Chapter 10 – Dance of Dragons

"NO!" Daenerys screamed as she watched her oldest friend fall to the ice javelin that was meant for her. The bitter grief she felt soon turned into a burning rage when she saw the White Walker, who was responsible for Jorah's death, try to run away. She swore to herself then that she would see it burn and turn to dust even if she had to cross all Seven Hells to get to it.

"Dany, watch out!" Jon yelled out but his voice could not reach her as Drogon, fueled by its rider's emotions, widened the gap between them and dove for the running Other.

The wind felt like sharp needles against her face, but she could care less about the pain right now. All that mattered was killing this thing that had taken away such an important person from her, all that mattered was the black rage within her. Time seemed to slow down as she got closer and closer to her target, and when it was inevitable that Drogon would catch up to it, the White Walker turned around and bowed down. For a moment, Daenerys had thought that it was begging for mercy. Only when she felt the impact of something colliding with Drogon did she realize that as the ice demon was being consumed by dragonfire, it had not been bowing to her, but its king.

"DANY!" shouted Jon as the risen Viserion dove out of the cover of the storm and crashed into its eldest sibling. With both momentum and the element of surprise, the Night King was going to eliminate the biggest threat to his army here and now. The ice dragon sunk its talons into Drogon's body, tearing out both flesh and scale, causing it to roar out in pain. Drogon had tried to fight back with its breath attack but Viserion gave no openings as it continuously bit at him, trying to secure a bite to the throat that would end it all.

Daenerys was hanging on for dear life, but they were sinking at a terrifying pace and would soon crash if nothing was done about it. After an intense tangle, just as Viserion got into position to give the finishing blow, their third sibling finally caught up and broke up the fight. The three dragons spun in the air uncontrollably, like kites in a storm, and the riders focused on regaining their bearings. Drogon managed to force a hard landing on its legs, which was as safe as it was going to get for its Mother, while Viserion and Rhaegal regained their postures in the air.

The fall looked bad and for a moment, Jon felt like his heart had stopped. A picture of her lifeless corpse flashed across his mind. Her violet eyes void of the warmth and hope he loved about her. She couldn't die now; she was the future, his future. Only after meeting her did he see a life after the Long Night, she was the light at the end of this dark tunnel. If she died… Before he even realized he had given the command, Rhaegal was already flying down to its mother. When they landed, Jon jumped off as quickly as he could and ran to her side. "Dany, are you alright?!"

Daenerys felt dizzy, as if she was in a fog, and saw Jon over her as she slowly opened her lidded eyes. "You're hurt," he said, but all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She reached up to touch her head and felt something warm and wet. She looked at her hand and saw it stained in red. Was that her blood? "Jon…am I dying?"

"No," he said quickly, but she noticed the worry that was dripping in his tone, "don't even think about it, you hear me? You're okay, I've got you." While not being a maester, Jon still did the best he could as he took out his dagger and cut a piece of his cloak off to bandage the wound on her head. "Drogon…is he okay?" The black dragon gave a small cry to his mother, even though it pained him.

The Night King looked down and saw that the larger dragon would not be able to rejoin the fight anytime soon, so rather than opt into the one versus two, he chose to continue to Winterfell where his objective lied and left the grounded dragon to his minions. When Jon saw that the Night King turned his attention to Winterfell, he once again felt torn by the decision he would have to make. "You must go…" Daenerys said weakly.

"No…no, don't make do this," Jon said as he shook his head. "I'm not leaving you here."

"Everyone…will die if you don't."

"You may…" he did not dare finish his sentence as he held onto her, "I still love you." That was the truth and curse any man or god that would tell him it was wrong. He loved her. Why must the gods make him choose like this? Why always him?

Daenerys smiled as she heard the words that she has been craving for, ever since the truth regarding his parentage came out. Part of her thought that she might have hallucinated it but another part of her felt like she had breathed in a breath of new life. "Take him down and come back to me." She felt his hesitation as he refused to move, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it to let him feel the strength she still had left in her. "Make haste, Jon Snow. Your queen commands it."

It seems the call of duty was what got him to move. "I will be back, I promise," he said as he gave one last squeeze to her hand before leaving her. He could do it. He would do it, Daenerys thought as she watched him leave. They had a future together ahead of them, as a family. Until then, Daenerys Stormborn would not die.

