Here it is then, the Long Night of No Mercy! I'll get straight into the lengthy chapter because it is a really good one in my opinion!
I own none of the actual characters, only the OC's. All the proper characters are the property of either George R R Martin or HBO.
It was pandemonium outside of the camp. Men and horses were rushing around everywhere shouting and some even crying. Loren did his best to just force his way forwards to his mark, but there were thousands of men all trying to do the same thing. He passed Eldrick on the way through to the front lines and Loren roughly grabbed the new Lord of Sarsfield by the arm.
"Don't miss!" He called out to his friend and bannerman over the commotion.
Eldrick smirked, clasping Loren tightly on the forearm that had grabbed him. "Stay alive, my friend." Loren nodded and pulled Eldrick in for a tight hug before they parted just as quickly, both having separate jobs to do. Loren pushed further, and he saw Damian Jast with his Father leading the men of House Jast to their marks. Finally he managed to get beyond the hastily erected wooden walls that would be behind them and he joined the rest of his men, the Dornish and the Reach knights stood in formation.
Loren and the rest of the Lannisters fighting with him made their way to the very front of the ranks, where the Lord of Casterly Rock wasn't surprised to already see Daven Lannister already conversing with Ser Lyle Crakehall and Lambert Turnberry. Loren greeted them all with a firm arm shake before he found his place in the formation and turned to face northwards. He could just about see the three deformed towers of Moat Cailin in the moonlight, and beyond that there was nothing but darkness.
"MAKE WAY!" A call came from behind them all, and a dozen riders in Arryn regalia burst forwards on horseback, all with torches. One horse had two riders, a young boy dressed in black that Loren presumed was one of the few survivors of the Night's Watch that had the unlucky job of needing to climb one of the booby-trapped towers and announce when the enemy was arriving.
Over to Loren's left stood the Dornish, all holding Dragonglass tipped spears. His own men were wielding obsidian short swords, and Loren hoped that though the weapons were unfamiliar, the training they had would shine through. To the right he spotted the forces of House Tyrell, finally united under one monarch for the first time since Tommen died.
"You're worrying." Lambert said from beside him. Loren turned to his red-headed taller friend and nodded. "Don't, we all have faith in you, My Lord." Lambert sighed as he looked out to the darkness. "Think of your Jeyne to keep you calm. I'm thinking of my twins now, wondering what they look like, if they got my hair or Joanna's."
Lyle snorted. "Hopefully not your fiery locks Strawberry, the poor children…" He then shrugged. "Though hopefully the boy looks more like you than Tybolt did…"
"Uncle." Loren warned. "We should not speak ill of the dead, not now." He stared out to where the army of the dead were lurking in the darkness.
"Even Jo said that though." Lambert grinned. "Though that might just be because she found me so irresistibly handsome on our wedding night."
Lyle joke gagged. "Enough about my niece's night-time fancies, please."
Loren laughed aloud at that. "We will get you back to your twins my friend." He told the Lord of Redramble, and he gripped Lambert's forearm in a shake before he turned back to face the impeding darkness allowing his mind to wander, and he did think of Jeyne. She was slightly older, and he imagined her curly golden hair being blown in the sea breeze as he and Cerenna walked on behind her. An image of peace.
That image was shattered with a single, lengthy, boneshaking horn blast. Almost immediately afterwards the first trench began to light up, sending a shot of fire across to act as a barricade. Loren was one of the few who didn't wave their weapons in the air and roar in celebration, instead he turned to his Uncle Jaime on the other side of him knowingly and shook his head.
"They're coming." He said firmly, ignoring the thundering hooves of the Vale knights retreating to behind them. Jaime, in Lannister armour this time instead of his usual Kingsguard garb, withdrew Pride once the last of the horses was back behind the wooden wall. Loren did the same with Red Rain, using his gauntleted fist to then close the face guard on his helmet. As the celebrations died down, the only noise that could be heard was the crackling of the fires hundreds of yards ahead of them and the scared breathing of the thousands of men all lined up.
Loren could barely see anything beyond the fires, but the first thing he did see chilled him to his very core. Bright blue eyes peering out from beyond the flames. Loren picked up his shield and tightened it on his left arm, swinging Red Rain to loosen his joints. "STAY READY MEN!" He bellowed. "HOLD!" The blue eyes moved closer, and the flames in the first trench extinguished with a gust of icy wind that knocked Loren slightly. Once he had regained his stance, Loren realised that he could see the demon better now, the crown atop his icy head symbolising exactly who stood before him. Bending his knees to get a better stance so he wouldn't be knocked over again, Loren roared once more. "HOLD!" He tightened his grip on the Valyrian Steel blade in his hand preparing for a charge, when a different, beastly roar sounded from behind him.
