Hollow Crown ↬ Daenerys Targaryen

28

Hello! If you previously read this chapter when I first published it, PLEASE READ AGAIN!! I made a major change and I don't want any confusion in the coming chapters.

Enjoy!

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The castle is chaos as Percy, Daenerys and Jon sprint their way down the corridors. Melisandre tails them, having no battle experience and therefore being the most vulnerable. The entrance seems miles away as they run, the occasional glance out of the many windows causing their blood to go cold.

Hundreds of soldiers, varying from Northern to Dothraki to Unsullied, scatter the grounds outside of the walls. Dead of all species surround them almost on all sides, their numbers seen far greater and oppressive on the battlefield. Those that work to maintain defenses inside of the walls rush to do so with panic-fueled speed. It's a true sight of war, Percy briefly thinks as his feet pump quicker, dead versus living ravaging the terrain with battle.

The first line of defenses had fallen earlier than they had planned for. It had been successful, taking out at least up to two hundred with the fire, but it was soon trampled out by the rest.

The fences had been less successful, only managing to impale a few dozen before being knocked down. Though the dragon glass still acted as somewhat of a defense from when it lay on the ground, repelling them.

Soon, too soon, however, the dead had reached the last line and all hell broke loose. The two sides had charged aggressively at each other, the Dothraki's screams filling the air as they wielded their fiery swords, the Unsullied in sync as always, and the Northerners as resilient as ever.

It was a sight that would go down in the history books as the largest and most important battle in Westeros history. The mighty army of the dead against the greatest army the world has ever seen. A story told for generations to come, surely. That is, if there's anyone left to tell it.

"Quickly, we have to get the priestess to the inner trenches!" Percy shouts as panicked screams invade their ears from outside. His heartbeat is loud in his ears, chest constricting and breathing growing heavy as he listens. Gods, be with them.

They pass the throne room, then the lower corridor where Sansa, Missandei, Tyrion and a few others are the last to enter the crypts. Jon stops momentarily to stare at his sister, the two exchanging a tearful nod before she dissapears down the passage and he's returning full speed. Tyrion and Percy share a heartfelt nod, their promises of return having been said long ago.

Daenerys is panicked for entirely different reasons. She had ordered the dragons to wait for them on the mountain side, so that they could ambush the army from above. But the smoke had clouded the sky much too soon, and now they're left defenseless on the ground.

Once they reach the large double doors that separate them from the outside, the three halt. Percy breathes deeply through his nose, contemplating, before turning to the two. He stares for a long moment, praying to whatever higher faith is listening that the dragons arrive soon, before hesitantly voicing his thoughts.

"You two will have to command the dragons while I take Lady Melisandre to the field." He almost whispers, though his words are still firm.

Daenerys immediately opens her mouth to argue, an incredulous look on her face. "Absolutely not! It's chaos out there, you'll be of more help in the skies!"