The stress had really begun to take a toll on her as she dismounted Leirion upon shaky legs, her knees knocking as they barely held her up. Three things she had cared about, she had lost today. First Jon, who only recently she had found out was her brother; the second was Aegon, who had grown to be like her left arm; and finally, Viserion, her little baby. She'd aged ten years just on the flight back to the wall, relief filling her as she saw the little castle that ran the length of the ice.
Leirion settled down, the others climbing down as the small gate rose up, a small group of men in dark cloaks running out. Her boots found the ice, her hand falling to Jorah's as he held on, guiding her. The group watched with hesitant eyes as she buckled, Jorah just catching her in time. "You need to rest." He told her, shaking his head.
How could she rest after that? How could she leave them there? Perhaps she should go back. Rhae went to turn, her legs buckling again as Jorah shook his head, concern filling him at the sight. "I can't, I need to..." Rhaenar wobbled. Maybe she couldn't go back, but she needed to see if they could return. It would at least give her something to focus on, other than... Se didn't want to think it, but the flash of the speared neck, the hot blood splashing her face. Rhae shivered. "I need to go up to the wall." She huffed out, eyes unfocusing on the distance as Leirion took to the air once more, leaving her on the snowy ground. "Please..." Rhae begged him.
"Your face, you're covered..." They were all covered in splashes of red; some more like splodges of dark brown against the dark furs and leather but upon her own white fur, it still held the vivid colour.
She hummed, the indigo dragging to look away. "I can't... I need to see them come back." Jorah nodded, obliging as he swooped her from the ice, easing the strain on her body as he took her up into his arms.
"How long have you been like this?" He asked, wondering where the fire had gone from inside of her and where the tiredness had settle within her features.
Rhae shook her head, leaning into his chest as sleep threatened her. "Not long." A week at most if she was lying to herself; but the slow bubble of tiredness had sat within her since the fighting pits, since the need to prove herself to everyone but herself.
"Do you not think you need rest? Look at you." He urged, but Rhaenar didn't want to listen. She wanted to get up there, to see them come back. How could she have just left them there? But Jorah couldn't see the struggle, the inner fight as indigo fought against closed lids. He only saw the gauntness of her features, the dark bags and thin cheeks; her skin was pale, almost paper thin with smudges of blood. Rhaenar must have flown all night to get there, but those dark circles were more than a night of no sleep.
Her chest tightened, her head shaking. "If you aren't going to take me there, I'll make my way up there myself." She affirmed, her eyes hard. Jorah sighed but nodded his head; he couldn't go against her, even if it was for her health.
"You're weak, I've haven't seen you this way since Vaes Dothrak all those years ago." And she was, once the adrenaline had passed through her, and everything came rushing back. Rhae had tired herself out, her body close to giving up.
"I'll be fine once we rest, but the time to rest isn't now." Her heart continued to pound as he was led in, the others taking charge. "You can set me down Jorah, I'll be okay." But Rhaenar wasn't sure. Her legs were wavy, her chest hurting, and her mind squeezing at the thought of Viserion.
Jorah's eyes met hers, Rhaenar nodding again before he gently let her down, her feet touching at the ice before settling. Her hands clenched, her legs moving to take the first step. She couldn't appear weak, not in front of these people.
The Bushy Beard stepped forward as they were approaching the tunnel, his blue eyes shifting as he looked at the Dragon Princess. "Jon knows what he's doing, just wait." His voice was gruff, low as he turned back slightly, a manic smile upon his lips. "The Night King doesn't have anything on the little Crow."
Their eyes met. "Your name, Sir?"
"Sir?" He almost spat in shock, his brows twisting as he laughed. "I'm no Sir, I am Tormund Giantsbane." Jon's Free Folk friend.
Rhaenar smiled at his exuberance, her indigo sparkling. "I didn't mean to offend, forgive me." He shot her another funny look, Rhaenar's smile growing as she glanced at Jorah who nodded. "Why do you call Jon Little Crow?"
