Hardhome 300 AC.
Mance.
For almost a month they'd prepared and Mance had never seen the Free Folk work this way. Each of the clans listened to the instructions that the prince and his red priest gave them and then hurried off to see them done. Even he himself the King Beyond the Wall took orders and did as he was bid. To save his people he'd do whatever was needed and they needed the prince and his dragon. Watching as the dragon flew over the ground and laid down flames, so they could dig trenches and fill them with spikes covered in edged Dragonglass, Mance was amazed.
From the gates of Hardhome almost right up to the forest ahead of them, rows of trenches had been dug and filled with spikes. Thoros telling him that they needed to be apart so that when the dead came and after they'd fallen and filled one trench, they'd still have the others to get past. He watched as fat from the pigs and other animals was collected and coated on spikes to be placed under the cliffs. Mance having no idea why they'd wish to do such a thing but feeling they knew best.
Outside the gates it was empty, barren, the rows of tents and swarms of people that made up the Free Folk were all inside now. What they'd found in the caves not just giving them room to shelter but Mance knew it had also given them hope for the future. Should they survive this, then not only would their agreement with the prince give them peace but what Daemon had found would help them prosper. Mance smiling as he remembered seeing it for himself the first time.
" You need to follow me, Mance." Daemon said.
" Where?"
" The caves."
" We don't go into the dark places." Dalla said.
" Mance, you need to see." Tormund said.
He followed them to the caves, people looking at them as they entered and then Mance looking on in amazement when the prince's swords lit up. The Dragonglass was everywhere and the deeper he went in he began to see the gems and metals, shaking his head in disbelief as he looked to the prince.
" Is this?"
" Gold, silver, iron, gems, your people are wealthy Mance."
" What use do we have for this?" Tormund asked looking at him.
" We can buy things with this old friend, things we need, trade, with the South and the North." he said looking to Daemon who smirked.
" Your people are rich as the Lannisters," Daemon said and even Tormund smiled at that.
They walked further in and he felt the warmth, the hot springs making the inside of the caverns almost not to need a fire.
" Close your eyes and when I tell you to open them don't look at the swords." Daemon said and he did as he was bid "Open them."
When he did the cavern they were in was revealed properly, it was huge, hundreds maybe even thousands could stay in here. If it could be protected then it would beat being outside. More so considering the warmth and comfort it offered also. He looked to Daemon who was smiling and he couldn't help but not do the same thing.
" Is there no other way in?" he asked and Daemon shook his head.
" No we checked, if we put torches up, we can add light, let the people see from themselves, I can help with that. We put enough warriors in here to protect the front and arm everyone with Dragonglass and I have one other thing I can use which will stop the dead from entering." Daemon said.
He still shook his head at what Daemon had shown him, while most of his people believed the old gods had sent the prince to them, Mance knew the truth. Only a god of fire could have gifted someone so and he was happy his gods and Daemon's seemed to be on the same side. Something though he'd found more than strange since the prince had arrived was the lack of birds that now flew over their camp, other than those belonging to the wargs that was.
He'd asked the prince about it and found he'd no answer to it either, Daemon instead looking to his aunt who refused to speak on it. As for his aunt, the woman was stranger than any woman he'd ever met, which given some of them was saying a lot. She was quiet and kept to herself, rarely walking around the camp unless it was with Daemon or Thoros. At first, Mance had thought the woman to be afraid of being stolen, though she'd soon made clear that was not it when she'd almost gutted a man for trying.
But the woman seemed almost as if she was watching, waiting for something and it unnerved him at times. He didn't wish to think about what it was she was watching and waiting for and only hoped that she could give them some warning as to when they'd arrive. Until then they continued their preparations, they hunted, gathered their wood for fires so they'd not need to do so when the dead came. Their people found the caves both to be warm and welcoming, where before they'd only ever seen them as foreboding.
"How long?" Tormund asked as they sat around the fire one night, a heavy day's work behind them.
"Less than a week." Daemon said looking deeply into the fire as he was oft to do.
"You're sure?" Mance asked.
"Less than a week." Thoros said and Mance nodded to them both.
"In five days look to their coming, look to the North." Shiera said and Mance turned to her and saw she wore no expression, showed no emotion, she simply had spoken before quieting once more.
"Five Days, we'll be ready." Daemon said and Mance said a prayer to his gods hoping he was right.
Hardhome 300 AC.
Thoros.
The preparations had gone well enough, the trenches were all dug and lined, the walls had been reinforced, or as reinforced as wooden walls could be. They'd sent scouts out and both Daemon and Shiera had looked North, Thoros finding it hard to make sense of the fact that Shiera was now an even stronger warg than Daemon. Three days had passed since Shiera had told them they had five and they'd since found the army heading their way to confirm it. Which meant that their efforts had doubled and become more frantic day by day. Thoros going over his work over and over to make sure he'd done all he could.