As the third horn blast sounded Jon sheathed Longclaw after having spent the last hour polishing it and began to tie the sword belt around his waist as Daenerys and her Unsullied guard left the command hall with just Jon and Bran inside. Jon watched the silver haired beauty go, pausing for just a moment, though that was long enough apparently.
"Your destiny does not lie with Daenerys Targaryen, Jon." Bran's monotone voice sounded, and Jon swivelled around to see his brother… cousin.
"We are family now, we will always be linked." Jon corrected.
"Not in the way you wish." Bran said sullenly. "You have your path separate to hers, you must let go."
A dragon roar sounded from outside and Jon could hear the flapping of two pairs of wings and got a feeling of longing hit his mind. He grabbed his wolfskin cloak from the command table and wrapped it around his shoulders. "I cannot do that, Bran." He explained, then adding a couple of Dragonglass daggers to his arsenal.
Bran didn't make a move, he just stared deeply into Jon's eyes. "She loves another, you must do the same."
Jon's anger began to rise, but he squashed that down as the doors opened and a group of Northmen led by Lyanna Mormont and Unsullied led by Jorah Mormont entered the command room bickering. "We will talk about this another time." The crippled Stark didn't respond at all, he just kept staring at Jon. Sighing, Jon placed a kiss on Bran's forehead and left the room. He made his way through the last lines of defence, noticing an axe wielding Tyrion Lannister being told to go into the command room by Lady Brienne of Tarth, before Jon finally made it to where Rhaegal was impatiently waiting. "There boy." Jon calmed the beast down, before he looked at the dragon questioningly. "Or are you a girl?" He shook his head before he looked up at the sky and noticed that a pair of dragons were hovering high above them. "Never mind, your Mother is out there on her own, what do you say we go and help her?"
Rhaegal let out a large bellowing roar into the sky, and Jon smirked at the confirmation. He climbed the dragon and settled down in between its spikes before he spoke the necessary command in High Valyrian. "Fly!"
It was a matter of minutes between the time it took for Daenerys Targaryen to leave the command room, mount Drogon and rise into the air. She did a quick fly by the southern part of the camp, watching as everybody down below was rushing to their positions. Her experience in the air had taught her a lot about being observant from so high up, and she immediately noticed the golden pauldrons of Loren Lannister exit a tent, and watched as he and two others rushed northwards, while the smaller member of that party headed east, stopping in front of a large blonde person amidst a bunch of Stormlander banners.
She then spotted Jon leaving the command room and making his way to where Rhaegal was still grounded. Grinning, Daenerys urged Drogon to turn and speed away to the south, making sure that he was battle ready. As the great dragon sped away, she turned around and saw Jon following her. "Left!" Daenerys cried out in High Valyrian, and Drogon turned as commanded, strafing towards the left and turning back to face the North. Jon did the same, and by the time Daenerys pulled Drogon up to hover once again, she looked down to see the lines basically drawn.
The bulk of her forces were in front of the hastily built wooden wall, almost 100,000 men hailing from Dorne, the Reach, the Riverlands and the Westerlands stretched along the hospitable and frozen marshland surrounding the Causeway. Behind the wall was everybody else, all of Daenerys' more loyal forces from the other Kingdoms left in reserve at Loren Lannister's request. Then atop the wall that stretched for an age were the archers of the Seven Kingdom's. Men and women from House Glenmore, House Hunter, the Dornish Marches, House Sarsfield and the many more that were proud of their skills with the bows. They would be vital in the fight, Loren had told her, and she should never underestimate ranged weaponry.
The singular horn blast knocked Daenerys out of her thoughts as she stared ahead once again. The first trench had been ignited and she noticed the mounted warriors of the Vale heading back through Moat Cailin and behind the barricades. She urged Drogon to go a little closer, glad that Viserion and Rhaegal were doing the same. From her vantage point she could see the horde that they were facing, thousands upon thousands of reanimated dead stood behind the dozen mounted ice demons. Her face froze in fear as even from the height she was at, the cold blue eyes of the one in the middle of the group found her own. His head cocked like a dog investigating something before the Night King looked ahead again, taking a step forwards and extinguishing the flames with a cold gust of icy wind that even the Targaryen felt from above. Drogon shifted backwards, audibly annoyed at the cold air, and so Daenerys patted him gently and spoke. "Easy, Drogon." She tried to calm the beast. Looking back down she saw that the wights had begun their charge, and so Daenerys simply smirked and cried. "Dracarys!"