"Because he is little." She supposed so as she giggled. Compared to this Tormund, she supposed he was little. "And he was of the Night's Watch." He must have known Jon for a long time if he called him Crow, from what she could remember Jon had left that more than a year ago. "And it's fun, have you seen him surrounded by men, he has to stand on his tiptoes just to meet their eyes?" She chuckled gently, sadness still clinging to her tone.
"You're best friends then?" Rhaenar mused.
He nodded. "Almost like brothers if he wasn't a southerner." Her brow raised, a southerner? Did Jon know? Why else would Tormund call him a southerner?
"A Southerner?" She asked softly, confused.
He nodded. "South of the Wall. The real North is what lies beyond it." Oh, Rhaenar thought; nodding. "Jon knows the true North. That's why I'm confident he'll come back." She admired the hope Tormund had, but she wasn't as sure. There were so many bodies, so many of those things there. The indigo darted down as they threatened to well up, her hand darting to her arms as she rubbed them. "I don't know much about the other one, but he looked determined."
"Aegon is strong." Rhae dismissed. She didn't want to tempt the Gods, over whoever watched them.
Tormund stopped in his stride, but nodded to her. "I am sorry about your dragon, he's a beautiful beast." Rhae's lip jerked in a smile, desperate not to think about it. "I didn't know the Night King could do such a thing; I didn't think they would have those kinds of weapons."
"It just makes them more dangerous when we do face them." The pair of them broke out into the other side, Rhaenar turning back to Ser Jorah. Stairs leading all the way up sat behind her, a life just beside it to make the trek up there a little easier. "Do you mind taking me up?" She asked, his head shaking before she nodded, looking back at Tormund. "Will you be joining us in King's Landing? Or will you be staying here?"
He smiled. "This is as far south as I'm going, and someone needs to be here when the Dead come marching."
She liked his warmth, his accent as he grinned. It was strange to think of a broody Jon being friends with someone vibrant. "I hope we see each other again, on the same side still." The indigo flickered up to the cut that sat on the side of his head, the blood dried but it must hurt. "Do you want one of my healers to see to that?" She asked him.
Tormund was confused, his hand raising to where she looked before touching; beneath callous fingertips he could feel it break, raising from the skin as he brushed them across. A little cut; the Dragon Princess was worried about a little cut. "It'll take more than a wight to take me down." He teased before turning away, rejoining the scarred man and Lord Light. She bit her lip, frowning slightly as they disappeared, taking the wight they had fought so hard to get. Viserion died for this; Jon and Aegon still missing because of this. Had this not been Tyrion's plan? And had she not gone through with it?
She should have listened to Ser Barristan. "I made a mistake didn't I?" Rhae muttered so gently, her head turning slightly as their eyes met; her hand finding the bannister.
"I don't think you made a mistake, Khaleesi." Jorah had to tread carefully; not because she would lash out, but more for how hurt he knew she was feeling. "You did the right thing; if you hadn't gone at all, you would have regretted it more."
That was true. She would have; especially after she had found out what she had. "But you once told me Dragons were worth more than anything, and I've just lost my child." Dragon eggs weren't easy to come across, she wasn't even entirely sure how they had hatched in the first place. All Rhaenar knew was that her children were the first the world had seen in centuries, and they were priceless to her. "How could I let him down like that?"
"You didn't know what you were going into, no one did. The only one who had a clue to what we would find in that valley were those that had seen them. Don't blame yourself for this, Rhae; we didn't know." And that was half the battle. They had to know, they had to stop underestimating their enemies, and the Night King was now an enemy.
"He's terrifying." She admitted, coming to a step between two staircases; the wind whistling around them as she gazed out. Dark waters lapped at snow covered ground, the weather only adding to the dismal nature of the North. "I looked into his eyes, and I'd never felt fear like it." Jorah nodded, swallowing himself as images of dead men crossed his mind; of rotting flesh, and moving bone, of mindlessly being controlled by this one King. "I'm scared of when we'll have to fight for our lives, of how many of those things we'll face."
Jorah watched as she shivered, of the indigo frozen in fear. "There is no use thinking of them now; what happened today could have slowed them down in marching south." She wasn't sure, but she nodded. "Don't worry yourself with this, we still have yet to go to King's Landing - and stepping through those gates will face us with death faster than these deadmen will."
