Battle Of The Long Lake

Aerion's eyes lit up as three Collapsing Dragons formed in the sky, merging with each other. The Night King turned away from him to look at the wonder in the sky… then glancing at the mystical red half-crown floating atop his head.

"I see…"

Aerion didn't give him time to admire the flames, using Aeromancy to propel him straight into the three-headed Collapsing Dragon. The timing was almost perfect as the two forces met in the middle of the air, creating an explosion that burned everything near its radius. Aerion was able to break his restraints but the upcoming explosion stopped him from going far.

Once the Collapsing Dragon had collided with the Night King, its remnants burned through a majority of the Others who had gathered around. Those who lived had been shielded by their King. Even the ice cold weather of the Frostfangs was hotter than a Dornish desert while the flames persisted. For a moment, Aerion had hope that the battle against the Night King was won…

But it was not.

The Night King had withstood the flames, although all of his body was burnt and he looked more red than blue. Aerion's eyes widened as he watched him still walking.

"That… is the limit of your magic." The Night King remarked. "I've seen it before with the Dothraki horde you massacred with wind magic… and you know what comes after, don't you? A long sleep… let me tell you what I'll do in that time. I'll carve my way through the Seven Kingdoms like a flaming sword through snow until I reach Sunspear. Then I will make your entire family one of my own and you won't be able to do a thing about it."

"This isn't… the end..."

When Aerion intended to exert himself further, he realised that his sight was growing blurry and felt his consciousness fade.

He fell.

"If I had waited a few more years, you would've been the end of me." The Night King made his way to Aerion in a steady stride. "Fortunately, I did not."

This time, when he raised his sword, he was all too confident that nothing would stand in his way.

He stabbed it deep through Aerion's chest, resulting in ice slowly spreading throughout his body.

"With this, I am free…"

Aerion's book of Hematomancy broke into action once the Night King's figure had faded into the distance. His entire body had been covered in crimson blood and the ice spreading across his body had been driven back to the core from which it had emerged. By the time he had awakened, his heart beat jumped as he worried about everything that had happened.

"... Where is he?"

"I would prefer a compliment first for stopping you from becoming a member of the dead."

"..." Aerion did feel something at the core of his being that was not there before. "What did he do to me?"

"Gave you his blessing, so it seems. I've stopped it from spreading but it's still there, waiting for the opportunity to turn you into one of those ice men. If you manage to kill him before that happens, the blessing will fade away…"

"'Blessing', you say." Aerion sprang up to his feet, not feeling as cold as he used to.

"Well, free immortality, stronger magic and a greater proficiency in Cryomancy. It's not a curse if you're seeking greater power. And, with your strong will and my assistance, you will still be independent."

"...."

Power… that was what he needed most.

Immortality… ruling forever, unhinged by the threat of old age.

When he thought about it…

"No."

"Then you have to grow strong and do so quickly. You've been sleeping soundly for a good time."

He said no more, taking his sword and the book before riding south atop the fastest dragon in his inventory.

After restoring the number of White Walkers under him, the Night King left them to cause a little rampage while he galloped south atop an undead horse. While an ordinary horse would tire and halt him… well, an undead one would gallop faster than any other horse while never needing to rest. It did not even take him a week to gaze upon Sunspear, the home of his greatest adversary to date.

'The Dragon Emperor's defiance and ruthlessness are not to be underestimated… but he has one fatal weakness.'

The Night King knew that even if Aerion Targaryen was an Other, he'd never bow his head to him. This wasn't an issue for the Night King… because he won, either way.

The guards at Sunspear proved to be no more than paper placed against fire as the Night King walked by in a carefree manner. He had frightened every man who had looked his way, leading to chaos without him even trying.

'All that noise…'

The Night King, growing irritated, simply froze everyone who panicked… leading to more panic. Eventually, most of Sunspear had been covered in ice as he made his way to the Old Palace. He gathered a dozen undead servants, allowing them to scour the place and drag out the people he was looking for.

