The sky was crystal clear. Blue as far as the eye could see. Laenor napped away every few seconds, his head jerking back up when he woke again. He couldn't fall asleep on dragon back! But he was so tired. He did not want to stop either. He had to get to Rhaenyra, bring her the news. The good, the bad, all the other crazy, which had happened since he had pulled Lyonel and Harwin from the tower. The servant who turned out not to be a servant. Seasmoke not letting him go anywhere. They had rounded up more of them, while Harrenhall still burned. What they had said… or not said, because they didn't have tongues.
Madness.
He napped away again and jerked back upright. Seasmoke grumbled at him.
"I know." As if his father was scolding him. "Only a little longer." 10 minutes at best. He could manage another 10 minutes. Dragonstone would come into view soon. He could sleep later.
Seasmoke was thrown to the side by a gale. Leanor screamed and clung to the saddle for dear life, his heart hammering away. One way to wake up again. Seasmoke fought against the wind, growling and grumbling, trying to stabilize his flight. Where did the damn wind come –
Laenor stared, the choppy sea far below them. Snow was whirling around him. A bit away, he could make out shapes. Two dragons, one hunting the other by the looks of it.
---
Daenerys stopped in her tracks, staring at the sudden weather apparition on the horizon. Clouds. Not there one moment, there the next. Of course, clouds could act like that, but… not that suddenly. It looked… it looked like the storm, which had hit Winterfell before they attacked. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Them. How could this –
Oh, she herself should not ask how things could be! But so soon? Of course, so soon. She had escaped him only a little ago. The Night King would still be hunting her. Her dreams had told her ever since. Viserion hunting her. Viserion getting her. Or… Tears started to roll down her cheeks again. Viserion killing Rhaegal. They would get him and kill him and… but they were after her as well. Her dreams altered between Viserion hunting her or Rhaegal. They could not go after them both.
Watching the clouds roll in, her fear and sadness turned to timid anger. They would not have another one of her children. Not if she could stop it.
Making her way to the beach, she realized Drogon was not there.
---
Just as mother had done, Drogon stared at the clouds. They moved too quickly. Faster than any storm ever should. Was that snow? He breathed in, but the air around him still smelled of summer, of warmth, the nearby ocean. It was mind-breaking. Mother was stalking out towards the beach. The feeling of being watched shot up again, stronger than it had ever been. He could nearly feel how they looked at him. Stared. Right next – he growled, spun around and snapped at thin air. There was no one. Nothing. Just air. Yet, the feeling… His eyes looked but there was just air.
"Drogon? Drogon!"
His mother. He still stared at thin air. Were they watching her too? Had to be! Drogon growled again, ready to – and then the feeling vanished. Gone. Just as sudden as the clouds had come. Still grumbling, he jumped into the air and landed beside mother, kneeling when she asked for it.
"We have to fly," she said, but he didn't move. Just stared at the too-fast-moving clouds, the whirling snow. By now, he knew it was snow. He too recognized the storm. He would not fly in there.
"Drogon. Fly!"
Drogon just grumbled, getting ready to jump into the air, getting ready to ignore her commands. He would not fly towards it, no, he would fly away from it. He knew what would be in there. His crazy brother and the ice man.
"Drogon!" She cursed at him. "Rhaegal is in there. We must get to him!"
Rhaegal? His brother? The not-crazy one? Was she certain?
---
Viserion shot along through the snowstorm. His former brother was close now. So, so close. But he wasn't given any orders yet. His head was empty. No thoughts, just nothing. Just flying. Just existing. Or something close to it. He had felt the power wrap around him, the same which had made his other brother vanish.
We are close, the voice which wasn't his thoughts said. Try kill him. Go for the girl next.
The girl. Mother. Part of him wanted to fight at the voice, rip everything apart. He would not go for mother! Not even now, but of course, he had no choice. He never had one nowadays, not since he fell from the sky. He just did what the voice said. He had gone for mother earlier already. Nearly gotten her. He would do so again.
Finally. Viserion snapped for his brother, buried his fangs in his tail, his leg. There was blood everywhere. The poor thing could barely fight him anymore. They had hunted him for days. It nearly felt too easy. His black brother at least had put up a fight. This one… this one was like killing hatchlings. Rhaegal roared at him and folded his damaged wings, falling like a rock. Viserion dove right after. He would get him and the ice man would turn him. At least, he would not be alone anymore.
