32

Chapter Text

Jon

People say that Harrenhal appeared as five enormous candles made of stone, melting from the wrath of Balerion's fire. But from high in the sky, they looked small enough to be plucked up and taken to a nightstand. The cursed castle of Harren the Black was not their destination, however, it was the forest to the south of the God's Eye.

Rhaegal cried his voice in fury and Jon could feel that the dragon sensed something amiss. There was a small clearing in the wood, large enough to land the dragons and dismount for the search.

Jon looked over at Daenerys and her men riding on Drogon. He waved at them and pointed down to the ground. She nodded and both Drogon and Rhaegal swooped down from the sky and after a furious descent, steadied themselves and landed rather roughly but secure in the clearing.

Jon looked behind him to see if his Kingsguard were fairing alright and to his amazement, only Wallace and Remus had slipped down off of Rhaegal as fast as they could to vomit on the grass. It was enough to make Jon smile and laugh a little at the results of initiating others into being dragonriders.

With his mind getting back on track of their purpose here, Jon dismounted Rhaegal with Beric and met with Daenerys and Jorah.

"Lord Reed's men should be meeting us here any moment," Jon said as he looked around in all directions for any sign of the Crannogmen. "What about Thoros and his men?"

Beric stepped next to Jon, "They'll be coming from the south. We can only hope they're on their way as fast as they can."

'You don't have time to wait,' said the Raven, 'I'm bringing more help.'

The sound of rustling leaves brought everyone's attention to the trees across from the dragons, trees that Jon had scanned but saw nothing at first, where several men with dragonglass spears stood.

"Your Grace," the leader said, taking a knee into a bow and the others following suit.

"No formalities until the problem is dealt with," Jon ordered and the men arose swiftly. "How many are here?"

"We're fifty men with Lord Howland."

"And have you found it?"

"Not directly, but we've picked up the tracks and have a warg scouting through the woods with his thrush. We should find it any moment now. There weren't any signs of attacks that we could find when we followed the trail from Fairmarket."

Jon nodded. "Tell the warg to direct his bird south and look for any signs of attacks." He stepped to the side with his arm out. "This is Queen Daenerys Targaryen and her Unsullied guard led by Ser Jorah Mormont. She will be providing support from her dragons if needed."

His men bowed to her. "We have heard much about you, your Grace," remarked the leader, eyeing his King closely. "Mostly the best of things." Jon could tell he was being courteous over honesty but still a little smitten.

Daenerys smiled slightly. "Something to truly be heartened about, I suppose." Clasping her hands together, she seemed to steel herself to the coming matters at hand. Jon had been impressed at this when he met her the first time, and was the same now. The woman capable of the most passionate of emotions and at the same time the most determined and devoted of logical leadership. "I have brought all three of my dragons."

"Their dragonfire and ability to watch from high in the air will be useful to us. But dragonfire is a last resort and for the sake of the world we cannot allow the wight to escape," Jon spoke. "The Queen will ride Drogon."

"And King Aegon shall ride Rhaegal." Daenerys spoke with confidence in her plan. "The two of us shall fly low over the ground while Viserion is slightly higher for support if needed… though with simply one wight rather than an entire army of beasts and monsters, I do not think there shall be a need."

Pursing his lips, Jon tried to keep the images from flashing in his mind. Viserion falling, wounded by the Night King. Daenerys in danger, surrounded by wights as Ser Jorah tried to protect her… he had witnessed the former directly, while the latter was the product of Bran's greensight. Tracing the path of Daenerys' fall into madness was one of the longest endeavors it took for all of them to do before Jon came back to the past. Thank the Gods that Tyrion had a damn good memory. A wight was incomparable to a White Walker, but these creatures were always able to be unexpected in almost all things.

He couldn't let this happen. Not Daenerys, not Drogon, not Viserion, and not Rhaegal. "No," he said.

Daenerys blinked. "Pardon, your Grace?"

He shook his head. "I'll be useless in the air," he lied, but a part he still had to play. "I'm a better hunter. I'll scout on the ground with my men… and you will fly high. We will signal if dragon support is needed."

Scowling, Daenerys' stubbornness reared up. His silent pleading was for naught. "And risk you being overwhelmed before I manage to get there? Not a chance."

There was a time where he would've given his limbs for such devotion from Daenerys. Part of him still did, but unfortunately it couldn't be. "We can hold our own long enough for the dragons to dive, but if there are others and they start to overwhelm, we cannot risk the dragons being felled and turning into wights themselves." Jon's head fell in shame at new developments. He took her hands in his. "The four of you need to be safe."

Her eyes widened, and breath hitched. Normally, Daenerys would argue more. But there was a change in expression that nearly crippled him where he stood. "Alright…" Daenerys unintentionally shivered just as a light snowfall began to come over them. Jon looked up to the clouds and saw a small snowstorm washing over them. Funny, he didn't notice this one the way…

He felt more confident that his point was more accurate than he meant.

"I should have dressed warmer," Daenerys commented with an amused smile.

"Here," Jon removed his own cloak and set it on Daenerys' shoulders. "The warmest cloaks are from the North."

A beautiful smile formed from the corners of her lips and time felt like it stopped for just a few seconds so they could look at each other.

A sudden crunching of leaves broke their attention and a Crannogman rushed into the clearing. "We found it!" He reported with an exhausted breath. "The beast's giving chase to a mother and her daughter as we speak. We must hurry!"

Without second thought, Daenerys rushed over to Drogon and climbed atop. "How will I see your signal?" She asked.

"Keep an eye out for Beric's sword on fire. If he waves you down, we need you."

Jon stood back as Drogon spread his massive wings and launched into the air with Rhaegal and Viserion at his tail. He caught a glimpse of Daenerys looking back at them before the dragons disappeared over the trees.