Drogon let out an earth-shattering roar and jolted forwards, racing down towards the ground and letting out a huge gust of fire that engulfed the first of the wights to get past the first trench. Daenerys rose into the air again quickly after the strafing run, turning Drogon to do one more diving run which incinerated what must have been dozens of dead. As Daenerys turned Drogon round for a third run she saw multiple lines of fires which the dead were having to avoid, but there were so many of them hundreds were getting through and were close to clashing with the armies of the living. Daenerys urged her mount forwards once again, and this time aimed the flames at the Gatehouse Tower.
The explosion of black fire sent a massive shockwave out into the open, which in turn set off the other two towers. Drogon screeched and rose as quickly as he could to get away from the raining fire, but Dany couldn't hear a thing other than a high pitch whistling in her ears. As her vision blurred, she slumped forwards against Drogon before she blacked out.
The shockwave that erupted from the towers threw Loren to the ground in a daze. Everything seemed to go in slow motion as Jaime pulled him back to his feet, shouting something in his face that Loren couldn't hear. The former Lord Commander of the Kingsguard slapped Loren around the face, waking the younger man up.
"FORM UP!" Jaime was roaring around him. "HOLD YOUR LINES!" He turned to Loren. "They're still coming."
"What the fuck was that?" Loren asked painfully, wiping Red Rain clean of now falling ash before grabbing it from the frozen ground at the same time as he picked up his shield.
"Whatever it is, it's working." Jaime pointed Pride out to what used to be the towers of Moat Cailin but was now a roaring black fire that was larger that the mound of Moat Cailin had been. The explosion had caused a plume of black smoke to rise higher than anything Loren had ever seen in his life, and from that smoke the ash was falling down upon them. The heat was barely tolerable, and the Lannister Lord knew he would have hated to be in the middle of it.
Sure enough as Loren looked closely into the roaring fires at Moat Cailin he could hear faint screaming, and he saw the outlines of wights rolling around in the flames before they stopped completely. "Did we win?" He heard Daven Lannister ask.
"No, look." Lambert pointed his own sword out to the left side of the Moat. Loren had to squint his eyes, an action which was made difficult as his head was still pounding, but he could make out moving bodies rushing towards them.
"SHIELD WALL!" Loren roared, and his groggy front line all dug their shield spikes into the ground. He tapped Red Rain on both of his pauldrons and whispered. "Warrior, give me strength." Turning back to the wall he spotted the green surcoats of House Sarsfield. "ARCHERS!" He roared, waiting as the call flew back throughout the ranks. Loren held his recognisable sword high in the air as he waited for Eldrick to spot him, and once the new Lord had drawn his bow ready to shoot out a set of fire arrows, Loren swung his sword down.
The entire wall of archers let loose, and thousands of fire arrows flew overhead. A cheer went up from the formation of the living, but it was short lived. The fires were snuffed out mid air and they impacted with the Dragonglass trench harmlessly, with no fires lit. Swearing, Loren had them try again, but the same result happened.
"The air is too cold." A woman's voice sounded beside Loren making the Lannister jump out of his skin as the Red Woman pushed between Loren and Jaime. "The heat from the explosion isn't affecting the Great Other's magic."
"Fuck!" Loren cried, bringing his hand to his chest as he breathed deeply to calm down. "Where did you come from?"
"Far away." Melisandre said longingly. "I shall not see it again." She turned to a dazed and confused Loren. "I am very sorry for your losses." She said strangely before she took steps forwards.
Loren was baffled and lost for words, so much so that when he realised the Red Woman was walking towards the trench it was too late. He went to go and grab her, but Jaime held his arm back. "No!" His Uncle said firmly.
"I can't leave her to be torn apart!" Loren cried out.
"She's made her choice. Look!" Jaime pointed, and true enough Melisandre had gotten to the final trench and knelt down, her hands gripping some of the Dragonglass spikes. Loren couldn't hear what she was saying, but after a couple of seconds the kindling they had mixed in with the Dragonglass defences erupted and a second line of fire was drawn.
