Naveena TARGARYEN :||: Queen Series #3

20) Dracarys

Rhaenys
With a great roar, we descended. We swooped towards the fighting, so close the clanging of swords and screeches of wights rose to our ears. I saw our neat lines of soldiers fall apart as they pushed against the force of the dead. We could easily see the waves upon waves of wights approaching the living and that's where we aimed for.

"Dracarys!"

Jahalla's entire body lit up, the heat almost a familiar 'welcome home' as she rained fire. The three dragons did not falter, did not stop. We gauged impressive lines of fire through their lines, flames remaining to burn to bodies that didn't completely disintegrate, making the wights walk through flames in their pursuit of the living. We only attacked behind enemy lines, the fighting nearer to Winterfell too jumbled with our own men.

The snowstorm suddenly increased tenfold. Where we had been able to see the fighting below us, snow and sleet were being hauled in our faces. I cried out as icicles scratched at my cheeks, blood dripping off my jaw. Jahalla screeched, aiming away from the biting snow.

Two streaks of fire shone through the darkness. Viserion and Drogon's flames allowed Jahalla to return to the fight, knowing where to strike, continuing her assault. The blizzard kept coming and the wights kept fighting. Visibility was extremely poor now.

The light from the flames of dragon breath occasionally lit up the field for the soldiers fighting but as our view of the battle disappeared, so did our accuracy in aiming for our enemy. But the flames we'd left behind still burned as our fallen dead were claimed too. That had been one of the other advantages discussed in the war room, how our dragons could burn our dead to prevent them from rising again as a wight.

Another wave of snow, sleet and cloud washed over me, making Jahalla's head and neck disappear. All I could see was the dark shape of her body and mounds where her spikes were. Her body slithered and writhed underneath me, still flying, still fighting despite not even being able to see.

She roared and I was thrown forward as she flung her wings out trying to stop herself midflight. I heard Daenerys' let out a sound of surprise and Drogon roar as the two dragons swerved to avoid each other, only grazing their wings. We should get out of the air. Three giant flying beasts and we almost lost two queens and an heir with two of them colliding.

A horn rang out from behind us. The sound of retreat. The horn was so distant that I realised we had been headed away from the battle. Perhaps the dragons had wanted to get out of the blizzard and regain their bearings. Leaning to the left, Jahalla responded by swooping low and turning back towards Winterfell. This fight wasn't over yet.

Even as the horn sounded retreat, there was another battle strategy in place. The huge army of Unsullied, with their neat lines and disciplined minds, would protect the retreating army. They would remain where they were on the outside of the walls, standing their ground as other men raced past them to get back inside to relative safety. They would be left alone, with no one but each other and the training they had all endured to become the famous army they were.

Once everyone was back inside, the rear lines would also retreat, trying to save as many men as possible. Grey Worm would lead the retreat but have to sacrifice his front lines, as he got behind the wall of speared logs, assembled to pierce and maim, tipped with dragonglass to kill the wights that fell upon them. He would have to leave his men to get behind the defences and close the gap that had allowed for our retreat.

When that happened Ser Davos would wave flaming torches in the air, signalling us to light the trenches that served as a barrier between the dead and Winterfell. But with this storm, I had no way of telling exactly where those trenches were, let alone where Winterfell was.