Turning around, Jon took a breath and looked out into the trees. Somewhere out there was a soldier of death. He drew Blackfyre, holding it in a relaxed but ready grip and advanced deeper into the trees that smelled with hints of rot and death. "Spread out, but keep close." His Kingsguard, the Crannogmen, and the Unsullied all took in different directions to start the search for the escaped wight. Beric flanked his left and Remus his right. Ser Jorah led the van of the Unsullied with Longclaw held aloft in both hands.

Their pace was a fast one as they followed the guidance of the warg. It was only a couple of minutes of fast venturing through the woods before they began to hear faint sounds that were echoes of a greater, more horrible noise.

Jon took to a light run and everyone matched his pace, dodging bushes, branches, shrubs, and fallen trees.

The noises became clearer as they got closer. The definite cries of a wight were ringing true through the woods as were the wails of a woman and child.

"Faster!" Jon ordered and he nearly broke into a full sprint. They all passed over a small hill that overlooked the God's Eye Lake and when they reached the bottom, there was visible movement of a chase in the woods.

"Help!" A woman screamed.

"Come on!" Jon rallied as loud as he could, hoping his voice and any other noise would take the wight's attention away from his hunt. He yelled out a great battlecry and everyone joined him, whether catching onto the idea or just as standard battle procedure.

The wight's cries stopped as it came into sight and range. One of the Unsullied hurled a spear with incredible skill and strength. The weapon sailed over the tops of the trees and landed inches away from the wight, only missing because the beast shifted as it was thrown.

The wight screamed at all of them and took off in a sprint, fleeing away at unyielding speed. Its feet were bare of boots and the skin was both black and rotting. Neither twig nor rock made the creature flinch or trip.

It was heading for the lake but it wouldn't get far. A collection of Howland's men from the north came into sight, and were preparing to box in the beast. Another Unsullied threw his spear at the Wight and it barely missed its mark at the back of the wight's head.

But it didn't matter, the creature was boxed in by the crannogmen, the Unsullied, and the lake.

At least, that's what everyone assumed would stop it.

The wight didn't break stride. It ran up a rocky slope that overlooked the lake and without hesitation dove into the water.

Jon and those with him ran to the edge of the rocks and looked into the water. Far off, the water was dark and murky, but close enough, they could almost see down to the bottom, and the wight was slowly trudging down below outwards. 

One of the Unsullied threw his spear with such strength, but the surface of the water gave an illusion to the wight's true position and misdirected the aim after it penetrated the surface.

"Get the boats!" Howland called over to his men. "We'll fish the bastard out of there."

"Are you sure?" Remus asked. "That water's cold as ice."

Howland looked at him squarely. "We of the swamp swim leisurely with the ice if we want to find food."

Jon looked back at the mother and child and saw them at their knees at one of the Crannogmen, giving thanks with sweat covered hands. She had been carrying the child this whole time. Jon walked over to the woman. "Are you alright?" he asked.

The mother looked at him in awe. "Are you him? Are you the King?"

"My name is Aegon Targaryen," Jon introduced, "did that thing manage to harm anyone else? Did it kill anybody?"

"Don't know, your grace," the woman informed. "Me' daughter and me were caught on the road by that from Harrenhal. Ran as fast we could for nearly an hour now. I thought for sure it'd get us."

"Don't worry," Jon said with a reassuring smile, "you're safe now." he touched her shoulder and then strode off.

"Well," Beric said in a calm tone, "at least it's out of reach of anyone now. But diving into those waters… I don't think I'm brave enough even for that."

Jon didn't respond immediately. Something didn't sit right with him about this. "...Aye…" Jon agreed but his hesitance was noticed.

"Something not feeling right?" Beric asked as Remus, Jorah, and Crieghton stood with them.

Jon nodded. "Wights feel no pain, fatigue, and almost have no limits. They can keep a full sprint for as long as they want. So how is it that this one couldn't keep up with a woman exhausted and encumbered by her child?"

Jorah looked back at the water. "You suspect there's more than meets the eye?"

Jon sighed. "That tends to be the bloody case with them. Every time you assume you have a moment to breathe, they're simply letting you catch your breath so they can strangle it out of you more painfully." He felt the weight of it all as he walked over to a fallen tree and sat on the trunk, sighing out.

The Raven said his sight could not see this forest, but if everywhere surrounding it was safe then maybe it was alright. This could have become so much worse if the wight had reached a village or infiltrated a castle at night. A whole army of these beasts would be roaming Westeros by tomorrow and then there would be threats beyond and behind the Wall.

"There's something we're missing." He insisted. "It could simply be that it's a miracle that no one's been killed…" he remembered one of the most important new details Sam and Qyburn discovered. "The White Walkers and the Night King could only bring the dead back, but now the wights can too… There have been battles fought here before. Can a corpse last that long underwater?"

Crieghton shook his head. "No, it's impossible unless the water is frozen over year after year. The temperature's cold enough to preserve, but fish and crabs would take every bit they could for their meal. How much of a corpse needs to remain to be brought back?"

"Little more than just a skeleton," that much Jon knew for certain. If all that was left down in the water was bones then they'd have nothing to fear. He looked over and saw several boats already out in the lake and three crannogmen stripped down to their skivvies and dived in with their dragonglass spears and daggers.

Still, Jon could not help but look around. Everything had become so still and quiet. Only the winds blowing through the trees and the rustling of the leaves made any sound. He couldn't shake this dark feeling he had. There had to be something more. It just wasn't right with how easy this was.

His gaze was pulled over to the God's Eye when he felt a cool breeze pushed at his chin to turn and look. The water looked calm, barely rippling from the soft wind and floating of the boats… but then there was a push in the water making a small wave creep up the shoreline.