As Jon and Rhaegal took off again, he took one last look at Daenerys before urging Rhaegal to start the pursuit. As they flew further and further away, Jon felt his guilt and hesitancy within Rhaegal for abandoning its mother, his blood and his love. "Forgive me," Jon whispered before steeling himself and shaking off the doubt. He would channel all these emotions into taking down the Night King, here and now. Rhaegal responded to his feelings and let out a threatening roar as it sped up.

The Night King turned around and smirked when he saw his pursuer. He had known when they met at Hardhome that they would meet again. Time and time again he has stood against him, even though he has witnessed his godly powers first-hand. Looking at him now, he saw some striking resemblance to the First Men he faced all those years ago. His bloodlust ignited as he recalled the memories of those battles. It has been 175 years since the last dance of dragons; this would be a worthy foe.

As Jon closed the distance between them, the Night King changed his course and took to a higher altitude. Seeing that the Great Other was no longer going for Winterfell, it was clear what he wanted; a duel where nobody could interfere. Jon's heart hammered in his chest as he tightened his grip on Rhaegal and ascended, it was now or never. He could win and end the Long Night. Or he could fall and Winterfell with him. He was not the only one who understood this; every man and woman in Winterfell prayed for his victory as they watched the two dragons rise above the clouds.

'You can do this, brother!'

'Take that son of a bitch down, Jon!'

'All the money's on you now, Snow!'

The sound of war was all around him as he chased after the Night King, but as soon as they flew past the clouds and into the night sky, all sound died. The Night King was nowhere to be found. For a moment, there was nothing except for the moon and stars above him. The world was black and white until a blue hue was cast on his face. "Fuck!" Jon cursed as he saw the blue flames coming out of the cover of the clouds below him and got Rhaegal to move away just in time.

The chase was on and the hunter turns prey.

The undead Viserion clung to its brother's tail with its blue flame breath; even with the dragon's resistance to fire, dragonfire was not something that could be ignored. Jon sympathized with Rhaegal's scalding pain but there was little he could do about it. Whether he climbed up or dived down, the Night King followed quickly; he had the initiative and he wasn't about to let go of it. To make matters worse, the fast-paced three-dimensional aerial combat made Jon constantly lose track of where his enemy was. Directing Rhaegal, tracking the Night King and trying not to fall off were difficult tasks that he desperately tried to balance; if it weren't for his experience in battle then he would have long been defeated.

After a tight turn that finally got him and Rhaegal away from the line of fire, Jon saw his opportunity to retake the initiative now that he found himself behind the Night King. Just as he was about to catch up, Viserion folded its wings and fell like an arrow that had run its course. With Rhaegal's momentum going up and Viserion's momentum going down, the two dragons flew past each other and Jon cursed for getting outmaneuvered again.

The Night King circled back around and this time, with neither riders having the advantage, the ice god came straight for him. Having been chased around for so long, neither Jon nor Rhaegal shied away from a frontal clash as the two dragons collided in the sky into a full-on melee. Both dragons tore mercilessly at each other with their claws and teeth, as the riders hung on for the turbulent flight. However, one was bleeding warm lifeblood while the other's ran cold.

"Go for the Night King, Rhaegal!" Jon yelled. The dragon listened and aimed his bite at the Great Other, nearly knocking him off as he was forced to dodge out of the way. Viserion retaliated by doing the same to Jon as his monstrous jaw snapped angrily at him. Jon was more dangling off than riding on his dragon at this point as he tried to keep his body away from Viserion's vicious bites. He risked a glance downward and realized that they were about to crash if they didn't get out of this tangle. While Jon was unsure whether or not this fall would kill the Night King, he did know for sure that this fall would kill him and Rhaegal. Even if he was okay with the gamble, he would not do so with Daenerys' child. "Dracarys!"

The Valyrian words rolled off his tongue with a Northerner's accent but the dragon understood it, nonetheless. Fire gathered in its mouth, burning as hot and bright as the sun itself, while his brother mirrored him with a flame the color of winter roses. Both unleashed their breath at the same time; pushing the other away and enveloping them along with their riders. Jon felt like he had been thrown into a furnace as he felt the flames peel at his skin and burn his flesh. The only indication that he hadn't been thrown into the deepest part of the Seven Hells was the falling sensation. But then came the sensation of numbness as he felt his senses slowly begin to fade. A familiar sensation, the same one he felt when he laid on the courtyard of Castle Black. As his vision faded, the flames engulfing him turned into pale blue flowers.

