After hearing the blast from the horn, the men did indeed feel it rattle through their bodies and send courage soaring through them. They fought bitterly and with everything they head, but still it was not enough. Ordering everyone to fall back, Jon desperately searched around them. Behind him, Rhaena's wall of fire continued to burn like a protective shield, keeping the wights from climbing the rock from the other side. He looked at her now, ferocious and snarling, fire in one hand and her sword in the other, using both as she willed to fight against the undead. He shouted for his companions to fall back again, and this time Rhaena heard him. Turning to look at him was a mistake, and Jon bellowed as he watched the wight suddenly rise from the ground, not quite as dead as it should have been. It launched itself upon Rhaena's back and grasped hold of her tightly as it stabbed a small knife into her torso, biting down with rotten teeth into the grove of her neck as she screamed from the unexpected assault and pain. Jon tried to rush towards her, but his path was blocked. He lost sight of her, shouting her name with all the terror and fear he possessed. Slashing and hacking aimlessly with his sword, Jon forgot all teachings and trainings. All he wanted was to break through to Rhaena, but she has vanished. The wights were pouring upon them in thick waves, clawing at anyone they could accost, they even had Tormund and were dragging him towards the lake even as he fought and shouted for help. Rhaena. Where was she? Where was the bright flash of her sword, the pale stream of her hair, the fiery violet of her eyes? Staggering backwards, Jon glanced to the wight which was being protected by one of the Watchmen who had come with them, the undead seemingly desperate to retrieve their fellow. Rhaena. Where was Rhaena? Cutting through several more wights, Jon shouted her name once more as Tormund was retrieved by Sandor, pulling him back as those who remained formed a line to hold back the wall of wights crashing against them, however when they heard Jon's desperate cries, they too began to take up the shout and searched for signs of the princess.
They could not see her. For all they knew, she was already dead underneath the feet of the wights who assaulted them. Jon refused to believe it, not until he laid eyes upon the evidence to tell him otherwise. With the dead clamouring to reach them and even attempting to fight against the wall of fire at their backs, Jon lifted his sword to prepare to charge, fully intending to fight his way through to where he had last seen Rhaena. Taking a breath, he began to move, making to give a battle cry worthy of his ancestors, however the shout was drowned by the call of the dragon horn. Rhaena. Without warning a brilliant burst of fire flared to life in a soaring dome, twisting and rising like a cyclone as it stretched outwards with thick ribbons, thrashing and lashing in a manner which Jon could only describe as rage. The wights squealed and cavorted away in fear, desperate to avoid the flames and even cast themselves into the lake where the cracks had splintered the ice floor, retreating from the terrifying figure which stood at the base of the rock completely enshrouded in white and lilac fire, the colours rippling together until the flames shone like gleaming opals. Bleeding but alive, Rhaena slashed with her sword and the fire answered her as she thundered, horn grasped in her other hand where she blasted it once more. Even the air trembled around them as the men took a moment of respite, staring in awe as the fire swept forwards like a wave cresting at its peak, rushing forwards and melting the ice so quickly that it became steam upon impact. Even with her back turned to them, the men could do naught but stare in silent awe of the power Rhaena had unleashed, and when she turned herself to look upon them, they almost fell to their knees from the sight of her eyes shining with bright white flames. She was a flame within a flame, burning and bright, unleashing her dragon's wrath upon the enemy.
As with all flames which burned bright and hot, however, they did not last long. Staggering under the strain, Rhaena fell to the ground as exhaustion slammed itself against her and the fire she created turned to a dull orange shade and receded, only burning where there was still fuel to feed it. Groaning, every part of her ached as Rhaena struggled for breath, bleeding in numerous places from her wounds, but even as she tried to push herself upright a wight launched itself from the water to grasp hold of her leg, nails like daggers digging into her flesh as she bit out a cry and struggled for her sword. There was no fire left in her now, and she was already beginning to freeze. Her body was dragged away, tug by tug, her boot touching the water as the wight attempted to claw its way up her as an anchor. Fear began to creep back into her, however before she could be pulled under, Jon's sword slashed through the wight and it squealed pathetically, releasing her as it fell away. A hand grasped her under her arm and hauled her to her feet in a single movement, catching her as she staggered so that she fell over Jon's shoulder which allowed him to lift her up and carry her back to the safety of the others as Ser Jorah retrieved her sword. "Rhae…Rhae…can you hear me?" As he set her down upon the ground, Jon clutched at her face. There was blood everywhere, she was covered in it, and it was already covering his gloves, but it was not Jon Rhaena was looking at. It was the sky.
"They are here…" Breathless, she suddenly smiled. Confused by her words, Jon looked up just as a massive black shadow swept down from the clouds with a thunderous roar, descending upon them with a release of dragon fire. Drogon. Twisting herself, Rhaena searched the skies until she saw Rhaegal and Viserion too, listening to their sweet cries as they also descended upon the wight army even as it struggled to reach them still. "Rhaegal!" Rhaena felt she would burst into tears for sheer joy as Rhaegal turned his head towards her and answered her cry, flapping his great jade wings and releasing his fury upon the enemy that had caused her hurts. Because of her flames there was only a small portion of the lake untouched and strong enough for the wights to rush over, but even despite the arrival of three dragons they would not retreat. It did not matter. Not anymore. Her sister was here with their dragons. Nothing could stop them now. Finding the last residual strength she possessed, Rhaena pushed herself to her feet whilst grasping hold of Jon, rising with him before stepping from him. Alarmed, Jon shouted for her as Rhaena leaped from the rock and began to run forwards across the ice, staring in horror as she charged towards the line of wights without a weapon in her hand. Ser Jorah still held her sword. Rhaena did not stop, she did not falter, and when Jon was about to press his eyes closed so that he did not have to see her fall, the dragon Rhaegal descended from above and burned away the wights, wings striking against the air as he lowered himself as close to the water as he could manage. With a swing of his tail, Rhaena launched herself against it as Jon stared, watching as she climbed all the way up Rhaegal even as he took off once more.