Jon felt disturbed at the sight and his breathing shivered. That wasn't a normal motion of water, even with the push of the wind.

"What is it?" Jorah asked.

"Wait here." Jon told them.

He walked closer to the edge of the water at the shore. Something about this image seemed unnatural enough that he had to look closer at it. There was something else, a faint reflection. No, not a reflection, a light underneath? It could have been just a trick of the light of day on the surface of the water, but it couldn't be. The glow was small and contained. The toe of Jon's boots touched the edge of the water as he looked forward with squinting eyes. The light… it had color… blue.

One of the crannogmen surfaced with a giant slash across his face and he screamed only one word before being pulled down into the depths.

"RUN!"

Jon's body immediately went into a panic and he jumped away to the side as immediately an eruption of water burst up and an enormous head followed that speared in his direction. A great and powerful jaw lined with teeth the size of daggers snapped at where he had just been standing but missed by mere inches.

Jon spun his body around when he landed and slashed Blackfyre up above him to fend off the creature.

From underneath the water arose the decaying remains of a beast once mighty but now half-rotten and half-bones emerged and let out a terrible noise that could only be heard in nightmares, one that even Jon felt utterly powerless and shaking to his core. Even in this time, the Night King was able to raise a dragon up into his army.

"Caraxes…" The Raven's voice echoed, "swallowed deep into the lake, too far to be retrieved and laid to rest…" The dragon's throat was torn from the neck and half of its left wing arm was torn completely off, its tail and belly were decomposed of nearly all flesh and the head was like a melting sculpture of wax. Water poured off of its mottled scales, but the red hue of them was still clear.

The explanation went ignored in Jon's mind as he yelled out and did the only thing he felt he could do. Run. The ground shook as the undead dragon chased after him, crashing into trees that blocked off his Kingsguard from immediately coming to his help. It unleashed that deathly cry of terror incarnate. A sudden flash of blue light came forth and jets of blue flames soared above Jon into the trees, igniting them in flames. This thing had horrible aim thanks to the decomposition.

To his divine luck or the monster's poor idea of keeping things discreet, the first roar did not go unheard to others and the second roar was answered by the sound of a living dragon. Jon had to duck aside when Drogon launched through the trees and unleashed a torrent of fire at Caraxes. But the wight dragon was not knocked back or out of his path despite being smaller than Drogon.

"Dracarys!" Daenerys shouted from atop Drogon's back and the dragon arched his neck back and unleashed another furious blast of flames that burst upon impacting Caraxes. But the undead dragon did not catch flame as fast as wights did nor did it collapse as the flesh inside was scorched.

Caraxes swung its good wing up at Drogon, though the membrane was all but gone, swiping the dragon's head to the side and launching forward with teeth open and trying to bite at Daenerys. The undead dragon got dangerously close but only succeeded in biting Jon's cloak and tearing it from Daenerys's shoulders.

Drogon stood tall upon his legs, throwing Caraxes back, and using his full weight, slammed down upon the undead dragon. Four sharp claws dug into Caraxes' back and squeezed. Bones crunched and snapped under the tight pressure of a dragon's grasp.

Caraxes arched his neck and latched his jaw onto Drogon's tail with teeth still sharp as swords. Despite Drogon's bigger size and Caraxes' decaying state, the undead dragon was able to pull back Drogon and be free. Caraxes' immediately lunged forward and bit down at Drogon's shoulder. Drogon screeched painfully until he was released and Caraxes' once again went after Daenerys.

In a desperate and immediate reaction to fight, Jon raised Blackfyre in both hands above his head and hurled it as hard as he could. The Valyrian Steel sword twirled fast into the air at the undead dragon, but his luck was gone as the blade made no contact when the crossguard whacked the beast square in the head. Caraxes had spun his body around and used the momentum in his attack to bash Drogon in the head. The exposed bones made the tail act as a mace and gashed into Drogon's chin, spewing foams of hot blood on the ground.

With this window, Caraxes turned his head at Jon and charged at him. Without a weapon, Jon could only run. Trees were torn apart and uprooted as the undead dragon cleared its path in its charge. Jon dared not look back as he ran, though much good it did him. His armor and the muddy ground slowed him.

But he was not without help. Spears of dragonglass sailed over him as the Unsullied and the Kingsguard charged forth to meet him. But when Jon turned around expecting a downed dragon, there was none. The dragonglass spears broke against the scales of the dragon. The only vulnerable areas were the torn flesh. He felt like a damn fool for throwing his sword.

Caraxes swatted at the soldiers when they got closer with their weapons. The men were just out of reach of the tail and wing. This was all they could do. Any closer and it would be instant death, but the intention was merely something to get the dragon's attention for a few seconds if they could. Any experienced man of war knew that a man only had to be blinded for a second to fall in battle.

A stream of fire came from above as Rhaegal swooped down. The force of blast blew Caraxes back, enough that he was fully exposed as Rhaegal dived like a falling spear into the undead dragon. Caraxes' was thrown back, some of his entrails fell from his open wounds, and both dragons rolled near the edge of the lake once again. Jon wasted no time to chase after the battle. He had to try to get his sword back… but someone stepped from behind and offered a familiar hilt to him.

"Here," Jorah said as he put Longclaw in Jon's hands, "don't lose this one." When Jon took the sword, Jorah armed himself with a dragonglass spear and together they ran back to the fight. For a moment, Jon took comfort holding the hilt of his true sword. The grip was perfect and familiar compared to Blackfyre.

"Behind us!" A voice shouted from far behind the battle at hand. Jon spared a quick glance but lingered at the sight of a crannogman running to them with bows armed and loosing them from bowstring at a massive crowd of people running to them.

Wights were coming. The monster in the water found more than thirty people to turn since his escape and they were all coming for them. Hardly any of them were armed with more than a club or woodman's axe. But some of them were greatly decayed. There must have been bodies buried from the war all around here.

