Limerence ||♞|| Viserys Targaryen

xxx) Viserys

The prince flinched a little bit.

"They lit fire on the swords. The Dothrakis are ready to kill."

"Do you see the dead?"

"Yes." He let out a shaky breath.
"They're approaching. I say a mile, at quite a quick pace too."

Even from distance, he could feel the pressure radiating from the army opposite them.

As the head of the army appeared, he gasped.

Viserys didn't expect to meet this so soon.

His namesake.

"They brought Viserion, too."

"Vise what?" She almost yelled.

He coughed.

"I mean, they brought a dragon."

"Well I didn't know they had one." Amarys frowned.

"They didn't." He explained, quite reluctantly.

"It was Dany's. The Night's King killed it a few times ago, I guess he made it his minion."

"Excellent." She grunted.
"Now we didn't only fight an army of dangerous, fearless and dead warriors. We have to go against the whole ass dragon who breaths fire and can do more damage than half of the army does."

"You are being too scared."

"With a good excuse to be!" She snapped, then exhales deeply.

"Whatever. All I can do is follow your sister and mine, anyways."

"Oh," He suddenly exclaimed.
"Oh, shit."

"What is it?" She raised her brows.

"There's giants, too."

"Great, just when I thought it couldn't get any worse."

"You shouldn't be thinking at all, cousin." He chuckled.

She growled lowly back.

"Amarys." Bran called, making her crouch down and kneel beside him.

"I'm going." He said, plain and simple.
"Would you hold my hand?"

She smiled and took his hand into hers.

"Of course."

Viserys twisted his lips as his brows raised, watching the interaction with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

Bran's eyes goes white.

Looks like his cousin had formed a 'close' relationship with the Stark boy.

♝

"Amarys." He called his distant relative.
"They're getting into the wall. Be prepared."

"How come?" She frowned, but took her daggers out anyway. Her hand is still entwined with that of the boy beside her.

"They threw themselves into the fire, making a bridge. They're now trying to climb the wall."

"And where are you going?" Amarys shouted as he pushed Zaephyr's horns forward. The dragon spread it's wings and ready to fly.

He gave her a quick, short, but understandable at instant explaination.

"To burn them."

Viserys swore under his breath as he rode his dragon out to the wall of Winterfell.

Who would think the dead would broke the fire barrier around the castle this fast.

He circled down to the snow field, burning wights along the way.

He had tried to lit up the wooden barriers that lies around the castle again, but it is already broken.

"Want some help, Mormont?" He asked his sister's most trusted man.

"Well maybe go burn something on the East." The man answered, cutting down another two icy blue-eyed enemy.

"And my sister? And Jon too?"

"She's after the Night's King. He's dueling with Viserion."

At the news that his family are still alive, he flew to the other side of Winterfell and cleaned the wights on the snow field off in a few minutes.

He came back to the gates only to see that the giant wight had destroy it.

"Gods, it's going to be disastrous." Viserys grinded his teeth and swiftly rode to the garden.

"Cousin!" He shouted to her.
"The walls are broken. If Daenerys lost her grip on the Night's King, he will came to you in a short time."

Amarys turned to him, unusually calm and collected. Her blue eyes are sharp and determined as she nodded to him.

They exchanged their conversation through gazes.

If that wight king came in the garden, he couldn't help her anymore. Zaephyr's fire would burn all of them. It's too dangerous to go wild.

And it seems she had already know.

"I understand." She replied, her tone unreadable.
"Thank you, cousin."

Her eyes met his, and his heart sanked.

Will he really leave her to die?

Even though they're not close, but she really made him felt she is a part of his family.

After all these years her ancestors had tried to avoid dying in Westeros, would she leave her life here in the land that despise her name?

"Fret not." She said, as if she could read his minds from four feet up the ground.
"This is my choice."

He licked his dried lips, trying to respond.

But she had said first,

"Till morning comes, Viserys."

Viserys let his mouth agape, finding a proper words, but ended up replying the same simple, but meaningful sentence.

"Till morning comes, Amarys."

And he left with a heavy heart.

The Targaryen prince rode away and defend the castle from the army. The situation out of the wall had only one description,

Madness.

He saw Freya, swinging her sword and pierce it through multiple wights at a time. Her cousin, Aemys is with her, as did some of the Gryffonsdale soldiers.

Then there's Tormund Giantsbane, with his men and women from beyond the wall, fighting in the name of their friend and ally, Jon Snow.

The true heir to the throne of Westeros, Jon, is on Rhaegal, a dragon named after his father who he never knew of. He drew out his sword and lunged himself forward to the Night's King, now back on his wight dragon Viserion.

He caught a glimpse of Daenerys in her white coat mounting on Drogon, surrounded by loyal Dothraki.

She had company, at least.

Letting out a long breath that became a white faint steam in the cold air, he turned his head to the wight troops on ground.

"Zaephyr," Viserys calmed the drumbeat of his heart down as his breath gets deeper and deeper.

"Dracarys."