Hers Is The Fury

Delirium & Betrayal?

 [King's Landing]

Jon Snow knew that time was running out. The Night King's army was getting stronger, and growing larger. If he didn't find and kill the Night King soon, all of Westeros would be consumed by darkness and ice.

With a determined expression on his face, Jon set off into the crowded streets of King's Landing, his sword at the ready. He had heard rumors that the Night King might be hiding in one of the city's many temples or palaces, so he made his way towards the heart of the Red Keep.

As he ran through the narrow alleys and bustling marketplaces, Jon could feel the weight of his mission heavy on his shoulders. Every step he took brought him closer to his goal, but also closer to danger. The streets were filled with wights, mindless undead creatures that served only the Night King. They lunged at Jon with their jagged teeth and claws, but he fought them off with ease, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision.

Despite the chaos around him, Jon remained focused on his task. He knew that the fate of the realm hung in the balance. He pushed aside the screams and cries of the terrified soldiers, his eyes fixed on the horizon, searching for any sign of the Night King.

As he continued to fight his way through the city, Jon heard a loud roar in the distance. It was his dragon, Rhaegal, and Daenerys' dragon, Drogon, engaged in battle with the undead Viserion. He could see them soaring through the sky, their huge forms silhouetted against the setting sun. For a moment, he was caught up in the spectacle, marveling at the sight of their aerial combat.

Then, something went wrong. Drogon, carrying Daenerys, seemed to stumble, and Viserion struck him with its massive, ice-encrusted wing. The blow sent Drogon spiraling out of control, crashing into a nearby tower.

Horrified, Jon broke off from his pursuit of the Night King and raced toward the crash site. The city was filled with panic and confusion as people ran in all directions, trying to avoid the falling debris. As he reached the tower, he could see Drogon lying still, his body rising and falling as he struggled to breathe.

"Daenerys!" Jon shouted, rushing over to her side. She was unconscious, her face pale and bloodied. Her arm was deeply slashed, and blood was pooling beneath her. "Dany, stay with me," he pleaded, cradling her head in his lap.

He glanced around frantically, looking for anything that could help them. The city was still under siege, wights closing in on them from all sides. Jon swallowed hard and forced himself to focus. "We need to get her out of here," he muttered to himself, his voice shaking.

He carefully lifted Dany into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her breath was ragged and shallow, and her skin felt cold and clammy. He knew he had to get her to safety, and fast. With Drogon down, that meant finding someplace where they could fight off the Night King and fast.

As he made his way through the streets, dodging wights and debris, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Daenerys kept muttering to herself, her eyes now wide and frightened, accusing him of things he couldn't quite make out. It was clear that she was delirious from the pain and shock. The deep cut on her arm oozed blood, and Jon knew that they needed to find shelter soon.

As he went to turn a corner, he saw a sea of wights there was no way he could cut through while carrying Daenerys.

Frantically looking around, he found a dilapidated abandoned building.

With no other choice, he kicked in the door and rushed up the steps. On the second floor, there was a bed which he placed her on. But, they were still exposed. The roof of the building was missing.

Jon hurried to a nearby window and looked out. The army of the dead was still swarming below them, but he didn't see the Night King anywhere. Perhaps he'd lost track of him in the confusion. He turned his attention back to Daenerys, who was still unconscious.