This was where she belonged and where she felt safest. Rhaena felt as if she could suddenly breathe again the moment she came into contact with Rhaegal. Warmth returned to her fingers and a small ember of flames flickered within her once again. Once she had reached the base of his neck, Rhaena flung her arms about him as he soared with her over the undead army. Looking down upon them, her face became one of fury. "Dracarys!" With a thunderous reply, Rhaegal released a rush of fire upon the endless hoards of wights, killing them by the hundreds. The more they burned now, the less they would have to battle later. Rhaena took every pleasure afforded to her in watching the creatures burn below her as she flew on her dragon, now untouchable. Victory seemed certain and she crowed with delight at the thought of it, allowing herself to smile and laugh as Daenerys lay below with Drogon so that the others could climb upon his back to be taken away from danger. The sweetness Rhaena tasted was a pure delight she longed to savour. Her eyes turned towards the Night King, feeling utterly unstoppable and powerful. Kill him and the war ended. To her, it now seemed possible. Preparing to instruct Rhaegal to fly at the enemy, a piercing shriek suddenly cut through the air and the sweetness in Rhaena's mouth suddenly turned to ash as she saw a sight that would haunt her nightmares, far more than any number of undead wights and Wight Walkers.
Viserion tumbled from the sky, bursts of fire and streams of blood falling from the wound which had been opened in his neck. Rhaena did not see how it had happened, but seeing Viserion fall cut through her like a blade. "VISERION!" Her scream was as great and terrible as could possibly be imagined, ringing across mountains, caverns and gorges for miles around her as Rhaegal and Drogon took up her mourning wail as their brother crashed into the lake where his body ruptured the ice and left a scarred surface in his wake. Rhaegal flew overhead as Rhaena craned her neck and sobbed, stretching out her hand in order to try and reach Viserion. She had to go to him. She had to help him. Commanding Rhaegal to set her down, Rhaena could only think of Viserion. Rhaegal, however deeply he felt his brother's loss, would not risk his rider. He refused her order and listened to her screams of agony and fury as she attempted to force him to obey, but her body was too weak and her magic spent. Rhaegal crooned mournfully, his voice rising with the cries of his rider as he soared. Collapsing against his neck, Rhaena gripped onto Rhaegal tightly as he soared around, looking to where Drogon still stood upon the ground. Go to them, she pleaded weakly, and this time Rhaegal obeyed her. He dove down, skimming the surface of the ice with a bellow and a burst of fire at another line of wights as Rhaena watched and listened, hearing Jon shouting for Daenerys to leave. Holding back her grief, Rhaena focused on what she could save. Jon. She had to save Jon. Releasing her voice in a wordless cry, Rhaegal understood her desire and immediately turned himself over, banking hard to come back around with an awkward twist of his body as Drogon roared and Daenerys watched fearfully as Jon continued to run. The wights were still rushing towards him, however when he felt the wind suddenly crash against his back they were all flung away, Jon twisting his head to see the monstrous face of Rhaegal looking down upon him. He could not land upon the ice as it would simply cave beneath him, but Jon was already running towards him. Sheathing his sword, Jon leaped and managed to grab hold of the clawed foot which Rhaegal had extended towards him, allowing him to climb up and cling to him as Rhaena yelled to her sister. Both dragons roared, stretching their wings and beating at the air in order to rise upwards and escape. A brief flicker of something clear and long like a spear of crystal or glass caught Rhaena's eye, seeing it skim over Drogon after missing her and Rhaegal, flying into the dim grey clouds where it vanished. She looked with a dark enmity at the Night King. He was responsible for Viserion's death. She knew it instinctively. Bright violet held cold blue, both luminous like gleaming jewels. Out of spite and loathing, Rhaena ripped her bow from her shoulder and knocked an arrow, loosening it before she had even time to breathe. The arrow flew directly at the Night King who watched it approach plaintively, not moving until the last moment where his head jerked to the side and the arrow sailed harmlessly past his ear. Snarling with a writhing rage, Rhaena swore that she would end him herself for what he had done to Viserion. Even if it meant she had to burn her way through the entire wight army to reach him, she would be the one to kill him.
Unable to do anything more, Rhaena shouldered her bow and instead crawled across Rhaegal on her belly, looking down to where Jon still gripped onto him tightly. She had Rhaegal land briefly once they were a safe distance away, landing upon a mountain where she pulled Jon up to sit upon Rhaegal's back behind her before taking flight once more. Now that they were safe, Rhaena allowed herself to weep for Viserion. Jon held her, trying to hush her with gentle words and futile promises, not knowing how else to comfort her because he knew in truth, there was nothing that could. There were no words that could be spoken that could take away the grief, no promise that could be made that would heal the tear in one's heart after a loss. Jon did not understand dragons, but he understood Rhaena and how much she loved them. He imagined it would feel the same way as if he had lost Ghost. So, he held her and soon fell into silence, hoping that at the very least she would not feel alone with him holding her, burying her face into the furs of his cloak as they flew through the snow-strewn skies.