Before Jon could even think of how to handle things now with the new information, he felt himself get shoved and immediately a scream erupted when he fell to the ground. He rolled over just in time to see Ser Remus drop from the air with his breastplate caved into his chest and arm broken. Caraxes had swiped his tail and would have killed Jon instead if Remus didn't just sacrifice himself.

Jorah had ducked as well and helped pull Jon to his feet as the crannogman running were set upon faster than they could fire arrows. The first of them didn't draw his dragonglass dagger fast enough when a wight in a ripped dress and a patch of hair torn from her head tackled him with a table knife and stabbed at his neck while biting at the flesh of his face as he screamed. Another wight crawled on top of another man he tripped and used a broken piece of wood, a spoke from a wagon wheel by the looks of it, and fought him back.

Jon held up Longclaw. "Rally! Fight back the wights!" He led Jorah, his Kingsguard, and the crannogmen with him away from the dragons. The Unsullied would have to take care of Daenerys if she needed help, but a rear attack couldn't be ignored. 

"The water!" Howland yelled. "More from the water!"

Looking back at the shore of the lake, numerous bodies in rusted armor were walking out, all of them armed with rusted steel.

Surrounded, and by so many. "Form up!" Jon yelled. "Fall back and form ranks!"

Drogon was still dazed and wasn't moving. Rhaegal and Caraxes rolled together in combat, snapping and ripping at each other. Caraxes tore into the back of Rhaegal's neck, biting off a chunk of flesh the size of a fat pig, Rhaegal in turn used the claws of his hind legs to gut Caraxes more than he already was. Caraxes did the unbelievable as puffs of light appeared in the open throat and a mass of blue flames burst out onto Rhaegal. 

The flames spread far, catching one of the crannogmen who dared to get too close. The man's screams were drowned out by the growls and powerful collisions between Rhaegal and Caraxes. The green dragon crashed the weight of his neck upon Caraxes', sending the flames lancing out into the air in a great display.

Jon could look no more at the dragons fighting as he had to consider the wights coming from all directions. The wights from the water were moving slow but moved to avoid the dragons, coming straight for them. Their men who had been killed were already starting to rise back up. Four crannogmen and Ser Remus. The trees continued to burn brightly, only the blue flames changed to the color of normal fire and burning ash was falling like snow.

The Unsullied formed a small shield wall towards the lake, those that lost their spears drew their shortswords and the crannogmen joined in the ranks. Jon's Kingguard gathered near him as a barrier with their swords up and dragonglass daggers in their left hands.

"Hold fast!" Jon kept looking back and forth between the wights from the trees and the wights from the lake, but his gaze caught a new sight coming fast from the lake that would take a load off their shoulders.

Viserion was gliding low over the lake, heading straight for the many wights that emerged from the lake. But again, the unthinkable happened.

A second undead dragon burst out from underneath the water of the God's Eye and collided with Viserion. The horrid beast had only one wing and a torn stump sticking out of its back. It sank its teeth into Viserion's leg and let his weight pull them both into the shallows, kicking up a mess of mud and foam.

"Another one!?" Wallace exclaimed. "Just how many dragons are in this damn lake?"

The voice of the Raven appeared once again. "Quicksilver, the first to die here."

Jon shushed out the noise. The wights from the trees were charging at them. Four crannogmen still had their bows.

"Loose! At will!" Jon barked and they let their arrows fly as fast as they could knock them. Several wights were hit, but it didn't phase the others coming. An arrow hit Remus on his breastplate and shattered. "Hold fast!" Jon looked back at the lake wights and they too were coming fast as Rhaegal and Caraxes continued to struggle.

A horn suddenly blew through the trees from the west and a dozen lights of torches came into view. No, not torches, swords. Burning swords. It was the Brotherhood.

Thoros and his men were riding fast on horseback into the fight, but the wights didn't give them a single look as they were just upon the defense.

Jon felt more ready with the feeling of Longclaw in his hands. The sword was more familiar to him. He could not help Viserion as the two dragons were locked in combat in the lake. Rhaegal was still fighting Caraxes in what looked like an even match, but they were getting closer to Drogon and Daenerys.

"Charge!" Jon yelled and his force rushed forward to meet the wights. Most of the spears met their marks, but the wights were relentless, charging through at their hardest and tearing through what they could however they could. Three spearmen were slain but avenged by the Kingsguard and Ser Jorah.

A great roar came from Jon as he cut through whatever creature in front of him stared back with glowing eyes.

Spears had to be abandoned and swords were drawn. The Brotherhood had managed to catch up to the battle, striking the right flanks and crushing them. Bodies were set alight with flames of the blades blessed with the R'hllor's fire. Only one of the men from the Brotherhood failed to strike true. His horse had been felled close to where Drogon and Daenerys laid and his body was set upon immediately. But the man's armor was thick. Several wights, skeletons really, tried to bite him all over and tear at his flesh. Thick chainmail stopped them long enough for him to spring to his feet. Bellowing, he bashed one in the face with an armored gauntlet, shoving others to the side as he drew out his daggers.

Jon raced towards him, the man a nexus for at least a dozen wights. Longclaw sang in his hands, the longsword slicing through the air as rotted bodies soaked in river water and algae were hacked to pieces. "Protect Drogon!" Jon screamed, turning to face the wights still emerging from the lake. "Come on, you cunts! Come at me!"

They were keen to oblige him.

"Aegon!" It was Daenerys. Her forehead was cut, blood trickling across her face, but she seemed alright.

"Can he fly?!" Jon cried out, burying Longclaw into a wight's skull as the brotherhood man he saved swung his flaming sword. 

Drogon rumbled behind him, shakily rising to his feet. "No!" Daenerys called back at him.

