A tale of wolves and dragons

The Silence that Follows

As the ice monsters shattered the sound shook his body. A deafening sound, violent and fierce against the night sky.

Then. Silence....

The sun began to break across the landscape. Embodying it in hues of grey and light blue. He slowed his breathing down and scanned his surroundings, finding only gentle murmurs of agony and exhaustion around him. Arya lay beaten next to the Heart tree, hurt, but still breathing. Bran's eyes remained vacant. The Raven was still in flight.
Jon's body ached like never before. His face resting against the cold, wet snow. His breath the only sound to fill the silent void.

Then - A roar of dragons...

Daenerys!?.

He snapped back to the present, his eyes widened. Catching his breath and rubbing the blood stains from his eyes, he struggled to stand. Grabbing Longclaw to pull himself up, he stumbled but roused himself against his pains refusal. Drawing deep, heaving breaths, he scanned the parchment of the Godswood once more, having lost all sense of distance among the bodies strewn about the snow. He retraced his movements once again...

Daenerys. Drogon. Dragon fire. They had given him passage through the battlefield to the Godswood. But where could they be now? Did she take flight with Drogon and find a safer place?

He started running, in any direction he could. He was shaken and dazed, wiping away the blood and mud from his face as he paced through the yard. Arya stirred and called to him, but he couldn't stop now. Hearing her voice was enough the know she was alright. But where was Daenerys? Could she be in the Tower Garden? Was she in the courtyard or inside the Castle walls? Still in the open field? His heart sank through his knees.

I left her?!

His pace picked up as he began to frantically call her name. Worried at first - but his words soon reaching a crescendo of screams. Her name rang out across the silent and bloodied landscape, falling on deaf ears and dead eyes. His heart beating so fast it felt as though it might pound right through his chest. Each time he called her name and received no answer, the sense of dread and desperation built inside him. His mind raced a thousand miles faster than it ever had. Clinging to his last memories of her, all the while screaming her name louder and louder. What if she had fallen? What if her dragons or their armies couldn't protect her? He knew he had to leave her and face down the demon, but now with the dead silence of his surroundings, the regret and deep pang of helplessness overcame him.

Was it too late?

He had never told her what he needed to, he had never made it right before they flew off into battle. His bloodyminded and stoic nature to blame for that. His gut churned and his throat was dry. A sense of disbelief and fear raced through his body like none he'd ever known.

No it can't be?!

Not now. Not after everything they had both been through. Not after everything they believed in. Surely her light burnt the brightest - and he prayed that meant it wouldn't fade away in this cold, empty place.

As he reached the open field he found a handful of soldiers. So covered in blood they were he could hardly recognise which garrison they belonged to. He screamed at them "The Queen, where is our Queen? Have you seen our Queen?"

They looked at him in a haze of exhaustion, stammering to regain their surrounds. It seemed to Jon that he was the only one frantically trying to reach her, where ever she might be.
"On your feet! Find our Queen!"
He roared with a fierceness he didn't know he possessed. As if everything in his life depended on finding her. He pushed a solider to his feet in his fury and screamed once again. "Get up! Now! Find our Queen!"