Chapter 27: Alarys

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~Through Ice and Fire~

The battle raged on around Alarys, chaos unfurling like a storm. The cold air felt like knives against her skin, and the ferocity of the wights pressed in on her, a dark tide threatening to swallow her whole. She fought desperately, her sword flashing in the dim light, but even with her skills, she felt overwhelmed.

But even through the fear and despair, there was one thought that anchored her—Jon. She looked over her shoulder, seeking him out, desperate for his presence. Just a glance, just to know he was still fighting by her side. And in that moment of distraction, a wight lunged at her, knocking her off balance and sending her sprawling into the icy water.

Cold. So cold. The shock of it stole her breath, and for a moment, panic gripped her heart. She flailed in the dark depths, the icy tendrils wrapping around her, pulling her down. The world above faded into a distant memory, the chaos of battle muted to a whisper.

She gasped for air, but all she found was the bitter sting of cold water. She was drowning. Her limbs felt heavy, the cold wrapping around her like a shroud, dragging her deeper into the abyss.

But within that darkness, a spark ignited. The fire inside her flared to life, fierce and unyielding. She focused on it, letting it burn away the cold. She pushed against the darkness, pulling herself up, clawing for the surface.

With a desperate gasp, she broke through the ice, lungs aching, heart pounding. She pulled herself up onto the frozen bank, every part of her frozen to the bone, but she was alive. Alone.

The battle continued, and the wights swarmed, relentless and hungry for flesh. Alarys fought to her feet, the cold numbing her limbs, but she refused to succumb to despair. She raised her sword, preparing to strike, but they were too many, and she felt the weight of hopelessness crushing down.

Then, like a figure from a dream, a man in dark furs appeared, his presence fierce and commanding. "Flee, Girl!" he shouted, urgency lacing his voice. "Get to my horse! I'll buy you time!"

"No! I can't just leave you!" Alarys cried, but the words felt hollow against the roaring chaos.

"Go!" he insisted, facing the encroaching wights with steely resolve.

Her heart raced as she turned, racing toward the horse he had indicated, her mind screaming at her to keep running. But she hesitated, the dread of leaving him behind clawing at her insides. She looked back to see him charging at the horde, a lone warrior against a tide of death.

Pain surged through her, fueling a fire that she could not contain. She could feel the rage bubbling inside her, her anger at the dead, at the loss, at everything threatening to take away the people she cared about. The unknown man's bravery ignited something within her.

With a roar of defiance, she turned back, channeling all her pain into her sword. She could picture the flames that had danced along Beric Dondarrion's sword, illuminating the darkness. If he could do it, so could she.

She focused, summoning the fire within, and as she thrust her sword into the ground, flames erupted, engulfing the wights around the oh so familiar man. The heat was intoxicating, the fire roaring to life, chasing away the cold and darkness.

"What!" He shouted, eyes wide in surprise as the flames danced around him, illuminating the chaos.

"Get on!" she urged, sweeping her sword through the remaining wights as they fell beneath the blaze.

With a burst of determination, she fought her way to him, and together they carved a path through the horde. Alarys grabbed the errily familiar man, pulling him up onto the horse behind her as they charged away from the fray.

But as they rode, she looked back. Her heart dropped as she saw the wights swarming over him, pulling him down into the cold depths.

"No!" she screamed, the agony in her chest almost unbearable.

With a swift motion, she turned her horse around, ready to face the nightmare again. She would not let him die, not like this. Not when she still had fight left in her.

Her sword ignited with the fire of her anger and despair, and she surged forward, cutting through the wights with renewed strength. She felt their icy hands grasping at her, but she fought back, letting the flames consume them one by one until there was nothing but ashes.

Finally, she reached the man, who had managed to fight off some of the undead. She pulled him up onto the horse with her, feeling the weight of him settle behind her, a lifeline amid the chaos.

"Let's go!" she urged, kicking the horse into a gallop, their escape fueled by adrenaline and determination.

They raced across the icy landscape, the night closing in around them. Alarys could feel the heat of the fire within her, burning brightly as they rode. But the battle was far from over.

As they neared Eastwatch, the sounds of chaos faded behind them. Alarys barely registered the clamor of voices, the frantic energy of the castle preparing for the next fight. All she could think about was survival.

Eventually, she was ushered aboard a ship, the familiar faces of Daenerys, Davos, and Sandor surrounding her. Their relief was palpable, but all Alarys could focus on was the void left in her heart, the fear of what she had lost.

"Jon!" she gasped, feeling the panic rise again.

"Jon!" she called out, urgency propelling her forward. She stumbled down the corridor, water dripping from her clothes, her heart racing.

When she finally reached his door, she paused, breathless and for once shivering. Was he still alive? Had he thought her lost?

With trembling fingers, she pushed the door open.

Jon stood inside, shock etched across his face. He looked at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and relief.

"Alarys," he breathed, crossing the room in an instant.

Before she could say a word, he enveloped her in his arms, warmth flooding through her as he pulled her close. Their lips met in a fierce, desperate kiss, passion igniting the air between them.

For that moment, all the pain, the fear, and the cold fell away, leaving only the two of them, intertwined in a world where nothing else mattered. Alarys melted against him, relief washing over her as they clung to each other, the fire within her reignited by the connection they shared.

It was a moment of pure, unyielding joy amidst the chaos, a spark of hope that refused to be extinguished.



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