But Jon didn't need him to fly. "Burn the lake!" he bellowed. 

"What?!"

"Burn the fucking lake!" A swing decapitated a skeleton. "Before they overwhelm us!"

Daenerys didn't hesitate long, and soon Drogon's massive neck swept over Jon's head. "Dracarys!" A massive tongue of flame swept the beach like a broom. Wet wights were incinerated upon first contact, Drogon hobbling still dazed at the shoreline. Steam rose from and the water seemingly parted at the force of his dragonfire, but harsh, bloodcurdling screeches reached Jon's ears. Whatever monsters were set to emerge from the gloomy depths, Drogon was holding the line.

For now at least.

A sudden shriek boomed through the air, one that stabbed through all other noises. Viserion … A cry unlike any from the other dragons made today. But Jon felt a familiarity in the noise. It sounded just like when Viserion fell from the sky after being struck with a lance of ice. He saw the dragon trying to flee the nightmarish opponent.

"Bran," Jon, "can you get Rhaegal off? He needs to help Viserion. We can take Caraxes."

"I'll try…" the Raven responded.

"Surround them!" Jon barked his order and immediately a semi circle was forming around the two dragons. Shortly after, Rhaegal's eyes flashed white and he struggled to free himself from combat. He was just about off…

"Spears at the ready! You five," Jon pointed at two Unsullied and three Crannogmen, "throw at the exposed flesh!"

Rhaegal launched himself off of Caraxes and leapt into flight over the water only to dive onto Quicksilver. Rather than tackle the undead dragon like he did Caraxes, Rhaegal opened his mouth and clamped his teeth onto Quicksilver's neck, dragging both of them in the water.

"Now!"

Five spears tipped with dragonglass were hurled into the air, sailing smooth and straight that the undead dragon. The dragon's wing swiped up and knocked three away. One of the last two missed completely when Caraxes moved but the last one landed into a soft spot of torn flesh that Rhaegal had made.

Jon felt a pride of victory arise but it died immediately when Caraxes did not fall. This wasn't possible. Neither fire or dragonglass could kill it. But why not?

"Looks like a small prick isn't going to bring it down," Beric said loudly, "we need to get it deep into the body."

It might not work, but it was an idea.

One of the Unsullied raised his spear up. "Syt Dāria Daenerys!" He and four other Unsullied ran forward with their spears held high and firm. Several of the crannogmen joined in , trying to herd the undead dragon and using the falling terrain as cover.

Jon wouldn't stand by and watch. "Kingsguard, with me!" He led his guard in a charge. If he could get under the dragon, he could slice into the torn underbelly of the beast. If that didn't kill the damn thing then nothing would except destroying the master.

Caraxes kept his eyes locked on Jon, even when three men were close enough to attack. The undead dragon merely spun on his ruined arm and swiped all three with his tail. Steel and bone broke when the tail hit them and sent them all wailing into the air far away.

Jon thought he had an opening but when the tail was gone, the torn wing came forward and cut through the air like a sword. Jon had to duck down fast to avoid the limbs hit into him. By the sounds of it, someone was not as fast enough. Jon couldn't look back though. He had to focus on the battle. He pulled himself up to his feet once again, his armor now covered in mud and grime, and ran as fast as he could to get underneath the belly of the beast.

Caraxes' huge neck swung over him as the undead dragon snapped its jaws at two Unsullied that had to jump out of the way. He was close enough that he just had to make one good thrust. But the damn dragon wouldn't stop moving. Caraxes kept using his tail and wing to attack, making him constantly shift his position and stomp his feet. Jon had to dodge and weave to avoid getting stepped on.

Caraxes seemed to notice that someone was under him because the dragon rolled over to the side and back up. The dragon tried to bite Jon but only succeeded at pushing him backwards into the mud.

With a roar Drogon lunged from the shoals, tackling Caraxes. Immediately, Caraxes thrashed about and unleashed burst after burst of his blue flames that greatly irritated Drogon, the two of them kicking up massive waves of churning water.

Daenerys had slipped from her dragon onto the ground and Caraxes began slamming his tail down near where Daenerys was, but he could not quite reach her. He kept using his flames to keep Drogon from holding him down and getting closer and closer to Daenerys.

"No!" Jon got back to his feet and charged head on with Longclaw raised up in his hands. Caraxes had just slammed his tail down and with all of his strength, Jon swung Longclaw down like a furious executioner and cleaved into the rotting bone. He wasn't able to cut all the way through, and Longclaw was lodged into the bone, but it was enough that when the tail was quickly raised up to slam down again, the bone snapped at the peak of its height and only half a tail that couldn't reach was left.

Weaponless again, Jon was out of the fight. "Sorry Jorah," he muttered as he ducked and ran back to Daenerys. He had to get her out of the proximity. She was just as defenseless as he was.

He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her up fast, "Come on!" he shouted, but they only took three steps before the pops of bones and joints made Jon look back. The wing was coming for another strike right at them. "Down!" He pushed Daenerys down so she was in front of him as they fell, but he was a second slow. A powerful strike swiped at his back and a thrash of pain like a steel whip cut into his back.

Jon yelled as he fell next to Daenerys in the dirt.

"Aegon!" Daenerys cried.

"My back!" Jon tried to move but he couldn't without feeling what felt like a pair of blades digging into his back. "My armor's torn into my back!" He was stuck. "Run!" He told her with a push but she would not leave. Instead Daenerys drew her dagger, holding it out at the dragon while trying to pull him but the movement only made his wound hurt more, forcing another scream out of him. "Stop," he grunted, "just run."

From behind, Wallace cried out a mighty roar in the battle, echoing all around. Jon was just barely able to turn his head enough to see past the corner of his eyes that Wallace had run forward with Blackfyre in his hands, leaping onto a rock, and into the air towards Caraxes. With a mighty yell, Wallace plunged the sword deep into Caraxes' belly, and the undead dragon finally collapsed.