In the caves, the people had taken in the stocks of food along with extra wood to and soft moss to line the cave's floor and make their beds. Most of them seemed far happier and those who could not fight had taken to do whatever they could to help. They gathered the Dragonglass and made arrows with crude arrowheads. Women would cook and bring food to their husbands, brothers, fathers, any who needed it as they worked on the defenses.
Children too weren't idle, most working with the other children who fascinated them, and collecting acorns, and making slings. Thoros finding himself smiling often when he looked at Leaf and her brethren as they interacted with the young Free Folk children. They may be separated by gods knew how many years but there was an innocence about them that the Free Folk children shared and it created a kinship of sorts. As for himself, he'd found his own kinship amongst these people, just as he had with Drogo and Qotho, Cohollo and Haggo, or with Rakharo when they'd stayed with the Dothraki.
He sat with Styr and Sigorn, the Thenn's being who he worked with and spent most of his time with, each day he'd been here only bringing them closer. Thoros found he respected the Thenn leader, their organization, and order being a welcome change for the controlled chaos that Daemon had to deal with daily. All he'd asked for had been done, trenches dug, spikes lined, Weirwood archers gathered and formed into a group. These men had taken the Dragonglass and each one always wore a weapon formed from it of some sort. Axes, spears, knives, arrowheads, they may not have been able to forge them, but it mattered not, they managed to use them all the same.
"You look deep in thought my friend?" Styr said from beside him.
"I suppose I am a bit." he said with a chuckle.
"You worry?" Styr asked.
"Of the fight? No, the wait, aye."
"When I was a young boy my father told me the waiting for the battle is the toughest time. The battle itself brings but one thought, win. Lose and you die and so when you fight all you can think about is that one single thing, to win. But in the waiting, your mind is free, many thoughts enter and you begin to worry about things that in the end don't' matter."
"Your father sounds like he was a smart man." he said raising his horn to his friend who did likewise.
"He was and he won far more than he lost. I fear for my people, for my son, for those I know and think highly of, I fear for them all. But that fear is not what it once was, Thoros of Myr."
"No?"
"No. I hope too, I may fall in this battle, it may be my day and nothing anyone can do will stop that from happening should it come to pass. No man can challenge a god's will, my friend." Styr said raising his horn and taking a swallow "But should it be so then I will go to my father and be welcome among the other Magnar's, I'll go and look them all in the eye and be able to do so with pride."
"Why?" he asked confused.
"Because my people will live and I'll have played my part as their Magnar, there can be no greater good than that." Styr said slapping him on the back as he got up and walked away.
Thoros got up himself and continued on with his day's work. The spikes were ready under the cliff and coated with the fat, the pits had been dug and spiked also. He looked to see Leaf and the children, their own day's work seemed over and the children listened on as Twig told stories which soon had them all smiling happily. Heading back to his tent he saw Tormund walking alone, no sign of Daemon anywhere and a worried look on the large man's face.
"Tormund?"
"Thoros." the man shouted back in greeting, looking a little happier now.
"What's wrong?" he asked concernedly.
"Daemon, he says he must fly, towards them, towards the cold ones." Tormund said his worry for the prince clear in his tone.
"He's left?" he asked and Tormund shook his head.
Leaving the man where he was, he hurried to where Lyanax had made her lair, finding to his relief his prince was still there and was speaking to the dragon. That Daemon was about to fly was clear and he liked it not, something that his prince picked up on almost immediately.
"You coming or what?" Daemon said and despite his worry, he quickly found himself laughing.
"Don't try and tell me you always planned to bring me with you?"
"I had not, but I'm glad you're here, come let's get a look, a proper look at these blue eyes that we're to shut."
He climbed up on Lyanax's back and they took to the air, Thoros seeing a large crowd of Free Folk looking up and pointing. That they flew north instead of south was perhaps the only reason that Daemon's actions didn't cause a panic. When he'd gotten used to the wind hitting them and realized the noise wasn't as loud as it could sometimes be when they flew, he asked Daemon why they were doing this.
"Lyanax felt something, she wishes to see it for herself and I'd rather be with her than not. We'll fly high, Thoros, don't be concerned" Daemon said as they headed further north.
It was an easy thing to say, don't be concerned. How many times over the years had he heard that from his prince and how many times did it end up with them fighting for their lives? He dared not try to count that high, instead hoping that perhaps this time would be different.
Hardhome 300 AC.
Shiera.
That Brynden had lived with this inside him explained everything to her. Even though her carrying this power was only temporary she could feel it working in her, changing her and she knew in time it would consume her. Brynden was as magical as she was and yet the power had devoured every piece of natural magic he had and replaced it with an unnatural one.
It seemed to feed off the magic inside her and she wondered if when the time came and she passed the power on, what of her would remain. Would she be like an empty vessel? Would she not feel as she did, her own magic's sucked away and lost to her? If so would time catch up with her more quickly than it should? It had caused her to look into herself, to seek answers to her problems far more than she should, yet she could help it not.