---
He would get him. He would get him, he would get him!
Roaring, Seasmoke crashed into the other white dragon, throwing him off his dive. Cold crept through his scales. The smell of death and ice. Something else, something sweet, something nearly alluring. Before he could even do anything, snap and bite and rip at the other dragon, Laenor's panic swept over him like a wave. The urge to back away and fly gnawed at his mind, ripped at his thoughts. But he just got him, damnit! He would not just fly! Seasmoke roared again, maybe to find his own courage, and bit the dragon. His fangs slid over its scales and ripped a chunk out. Was as if he was biting an old corpse. A very cold old corpse. The other dragon shrieked and snapped at him. Laenor screamed.
---
While Seasmoke crashed into Viserion, Drogon got close enough to the freak storm. He smelled it. Dead. Roaring at it, he stopped. He had to turn back. Get mother away no matter what.
"Fly!" Mother scolded him, but he just hovered. No damn –
There was blood. His brother's. The non-crazy one. Maybe he was crazy already. Right beside the other blue eyes in the storm, for nothing else dead could fly. He took a breath, desperately trying to figure out where the smell was coming from. Not the storm directly. Further down. The great water. But they could have killed him, watched him fall, and then turned him. Make his eyes blue. The smell would still be in the sea. He roared heartbroken. He wanted to get to his brother, part of him hoped he was still alive, no matter how tiny the chance. They were brothers! They hatched together! They were the only ones for so long. Flew together, hunted together, fought for silly nothings, growing big together.
Mother yelled at him to fly on, to move, damn the gods, but he just hovered, ready to turn back. To just fly. All of them be damned. Only mother was important. He did not even think of throwing up a ruckus with the other dragons, baiting them outside to fight whatever was in the storm. Only mother was important. Only –
There was blood of another dragon. From inside the storm.
---
Helaena stared at the flying away black dragon in utter disbelief. Rhaenyra and she stood on the steps to the yard, wanting to follow the woman. She knew it. She had seen it. It was the black dragon. The last dragon. The dragon who fought against the dead before the end of things, which meant that she... its rider... she was the Queen?
How could this be? Had her dreams gotten all confused? Had she gotten something wrong? How…
Her thoughts scattered when cold wind cut through them.
"What in the seven hells…," Rhaenyra muttered when snowflakes tumbled down around them.
Snow. The black dragon was flying into a snowstorm. A chill cut through her worse than the wind. It was her dream. As literal as all the others. The snow had come to turn their dragons.
"It's… it's…" She could not even get it out! Blue eyes was in there, she knew it. The turned green dragon. Maybe just a matter of seconds now, maybe…
An even worse thought jumped into her head, paling all others. The black dragon would not come back. It would die in there. The woman would die. They could not win against the storm. They would turn to ice. The storm would roll over them and turn them to ice too and… the dead would walk. Because blue eyes was the dead.
Helaena did not start crying again. She went straight to shrieking in abject terror. They would all die! All of them. Within the day. Maybe within the hour! Far away, she was aware of Rhaenyra kneeling beside her, trying to calm her down.
Dreamfyre, growling, baring her fangs. Helaena blinked and saw Rhaenyra backing away, her dragon closing in on her, ready to strike. She stopped screaming and reached out for her. Dreamfyre stopped approaching her big sister. She stopped at once. Her dragon… Helaena's eyes moved back to the storm. The horror within. The black dragon alone would die. Maybe… Maybe together they had a chance. Before she could change her mind again, which she surely would in about 5 seconds, she climbed onto Dreamfyre and had her fly towards the storm.
Rhaenyra stared, mouth slightly open. If something happened to Helaena under her watch Alicent may as well try murder her.
---
Rhaegal caught his sudden dive a few meters above the choppy sea. Waves were lapping, reaching for his wings. He beat them weakly, trying to get a little higher, and glanced up. He expected blue eyes to be on him any second, fangs and claws ripping through his scales, trying to beat him into nothing, but he was not. Two shadows danced above him, moving amidst the snow. One of the shadows started to fly away. He shivered. They would come for him now, come and –
Something grabbed his wing. Rhaegal's head spun around, and he stared at the half-ripped-away face of a man, eyes burning blue. Another one grabbed his wing and another and… He roared, breathed fire and finally flapped higher, staring at the waves beneath him. The water was full of them.