Without waiting, Drogon lunged forward and dove into the water to join his brothers in the fight against the second undead dragon. It was three against one now, and in one motion that looked coordinated, all three of the dragons used their jaws to rip into Quicksilver and tear him apart limb from limb. Viserion was the one who ripped the head from the body, through it up into the air. Just before it landed back into the water, Jon could see the glow blue of the eyes fade away just as it did when the spear pierced Caraxes.

A stillness fell over the battlefield as everyone collectively held their breath for something else to appear. But nothing did.

"It's over," said the Raven in an exhausted sounding voice. "And.. I must rest… I can't…"

"It's alright," Jon seethed.

Daenerys

"No," Daenerys gasped, dropping her dagger and falling to Aegon's side, "you're not alright!"

Aegon was seething where he lay as blood continued to gush from his wound. The backplate of his armor dug into his back like a pair of knives where the steel was torn. It was a cut roughly seven or eight inches long.

"Help!" Daenerys called, "your King is wounded!" She didn't know what to do at that moment. She'd never been in the heart of a battle before, only atop her dragons and nothing had taken her down from Drogon before. Only that moment in the fighting pit, and she felt just as terrified as then.

Moreso, since Aegon was the one in danger.

"Your Grace!" Ser Beric rushed over and fell to his knees. "The backplate! Get it off." He began to work at the buckles of the armor and looked up at her. "Your cloak is cleaner than mine. When we get this off, cover his wounds and press hard."

Another of Aegon's Kingsguard came quickly to their aid as Daenerys quickly fingered her cloak chain, trying to take it off. She picked up her Valyrian steel dagger and cut the fabric free. She then did as instructed the moment Aegon's armor was taken off and a splash of blood shot at the two Kingsguard. Aegon yelled out in pain, even when Daenerys pressed her cloak down on his wound.

A guttural cry made Daenerys turn her head to see Ser Creighton Redfort stabbed in the neck with a broken halberd. Everyone around Aegon was focused on tending to him that they didn't know that a wight was coming straight for them.

It was a moment that just happened, without even thinking. Daenerys moved away from Jon and picked up her dagger. The Valryian steel almost glowed as she darted forward and stabbed the wight just a second before it would have struck her down. A squeal escaped the creature of the dead and the blue glow from its eyes faded into nothing.

When the wight's body fell, Daenerys almost froze, panting at what she just did. She never fought before. A second too slow and she would have just died now.

But there was no time to think any longer and the remaining wights were unrelenting. Daenerys picked up the rusty halberd and held it aloft at another wight that slipped through. She thrust the point of the halberd into the wights body and pushed with all her strength. Had the wight attacking her not been mostly a skeleton with hardly any flesh remaining, she wouldn't have held strong. The wight was knocked down and she plunged her dagger into the wight's chest, killing it.

"Over there!" one of the flame swordsman called out. Daenerys looked far off where shapes darted back and forth between the trees. When they got closer, she could see that the shapes were wolves, at least a dozen of them, but one of them was bigger, huge like Aegon's. It was a Direwolf.

The wolfpack snarled and attacked the wights, giving the opening needed to push back and annihilate the rest. The direwolf ripped through the bloated head of a head in one bite, crushing it like it was cheese.

The last of the wights attempted to flee, but the brotherhood and the wolves caught up and destroyed every last one.

The direwolf turned its head at Daenerys, looking at her with bared teeth but then suddenly calmed down. Without a second thought, the pack rushed off back into the trees. What kind of wolves were those?

"What do we do now?" Daenerys asked in haste, dropping the halberd and returning to Aegon's side.

"We get him to Harrenhal," Beric said as he undid his belt. "Lift him up," he told the other Kingsguard and wrapped the belt under and over Aegon. Beric was not gently tightening it, and it made Aegon scream out louder.

Daenerys found the hem of her dress grabbed by Aegon and she grabbed his arm. Her hand then found its way into his, holding it firmly as he did hers. But then his grip softened and he stopped making sound. Her breath hitched. Was he dead?

"He's out cold," the other Kingsguard said. "He needs a maester, now." He looked up at Daenerys. "Can you take him to Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal?" asked Daenerys. "I thought it was abandoned after the war."

"Baelish kept a skeleton staff there," The leader of the Northmen said, "including a maester. Can you get him there?" Daenerys looked back at her dragons who were all just emerging from the water and shaking themselves dry.

"Bring him with me." Daenerys called Drogon to her and with a fast and nearly clumsy effort, they managed to mount the dragon. Daenerys at the ready to fly, and Beric behind her holding Aegon down. "Sōvētēs, Drogon!" Drogon seemed to sense the delicateness of his passengers, taking off more carefully than he normally would. The flight was still a fierce thing despite the swiftness of the journey. The castle wasn't far from the lake, and there was a single courtyard.

Drogon swooped down, the might of his tremendous form landing shook the ground and rumbled over the terrified screams of the few onlookers who were present to see a dragon in their presence.

"Calm yourselves!" Daenerys called out over the people. "Your King has been wounded! Where is the maester of this castle?" Beric was doing his best to get down with Aegon while waiting for some form of response from the people but they were still frozen with awe and fear. Drogon let out a sudden roar that broke the people out of their stances and rushed around.

Three men appeared soon after, one in robes and a maester's chain dangling from his neck and two men armed with spears and shields empty of a sigil.

Daenerys climbed down from Drogon. When she touched the ground, she sent her dragon back into the sky. Beric was off into the castle with the maester and the soldiers. "You there!" she called to the shorter of the two guards. "There was a battle on the western side of the lake. Many are dead and others are wounded. They need aid as fast as possible."