The old god's domain was like the North itself, cold, unforgiving, and not welcoming to those who didn't have the blood of the North within them. She walked into the grove though unafraid and eager to find the answers that she needed, answers that in a way made her fearful. Despite what Brynden had said, what the voice in her head had said, she worried for Daemon's child. Far more now than she had when she'd heard from both on the child the first time.
Then she'd not felt her own magic's being stripped away, consumed as if they were a tasty meal. She'd not felt as if she was being eaten from the inside and losing herself each day that she carried the weight of what she was now. A vessel for a power that she didn't understand and could barely control. She instead had accepted what she'd been told as the truth, Daemon's child like he would control this power in a way that no one else could. Yet now she wasn't so sure it was the truth and she worried for the nephew she'd not yet met and for herself also.
" Why have you come here?" A voice called out.
" This is not where you should be"
" Your path is elsewhere."
Three voices and then she saw them, children, just like Leaf and yet different also, they came from the trees and she watched as they looked at her, their expressionless faces not enough to hide their anger.
" We did not give you a gift so you could waste it so."
" We do not give you our power so you can use it selfishly."
" Our people you must help not yourself."
She glared at them angrily, her green and blue eyes showing the depth of the ill will she bore them.
" A gift, you call what you did to me a gift? To have this… this power inside of me, this power I did not ask for nor want? You call it a gift when I can feel it eating me away, feel it stripping me of who I am?" she said her voice loud.
" Not eating, changing." the first voice said.
" Replacing bad with the good."
" Removing the unclean."
Shiera wasn't sure if they were deliberately trying to get under her skin, but she felt the anger wash over her once more.
" Take it back, I do not want it and I'll not pass it to my nephew's child, take it back or I'll bring about my own end and leave you with no way to pass the power on. Take it back or lose it forever."
One of the children moved towards her, his hand raised up and she looked at him thinking he was coming to do as she had asked. When he reached out to touch her, she allowed him, and then she felt his cold hand on her skin.
Her eyes opened and she was still sitting in her tent just as she had been and she could feel it inside her still. It was still eating way, still stripping who she was from her. She reached down to her side and took out her knife, they may have thought her bluffing but they'd find out that she was anything but.
" Look to the future, Shiera the Star of the Sea, look to the future and see your own and Aemon's, see what he will become and what you will be." the voice said and the knife in her hand fell to the ground.
Shiera closed her eyes and looked again, seeing the future that they were so desperate to show her. She watched it unfold in front of her eyes, Aemon, Daemon's third son seemed happy and content, his silver hair and green eyes sparkling as he walked with a raven on his shoulder, as he reached out and stroked the Direwolf's fur and as he sat and closed his eyes. Once he did so she then heard a much different voice from the gods or any she'd heard before, younger but sounding wiser than men of thrice his age.
"It's good to finally meet you this way aunt, I've been waiting to since you told me we would and we have so much to speak on." Aemon Targaryen said and Shiera felt a sense of relief come over her.
The Far North 300 AC.
Daemon.
She had called him and he went to her immediately, Lyanax actually desperate to see him. Tormund hurried with him and looked worried which he tried to calm him about, only to find that he could not do so as well as he usually could. His own worry at being summoned by Lyanax was obviously clear in his face or voice. Once they reached her, she told him they had to go North, they had to see and so he'd explained it to an even more worried Tormund now.
He was glad when Thoros arrived, glad to have company on this ride, and soon enough they had set off. Just like Thoros he too had seen the Free Folk looking worriedly to the sky and had wished he could do or say something to relieve their concerns, but he had a much larger one on his mind. Whatever it was on Lyanax's mind he couldn't be sure, only that she wanted him to see something and that something was far to the north.
They flew for hours and he was thankful it had been early enough in the day when they had set off. As it was they'd not make it back before nightfall or maybe not even until the morrow. Something that would no doubt only increase the Free Folk's concerns. It was Lyanax's voice in his head which alerted him to their presence, the dead men marching underneath him almost unable to be seen from this high up.
"There." he said to Thoros and they both looked down at the enormous army that marched their way.
"By R'hllor." Thoros said shocked at the sheer size of the force that was coming to face them.
Seeing them in the flames was one thing, seeing them march in an endless wave was another. He felt the urge to take Lyanax lower, to set her flames upon them, and watch them feel a dragon's power. His dragon however was not so keen, instead flying further north. How long they flew for he didn't know but when he saw it Daemon couldn't believe what was in front of his eyes.
The keep was covered in ice, its walls, its battlements, and parapets, its towers all covered in ice as were the lands surrounding it. Lyanax circled it once, twice, three times, Daemon looking down at it and seeing just how large it was. It was far bigger than Dragonstone or the Red Keep, far larger than any keep he'd ever seen other than perhaps Harrenhal. As he looked Lyanax let forth her flames and both he and Thoros watched as the ice beneath them melted away to reveal stone as dark as night.
"Dragonglass?" Thoros shouted.
It was but it seemed different too, harder, less brittle than the Dragonglass they'd been using. He'd seen it before too, Dragonstone's Citadel was made of this and he was certain that he'd read that the base of the Hightower too had been wrought from this stone. He looked on as the ice reformed over the walls, as in mere moments Lyanax's flames seemed to have never landed on the keep at all.
