed the dragons, then dove down to the battlefield to watch the fighters drawback, one step, two steps.. then they ran. They ran screaming, shouting to their friends to run back to the castle. Will the walls be a safe haven? He didn't think so.

He could smells the rotting flesh of the wights, he could smell the freshly spilled blood of the brave men and women fighting. He smells the bodies burning in the dragons' fire.

And from far, far away, he could feel him. The Night King was on his way to Winterfell.

When they started piling up and climbing the walls, Jaime caught Brienne's eyes. He fought next to her out on the field, and knew the odds were not in their favor.

As he stabbed another blue eyed corpse he shouted to her, "The Stark girls!" he knew that was what she cared about, "The Great Hall!"

He wondered for so long if he will see his sister among those monsters. As he and Brienne fought their way to the Great Hall of Winterfell, he tried to find the familiar face of his past lover. But she wasn't there. He didn't see her at all, there were only more blue eyed corpses charging at him brainlessly.

Brienne fought like the great knights she always wanted to be, shouting in anguish and slicing through the dead. When they got to the Great Hall, they saw it was too late-the wights already broke parts of the doors. Will the people inside be able to protect themselves?

Looking to Brienne again, he saw she looked in a different direction. Following her eyes, he saw Arya stark fighting. She had the skills of, well, many great fighters around the world, from what Jaime could see. The girl was a killing machine. She made her way somewhere as well, and they both followed her, barely able to move in the crowded battle around them. A wight almost cut Jaime with a rusty sword, yet Brienne somehow got to him and killed the… hoe does Andie calls them? Zombies.

The two of them got to Arya and a few more soldiers to face the doors of the crypts.

"My brother and sister are not in the Great Hall," she said, "I don't think they're dead. I think they tried to escape through the tunnels."

And with that, they opened the heavy doors while still fighting and fending away the Dead, closing the doors behind them.

Jon wasn't thinking at all. He felt Rhaegal, and they fought together as one.

It was cold up there, and a storm was coming from north. It became harder to breathe and see or hear anything. They dove down, and that's when he heard it. The dragon's wail.

Not like Rhaegal's or Drogon's, but higher pitched and deafening. And then the bright blue light came after it.

Rhaegal dove under the blue flames, but Jon felt how hot they were, so close to him. They flown high above the clouds. Drogon was already there.

When Viserion shot up into the sky, Jon got a glimpse of the Night King. He felt the anger, almost like a ball of flames, boiling in his stomach, and this is where the fight started.

Drogon smashed into Viserion with sharp claws. Viserion bit Drogon's chest. Rhaegal came in to help and pushed Viserion to the side, and the two dragons disengaged.

Jon drew out his sword. holding on the Rhaegal with one hand. When VIserion attacked again, his claws almost cut Jon as Rhaegal bit back with sharp teeth. Jon could see the Night King above him with his eyes spears, aiming one at Rhaegal's head.

Jon was about to scream, to let out a battle cry, to do something crazy-but Drogon pushed Viserion in such force, Rhaegal was pushed from the impact as well, and dove down fast to the ground.

Jon out his sword back as he clutched Rhaegal's spikes into his hands, not looking away from the dragon's back and pressing himself to the beast.

He felt the fast descent, wind blowing in his ears and hitting his face. The dragon crushing to the ground, and Jon was thrown away from him, rolling on the cold snow.

After a minute, he let out a breath a felt all of his limbs attached and unbroken. Somehow, he survived. Somehow, he stood up to see the Night King walking only fifty feet away from him in the field of dead bodies, walking unharmed to Winterfell.

Jon couldn't run yet, but he walked, walked fast. He took off his cape and drew out his sword. The Night King turned to him and stood there, expressionless.

Jon knew what was about to happen when his enemy started to raise his hands slowly. That was enough for him to lift his heavy legs and run, run to the blue eyed monster he wanted to kill. He wanted it to end. He wanted everyone, his daughter, his family, Andie and Daenerys, Tormund and Sam… he wanted them to live.

So he ran.

But he couldn't stop what was about to come.

As Jaime and the group he followed found the sick and old people of the north, the children and their mothers, Varys and Sansa and their guards, it seemed to him the group he thought was hiding in the Great Hall grew smaller. By the way the Lady of Winterfell looked, there were horrors in the hall he didn't want to hear of.

One of the guards was pushing Bran Stark in his wheelchair. Jaime swallowed as he saw the crippled boy, and knew it was his fault. Bran looked back to him, not saying a word.

The Stark sister had an unspoken conversation, and they walked in the same direction, leading them all through the tunnels.