The soldier looked hesitant for some reason, but it wasn't too hard to guess why. Why should a man obey a foreign queen?

"Send some men, damn you!" Beric shouted back.

"Um… as you say."

The hours that followed were tense. Soon after Aegon was brought up to the Lord's solar, screams began to echo throughout the halls of the castle. One would think the ghosts of Harren the Black and his sons had come to haunt the dark corridors.

By the time things calmed down, the host of fighters from the battle had been brought to the castle. But there were so few left from how many began. Twenty eight men had died, two of them were of the Kingsguard.

The Brotherhood without Banners remained with the Red Priest in their ranks to give rites and burials. Columns of smoke rose high on the horizon where the battle was. The bodies of those who fell were burned, as were those of the Caraxes and Quicksilver. Once they had been slain, their flesh was now susceptible to dragonfire.

Ser Beric and Ser Wallace met with Daenerys outside the room in which Aegon was resting.

"Some of the dragon's bone got lodged in his flesh," Ser Beric informed, "The maester said his blood might be infected enough that he could succumb and die. His medicine's made him lucid through the pain. All we can do is wait."

This angered Daenerys greatly, far more than she expected to feel. She had been at the mercy of a monster, she could have lost her life, and yet Aegon, her rival for the throne, risked his life to save her at the possible cost of his. Why did he have to be so foolish, so stubborn, so risky… so selfless and brave?

"Queen Daenerys," Ser Wallace said in a low, somber tone, "You left before you could have seen what happened to the bronze dragon."

"Viserion?" Her heart rose into her throat. "What happened to my child?"

Ser Wallace paused before answering. "The monster in the water managed to sever his left foot."

Daenerys stepped back, a reaction to catch herself from falling. It wasn't a fatal wound, but it brought forth an uncomfortable truth. Her children had always reflected invincibility to her now that they have reached a gargantuan size. But even as powerful as they are, vulnerability still exists.

"Your dragon's are smart, your grace. The green one stood over the bronze like a guard, and when he saw one of the crannogmen treat another's wound with fire, he did the same to the leg. It caused a damn terrifying tantrum if I say so."

That was miraculous to hear… but also unbelievable. How could a dragon understand to do something like that? Nevertheless, who knows what damage an untreated wound like that could do to a dragon? Whatever it was it would be a first that Daenerys would hear but not something she wanted to ponder about. "We are my dragons now?"

"Last I saw the big ones, they were keeping to themselves by the lake. Some of the Crannogmen and brotherhood are staying to keep people away and put out the fires."

Well at least she knew where they were. "Thank you for your diligence, Ser." I'll see them myself before the hour is up. But if it is not too much trouble, might I have a few minutes with King Aegon? I'd like to thank him for saving my life."

Ser Wallace held the door open for her. "We'll be outside if you need anything."

She crossed into the room and found the works of the maester cleaned up. She was glad not to find piles of bloody rags or a mess of ointments and salves. There was only a bandaged man resting easily.

Daenerys sat next to Aegon's bed, looking at him as he rested on his front, leaving the wound undisturbed. A cold breeze came from the window. The snow was coming down harder now. She went over to it and drew the curtain, closing off the breeze.

"Davos?" a voice croaked, "is that you?"

Daenerys turned and saw that Aegon was still as he was. "It's me," she announced.

"Dany?" The sound of her name with Viserys surprised her, especially how tender it sounded. "Is something wrong?"

"Are you feeling better?" She asked as she returned to her seat.

A sound that might have been a chuckle came more like a groan. "I've never been better without you at my side."

Daenerys smiled in amusement. Just what type of medicine was he given? "You look worse than you sound right now. The maester said you might grow ill from a rotten bone being lodged in you after the fight. I never imagined a battle with the undead to terrify me so much."

"What are you on about?" he said in hushed words. "The wights haven't come close to getting me like that."

Her brow rose, leaning forward. Daenerys' mouth opened to correct him in his drugged state, but something stopped her. "Well… you're safe now. Just a nasty scar."

Aegon chuckled weakly, hooded lids opening just a tad before closing again. "I know it must've been a shock… seeing the scars. Proof I was dead."

His death… to this day Daenerys didn't know the true story. Till now she didn't wish to know and subject herself to that pain, but a part of Daenerys was morbidly curious and it won out. "How… how did it happen again?" she croaked, voice halting. "You… never told me completely."

"Hm… not something I like to remember." There was a silence, his back sluggishly rising up and down. "I… I let the wildlings south of the wall."

"I know that."

"My brothers… the Night's Watch, some were angry… and some stabbed me in the heart and left me to die in the snow."

Daenerys gasped without thinking, hand covering her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. It was one thing to know about his resurrection… a whole different thing to see the manifestation of it in the flesh.

Then her eyes drifted to his lips. They looked chapped, but she remembered how soft they really were and the small taste she had when he kissed her in the gardens of the Red Keep. That kiss, it wasn't like one from Daario when he was smothering her in passion. It was something honest, pure, and strangely familiar. It wasn't like finding a familiar scent from years ago. Her body didn't recognize the feeling, but her heart did.

"You could have let me die," she said, ignoring the lucid effects Aegon was under, "your problems would have been gone if you just kept silent. Why do you have to be so… sacrificing for everyone else?"

"Dany…" Jon's eyes cracked open a spider's thread. His hand slid over to her and held it softly. "I love you… more than I've known I could. I don't care what the others say. You are not mad. You are everything to me."

Her mouth was open in shock. "What?"

"You… I couldn't feel anything but the cold of death after I came back… until you. Until you came in my life and I cannot go back to that. I cannot lose you." Weakly, he reached for her, Daenerys letting him grip her fingers. He then tried to lift himself up, but could only shift his body a little before slumping back into the bed. "Oh… I feel like I have no bones and my skin's made of stone. Heh, I'd kiss you if I could. Might I trouble you for one, Dany?"