She turned back and soon they were flying south, Daemon trying to make sense of what it was she was so desperate to show them. Were it just the keep then it could have waited until the fight was done and while he'd welcomed seeing the army for himself, it wasn't' really necessary. There was something he was missing and try as he might he could not figure out what that was.
It was long past darkness falling when they arrived back at the camp, Daemon surprised to see so many Free Folk who were almost having a vigil outside Lyanax's lair. They seemed relieved to see him come back and he looked to see Tormund coming his way. Lyanax quickly taking back to the sky and heading out to the sea to feed as he walked towards the Free Folk chieftain.
"You find them?" Tormund asked and he nodded.
"We found them, come let's eat and we'll talk." he said with a soft smile, hoping to reassure the man somewhat.
The three of them walked to the large fire, Daemon feeling his hunger rise with each step and he was more than pleased to see the bowl of broth in Val's hands when he took his seat. Thoros ate as hungrily as he did, the warmth and the large chunks of fish and meat most welcome.
"How far?" Tormund asked when he'd finished.
"They'll be here as Shiera said, the day after the morrow." he said.
"As many as we saw?" Val asked.
"As many as we saw, but we're ready for them Val, we're more than ready for them." he said and the blonde nodded.
He looked to Thoros to see that his friend was like him thinking more on the other part of their flight than on seeing the army that was heading their way. They already knew about the dead army, the hidden keep covered in an ice that didn't stay melted, that they didn't know anything about at all. Daemon felt the urge to look into the flames and yet for some reason he did not. He was tried and wished to rest and so after bidding any who were not sleeping a goodnight, he made his way to his tent and did just that.
When he woke the next morning he knew he'd not be able to put it off so easily, especially upon finding Thoros already waiting for him outside his tent. Without saying a word, he looked to his friend and had him follow him, the two of them quickly walking to one of the quieter places in camp. Thoros gathered some wood and Daemon drew Spark, easily setting the wood aflame. He cut his hand once more and let the blood drip into the flames, he and Thoros waiting eagerly for the answers to come.
Lyanax's flames covered the creatures in ice and he watched as the flames at first seemed to end them only for them to come back again and again. He watched as Thoros fought one, his sword aflame and while it forced them back, it didn't end them. His flaming swords however cut them down and down they stayed. Around him others fell to Dragonglass, the blue eyes falling to Lyanax's flames, and then he saw the Ice Keep once again.
The Ice fell away and there was nothing but black stone in its place, the keep standing out like a beacon against the whiteness of its surroundings. Soon the ice and snow which covered them too began to fall away leaving green lands and open fields in their place. Daemon watched as crops grew and then as the snows began to fall once more covering it, only to later fall away yet again. Time, it seemed as if time was passing as if just like with the rest of the North, the lands would cover with snow, and then it would melt away when winter left. Daemon finally understanding that unlike south of the Wall, here time was trapped somehow. The realization dawning that the Lands of Always Winter need not always be that way.
When the flames faded away, he looked to Thoros and saw that he had understood it too, and though showing him the keep still didn't make any sense. Was it for him? For his family? Or was it to be given to Mance and the Free Folk? He found that he didn't know and would ask his god when next they spoke. For now, he had more plans to make and a little over a day in which to make them.
The Battle of Hardhome 300 AC.
Tormund.
They'd eaten well the night before and again this morning when they woke, Daemon telling them that it was almost time. He found himself eager for the battle to begin, not that he had any great desire to fight or that he wasn't worried that he or others would fall. More that he'd far prefer this fight to come in the light of day. It seemed he would get his wish as soon Daemon's aunt was calling and telling them it was time.
He walked with the prince to the caves, his own youngest girls were inside and he bid them farewell, hopefully just for now and not for the final time. Then he watched as Daemon took his two swords and crossed them before sticking them into the ground at the entrance to the first cave. The wall of flames that soon shot up making an unpassable barrier to protect those behind it. The four other caves that their people were in received the same protection and then Tormund watched as the one's closest, the ones they'd not used, received what seemed to be the same and he looked to Daemon in confusion.
"Those ones are different, these flames will let them pass, they just won't let them back out." Daemon said and Tormund laughed.
They made their way down to the others, Tormund seeing Thoros and Styr, the red priest smiling at Daemon when he saw him.
"Cross blades." Daemon said "All of you, cross your blades with the man nearest you."
Tormund took his iron axe, he like every man carried a weapon of Dragonglass, a small knife, but like most, he carried his other weapon too. He looked on as his axe touched Toregg's, as Sigorn's touched Styr's. The Free Folk all lining up to touch metal to metal, bone to bone, and then he looked to Daemon whose hand was still bleeding where he'd cut it.
"Close your eyes." Daemon shouted and as one they did as they were bid.