Loren relaxed slightly, but he noticed that the Red Woman wasn't moving away from where she was kneeling. The entire line of living could only stand and watch as the charging wights stopped before the fires. Loren saw a couple of them try to throw themselves onto the fires, but they immediately disintegrated when they tried and the fires remained.
"She's giving her power to the flames." Lambert said from beside Loren. "Look."
Sure enough, Loren watched as the flames seemed to originate from Melisandre's hands, and as more and more wights began screeching in burned agony, Loren thought he saw the fire dancing and spitting out, hitting the wights where they were stood. Smirking, Loren turned to one of his Lords nearby, Lord Damon Marbrand. "PROTECT HER!"
Damon nodded and immediately rushed out with a dozen of his men who had crossbows on their backs, but it was too late. Before they had even gotten five paces away from the main army Loren watched in horror as an ice blade plunged through the flames and into the Red Woman's heart. She held on for as long as she could, but soon enough her hands left the Dragonglass, and she slumped to the ground.
"FUCK!" Loren swore. "GET BACK IN FORMATION! KEEP THAT SHIELD WALL STRONG!" He roared. "ARCHERS! FIRE AT WILL!"
As the flames dissipated, more arrows flew overhead, but this time they were unlit Dragonglass arrows and they were managing to drop the wights that they impacted. Then a dragon roared, and Loren winced as the bright lights of dragon fire lit up the ground their side of the trenches. The harsh reality was that there were more wights than a single arrow storm could take down and the flames only stopped so many wights, and it wasn't too long before the dead were beyond the trench and rushing at the living. "HOLD!" Jaime roared at Loren's men. "HOLD!"
And then, the dead crashed into Loren's shield with incomprehensible force.
By the time Jon had regained control of Rhaegal after the shockwave had hit them and the pair were speeding closer to the inevitable fight, he was too late to save Melisandre. He had seen from a distance as he sped towards her to try and save her how she had wrestled for control with the Night King trying to push his blade through the flames without any luck at first, but the force of the Night King eventually paid off and the blade pierced through flames, flesh and bone.
Jon roared in agony. He hadn't necessarily liked the Red Woman, but she had brought him back to life, she had accompanied him and guided him in reuniting with his brother and sister and she had given him the courage needed to lead the force that took Winterfell after the mutiny had knocked him. He channelled his anger through the link he somehow felt with Rhaegal and let a stream of fire loose on the unsuspecting wights that were pushing beyond the trench now that the magic of the Red God was unable to push them back.
Jon pulled upwards on Rhaegal's spike and rose high into the air, urging Rhaegal onwards to get a good distance before he got the large green dragon to turn and race towards the ground once more. He saw the streams of wights get past the wall and crash into the strong front lines of the living, while also seeing Drogon and Viserion's humungous fire streams incinerating wights. As Rhaegal neared the ground, Jon roared. "DRACARYS!"
Another huge jet of flames impacted the ground with a bang, and as the dragon raced down the ranks of the dead Jon felt a bit better having obliterated some, but as he urged Rhaegal upwards once more, the true extent of the Night King's numbers showed themselves as thousands upon thousands were rushing towards the living. Jon did one more strafing run, this time managing to blast two giants among the hundreds of regular wights in his path, before he veered off to the side and flew beyond the wooden wall, landing the dragon nearby the Stormlander and Vale armies. "WE NEED YOU!" Jon called out towards the Bronze Yohn in his famous rune covered armour. "START YOUR CHARGES! AIM FOR THE WALKERS!"
"You heard him!" Yohn Royce called out to his own men from atop his horse. He pulled out his sword from the scabbard on the horse's side and yelled. "FOR THE VALE!"
"FOR THE VALE! FOR STORM'S END!" Were some of the calls that flew up, but Jon didn't have time to sit and catch his breath, so he urged Rhaegal to rise high into the sky once more, waiting to feel the chill of the clouds on his cheek before he leant forwards, and Rhaegal accelerated towards the battle once more.
Despite his young years, Loren had been involved in his fair share of battles. The Golden Tooth, the Battle of the Blackwater, Riverrun, the skirmishing in Dorne and the Battle of the Gold Road. None of those past experiences however could have ever prepared him for the onslaught of the dead. From the moment of the first crash against the Lannister shields Loren had been thrusting his Valyrian Steel sword our from behind the strong shield wall dozens upon dozens of times. His arms were growing tired, but the wall was holding.
