Visenya...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Visenya had taken notice that the Night King was no longer on the undead Viserion and that was, perhaps, the only good thing in that damn battle. Like she had suggested during the War Meeting, she had 'smacked down' their opponent and now she prayed someone would manage to end him soon.
However, that did not mean she had no troubles of her own. On the contrary, she had a rather big one.
The attack had pissed off Viserion, who now followed his most primal instincts; the ones of survival. His instincts were to fight the one that harmed him and take down the one that dared to challenge him in the air, no matter whether they shared a past or had anything in common.
Rhaegal was not gravely injured and kept doing his best to keep a distance from his undead brother while remaining quite high in the air. The winds were stronger and colder but both, he and his rider kept going.
They knew they had to keep the dragon away from the soldiers, the castle and the Night King. Now, whether they would manage to take him down fully; remained to be seen.
What mattered at the moment was to stay afloat but that was a rather tough challenge on its own.
She held on to the green scales of Rhaegal as the dragon dived down, avoiding the neon blue flames of the undead Viserion. The sudden drop made her feel her stomach climbing up but eventually, the feeling stopped as the green dragon flew in a straight line.
Visenya thought for a moment, a plan coming into her mind. She had never fought on top of a dragon before but she had to try. She could only do a little just by riding but maybe she could help by doing more.
After all, the undead Dragon was no different than the skeletons brought back to life by the Night King. This meant that a good shot could kill him and it would allow her to go lower and help the others, something telling her that they truly needed her.
She suspected that even undead, usual arrows would not do much work; even if the tip was made of dragonglass. Her only weapon left was Dragon Heart, although how she would manage to use it against Viserion...she needed to figure it out.
"Rhaegal" She called the Dragon's name. "High. High and be ready to fight...trust me on this..." she said, feeling the need to explain herself to the animal that would take most of the attacks for her; and would also be the reason she would survive.
A few clicking noises left his mouth and the Dragoness nodded her head in appreciation, before tightening the muscles of her legs. She held tightly as Rhaegal flapped his wings and started to head higher and higher.
Even Storms had a point where they stared and all she had to do, was to fly above it and pull Viserion along. Without the wind as an obstacle, she prayed that despite the darkness; she would have a better chance at facing him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daenerys...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Mother of Dragons stayed on top of her beast, staring with wide eyes at the sight beneath her. She stared in silence as the dead soldiers came up to life and were now fighting for the opposing team.
Now, the undead truly surpassed the living and she knew if she did not act quickly; they would lose fast.
"Low, Drogon" she ordered her injured Dragon, who seemed capable of still flying and fighting.
He obeyed, although there was a small struggle to fight the winds that were sometimes against them. His powerful jaws opened and streams of fire were released nonstop, trying to burn as many undead as possible.
However, the army was too big and the animal was injured and tired. Breaks had to be taken mid-flight and Daenerys would never see how risky and wrong her move to fly low was... until it was too late.
For all it started when some of the undead ones stretched and tried to harm her, recognising her as a big threat. Of course, it was not her that they managed to grab but the scales of her dragon.
The animal roared and breathed fire on them, trying to get them off him but he was flying too low and they were too many of them. Slowly, more and more would grab their chances and their weight would only cause him more difficulty in flying; especially with his fresh injuries that already slowed him down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jaime & Brienne...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Kingslayer almost froze on the spot upon seeing the dead slowly coming back to life. He backed up subconsciously, his back finding Brienne; who had done the same. Yet, none looked at one another as their attention was focused on the rising corpses in front of them.
Fallen soldiers and comrades started to get up, haunting bright blue eyes landing on them while their combined screeches almost made their ears bleed.
Jaime recognised some of the undead faces, being Lannister soldiers that had been for years in the service of his parents; who had perished by his side not so long ago. Now they were back, mindless puppets that he would have to kill with his sword; and pray they would take the Night King soon.
Brienne was equally shocked, even terrified. The previous undead ones were people she did not know but now, familiar faces stared at her. She felt guilt, knowing their souls did not rest and that they died while fighting by her side.