When he opened his, he almost dropped the axe to the ground, some people being less lucky or more shocked than he, did just that with their own weapons. Looking around he could see hundreds, thousands of blades covered in fire, the flames burning brightly and he looked to the prince to see him down on one knee with his head bowed. Tormund almost joined him, as did others but a shake of the head from Thoros kept him on his feet.
Whatever Daemon was saying he couldn't hear, the words were spoken softly, and then as he looked he swore he saw shadows move. Blinking his eyes he looked again and Daemon seemed to be placing a chain back on his neck, three stones as red as the blood on his hand connected to it, and then that too was gone. He moved towards him only to see Mance walk his way, his king carrying a flaming sword and then he felt a chill and looked to the north.
Val.
Her curved sword was aflame and she and others looked at their weapons with shock on their faces. All she'd done was touch her blade to Jarl's and watched as it lit up, as it and every blade in the camp lit up. She had wanted to cheer, to shout loudly that this was a sign from the gods, theirs or Daemon's she cared not. Only that fire killed the cold ones and they had the fire on their side.
Leaf drew her attention back to her position though. She and others were to guard the children and the others who'd be using their slings to fire the acorns. She had thought that every sling they'd use would be needed for this but had found that Daemon had other ideas. Those in the caves had the rest, that and broken up Dragonglass to aim, jagged pieces that would easily break through dead flesh and maybe even ice should it be needed.
Leaf pointed to the north and she could feel the cold coming in, they were coming and coming now. She grabbed Jarl and kissed him deeply, looking on as others who were fighting side by side with their lovers did the same. Those who were not had said their farewells to their loved ones the night before and promised to see them soon. Some she knew would not be able to keep that promise and she hoped it was not all.
"Should I fall, protect my sister and her babe." Val said to Jarl as she kissed him one more time.
"Should I fall, then know I was happy to have stolen you." he said back.
"I stole you." she said in reply.
"Happy for that then." he said and she smiled as she looked to see Mance walk by.
He nodded at her and then she watched as he said something to Daemon, the prince turning to look them all over and speak and Val was sure there were shadows around him. She blinked once or twice to be certain and then she found she was not seeing them as clearly as she just had.
"Our enemy comes today and today we turn him back. We end his threat here and now, you, me, your king, my dragon, all of us will look death in the eye and say to it but two words. Not Today" Daemon said loudly.
"Not today." she said loudly before Daemon continued.
"You are Free Folk, you do not kneel, not even to the cold ones. Not even under the pain of death do you fall to your knees, instead, you look it straight in the eye and you say, Not Today."
"Not Today." she shouted, more and more of their people now shouting loudly also.
"For your king, for your people, for those you love, that's why you fight. One day your courage may fail you, one day you may be too old, too ill or too grey to wield your weapon proudly and face down those who seek your end. But that day is many years from now. That day is one that when it comes you can stand and still be proud because of what you did this day. To that day we say but one thing, that day is Not Today." Daemon said holding his two swords aloft.
"Not Today." she screamed out at the top of her lungs, the Free Folk shouting louder than she had ever heard them.
Val looked out as the dragon landed and Daemon mounted it, as he looked to them and then took to the sky, and as the dragon flew it roared. She like the others watched as the dragon flew north and then they saw the flames spew from its mouth. The ground off in the distance being covered in a flame she'd never seen the like of before and as one they cheered once more.
Daemon.
He said his words and took to the sky, the shadows all behind him and briefly, he wondered what it felt like to Lyanax. Did she even feel them there? Did a shadow actually weigh anything at all? He cleared his mind and soon enough found the army beneath him. The time for thinking was done, the time for speaking was over, it was time to fight.
"Dracarys." he said and Lyanax bathed the ground in her flames.
He flew on and she did so again and then he heard the crash behind him, he turned and looked as one of the shadows used his greatsword to swat something away. What it was he didn't know but they flew further and she let her flames loose again and again. Beneath him countless dead men burned and yet they kept coming. On and on he flew, Lyanax's flames covering the ground and then he turned back again upon hearing the crash once more.
This time when he looked back he was lucky enough to see what it was, the ice spear having been thrown from the ground. Whether it could truly hurt his dragon he wasn't sure but it mattered not. As two more spears came towards him, one was caught with a greatsword and the other with an axe. Both spears falling harmlessly to the ground and Daemon then had Lyanax unleash her flames in the direction they'd came from before he flew back towards the camp.
When he reached it he saw the carnage outside the gates and it was to there he took Lyanax next. Her flames having much more success here and soon enough he felt it was time to let her rest. It was something she didn't agree with but something he felt was needed. Daemon landing near the water and turning to speak to her before he left her alone for now.
" Only fly with them both, I don't know if the spears can harm you and I'll not risk it, two will stay with you, if you fly please take them and be safe." he said as he leaned against the dragon's head.
" You too." she replied and he promised he would.
Once he'd spoken to her, he moved quickly through the masses, the Free Folk were all lined up and ready for the fight to come, and yet it hadn't truly reached them yet. Their traps outside the walls had delayed, killed, trapped most of the dead, and Lyanax's flames had done for the rest, so the camp had yet to be breached. Leaf and the children had used a few of their acorns and they stood by ready to use the rest.