That was until all of a sudden, the pressure on the shields stopped. Loren could feel some of his men whisper and loosen their stance, so he cried out. "HOLD THE WALL!"
"What's happening?" Jaime hissed. Loren just shrugged however as the battle still raged on in the distance around them. He was about to peer around his shield to see when all of a sudden the already cold winds grew colder, with an icy bite to the air. Loren's teeth began to chatter and his joints felt like they were freezing up, and he tried to shake himself warm again when the reason for the halt in attack made itself evident.
Lambert cried out in pain beside him, and from behind the shield wall Loren could see the red steel turn an icy blue, and Lambert's left hand froze to the handle. He tried to free himself, but to no avail. "Lor!" Lambert cried, but before Loren could react his best friend's shield shattered into thousands of pieces, along with the left hand of the Lord of Redramble, and in that shields place stood one of the White Walker's, its white hair draped over ancient looking black armour. Time stood still as Loren gaped in horror at the now armless Ser Lambert Turnberry, and the red head tried to bring his Dragonglass blade up to defend himself, but the White Walker was too quick, and Lambert's severed head dropped to the floor at Loren's feet.
Roaring in anger, Loren brought his shield out of the frozen ground and swung Red Rain loosely. The musical twang of the Valyrian Steel meeting the ice weapon of the White Walker was loud, but the main thing Loren noticed was the hint of surprise in the blue eyes of the demon. Loren pushed forwards with all of his might, knocking the White Walker slightly off balance before swinging Red Rain around again, impacting with the White Walker's neck.
The demon shattered into thousands of tiny pieces and Loren saw thousands of wights drop lifelessly to the ground at the same time. Panting and aching, Loren dropped the point of his sword down to the snowy ground and looked out as the horses of the Vale and the Stormlands impacted with the wights. He barely even noticed as some of his own men charged past him, sensing the tide turning. Loren just looked back down at the ground, at Lambert's lifeless eyes staring over to the side and he felt a tear freeze on his cheek.
"LOREN!" He finally heard as the Warden of the West got shoved to one side by Jaime. "He's dead, I'm sorry, but you're going to join him if you don't pay attention!"
Loren nodded, wiping away the tear in his eye as he let anger overtake him again. He lifted up Red Rain and called out. "FORMATION!" With a loud grunt and a thud as the Lannister shields impacted the ground once again, pulling into a tighter formation, Loren counted to three and screamed. "NOW!" With a loud, unison cry, the Lannister wall moved forward three paces before slamming their shields back into the ground. "NOW!" Loren shouted again, and once more they moved three paces forwards and stopped to reset. This move continued repeatedly a number of times before finally they grew closer to the fighting and the wights charged again.
These ones were more feral, and Loren could feel the dead behind his shield scrambling for any foothold to climb onto. Looking around he saw wights vaulting the shield wall and getting in behind them, and he heard the dying screams of his men.
"WE CAN'T HOLD THEM OFF!" Jaime roared.
"THEN KILL AS MANY AS YOU CAN!" Loren shouted back, giving one final push on his shield before dropping it and bringing both hands onto the hilt of Red Rain, slicing the three wights that had been trying to get past him in one fell swoop. "FOR CASTERLY ROCK!" He roared, and Loren led the charge into the fray.
It was carnage. Loren was hacking around at anything that moved around him as the dead snarled and clawed through his men. It wasn't one sided however, and in the peripheral of his vision he saw the living Westerlanders carving through the onrushing dead. He saw his Uncle Lyle pick up one of the dead and pull it apart with his bare hands, before throwing each body part at separate wights and charging in with his recently unsheathed double handed steel greatsword. Jaime on his other side was as skilful as ever, Pride was twirling about splitting numerous bodies into pieces.
It was starting to look good for the living, but as always that didn't last long as all of a sudden the temperature dropped massively, and a huge mist cloud raced towards the south. Even with the raging fires of the now destroyed Moat Cailin Loren could barely see more than two feet in front of his eyes. He kept swinging and impacting with the dead despite the vision being so poor, until he was barrelled over by something heavy, dropping Red Rain in the process. Scrambling backwards as quickly as he could, Loren somehow managed to free a Dragonglass dagger from his midriff and wait for the wight to launch itself at him, and Loren embedded the knife in its neck before rolling them both over and grabbing Red Rain, trying to get to his feet when he was knocked over again, this time onto his front. He tried to spin back to face upright, but he felt a claw dig into his leathers protected thigh, and Loren let out a cry of agony. He kicked the wight with his steel heel and swivelled around, stabbing it in the jaw with Red Rain before he tried to get to his feet. His leg was in agony, but Loren kept fighting. Jabbing here, slashing there, and with every swing he lessened the army of the dead by one.