'And now I rest…amidst winter roses…'

Winter roses.

'Promise me, Ned.'

A crown of winter roses atop brown hair.

'Promise me.'

Grey eyes filled with melancholy stared at him.

His eyes.

His hair.

"Mother?"

He has only ever seen her statue down in the crypts of Winterfell and heard people's descriptions of her. A wild beauty, they called it. But seeing her in front of him now, he knew. She smiled sadly and gave him a small nod. That was all it needed to break him; he cried then, and she took him in her arms. She caressed his head as his tears spilled onto her and he felt a sense of familial love that he had no idea he needed. "I've wanted to meet you…for so long." His arms held onto her tightly as she ran her fingers soothingly through his hair down to his cheek before cupping his face. He looked up to meet her eyes and saw a look Lady Stark always gave to his siblings, a look he always wished for, a look filled with love. Out of all the times he dreamt of meeting his mother, his biggest fear was that she did not wish to meet him. The idea that his mother would see him as everyone else did, as a bastard, frightened him more than anything else. Seeing that look now, he will never have to be afraid of that ever again. His heart clenched as he looked down, "I couldn't beat him, I failed everyone." She tilted his head up again and shook her head while pointing at herself. Then she placed her hand over her heart and another over his.

'I love you, my son.'

"Mother, I…" Before he could finish, he felt himself moving away from her. "Please, no…Mother!" By the time he reached out his hand, she was already too far away. He saw her want to reach out for him too, but she had stopped herself. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she retracted her outstretched hand and placed it over her heart.

It was then that he noticed someone step up beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. The man looked at him with his deep purple eyes, pride glimmering within them, as he placed his other hand over his heart. "Fa-?"

"GET UP JON!" His eyes snapped open upon hearing Arya's voice. The winter roses were gone but the blue flames still covered him and Rhaegal, yet the heat no longer held the same bite as it did before. He remembered the pair of deep purple eyes that watched over him. 'You are Jaehaerys Targaryen, fire cannot kill a dragon.'

"Rhaegal!" Words were unnecessary as the dragon followed his command and expanded its wings as wide as possible, catching the wind and slowing their descent. The soldiers atop Winterfell's walls quickly cleared out of the way as they saw the dragon crash towards them, but Rhaegal adjusted his wings so that their fall turned into a glide. "Sōvegon!" Rhaegal took two steps on Winterfell's walls that left the stone beneath his talons damaged but not broken and took off again with a flap of its wings that created winds so strong it nearly carried people off their feet. The dragon roared as it took to the skies once more, spitting fire and diving through its own breath to cleanse itself of the blue flames. A stray ember caught Jon's hair tie and unleashed his dark brown hair, letting it flow freely in the wind like the hair of his father.

The Night King was not pleased; having thought to have bested the human when it sent his dragon crashing towards the ground. Now he rose again, coming at him with his Valyrian bastard sword drawn. Where did his fear of falling go? So be it, he thought as he materialized an ice spear in his hand, he would meet the human's challenge head-on. As the distance between them shrunk, he met his eyes once more and felt a strange feeling in his chest. Was this excitement…or was it fear?

Arya watched as the inevitable clash approached, but to her surprise, it never did. Rhaegal ascended out of the way and what happened next took her breath away. The dragon did a loop through the air that had Jon nearly hanging upside down. Its jade-green wings gracefully flowed through the night sky. She had never seen anything so beautiful and awe-inspiring. Only then did she realize why history referred to it as the Dance of Dragons. Jon was now positioned behind the Night King, attacking him from above. The dance was over, and the soldiers cheered as the undead dragon fell from the sky.

When Bran opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the room at the Red Keep. Once again, he had made irreversible changes to the past. A red mark on the history book that will bleed onto the next page. 'The past is already written. The ink is dry.' He remembered the words of the last Three-Eyed Raven, the man who was once Brynden Rivers. It was meant to happen, just as with Hodor. He had seen it, the victory for mankind. The answers lied in the past and there was only one way to it, this was a necessary sacrifice for the achievement of the greater good. Bran did not dwell on it for long, the responsibility of the Three-Eyed Raven was to preserve the world, and he will do it no matter how much blood must flow. 'Even the blood of your own family?' He could not answer that question. 'You are not ready. Even now, after all that you've seen.'