After ten minutes of walking between the statues of dead Starks, Jaime heard and cracking stone. He looked at Brienne again, and they both turned to the source of the sound. Then there was another. The walls started cracking, and through the cracks came out the hands of the dead.

"Run!" Brienne yelled and stood in a fighting position. Jaime looked at Bran and his slow wheelchair.

He tried to kill him once, when he was an innocent boy. Jaime felt like he had to try and save him now. "My lord," he said, offering his help. Bran nodded. Jaime picked him up, even though he was a young man now, Jaime would carry him to safety, or at least try.

And then, they ran.

Jaime heard the now familiar voices of the dead behind them, in front of them, everywhere around them. It was going to be a long way.

The screams were unbearable. All I wanted to do was to get out and save people, but I gave my word to Jon, and I gave my word to Daenerys.

We all looked at the door, terrified. The maids had little dragonglass daggers, but it looked like they didn't know how to use them.

The unsullied looked ready, somehow not shaking as badly as I did. We were cornered. How can you not be scared as fuck?

And then, when I though the shouts died out. I heard the window glass shatter, and a dead man's hand came through it.

Arya killed so many of them she lost count.

The group lost people on the way, most of them innocents, unable to fight. If she'll stop to think about every child dragged away by one of her dead ancestors, she won't be able to save the children that were still alive.

They passed the crypts, so the Dead were behind them now. The tunnels were made of dirt and they were old and crumbling, so it made her run even faster. Sansa was running beside her in her lady dress and long hair, trying to keep up with the dragonglass knife in her hand.

And then, they saw the moonlight coming from the opening, far away up at the end of a long stairway.

Jaime saw the moonlight through the exit, but the dead were not far behind and the old tunnel was crumbling. He could manage to run this far with bran on his back, but what good will it be if the dead will chase them outside and kill everyone in the forest?

While people started to climb up the stairs, Jaime looked at Brienne one last time.

"Take Lord Stark with you," he breathed out, "I'll try to hold them down."

"Hold them down? Jaime, there is no way you can do that. They'll just kill you and move on."

"Yes, I believe so," he said, "But the walls are crumbling." A chunk of dirt fell from the ceiling just to prove his point. When the rumbling wave of wight came their way, there were more and more chunks of dirt and rock falling.

Brienne took Bran away from Jaime. The boy looked at him in wonder, "You're a brave man, Jaime Lannister." He said in his monotone voice.

Jaime's eyes went to Brienne's. Brienne nodded. "Thank you, Jaime. I will never forget you."

"No," Jaime said as he drew out his sword with his left hand, "Thank you."

He turned to face the mob of wights as the last of the living human climbed up and out through the exit. He could feel the earth shaking as the wave crashed into him. almost knocking him off his feet. But he fought. He slashed and cut and stabbed everything around him, as he heard the ground above him crack. Jaime Lannister was ready to die for the things he believe in, for his sins, for his arrogance.

Then the ceiling collapsed, and all was dark.

It started with the window. And then, the door broke down as well.

The soldiers were the best, calmest warriors I've seen in my life, and all they had were rounded shields and dragonglass spears. Even the maids fought for their lives.

I shot in every direction I could. I took out wights far from me, and wights that came from behind as I made my way back to Daenerys side. She had her back to a corner, and the guards around. The baby cried in her arms, and she watched as her soldiers fell with horror. The maids came down in screams.

I changes another magazine quickly. The bodies piled up. It smelled awful, but I didn't pay much attention to it right now. The last Unsullied fell with a wave of wights rushing in.

I looked behind my shoulder to find Daenerys closing her eyes, with an almost calm expression. And when she opened them, a huge flame came through the window, killing and burning the wights that came through the door, and lighting up the room.

"Take her," Daenerys said. She looked like she was going to faint. I heard the batting og wings from the outside. "Now, Andie! Go!"

I couldn't do this. My legs turned into stone. "Daenerys, you have to come with me. You have to come and be a queen, a mother-"

"Look at me, Andie!" She snapped. "I will slow you down! I will put my child in danger!' The baby didn't stop crying. The flames grew bigger in the room. I looked at the fire in fear. Daenerys turned my face to her with her hand and forced me to look her in the eyes. "I will not burn. You will. She might." She said and anything but shoved her baby into my hands, still holding my face with one of her hands. "I know you love him," she had a softer voice now, "She's his as much as she's mine."

I pressed my lips and nodded as Daenerys let go of me. She looked at her baby one last time and leaned in to give her a long kiss on the forehead. "Through the window." She commanded as she straightened her back, standing like the queen she is and tearing a torch from the wall, ready to burn everything down.

