Chapter 5: You Win Or You Die
He'd fallen back to Winterfell with what remained of his army. The armies of the Westerlands, the Stormlands, Dorne and New Valaryia met him there. Followed closely by the ragged remains of the Iron Born and Ghiscari armies. Aerys sat with a council of his high lords, the seven great houses of Westeros; the young Lady Lara Selmy, Prince Edric Dayne, Lord Garth Hightower, Lord Mervyn Sarsfield, Lord Vickon Harlaw, Lord Patrek Mallister, Lord Guston Arryn and their host Lady Arra Umber, when his siblings walked into the assembly.
"Brother, sister," Aerys nodded, but did not rise from his seat.
"Brother," said Rhaella. Barristan just nodded back. They were all dejected and exhausted. The White Walkers were slaughtering them.
“So what are we going to do?” asked Prince Dayne,
“We can't just wait here for them to come to us!” said Lord Arryn,
“Why not, they'll be upon us in a matter of days?” said Lady Umber
“Because we couldn't defend the Wall!” shouted Lord Mallister rising to his feet, “How can we expect to defend Winterfe...” he was cut off by a coughing fit. He coughed up blood and collapsed back into his chair. Everyone jumped to their feet. Prince Dayne was next to Mallister and was the first to his side.
“He's dead,” said Dayne. Everyone was quite for a moment.
“Take him outside and burn him now,” said Barristan,
“This isn't your empire brother,” said Aerys, “Give us a damn moment.”
“Forgive me for trying to protect us from an undead creature,”
“His name was Petrek! The last of the noble house Mallister!”
“If you can't do what has to be done...”
Suddenly Mallister was on his feet, his eyes glowing blue. He knocked Prince Dayne aside and wrapped his hands around Lord Arryn's neck. Aerys quickly spun and unsheathed Orphan-Maker, it sliced through the air and cut straight through Mallisters neck. The head came away and hit the ground with a dull thud, leaving a smoking stump of a neck.
The scouts spotted the Walkers just a few hours later. The argument whether to leave Winterfell became moot, there was no time now. Aerys stood with his siblings watching the army approaching.
“So...” Rhaella smiled at Aerys, “It's not to late to fly away to Sothoryos.
“We could always just head west?” said Aerys, “See what's beyond the Sunset sea?”
“Hmmm, that's not bad,” replied Rhaella, “Or the Summer Isles? Father once told me the Summer Islanders have a God with seven...”
“Will you two shut up?” said Barristan, “Are we fighting or flying?”
“I'm fighting,” said Aerys, “But this isn't your kingdom, you two don't need to die here with me.” The army was close now, they could clearly hear the groans of the wights.
“I was born in Westeros, might as well die in Westeros,” Rhaella shrugged, “I didn't have anything better planned today anyway.”
“I am so sick of this fucking winter,” said Barristan, “perzys ānogār.”
“Perzys ānogār,” replied Rhaella,
“My High Valaryian's a bit rusty...” said Aerys,
“It means 'fire and blood',” Rhaella slapped him on the back, “you dolt.”
***Stick to the plan
thought Aerys Just stick to plan and maybe we don't all die
. He flew straight at the army of the dead atop Viserion, beside Rhaella atop Rhaegal and Barristan atop Drogon. The armies of Westeros, Ghiscar and New Valaryia stayed behind the walls of Westeros raining flaming arrows down upon the army of the dead. The wights had a harder time climbing stone than they had had climbing ice. The siblings split up. Rhaella headed to the left flank, Aerys to the right and Barristan down the center. Hitting them with continues blasts of flame they split the army of the dead into two seperate parts, split off from each other. Seeing the army split apart Aerys raised the dragon banner above his head to give the signal. Suddenly postern gates opened in the walls of Winterfell.
Outrode Dothraki screamers equiped with every valaryian steel sword in the Essos and Westeros. They charged up the smouldering empty columns slicing wights left and right as they charged. Following them came the Legions of Ghis, their spear-tips replaced with flaming torches, they formed a single line and drove forward into the herded wights, chanting in Ghiscari. Finally came the remains of the armies of Westeros, torches in place of swords, shouting the words of their house and the names of fallen friends. The army of the dead completely corraled the siblings decended on the army of the dead.
The destruction was near complete. No quarter was giving as the living forced the dead into a tighter and tighter space. Aerys swooped low, aiming at the Wight Walker at the center who seemed to be some sort of authority figure. A wight suddenly threw another into the air, it's blade slicing into Visarion's wing. Both dragon and rider crashed into the middle of the undead hoard.
Visarion set about himself with golden flame, the stream allbut completely unbroken. Aerys got to his feet, his left arm hurt like hell and wouldn't move, but his sword arm was still good. He unsheathed Orphan-Maker and struck out. He cut down two wights and Visarion engulfed a White Walker in flames who got too close. The lead White Walker charged forward, he ducked forward and Visarion didn't notice him closing. The White Walker aimed its ice-blade directly at Visarion's throat. Aerys swang Orphan-Maker and blocked the attack, the impact echoed up his arm. The White Walker looked Aerys in the eye and screamed something in its unholy language, it sounded like the crackling of ice. The White Walker took it's free arm and slapped Aerys to the ground.
The world span, and Aerys found he could not stand. I'll just rest for a moment
he thought Just for a moment
. The world was suddenly orange, green, purple and gold. And then it was black.
A strange heat played upon Aerys' skin. Gentler than fire but far warmer than the sun. Where am I?
Aerys found himself thinking. He forced an eye open. Big mistake. The room lurched around him and he vomited off the side of the bed. I'm in a bed?
he thought, Not dead then
. He let him self drift off to sleep.
His eyes opened. The room was filled with a strange yellow light. His sister was sleeping in a chair in the corner.
“Rhaella...” he croaked. She started awake.
“Aerys!” she lept to her feet, “I knew you weren't the heroic death type!”
“What is...” Aerys struggled to speak, he gestured to the window. Rhaella suddenly had tears in her eyes.
“It's the sun brother,” she said, “it's the sun of spring,”End Of Part 1Next chapter: post81513.html#p81513