Daemon soon found himself beside Mance, Tormund, Thoros, and Styr, three of them looking at him confusedly and only Thoros seeming to understand.
"The Dragon?" Tormund asked.
"Is resting, she'll come when needed besides it's no fun fighting up there, my blades need action too." he said with a chuckle, before slapping the man on the back "Unless you don't want to fight beside me?"
The laugh he got back from Tormund and the others was a forced one but it was one all the same. He knew they'd much prefer to see the dragon fly than not, but this would be a long day and Lyanax would wear herself out before the end of it if they weren't careful. Whatever true thoughts they had though were quietened for now as Thoros pointed and he looked to the ridge.
"Arrows." Thoros shouted and the flaming arrows flew just as the dead began to fall.
They couldn't have timed it any better, the arrows set the fat on fire just before the dead hit the spikes, the trench lighting up as soon as the second arrow hit it. Daemon looked on as countless dead began to burn where they'd fallen and then as wave upon wave more fell on top of them. How many burned before they smothered out the fire he didn't know but soon enough it was out. All of them looking on as the dead who fell onto the bodies of other dead men soon rose and were coming their way.
Quick like a shadow from a fading sun
Fierce like a Dothraki charge
Sharp like a scorpions tail
Resolute like an unsullied spear
Lethal as a dragons flame
He said the words and then he ran towards them.
Mance.
Watching the dragon lay down its flames in the distance was reassuring but when it came back and laid them down outside the camp, it was a spectacle he'd remember for the rest of his life. The sheer volume of flames, of the dead that the dragon burned, was a number he couldn't count to. That his men had cheered it was no great surprise, though seeing it land had been.
He understood the dragon would need to rest and would fly once more, though he had hoped it wouldn't have been so soon. Daemon though seemed to know what he was doing and he was glad to have the prince fight beside him. When he then saw the flaming arrow hit the spikes, saw as the flames caught and the dead burned he felt relief. Something that was not to last long, as he watched on as more and more dead just fell until the flames were no more.
Looking to Daemon he saw the prince nod, speak some words and then run forward, Mance seeing the shadows seem to come alive around him as he did. Soon, he, Thoros, and Tormund and so many others were running too, the dead rising to their feet to meet them. By the time he reached them, Daemon was already in the thick of things. The prince moving far faster than any man he'd ever seen, as his two flaming swords cut down dead man after dead man. Mance looked to see others fall too, dead men who received no blow, or at least not one from any blade that he could see.
Not that he had too much time to think about it as soon enough his own blade was connecting with dead flesh. The flames on his sword took hold and he watched as a dead man burned, as a head was taken when he swung and around him more and more of the dead began to fall. He felt rather than seen him, turning to block the icy blade before it could take off his head and the thing he found himself facing almost caused him to piss his britches.
"MANCE." a shout rang out and then he looked on as it fell to the ground when it was tackled from behind.
Where Tormund had come from he didn't know, but he like others seemed to almost stop as they saw the explosion of ice that came from where he and the White Walker fought, and then Tormund was on the ground alone. He looked to see the black blade in his friend's hand and he took his free hand to help him to his feet.
"Are you two just going to stand around shaking hands, there are more of them you know?" he heard Daemon jape and he laughed as did the prince, all too soon finding there were more than enough of them to go around.
Leaf.
Wave upon wave of them came their way, those with the slings were doing well and she and her brothers and sisters aiding them by throwing their own acorns. The explosions rang out across the camp, the fires burning as far as the eye could see. From behind her flaming arrows flew through the sky and landed in the dead as they moved towards them. She then found herself standing with her two Dragonglass daggers in her hands as the acorns began to run out, and soon enough the dead made their way to them.
Leaf spun and caught the dead thing in its throat, the Dragonglass making it crumble to the ground. The next one she caught in the stomach and it too fell. How many she connected with she didn't know but then she heard the high scream and she turned to see that one of her sisters had fallen. Speckle was a youngling, one of the last born and the scream she made at her death was soon joined by six others. Leaf and her brothers and sisters crying out loudly in their grief.
So hurt was she by this that she stopped fighting, her daggers falling to the ground and she to her knees. It would have been the end of her had the one they call Val not killed those who sought her life. The woman shouting at her angrily and though she could not hear the words, there was truly no need for her to do so. Not even that wouldn't have been enough to make her fight on though, instead, it was the second piercing scream she heard which did.
This one was not pain or loss, but fear and Leaf would recognize Twig's voice anywhere. She grabbed her daggers and ran, Val behind her though not as fast as she and so within moments she was way ahead of her. That she was not the only one who'd come was no surprise, Leaf happy to see her brothers and sisters had come too. All of them now standing and looking at the things of ice which moved towards their sister.
"No." she shouted and the two icy things looked her way, a malevolent grin on one of their faces.
"No." her brothers and sisters said and as one they all moved.