The cold was getting bad though and Loren was feeling it in his now exposed thigh. Grimacing, he fought on, noticing blue eyes darting around in the near distance. Gripping Red Rain tightly he limped over towards them, noticing that men wearing all kinds of sigils, and armour were falling. Loren gained momentum, turning his limp into a walk, and his walk into a run, letting out a huge roar as he parried the demon's large ice blade and saving a man in Baratheon yellow. Only then however, did Loren look up and see who he was fighting. The iced crown atop the Night King's head only made him look more menacing, but Loren was enraged by Lambert's death and the horrors surrounding him that he had no fear inside him. He swung on the attack, but the Night King easily blocked that, so Loren tried again as he swung Red Rain at the Night King's head, his torso, both sides. Nothing worked though as the Night King, without looking like too much effort was being input, parried it all. Loren took a step back for a breather before he lunged forwards again, twirling his sword in all sorts of directions as all of his training came into one fight. He lunged, he ducked, he twisted, and he parried as the Lannister and the Night King were locked in a fast-paced duel until a rogue backhand to the side of the head launched Loren about 20 feet. Groaning, the world around him seemed to start moving at a half speed, and Loren tried to get up only to see the Night King walking towards him menacingly. Loren tried to push himself up to his feet once again, but the pain in his head was raging and his elbows gave way, sending Loren back down to the frozen marshland. Groaning, he kept Red Rain in his hands as the Night King neared, but he was forced to shield his eyes as a searing heat and a roaring fire battered the ground close to his feet. Loren felt strong arms wrap under his arms and around his chest as he was hauled away, and he could finally open to see a barrage of dragon fire from two different directions completely cover the Night King. He could see a trail of blood being left behind as he was dragged across the ground, but as the dragon fire stopped and the cold air dimmed the flames, Loren's sole attention was on the still standing Night King. In his foggy vision and through the flickering of the flames, Loren could still see the smirk of the Night King as he stepped out from the fire and picked up his ice javelin. Horrified, Loren made ready with his sword but thankfully the javelin was thrown elsewhere into the sky.
Sighing as all noise around him basically stopped but for his breathing, Loren relaxed his arms slightly before he was dropped and was pulled up to lean against a warm stone block that must have come from one of the Moat Cailin towers. Lyle Crakehall then appeared from behind him and knelt down, checking Loren's eyes. "You're woozy, you can't fight any longer."
"I will do…" Loren said before the pain in his head flared. He winced and put his gauntleted hand to the spot. "I will do my duty to the realm."
"You did it." Lyle said firmly. "I'm taking you back." He nodded in agreement of his own decision before he roared in pain, reaching behind him and pulling up a wight. Loren watched as Lyle turned around and threw the wight to the floor, noticing the rusty dagger in Lyle's shoulder when the golden armour of Jaime came through the mist and ended the wight quickly. Lyle grimaced and ripped the dagger from his shoulder, throwing it distastefully to the floor.
"Are you alright?" Jaime asked the pair of them.
"I'm fine." Lyle growled, before gesturing to Loren. "He's not."
Jaime knelt down before Loren and checked him over, agreeing with Lyle's assessment. "You fought well. Go and get some rest."
"Not when we're still fighting." Loren groaned, but his voice sounded slurred and both his head and his leg seared with pain.
"Ser Lyle, get him away." Jaime said, when some cries were heard in the distance. Loren couldn't see past the two men, but their frames froze in fear before Lyle quickly turned and picked Loren up over his shoulder. "Go!"
Lyle began running, but Loren was facing his Lannister Uncle as he was being taken away and watched as Jaime readied himself in a stance and meet the Night King in a duel. Loren felt helpless as Jaime parried and parried, until the ice blade of the Night King plunged through his chest. Loren screamed, holding his hand out to try and reach his uncle, to grab his body and pull him away, but almost as soon as Loren outstretched his hand the swirling mist engulfed his vision and he couldn't see Jaime any longer. "Go back!" Loren tried to command, but as he struggled against the firm grip of the well named Strongboar, he felt all the fight in him drain away and he slumped, his vision turning black.