Her grip on her sword tightened, seeing how quickly the tables turned and now the enemy was surpassing them in numbers. Before, she truly thought they had a chance but that spark of hope was shrinking with each dead person that was brought back to life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The experience and feelings of shock, guilt and fear were shared amongst everyone. From the Dothraki to the Unsullied and even the Dornish residing within the castle, they all shared the same three feelings.
Unlike the dead, the living were getting tired; many were injured and the cold was not helping their situation.
Daenerys' help played a role in fixing the uneven odds but they still had a lot of work to do, lots of fighting to take place and many were not sure for how long they could remain standing.
The only one who seemed to have the energy to fight was Ser Barristan, even when Ser Will stood in his way and let out an animalistic screech. The old knight stared silently at his undead friend but kept his weapon ready, with only one thought in mind.
I will take you down and I will free you from his control, old friend.
His thoughts, though, were also on the two Targaryens. There was no sign of Visenya but Daenerys was flying too low, a sign that did not settle well with him. Yet despite his latest opponent or the number of undead that stood in his way; he was ready to make a path through them if Daenerys truly needed him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Loras, Kevan, Tywin & Trystan...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The White Walker was a formidable opponent, more powerful and skilled. Considering the undead that kept assisting him, it was one of the toughest battles for the two heirs. More than once did they feel the frozen weapons marking their armour or their flesh, thankfully no wound too serious.
In the end, though, their teamwork prevailed; although one might wonder if divine luck had also played a part in it.
For while Loras kept the White Walker busy, Trystan found an opening and he did not hesitate in taking it. This opportunity quickly bore fruits for he managed to bring Dark Sister and end their opponent with one single clean strike.
With him dying, many of the undead around them but also on the battlefield fell down and stopped moving; getting self-destroyed now that their maker had perished. It was a good sign for many and while some were not sure how it happened, they did not care.
It helped them in this tough battle, it kept the odds in their favour and even offered small moments for them to catch their breath.
Panting heavily, the Half Lion lowered his sword and turned to look at Loras with the faintest of smiles. The Knight of Roses was leaning on his sword, equally out of breath but proud that his friend had done it.
Wounds decorated their bodies, their armours bearing marks but none were critically injured. Loras had a rather nasty cut on his non-dominant arm but the cold had helped the blood to stop flowing and the adrenaline rushing through his veins helped him continue.
Just when they thought they were making a difference and could perhaps take down all the undead that had infiltrated through the gates and from above the walls, the dead beneath them started to twitch and slowly rise.
Bodies and bones bent unnaturally, and bright blue eyes multiplied and stared right into their souls. It was not long before one by one started to rise, lifting their fallen weapons or having new ones made of ice.
"What is going on?" Loras asked as he tried to retreat but had to change plans, for there were resurrected undead right behind him.
"The Night King is going on" Trystan commented and found his back touching Loras'.
He looked as the number of enemies was increasing, now every dead soldier that not so long ago fought by their side; was their enemy.
Before they seemed that they were winning. Now, it felt as if they had already lost.
Shaking his head a few times, he silenced all his thoughts and fixed his grip on his sword. Now it was not the time for any doubts and second thoughts. Now, it was time for him to focus on the battle and make sure no undead would harm or lethally injure him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not that far away from them, Kevan and Tywin had similar thoughts. While the younger of the two brothers had more self-doubts, the older merely glared. They had to retreat, to reduce the sides they could be attacked but that did not mean they had it easy.
There was no true care in Tywin's eyes whether his opponents were now former soldiers of his or not. He had made a mental vow to survive this battle for Visenya and he could take down every single undead soldier if he had to.
Ironically, Oberyn and Obara had approached them; more like retreated in order to avoid being right in the middle of the undead army. Now closer to the two Lions, they knew they had no choice but to work together.
The yard was filled with undead and there were not a lot of places for them to go. Even the Unsullied and the Dornish Spears had troubles of their own, for it was their brothers and comrades they had now to face.
The numbers of the enemy far surpassed theirs but they knew they had to fight. It was in that case, that some were thankful the undefended ones had been hidden and Bran had been secured.
