Wolf's Blood | Daenerys Targaryen |

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Long Night

  The air was tense as Unsullied soldiers marched to their designated positions. Should the cavalry fail, they would be there to stop the incoming wave of Undead.

  Sansa, Rickon, Tyrion, and Varys had been a few among the many to leave for the Riverlands. Donner made sure of it.  He had a quick final meal of some overcooked pork before armoring himself up. He didn't wear steel or any heavy armor. He only wore leather that had been dyed black with a direwolf sigil stitched into the upper chest section by Sansa.

  The leather wouldn't protect him from swords or any weapon, but it would stop the wights from being able to grab him. Under the leather, he wore a simple steel chest plate that would hopefully protect him.

  In the distance, the growls of the undead put everyone in an unnerved state. Donner mounts his horse and they slowly walk in the direction of the Dothraki screamers who were making a ruckus in front of the walls.

  Ser Jorah waved him over to where he was sitting on his horse and Ghost was standing nearby, “This is it, isn't it?”

  “I wouldn't say this is it, but it's definitely something.”

  “Where's Alice? I would've thought she'd be near you.” see Jorah asked.

  Donner shrugged as he unsheathed his dragonglass sword, “Sent her to the Riverlands by foot. If the dead get that far, then all they have are a few men to fight for them. Might as well put a dire wolf in the mix.”

  “It's been an honor serving with you, Lord Stark.”

  Before Donner could say anything else, his vision faded to a foggy white, ‘Not now. Any moment except now.’ Donner thought to himself, doing everything in his power to get himself out of the trance.

  In front of him, a person he could never forget stood strongly, “Donner.”

  “Father?” he looked around to see he was standing on the balcony that overlooked the training yard, “What are you… I thought you were dead.”

  Ned smiles, “I am, ” Donner's face expressed disappointment, “I've just come to tell you that no matter the outcome of this battle, you've done well. You crossed an ocean to serve a true Queen. You've protected her as well. I just wish I could be there by your side.”

  “I just served the Queen I’m loyal to,” Donner said quickly, still focused on his father. He looked around, “Where are we?”

  “Nowhere.” his father began, “Or perhaps everywhere. I can't talk to you for a long time, but I wanted to tell you that we're proud of you. What you've become. All of us. Your mom. Robb. Even Robert. Now, be the true wise wolf, not the lone wolf.”

  His father placed a hand on his shoulder, “Once I heard a poem. You shall hear no Lions roar. When winter forces you to yield, No Stags shall graze upon the field. When winter creeps upon you from the shadows, No Roses shall bloom from the meadows. When winter wreaks havoc on the land, You can bet there'll be no Snakes in the sand. When winter brings to life all it finds grim, The Krakens will freeze where they swim. When winter sets and the land begins to shiver, The Flayed Man will start to rot and wither. When winter fights to the last sliver, No more Trouts shall swim in the river. When winter ravages and all despair, No Falcons shall fly high in the air. When winter shows you what happens when snow falls, Not even Dragons Breath shall warm you in your halls. When winter comes with all its might, Only the Wolves shall howl in the night.”

  “The lone wolf dies but the pack survives.”

  His vision faded once again and soon he was back on his horse, “Hey, ” Ser Jorah called from next to him, “Get your head in the game.”

  Melisandre trots over on her horse and approaches a Dothraki Screamer with his arakh help high in the air. She places the palm of her hand and recites words in High Valerian, "We ask the Lord to shine his light, and lead a soul out of darkness. We beg the Lord to share his fire, and light a candle that has gone out. From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life."

  As if a wave of fire washed across the Dothraki Screamers, all of their arakh weapons were lit aflame. They cheered. Ser Jorah nodded to Melisandre in thanks. The knight drew his sword.

  Donner gripped the hilt of his sword tightly but was taken aback when the Dothraki screamers began charging. He looked to Ser Jorah who was just as confused as he was.

  So they wouldn't be trampled, they joined a charge. A wave of fire washing over the landscape. The Unsullied let giant flaming boulders fly through the air after the Screamers.

  Soon the growls get louder as they get closer. As flaming boulders fly through the night sky and make contact with the ground, Donner could see the Undead sprinting at them, crawling over each other to get past.

  When the front of the Dothraki Screamers makes contact with the Undead, its almost as if they hit a wall. Horses flip, their riders are flung forward into the undead. Donner looks to Ser Jorah who tries his best to turn around.

  Donner's horse runs forward until it rams into that of the Dothraki in front of him. The horse falls to the ground, taking Donner with it.

  The Stark pushes himself off the ground and searches for Ser Jorah who was running directly at him with his arm out. With his free hand, Donner grabs his hand and struggles to keep hold as Ser Jorah's horse runs at full speed away from the dead mass.

  Compared to the large amount of Dothraki Screamers that were once mounted, very few are able to get away, either running on foot or on their horses.

  As they near Winterfell, no sound is made from the other side of the field, forcing Donner to think of the grim thought: Their entire calvary had joined the Army of the Dead.

  As soon as they made it to the left section of the Northerners, Donner let go of Ser Jorah's grasp, muttering a thank you before joining ranks, “What in the Seven Hells happened out there?” A Northerner asks.

  Donner looks to the man, “It was a fucking wall. The cavalry wasn't supposed the charge. They weren't supposed to charge. Without them, we're fucked. Absolutely fucked.”

  “Was it that bad?” Another Northerner asks.

  Donner scoffed, “Do you know how many men and horses we just lost? All of them are fighting for the Night King now.”

  The sound of growing drew closer to them until Donner could feel the vibrations of the charging army in front of them. Like a wave, the dead washed over them bringing pain and suffering in their wake.