Two against one became six against two, Twig's courage bolstered by seeing that they'd come to her aid. The ice creatures, the white walkers, the cold gods, the white shadows, these others were well known to her and her kind. One on one they were a match for them or some of them were at least, two on one and Twig would have fallen, six on two was no real match.
Fast though they were, the children were faster, strong though they were, so was she and her brothers and sisters. Smart though they may think they were, Leaf was smarter, her hand holding the stone and her smile appearing on her face when it was noticed. She saw the white walker look to its companion, the small expression of fear on its face as she drew back and threw the stone, watching as they both turned to get out of the way of the explosion to come.
The stone glanced off the icy shell, the look of confusion now on its face was the last one it would ever bear. Leaf was quick, as was Acorn, and the Dragonglass hit home. The two white walkers exploding in showers of ice and the danger had passed. She heard the cheers around her and looked on as a huge group of dead fell, Acorn, checking that Twig was unhurt and Val finally catching them up.
"We need to finish this." Leaf said and her brothers and sisters moved with her, no longer would they fight separately, they had lost one member of their family today, they'd not lose another.
As they moved she heard the dragon's roar and soon it was in the sky once more. The flames coming down again and Leaf looked up to see that the Prince had taken to the skies again.
Thoros.
He stood back to back with his prince, dead men falling at their feet, some not even getting that far as Daemon's shadows took care of them. What must that look like to others he wondered, seeing men fall to invisible blades, watching heads be removed or men being lifted aloft on spears that weren't there. Though it was both the shadow with the daggers and the one with the arrows that he knew would look strangest of all.
To any who watched, it would look like a dead man was being hit repeatedly by invisible punches. The daggers cutting off pieces of flesh as they moved far quicker than any man could. As for the arrows, watching a dead man run only to see him fly back through the air and land feet away when an invisible arrow hit his chest, must have been an incredible sight.
Thoros felt his arms grow weary, the dead seemed never-ending, more and more coming his way, and his swings growing tired. Looking to the caves he could see that the fires still held steady, any who tried to pass them feeling the warm embrace of their god. None would pass through R'hllor's barrier but Daemon, their god's chosen was the only one who his flames wouldn't burn. He wondered how the traps were working out, what those who thought they'd break the barrier felt once they realized that getting inside was far easier than getting back out.
"Daemon." he shouted and they looked to see Tormund kill one of the ice creatures, dead men falling all around them.
He heard the clash of blades and saw his prince was facing another and he tried to spin to help only to find he too faced one now too. Against its speed, he could barely parry and he knew that it saw him as an easy route to his prince. Thoros doing all he could to ensure that it didn't reach Daemon. When the blade caught his armor and didn't cut through he saw the shocked look on its face. Moving quickly he swung his own sword and then with his other hand he thrust his Dragonglass dagger into its side and he watched it explode and as more dead men fell.
The one Daemon fought was trying to trust it's blade through the gaps in Daemon's armor, though he didn't have the skill or talent for that. Thoros watching as Daemon moved faster than even it did and then using both blades together he took its head. The explosion bringing more and more dead men to the ground. Soon enough the fighting where they were started to ease off and he looked to his prince seeing him nod.
"It's time." Daemon said and he made to follow, Daemon shaking his head "See to the Free Folk, make sure they don't lose."
"Return my prince, make sure you return." he said and Daemon embraced him before he turned and headed to fly with Lyanax.
He was joined moments later by Tormund and Styr, Mance, and Sigorn, all of them looking to him with the same questions on their lips.
"He's gone to end this." he said and then they saw the dragon fly and he closed his eyes and spoke to his god.
Shiera.
They were safe in the caves, safe but worried for those they loved and who for all any of them knew, had already lost their fight. She knew though they had not, so together with Mother Mole they did their best to reassure everyone that the fight was still going on and that they were winning. It was a difficult task and one she gave everything she had to see it done.
The few warriors they had stood near the cave entrance, the wall of fire was holding firm, and any who came near it quickly fell. She looked around at people as they gripped their Dragonglass daggers just in case, wives, sisters, brothers, mothers and fathers, and even much older relatives of those who fought. Daemon had ensured that these people had played their part too, he'd given them tasks to do, and all of them even the children had done them well.
Now the only task that remained to them was to wait and Shiera listened as Mother Mole told stories of Daemon and his dragon that were clearly untrue but that served a purpose. As for her, she closed her eyes and looked outside, eager to see just how close they were to their salvation or doom. The power of the Three-Eyed Raven was hers and though it still concerned her what it may do to her, she'd made some peace with it.
The birds took flight, more than a dozen she'd found and though they were a good distance from Hardhome, they flew quickly. When they reached it, two things were clear, there were less dead than there had been before, much less, and there was far more Free Folk alive than she'd hoped. Looking through the bird's eyes she saw the wide-open spaces where the dead had been beaten. Some Free Folk moving from them to join their companions and help them in their own fights.
She flew closer and saw faces that she recognized, Val, Tormund, Mance, and Thoros but there was no sign of Daemon anywhere. None of the birds could find him or Lyanax and so Shiera flew some of them from Hardhome, taking them north in the hopes she'd find him there. It took her some time to see Lyanax in the air, her flames not being used as she flew far too high and seemed to be watching what was happening below.