Because of how things had changed, it was only expected that many undead ones would manage to escape their blades and make their way either inside or towards the Weirwood tree.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arya, Sansa & Tyrion...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The screeching sounds continued and somehow, they all knew the undead was reaching them.
Sansa had to try and calm down everyone else, especially the ladies and children, who had started to panic. No one could blame them for reacting that way and it was harder for them to remain calm.
Even Tyrion tried his best and while his attempts could be better, his help was appreciated by Sansa. From time to time they would look at their guards, who stood ready and did not seem to be phased by the sounds of the incoming doom.
The narrow paths offered some certainty and their discipline played a role as well, something that the young Direwolf admired.
However, it was not long after that she realized something was wrong. She had this gut feeling that something was not right, something was amiss...
She was not sure until her eyes scanned the people with her and realized that one single person was missing.
"Arya? Where is Arya?!" she asked, panic slowly forming within her chest.
Tyrion looked around and even at the frightened civilians but none truly had an answer. The little wolf had literally vanished without a trace and that was a worrying thing.
"What do you mean you do not know?" he asked the Dornish, who stood at their place. "You are guards, she would have passed through you if she went anywhere"
Yet, even the Southern men did not truly know how it happened. They were on guard but somehow, the Direwolf had managed to sneak past them and if Sansa had not pointed it out; she doubted anyone would take notice.
Tyrion felt annoyed by them, ready to somehow smack them; if of course they did the kind thing and bent their knees so he could reach them. However, he did not for the loud screeching noises of the undead were suddenly closer to them...closer than before.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unknown to them, Arya had indeed sneaked past the guards. With the training she had in Braavos and the dim light offered in those tunnels, it was not hard for her.
She did not care what her sister was saying. She knew she needed to be out there, to help Jon and Bran. She moved through the tunnels, having already memorized them. Yet, more than once she had to change direction when she heard the screeches of the undead becoming louder.
She was not sure what was going but she suspected it would not be long before the undead would reach the tunnels and the crypts. She had her dagger ready in one hand, willing to take down any skeleton that stood in her way as she made her way towards the surface.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bran, Theon, Leaf & Jon...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While the fight was taking place, Bran was using his abilities to observe everything through the eyes of some ravens. Despite the blizzard, he got glimpses of the battle whether the one on the ground or the one on the sky.
Eventually, he focused on the present and looked at those around him.
Leaf and her people stood close by, their little bombs ready to be used while Jon and Theon were not that far away. They would be the ones guarding him because somehow Jon knew it was his destiny to face the Night King.
Theon had volunteered to stay, to make up for the troubles he caused and to atone himself for betraying his family; his true family even though they were not his blood. Jon was glad to have him by his side, a sense of irony that a Greyjoy stood next to a Stark; just as it had been all those years ago.
"He is on the ground...and he is coming here..." Bran suddenly said.
This made the Children of the Forest tense and exchange looks, some talking in a hushed tone in their own language. Only Leaf remained silent, eyes always locked at the only entrance to the Godswood; somehow knowing and sensing that their enemy was far closer.
Jon and Theon placed their hands on the handles of their blades, ready to pull them and use them to take down the Night King. Jon had a Valyrian Steel Sword and Theon had a Dragonglass one but both were willing to fight until the end if it meant killing their enemy.
At last, after waiting in silence for some time; the first undead skeletons burst through the doors with their master right behind them. The skeletons wore armour or furs, a sign that they were freshly resurrected northerners and free folk; a sign that Jon would not forget soon.
They drew their swords and stood in position, ready to fight. Leaf and her people spread around them, ready to take down the undead and allow the two men to fight the Night King.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
[A/N] - I know, I know...I keep leaving you with cliffhangers. I apologise for that but I do not have enough time to write more than one chapter with how tired works leave me.
However, I do hope despite my tiredness; the chapters remain as good as the previous ones. Especially since there are so many POVs I need to keep in mind and do justice, giving at least even a small moment in this battle.
Stay tuned because big things are coming up 🤭