"I hope we'll meet again," I said and pressed the baby closer to my body, to keep her warm and safe. Daenerys didn't say anything.

And then I ran. I jumped through the window with blind faith, hugging the tiny creature to my heart.

I didn't land in snow or into a pile of wights. I landed on the back of a dragon.

He was spiky, yet somehow smooth. And warm, so, so warm.

We soar into the sky, away from the smoke and death, into the bright moonlight.

Daenerys' clothed burned away as she stood in the flames, ready for anything. The wights didn't come through the door or window for a while now.

She was weak, and still suffered from the pain she had in her body. Giving birth was not an easy task.

When she thought she could rest and sit on the flaming floor, a figure came through the door. It wasn't human. It wasn't a wight. It was taller than most humans, with white-grey wrinkled skin and bright blue eyes. She knew him, she knew him from when he murdered one of her children.

Daenerys Stormborn aimed her torch at the Night King as he stepped through the flames, unscarthered. He stood in front of her and she felt herself shking. From the cold that radiated around him, from fear, from his almost-a-winning-smile.

She looked into his eyes and knew she couldn't fight him, even if she was in a good shape. Daenerys gave him her most hateful look, never tearing her eyes from his, ready to die.

The Night King touched her cheek with one finger, and every part of her body felt like it was turning into ice.

The baby calmed down. She didn't cry anymore. It was quiet up here. as if the battle ended. Maybe it did?

The screams of the Ice Dragon made me understand it wasn't over. I ducked as it tried to reach me with its claws.

Drogon shrieked and flew higher, then attacked his dead brother. He bit his neck with savage movements as I held hard to his back.

It was a fight of claws and teeth, sharp and huge and scary. The dragons were so fucking huge up close.

Then the flame came, and I thought this is how I am going to die. Burnt alive by blue fire on a dragon's back.

The blue flame almost burnt Drogon's tail and he wailed loudly and sped up. The baby started crying again, reminding me she's here too. I shielded her while the crazy dragon fight was happening, and had no idea what to do. They were moving too fast-I couldn't hold a baby with one hand and try to stay on a dragon's back using another, while a different dragon is attacking us. Shit, I never thought I'll think that in my life.

We need a way out.

We need a way out.

We need a way out-

"Country roads, take me home. To the place where I belong."

Where the fuck did this country music come from? I blinked in confusion as the song kept playing from my pocket.

My pocket… wait, was that my dead battery phone?

I pressed my lips, not sure of it. But if my song started playing random country songs…

I pulled it out of my pocket and held it in my hand, watching the glowing scream in wonder.

The Viserion crashed into us and I fell off Drogon's back, hugging tightly the princess in one hand as my phone kept playing. I closed my eyes shut as we shot down from the sky, hoping like an idiot that maybe the snow down there is as soft as it looks.

Jon walked into Winterfell after fighting his way through.

The castle was quiet. The survivors walked around, shocked, scarred, injured. Piles of bodies replaced the piles of snow. The Dead just turned and walked somewhere else. Jon couldn't understand them, but he didn't care. Especially not now.

He was hurt. but still ran up the stairs to Daenerys' chambers.

The door was down. It smelled like smoke and burned bodies. He walked inside to find the room burned and covered in ashed, with no sign of Daeners. or Andie, or his newborn daughter.

Jon fell down on his knees, feeling more lost than he felt in a long, long time.

I was ready for it. I was ready to suffer to impact of hitting the ground, hopefully saving that tiny creature in my hands. Hopeful good human will find us before she'll die. Maybe even wolves will be cool enough to take care of her like Mugly, or Drogon will find us. I closed my eyes and bit my lip.

But no.

I've found myself on a hard ground, as if I stood there all along. I didn't dare to open my eyes just yet.

The wind didn't blow in my ears. It wasn't freezing around me. The sound I have heard was familiar, but I didn't hear it for so long.

I slowly opened my eyes to find myself and the baby in my arms, inside a very familiar place. I know that white and blue checkered floor. I know those pots and and hanging over my head. And I know that women, wearing a green raincoat, with a short brown hair. She dropped a cat food can and looked at me with wide eyes and shock.

The sound I have heard were cars, helicopters, the subway underneath. The things that used to be my background, but now seemed loud and very present. It was the sound of New York City

"Karen?" "Andie?!"

We asked at the same time.

And then my head felt light. I shoved the poor little human into my trusty boss's hands before I hit the floor and everything went black.