Once gathered, he seemed all too pleased with himself.

"Arianne Martell and Ashara Dayne, the two wives of Aerion Targaryen. Elia Martell, his mother. Doran Martell, his oldest uncle. Oberyn… he isn't here. What a shame." The Night King sighed. "Well, I suppose he's off travelling somewhere."

"What in Seven hells are you?" Elia Martell inquired, shivering in the cold.

"I'm Aerion Targaryen's best friend." The Night King smirked. "He trusts me so much that he has entrusted your lives in my warm care."

"He would never… look at what you did! When he finds you, he will burn you until there is nothing left!"

"Would he, really? If I hold your lives in my palm would he rather have you live or kill an old man like me?" The Night King glanced at Arianne Martell. "Your husband is quite ruthless to strangers, yes, but it's entirely the opposite with those close to him. But first, I must show him that my words have meaning..."

His cold voice did not have remorse in the slightest.

With Winterfell surrounded by an army of a thousand wights and several night walkers, the situation was growing dire. However, Aerion's four Kingsguard stood confident as they planned to eliminate the army in a swift fashion. Even without Aerion to guide them, they were all supremely skilled in the arts of battle and had the physical amplification to swiftly erase most enemies.

"If the wights are tied to the Others leading them, like Aerion's magic, defeating them would make the rest of the army collapse." Ser Arthur stated. "If Ser Robert was with us, we could've used him to cut through their lines..."

"Don't you have strong fire magic of your own?" Jaime Lannister inquired, although he knew the answer to that question. "I have a plan... but it requires the obedience of Vermithor, who listens to few people."

"Few people? Prince Jon and Princess Jocelyn have ridden the dragon in Aerion's absence. They can do so again, I'm sure." Ser Oswell replied.

"We would be putting their lives in danger." Jaime Lannister wasn't willing, clearly.

"True, but Jon should be old enough to understand. What was Aerion doing when he was ten-and-four? Conquering the seas!"

"I will protect him myself if need be." Ser Barristan assured Jaime Lannister. "Not a single one of those dead men will touch a lock of the prince's hair, I can assure you."

"Then there are no more concerns to discuss, Lord Commander?" Ser Arthur asked.

"No, there aren't. My plan should work if we slay the Night Walkers fast enough. Bring the prince here, we must see if he is willing to follow through with it first."

The army outside of Winterfell stood still, although no one truly knew why the dead men did not move forward. They just stood there... waiting.

"ROAAAR!"

The sky trembled as a mighty roar broke out from a menacing three-headed dragon who soared through the sky. Once its emerald eyes locked with the small band of five Night Walkers, the dragon turned and prepared its descent.

In response, the night walkers prepared spears of ice to throw at the dragon... but Vermithor released a blast of emerald flames from its middle head before they managed to throw, disorientating them. Meanwhile, its other two heads released scarlet flames that burned through the ranks of the wights like paper.

BOOOOOM.

The dragon descended onto the ground, squashing a dozen or so wights under its black scales. Immediately after, the Kingsguard leapt down onto the ground and engaged in single combat with the Night Walkers.

The confident smirks of the Others fell when they realised just how outclassed they were. Ser Barristan swiftly dispatched the first one, almost dancing around him. Ser Jaime parried his and cut straight through his chest. Ser Arthur cleaved through his opponent with his flaming Dawn, scattering the Other into shards of ice.

Ser Oswell took a little longer with his, but he managed to take him out.

Then, in that very instant, all four of them obliterated the last one with a barrage of sword strikes that simply couldn't be countered.

The sun shined upon them as the four Kingsguard stood victorious in a field of fallen wights and ice.

'They're all so cool...'

Jon thought, looking upon them with reverence as he petted Vermithor.

"I believe we can take the fight to them using a similar strategy." Jaime Lannister came upon a revelation. "As long as none of them have magic that is more destructive than Ser Arthur's..."

The Kingsguard eventually turned to Vermithor, who seemed to be feasting on the Night Walker's remains. Not their icy bodily remains... but the 'aura' that had emerged after their death. Their souls, to be precise.