The newly chosen Queen of the Seven Kingdom's wasn't unconscious for long after the explosion of Moat Cailin, but when she woke up again she had almost fallen off of her dragon. Thankfully she caught herself before returning to trying to burn every dead thing below that she could see, an action which the unmounted Viserion was copying. The Targaryen didn't know how much time passed, but the streams of fire that she could see down below through the storm made it seem like it had been hours.
She kept her ears trained on the fight below and moved Drogon into places where the horrible shrieks of the dead were louder than the calling of the living, burning thousands of wights in her strafing runs, and eventually she saw a group of men getting completely destroyed by one singular White Walker, the one with the crowned head. Growling, Dany urged Drogon upwards as she flew past, once again noticing the golden pauldrons of the Lannister Lord, though they were duller than she remembered. She tried to turn to get some speed to attack the Night King, but by the time it had taken for her to get momentum and turn, Loren Lannister was on the floor crawling away. She saw Jon also darting to the Night King, and the pair of Targaryen's had evidently had the same idea.
"DRACARYS!" She shouted, and in all the times she had mounted Drogon and called on him to breathe fire, she had never felt anything as powerful as she now did. Drogon's neck was so warm that the heat between her legs reminded Daenerys of the time she walked into Drogon's pyre. Still, she wasn't burned or scolded and both Drogon and Rhaegal rained fire down on the Night King. Leaning to one side, Dany saw the surviving Crakehall brother pulling Loren away, and she mentally urged Drogon to carry on, to burn this demon to cinders.
Eventually though, both dragons just grew too tired to continue. She quickly pulled Drogon away to get back into the air, catch his breath and go again. Once again as the dragon turned in the air she looked over to see what she was flying into, and what she saw horrified her. The fires hadn't even touched the Night King, and the leader of the dead had a javelin in its hand. Dany noticed that the Night King was looking at Loren getting further away, but she still forced Drogon on, to try and stop the Night King from taking yet another life, but she was too late. The Night King swung away from Dany's direction and launched, the javelin spearing a nearby Viserion in the neck.
The agonising screech of her child brought tears to her eyes. Drogon let out a harrowing roar, and from the distance she heard Rhaegal do exactly the same. The mist was starting to clear a little so Dany could see Viserion trying desperately to stay airborne, but the pain must have been too much, and after spilling gallons and gallons of hot, burning dragon blood over the Dornish part of the battle, Viserion crashed into the wooden barricades with a horrific thud and stayed down, lifeless.
"GO! PROTECT YOUR BROTHER!" Dany shouted, and Drogon let out another frightful roar before racing towards the breach in the walls. Below her she could see countless burned and crushed men that had been near or on the walls. She spun Drogon around and shouted. "DRACARYS!" towards the onrushing wights, allowing the living to regroup. She looked down to see a bloodied blonde rallying the able around the wounded and trying to lead a man barricade of the breach before looking down at the lifeless Viserion. Tears were flowing freely down her pale cheeks, and then an anger set inside Daenerys, and she looked out for the Night King from above, knowing exactly what she wanted to kill next.
The breach in the walls gave the wights a noticeable target to aim for, and Jon predicted just moments before it happened that the dead would rush it. With a yell he pushed Rhaegal into the direction of Bran, racing over a hovering Drogon as the black dragon let out waves and waves of dragon fire upon the uncaring dead. He landed Rhaegal in the same spot that he initially mounted the dragon and slid down its side, turning and placing a hand to Rhaegal's jaw. "Any enemy comes near you, make sure you burn it." Jon told his dragon. Rhaegal just huffed as if it were obvious and that was enough for Jon. He unsheathed Longclaw and rushed in.
Wights had broken the defence and the fighting was ferocious. Thankfully the guards by the command hut hadn't been called into action so Jon went into the actual battle, hacking away with extreme prejudice at any blue-eyed rotting corpses. He stopped a group from overrunning the Tarth woman before finding himself fighting side by side with the skilled Loras Tyrell.
Jon lost track of how long he was on the ground fighting for, but he did eventually notice the figure of his Hardhome nightmares stepping towards him. Jon snarled and focused himself on the Night King, stepping backwards to allow himself some space. The Night King's eyes didn't leave Jon's as he stalked forwards, killing man after man as he went. Jon's heart broke as he saw Lyanna Mormont skewered by the icy blade, before finally they were face to face, 30 yards apart.