"Brandon Stark." The sound of his name shook him out of his thoughts as he thought he had been spotted. But as he looked around, he saw that it was not him that has been called on but a man with a long face, brown hair and grey eyes that was sitting against a weirwood tree. "With this, it will be done," said the man as a few Children of the Forest approached him.

"You don't have to do this," said one of the Children which Bran recognized as Leaf. "They call you the Last Hero but that does not mean you have to bear the burden alone."

"Enough," said Brandon as he put his hand up to signal that he had no interest in reconsidering. A gust of freezing winter wind drew their attention to the clearing in the woods and out of the shadow of the trees came the Night King. Bran could feel that he was weakened but the Night King let none of it show in his poise and posture as he approached them with footsteps that left no trail on the snow he walked on. Although they looked tense, the Stark man and the Children were not alarmed by his entrance. The Children stood up, but the Stark man did not, which earned him a look of disdain from their new companion. "Curtesy from our last battle," said the Stark as he showed the ugly scar on his legs that left him a cripple. The Great Other looked to have accepted the excuse but the look of hatred did not disappear from his eyes.

The Children were the first to move as they stood between the Night King and Brandon Stark. "By the Old Gods beyond counting as our witnesses, let the Pact be upheld by both sides." The two extended their hands and were both cut by a piece of dragonglass. As the blood trickled down from their hands onto the ground, the Children of the Forest muttered a prayer that was in a language Bran did not understand before releasing their hands. "The oath has been sealed in blood, it is complete."

With that said, the Night King turned his back to them and began to slowly raise his hands. There was a sudden large jolt followed by more strong shaking that was so violent that the Children had a hard time remaining standing. Dark clouds gathered above them and the leaves of the weirwood trees swayed ominously. Above the tree line, a structure made of ice, stone, and earth rose into the sky, higher than any structure Brandon has ever seen. It stretched on for so long that he thought it may have even connected the two ends of the sea. When the Wall was complete, it had completely blotted out the sun from view and the shadow it cast had swallowed up the land around them. Brandon's heart beat widely in his chest as he was reminded what kind of being they were facing.

The Night King turned around and met Brandon Stark's eyes. 'One last show of his power.' Having given his non-verbal warning, the Night King left as quickly as he came, leaving the human and the Children to reflect on what they just agreed to. "What now?" Leaf asked shakily once the Night King was out of view.

"You must reinforce it with your magic. If he can build it, then he can tear it down just as easily," said Brandon as he tried to calm his breathing.

"What about you?"

"I will gather an order of men who will fortify the Wall and serve as watchmen, should they ever decide to come back. The Night's Watch, a shield that will guard against the Long Night."

"And the sacrifices…?"

Brandon sighed. "Criminals will be given a chance to take the Black to correct their ways and regain their honor. If they show no such improvement, then…" He took a deep breath before continuing. "It will also be where I take my Other bride with whom I will father children named Stark. They will rule Winterfell and serve as a reminder of our oath."

"I guess you will be the 1st Lord Commander of the Night's Watch then."

"No, not the first. In honor of the twelve brothers that fought with me and died, I will be the 13th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."

A chill ran down Bran's back as he listened to the founder of his house, Brandon 'The Builder.' '13th… That means…' The scene of the Night's King death flashed before his eyes; bleeding in the snow as he crawled toward his wife. The last words that left his mouth as he watched the sacred pact being broken were…winter is coming.

*Author's Note: Apologies for the delay, things got busy (and they still are) but I'm going to try and cut some time out of my schedule to write from now on. This story still has a place in my heart and I'm not ready to abandon it.

GulfYankee23: Yeah I agree that Sansa's reaction towards Dany was unwarranted for how much help they were getting and given Dany's history of (mostly) good deeds in Essos. Reviews are by far the thing that motivates me the most so I'm always excited to answer the reviews of my readers. I'm happy you are enjoying the content so far and sorry for not updating during Thanksgiving. I hope to pick it back up now and see your reviews once more.