Of course not. Even on medicines making him delirious and lucid, this wasn't the time for that. And yet she didn't say what her mind said. Her body responded differently. She was leaning down, inching closer and closer to him. By the time she comprehended and could control herself, Daenerys decided to go with it and gently brushed her lips against his.

It was just like she remembered in the gardens. His touch invoked a spark in her that she could not describe in words except that it was a great familiarity to her, one that she loved and longed for.

She broke the kiss and her lips were tingling with sensations that made her lightly touch them with the tips of her fingers. Why was this so familiar to her? And why did it feel so right?

"You have the softest lips I've ever known," Jon whispered with a small smile on his face. This was the first one Daenerys had seen him do that looked real, without a ghost of sorrow holding onto him. "A seductress… one kiss and I was lost."

Blinking, Daenerys closed her eyes. This… he can't be referring to just me. Family though they were, whatever feelings may have bubbled underneath the surface couldn't have led to such a deep connection as he was mumbling in his delirious state. They hadn't spent such time together to develop such love. Perhaps… It was clear he had others. Jon could've been mixing their feelings with his love for a past lover.

While it seemed somewhat violating to her, Daenerys' curiosity won the day. "Might I ask you something?"

"Mmm… yes, love?"

Her cheeks flushed a slight color. "Um… Will you tell of the last woman you loved before me?" she asked.

Aegon grew still, or more so than he already was. "She was a wilding. Her name was Ygritte. She-"

"No, not her. I mean the woman you loved after her."

Eyes cracked open and looked at Daenerys with the smallest hints of confusion. "What do you mean, Dany? I've known no other after Ygritte until you."

Daenerys' face twisted in confusion. He was completely sincere in his tone. "You told me there was someone I reminded you of, someone you loved even when you had to…" Something stopped her from finishing, the words were caught in her throat.

"Believe me," he said with another squeeze of her hand, "there is no one you remind me of that compares."

This made no sense. Daenerys first thought the medicine was making him more lucid than she first thought, her second thought made her think that he had lied to her about the woman he so greatly loved and killed, but her third thought reminded her of how heartbroken he was whenever he spoke of her. It was too genuine to be a lie.

Maybe it was the medicine after all. But did it create feelings, or simply expose those hidden like drink did?

"And…" Aegon continued, "if we live through the attack… will you marry me?"

A tear slipped from Daenerys' eye. Damn these medicines. Why must they make him say such things? "Ask me when you wake up and I'll think about it."

"Oh… is this a dream?"

"Might as well be," Daenerys said with a shake of her head only to feel Aegon's hold tighten.

"Then it is a good dream…" He went still with only the rising and falling of his back indicating movement.

Daenerys was able to slip her hand out of Aegon's hold once his grip relaxed. She got up and made to leave, but stopped at the door. She looked back with a heavy weight on her heart. Despite his political skills being far under hers, he kept proving more and more that he had a greater right to be King atop the Iron Throne. It was starting to make her question what she was really seeking. Did she want the throne for the throne's sake, or did she want it for her family's sake? Shouldn't she be content with the latter?

And why did the things he said have to sound so authentic? Why did a part of her want to believe him? 'Aegon Targaryen… my brave nephew…'

A pair of knocks came from the door before it creaked open. Daenerys met the face of one of the brotherhood warriors. A balding man in dirty red robes. "Your grace," He greeted, stepping inside with Ser Beric.

"This is my friend Thoros," Beric introduced, "the priest who brought me back."

"I've heard of you," Daenerys said. "Lady Melisandre mentioned your feats with the Brotherhood."

Thoros nearly snorted. "No feats at all, just prayers for my friend. That's all they ever were." He walked over to Aegon's bedside and kneeled down. He leaned over Aegon's body, placing his hands near the wound.

"What's he doing?" Daenerys asked.

"Nothing. But through him, the Lord of Light's power can do wonders." When Beric finished speaking, a hush quiet overtook the room. The only noise made were the subtle words of Thoros' prayer.

"Lord, cast your light upon this man, your son. Cleanse the dark spell that death has cast upon him. His flame flickers in the storm, ignite it." He repeated the words over and over.

The scene was not one would think a holy one. A ragged priest wreaking of wine sounding frantic and desperate in his prayers over a wounded king.

Aegon suddenly winced and moaned. The bandages on his back ignited in flames.

"No!" Daenerys stepped forward, instinct telling her to put out the fire, but her arm was grabbed and held tight.

"Wait," Beric hissed.

Aegon's fingers curled into fists, clenching the sheets of his bed. His teeth gritted and the flames on his back burned the wrappings down to his wound. The moment his skin was touched by the fire, the flames ignited in a bright red. Daenerys gasped at the sight, but Ser Beric was unphased and Thoros kept muttering his prayer over and over.

"By the gods," a voice whispered. Daenerys turned her head to see Ser Jorah, Ser Wallace, and the castellan of Harrenhal watching with eyes fixed on the sight before them.

Suddenly, the red glow in the room faded. Daenerys looked back and the flames were gone, and the wound on Aegon's back was sealed with a scar. He was panting, but no longer tense.

Thoros stood up and pulled the furs over Aegon before silently walking over to the spectating crowd. "The Lord's will is done. Let him rest now."

Daenerys hadn't noticed when Ser Beric realized his grip, only that he did and she was the last one to leave. But she knew she wasn't the only one questioning what she just witnessed. She never had any faith in the Old Gods, the New Gods, or any. But she couldn't deny what just happened before her. Despite seeing the dead, the scars, there was always a part of her deep down that doubted the incredible claims of Aegon and Beric being brought back from death. But now, that part of her was forever gone.