Faster and closer she flew and then the pain hit her, her head feeling as if it was ready to explode as her eyes opened.
Shiera looked around the cave and tried to stand up to fetch some water, almost falling to her knees when she felt the pain once more. Hands grabbed her and stopped her from hitting the ground too hard and then someone was holding a mug of water to her mouth and she drank it down greedily. Looking at who it was she was surprised to see it was Mother Mole herself, the older woman looking at her with concern in her eyes.
"Daemon." she said when she could form words once more "Daemon is fighting the last of them."
Daemon.
They flew north and laid down flames on any dead men they saw, finding that even here there were far less of them than there had been. Lyanax though cared not and was fully rested, her flames cutting a swathe through them and to his destination far ahead. He knew he was close when the spears came towards him, two, then three, and the shadows took care of them while Lyanax used her flames to open up a clearer path so he could reach those who threw them.
Daemon could see them, five of them, four like all the others and one not. The dead were denser here as if this was a rearguard protecting their king and he knew then it was nearly done. Once she'd created a large enough gap he had her land, telling her to fly and fly high and not to come back down until it was done. While he was speaking to her more spears came and then the dead did too. Before she took to the sky he watched as Lyanax let her flames loose once more.
This wave of fire was enormous, larger than any he'd ever seen her bring forth ever before. It was to be her last contribution to the fight before she was in the sky once more. As soon as he knew she was safe from the spears, he turned and with the shadows, he formed up for the fight to come. Flame and Spark were in his hands, their light dimmer for now as he'd use it and the true power of the swords once he reached his targets.
Firstly though he needed to deal with the dead who ran his way and he knew he and the shadows were more than up to the task. Daemon looked on as a shadow axe took off a head, as a greatsword then took care of three dead men at once. He saw them be speared, saw arrows hit and daggers cut through them while a longsword moved as quickly as any he'd ever seen. Flame and Spark weren't idle either during this either, his swords a match for any of the shadow blades, more than a match as he knew all too well.
" Show them my light." R'hllor said in his head and Daemon obliged.
This was why he had needed to fight this part alone, not just because he was his god's chosen, his champion, but because no living man who looked upon this light truly would ever see through his eyes again. Were he not held so high in his god's favor then he too would be blinded by it. As it was even the dead seemed to be affected by it and it made his fight to their masters a much easier one.
Two of them came at him at once and he looked to see the leader look at him curiously, then fearfully when the two he'd sent didn't manage to reach him. Two of the shadows had stepped in to face them and they were out of the fight for now. When the other two moved so did the other shadows and it left Daemon face to face with the one who now stood alone.
"It's time for you to go back to the hell your god picked you from." he said and then the light of his blades shone even more brightly.
Flame connected with an icy blade and Daemon blocked a thrust from a dagger with Spark. The dance now having truly begun as he moved and parried before aiming strikes of his own. The Night King was fast, he too carrying the favor of a god but whether it was because his god was more powerful, or that the Night King's hadn't prepared him as well as Daemon's had, Daemon was faster.
Spark connected and Daemon saw a piece of ice fall from the Nigh King's shoulder, Flame barely missed and the Night King moved backward. Fear was a strange thing, it could come over you slowly like the night or suddenly like a storm. As Daemon's swords came ever closer to ending this fight, he saw it when it came over his opponent, he saw it, and then he took full advantage of it.
He darted left and spun before aiming to the right, he spun again only this time he feinted before he blocked a retaliatory strike. Then when he was looking him straight in his blue eyes, he smiled at him and brought Flame down hard. The icy blade which blocked but it was only a momentary respite for the Night King though, as Spark was what ended him. Daemon had thrust his smaller blade as had the Night King with his own, but where Daemon wore Valyrian Steel armor, his opponent did not.
Ice covered him as the creature exploded, the light on Daemon's swords growing brighter still and he heard the sounds of those behind him falling. He watched as the Night King, the White Walkers he'd surrounded himself with and the dead all fell, only the bodies of the latter left behind. Looking to the shadows he saw they seemed almost pleased with themselves. They were happy with their day and while he was incredibly grateful for their help, he didn't look as forward to the price he'd pay for it this night as they perhaps did.
"I thank you." he said as the flames on his swords went out and he put them in their sheaths on his back.
"We'll see you again, soon." they said as one before he was then alone once more as they faded away.
Though it was not to be for too long as Lyanax landed and Daemon walked to her, his dragon letting him now both her displeasure at leaving him alone and her joy that he was unhurt. Taking one last look around he could see it was done, none remained and he'd shut the blue eyes forever. His work though had only just begun and there were more battles to come and more eyes to close.
"You did well, just as I knew you would." R'hllor said as Daemon climbed onto Lyanax's back.
"I walk with a god's favor, I won this victory in your name as I will the others." Daemon said and he felt R'hllor's pleasure at both his victory and his words.