Game of Thrones || The Sword of the Morning

Fall

~~Evelyn Dayne~~

Rhaegal huffs heavily as the snow and wind whips wildly through my hair, annoying me to know end with it being all in my eyes. The frigid temperatures is so familiar and it feels nice being in the cold again. A far cry from the deserts of Dorne and Essos.

I glance at my side, seeing Daenerys flying on Drogon right next to me and Rhaegal alongside Viserion. The three sons and two mothers. Gods, it warms my heart that the dragons look at me as such. Daenerys is happy with it as well.

Rhaegal huffs a but heavier than before as I clutch his horns a bit tighter, glancing past his wing on his side where the projectile, whatever it was that Euron fired, scrapped his side. The wound is exactly fully healed and it's concerning me.

"Come on, boy! In and out, no problem! Right?"

I shout to the dragon and he responds with an even heavier huff as a little fire spews as we continue flying hundreds of feet in the air.

Jon has so helpfully pointed out the fact that he and his Wildling friend, along with Ser Jorah and the Brotherhood Without Banners, are going North.

'Such a smart-ass.'

I chuckle to myself as the wind whips a bit harder, making me grip Rhaegals scales harder in an attempt to steady myself better.

I glance back at Drogon and Daenerys, seeing the winds of winter whip through her silver hair, her intricate braids flying around as I see her try and keep her fur hood on over her head as best she can.

The Fire Queen kissed by Ice. They say that people red of hair are kissed by fire, but Daenerys is fire kissed by ice. Her love burns brighter and hotter than any fire whenever she sees me and her fury burns icely in the face of her enemies. She is the epitome of beauty of love.

Rhaegar Targaryen might have had his own Queen of Love and Beauty, but I have mine flying on a dragon beside me.

As if reading my thoughts, Daenerys turns and faces me, and even from here, I can see the smile dawning her lips and a twinkle in her beautiful violet eyes. A blow a kiss towards her as she does the same and I grin to myself, feeling my heart beat just a little bit quicker.

But the thought of the White Walkers sends an even colder shiver than the winter winds ever could. The stories that Lord Stark himself told us so many times about the Walkers, that all seems like a passed life now. All of the times we were told of Wights and White Walkers growing up, it never felt real.

But the looks in Jon's silent eyes spoke volumes.

Suddenly, the vast wasteland of nothing but white is covered with a thick cold fog as it sweeps in like a flood on the Trident River. Rhaegal twists and is temporarily lost of balance and I shout in surprise as my grip slips a little before I quickly regain it.

"Daenerys!"

"Evelyn!"

He screams off in the white winds are barely audible and I can't see her through the dense nothingness of white.

~~Jon Snow~~

Walking through the somewhat narrow passage ways through the canyon, Jon and the others walk on, in search for the White Walkers.