Jon walked forwards, his face barely containing his rage. He twirled Longclaw in his hand ready and waiting for the clash that was to come. The Night King also walked forwards, an eerily calm look of inevitability on his face. With a roar, swords clashed with a musical twang, and Jon hacked and hacked down at the Night King, screaming and roaring with every blow until a fist hit him in the stomach. Falling backwards, coughing and spluttering from the blow, Jon rolled over onto his front and crawled over towards the hut sword still in hand. He managed to get to his feet briefly, but his balance was off and he fell to the snowy floor once again. Sighing, he pushed himself up and caught his breath, turning round to see the Night King once again walking towards him until the crowned demon just stopped.
The door behind Jon opened, and his attention was quickly taken by Bran in his wheelchair just sitting in the doorway, Northmen surrounding him all looking concerned. "Bran…" Jon gasped, his voice high pitched from the blow.
"It's ok, Jon." Bran said in his now standard monotone. "This has to happen." The Stark looked beyond Jon towards the Night King. "It is me you want, it is me you branded."
The Night King looked enraged in a silent snarl as he began to move his feet again, both hands on his weapon. Jon, horrified, looked between the two who only had eyes for the other and screamed. "NO!" He charged at the Night King and anticipated the thrust, dodging that, kicking the hilt of the blade out of his way and Jon spun around, burying the blade of Longclaw deep into the Night King's heart before he was thrown back by the ice explosion that followed.
In the books it is suggested that there are almost 100 White Walkers at least because of the comments about Craster's sons. In the show however which this is based on, I only counted the Night King and 11 others, so there are only 12 White Walkers here. They were spread about the battle and obviously I only really focused on Loren whilst on the ground, hence why you only see the one die before the Night King.
I tried to do things a bit differently here too by bringing in the show storm in their Long Night episode, by showing things from both the dragons perspective as well as on the ground and by showing how different characters see different things. I also tried to give Loren his moment while also keeping the prophecy in play and I think I did that.
Major named characters got killed off, as did thousands of minor characters. The main ones that I feel worthy of a mention here though are of course Jaime Lannister and Lambert Turnberry, aka Loren's idol as a child and his best friend. Both will have a lasting impact on Loren as we go into the future.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think, the Long Night chapters are often my favourites in all the stories I do but they also often don't get too much feedback, so I would really love to know your thoughts.
Next Time: The slain are mourned, while the survivors start to make their plans to liberate King's Landing.
Reviews:
roggerlopez99: I'm glad you liked his reactions!
Supremus85: That's what he does, he drinks, and he knows things and isn't shy about telling people.
Guest (beta): Loren is a product of a kind woman and an evil man, and thankfully the maternal personality won out.
Guest (Riiiiiight): In that same paragraph he explains why that line of thinking is simple anger talking and not something he will live by.
Sir Nikolas Xi Imperia: Thank you for binging it so far! I try and give my OC's their own motivations and personalities and I don't want them to just be paragons of virtue, so in extension to that the story will mould around them as they press their influence, and the canon characters then form their opinions of the OC's as I feel they would. Tyland for example was ruthless and would do what was necessary to cripple his enemies, hence the barbaric treatment of the Stark girls.
Mister LaGuardia: He defied his family when wanted to and when he knew that nothing could be done about it like with his marriage. With Arya, she was an enemy at that point that was giving House Lannister a claim to the Riverlands through Genna's grandson. Loren at the time didn't know how deranged the Frey's can be nor did he think that Genna would have gone along with such a plan. He was 'bored' of Lyanna BECAUSE of the conversation with Arya and Wyman, and the rest of the Northmen and women they would have passed in the week between seeing them and arriving at Moat Cailin. He is also still a Lannister and has a proud personality.
McMysterio: That's what I've tried to portray with Loren. He's a Lannister still, but a different breed to his predecessors. HE also does feel responsible now that he's THE Lannister, not just a Lannister. He's in command and he's Lord Lannister. As for Cersei, she's sitting on a plan for sure.
BlackWatcher1234: Well you got one of your death predictions right… Your feeling was also the opposite, it worked too well! As said above, Cersei has a plan… The only survivors were just a few of your average TV extras, none of the important characters like Gendry, Edd etc survived.