Rhaenar had forgotten almost entirely of the meeting in the south. She'd been so consumed by wights and family, she'd forgotten about Cersei. "If we make it through this Jorah the Andal, it'll be a miracle."
He smirked as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "That it may be, Khaleesi." Taking his hand, they continued stepping higher up the tall expanse of the wall; the steps like hell on their legs as their muscles protested at the action. Rhaenar's lungs heaved as they reached the last set, hands clutching her thighs as she wheezed in the air, her lungs threatening to upset her stomach as a redness rushed to her cheeks.
Jorah in no better position beside her as he grimaced, hand fumbling for the wood as he pulled himself up the last step. "You could have taken a dragon up, it would have been faster." He choked out, desperate for a drink. The air was thinner here, the lack of warmth only heightening as they were thrusted back into the open coldness; the wind whipping in from all angles.
She glared at him as she straightened herself, spotting a little balcony clinging to the top of the ice, overlooking the space below them. Rhaenar made her way to it; her eyes staring out. She could see for miles - or at least as far as the clouds would allow her, the darkness from the lack of sunlight dimming the way of the tall snow covered trees. Her shoulders raised as she breathed in deeply, her back straightening as a hand delicately reached out, resting on the wood.
Rhaenar could see if they could make it back now, if two little bodies were weaving amongst the trees or if the dead were following after them. She pleaded that Jorah was right, that they slowed from the assault for a least a little while. They were outnumbered, and without backup; and she was sure that the Night King could easily whip out another ice spear - especially when he had tried to hit Leirion.
Her dragons had proved more vulnerable than she thought; their armour not doing enough for them - she'd need to speak to Harry, see what he would suggest. Even if it was the smallest change to be able to protect them, it would be worth it.
But Rhaenar waited, her face stormy as her eyes watched the tree line. She needed them to come back; not only because she had grown a spot for them, but because she had to tell them what she knew - so they could make an informed decision together on if they should tell the Kingdom or not. Rhaenar would have to deal with the fallout, but she just hoped that Oberyn would understand - and that Aegon would too.
After all, she had come to deeply appreciate them, rely on their council when given; and Oberyn especially hadn't let her down. He'd been so consumed by vengeance for years for those that had hurt his sister, she hoped that it didn't burn inside him still.
The North gave her time to think, to clear her head of everything. Of the pain that radiated inside of her from her loss of Viserion, to the fatigue her body had placed upon her by stress. The cold that burned at her nose, and stung at her eyes only drawing her to think of the pair; of the seconds that seemed to tick by without their silhouettes darting between one line of trees to the next.
Rhae didn't know how long she had stood there; the dragons soaring the skies as they cried out for Viserion; to the dimming of the sky above her. It was beginning to return to night fall, the sun chasing far to the west as it threatened to dip behind the horizon. Her fingers clenched, her jaw growing tight. "It's time to go, Your Grace." Jorah called out from behind her, her eyes not shifting from the tree line.
"Just a moment longer." He nodded, taking a step back again; to wait by her side diligently. "Please." Rhae whispered so softly, closing her eyes; the wind carrying the words with it. "Please bring them back to me." The indigo gently flickered back open, Leirion soaring in front of her but an empty tree line.
They weren't coming back, they were dead. She resigned herself, her shoulders dropping as she turned away, taking a step in Jorah's direction. A loud horn broke through the silence, the fear striking her still. Did that mean an invasion? Jorah's hand rose, keeping her still as he moved forward, his eyes peering over the edge.
Rhae waited patiently, but he hadn't cried out; he hadn't forced her to move back or to get down. He continued to stand there. Growing confused, Rhaenar joined him, her own eyes peering over the edge. There breaking just out of the tree line was a dark silhouette, the mass unclear from here as it bundled towards the wall. Was that part of the dead?
The horn blew again, the wall jittering beneath her feet as the gate raised. It couldn't be an invasion if they were opening the gate, which meant it had to be a person. Hope filled her at the possibility of Aegon and Jon returning, but she didn't want to fill herself with it fully in case it was something as simple as just a raider from the Night's Watch. "Riders approaching!" A voice shouted out.
It was them.