"The dragon... is feasting on their souls?" Ser Arthur remarked with a surprised expression.

"The dragon had been birthed from scarlet and emerald flames... perhaps that is why." Jaime Lannister, too, looked surprised.

For a moment, the dragon seemed a lot more... knowing.

28th day of the Seventh Moon, 297 AC.

With Ser Arthur gathering the Soul Knights who were scattered across the North and an army of living men with the assistance of Lord Eddard, the Night King's main force had finally been challenged. Vermithor had proved to be the most menacing of all dragons, frightening even the Others who had seemed too detached to feel fear previously.

Now, these two forces faced each other alongside the Long Lake northeast of Winterfell. Tensions were high in the cold weather as men rubbed their hands. Ser Arthur raised Dawn from atop an undead horse, lighting it afire like a beacon of hope. His fire spread to the rest of the living army, giving their blades and spears the blessing of fire.

"Although His Grace is not physically with us, let his raging fury ignite your hearts." Jaime Lannister spoke loudly so that most of the vanguard would hear him. "The dead that we face have no remorse for anything. Not your children, not your wives, not your lands, not your brothers and sisters... they intend to turn our world into ruin."

"Will we, the men of Westeros, allow them to trample over us and all that we hold dear?"

"NO!"

A resounding roar spread across the army.

"Then say it with me; WITH FIRE AND BLOOD!"

"WITH FIRE AND BLOOD!"

"CHARGE!"

The two armies collided, with the cavalry unit of Soul Knights carving a path of flames through the thousands of wights. They were stopped by the Night Walkers, who proved worthy adversaries. While the ordinary men fought wights, Soul Knights faced off against their ice counterparts in a clash for the ages.

Fire and ice danced across the field as neither side yielded.

BOOOOM.

From a great distance away, a volley of explosive flame arrows descended onto the undead army's centre, incinerating hundreds of them at once. A unit of twenty Soul Knights had emerged from atop a distant hill, led by the Archer himself.

"Those clueless ice cunts didn't see that coming now, did they? Men, let's show them the fire of Our Lord!"

"AYE!"

"BURN EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM!"

The general in command of the Night King's army turned to the archers, raised his arm and attempted to channel Cryomancy but he was interrupted by a wave of fire that forced him to dodge. Turning to face the source of this fire, he saw the piercing emerald eyes of Ser Arthur and his swift figure approaching ever-so-closely.

CLANG.

The two clashed against each other, one wielding a sword of ice while the Sword of the Morning held a flaming Dawn that radiated light as brilliant as the sun.

"Unworthy pests... you dare stand in my way?"

"I believe that you would be the true pests in this land and we will be rid of you soon enough!"

Ser Arthur cooly replied, shoving the general's blade to the side and following up with a piercing stab.

The general formed ice to shield himself and evaded backwards before Dawn could penetrate his chest.

"You're good-... AHHHHHH!"

The general's compliment was short-lived as Vermithor breathed emerald flames onto the general, burning through his back. With the general being disorientated, Ser Arthur moved forwards to land the finishing blow... but he was halted by a mighty barrier of ice.

Every Night Walker in the vicinity offered their magic to shield him, working as one.

"Damn those Others..." Ser Arthur cursed, watching the general recover in the ice.

Then, they all aimed towards Vermithor but... by the time they had turned to him, the dragon had elegantly flown higher in the sky- far out of reach.

"No more toying around with you foolish men... I will turn this entire battlefield into a sheet of ice!" The general stood up, clearly enraged. The ice around him propelled towards the sky but his moment of grandeur was overshadowed by something far more sinister.

"ROAAAAAR!"

"What in Seven hells... are those all dragons!?"

Seemingly hundreds of roars had erupted in the sky... and, as the clouds scattered to make way... the Others felt an oppressive presence that only one man could instil upon them. The entire world seemed to shake in his appearance...

And yet... it was not their King.

It was another...

The Dragon Emperor.

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