POV - Jon (iv)

The Lord Commander could hear his men screaming "Wall! For the Wall!" as they unleashed a torrent of burning arrows upon the endless horde of undead thralls the Others continued to unleash. Blue and black creatures with their ragtag clothing and damaged weapons continued to charge the Wall, his mens numbers dwindling with every wave. How many had they killed? Thousands? Hundreds of Thousands? It was like asking how many stars there were in the sky. But his eyes drew to where he knew his friend was fighting.

"I hope he is alright. I haven't seen any of the wrights come through that section of woods in a while, but I haven't seen him come out of their either."

The archers were in a compact block atop the Wall facing their foe; as he watched their arrows come down the rear ranks on the ground prepared their weapons and brandished shields to repel or destroy anything that got past. He desperately wished the gate was still standing, but for now the collapsed tunnel of ice would have to be enough.

Snow heard one of his men take a sharp breath, and he gave the man a glance. The man's normally flat, narrow-eyed face was locked in a mask of terror. All around him the archers stopped unleashing their arrows and instead dropped their jaws. Faint and far he could hear the rushing sleet sound of shafts trail off…and be replaced by the hard lash of air being forced by something. Like thunder, but much louder.

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!

Jon bit back a curse as his head snapped to the right; towards the monstrous call. At first his eyes refused to believe what he was witnessing, but his mind couldn't argue away the sight. He was witness to something everyone in Westeros agreed had vanished from the world many years ago. It was a massive, monstrous, dragon. Its scales were black, the massive horns longer than any lance and a shade of red so dark and vibrant he first thought it was blood. Its eyes were shouldering red pits of fury.

The beast surged over the Wall faster than an arrow leaving a shaft, barely out of reach of Jon's arms, and he could feel heating radiating from the monster as if it was fire made flesh. The Wall under it felt the searing warmth as well and a pool of water raised along the icy surface. Despite the heat and speed, Jon saw what could only be a person riding atop the beasts back, legs straddling and hands holding onto the burning scales like a downing man clutching a wooden plank. It must have been a women, her bluish dress tattered and pulling away from her from the wind.

He watched as the dragon circled over the battlefield, and then panicked as two more arrived soon behind the first. They were about half the size of the first, but still giant and size and packing as much terror as their larger brethren. The second was moss green with bronze scales, its teeth and claws black as onyx and eyes brighter than polished bronze shields that seemed to glow. The third was the color of fresh cream, with horns and bone of gold but teeth like black daggers and eyes of molten gold. Both were as beautiful as they were deadly.

Once all three dragons circled overhead, they began to crisscross the field of battle in a brilliant torrent of fire. Black and red, orange and green, gold and red flames from the massive creatures cut a swath across the frozen ground, incinerating the undead by the hundreds and setting alight the rest. The heat from the flames rushed up the side of Wall, bathing Jon and his men in a warmth never before felt in the North. Absently he imagined it was what they felt in Dorne or some other place to the far South.

Marco quietly asked, "Um-What do we do now, my Lord? Should we fire upon them?"

Jon forced himself to stop staring at the dragons and looked at his friend incredulously. "Fire upon a force of nature that could turn us to cinders? How daft are you? We hold fire unless they attack us first."

The knight sighed and gave a swift pray to his seven gods before passing the orders along to the men on the Wall.

Jon looked out at where he knew Rogers should be in the woods, and grew worried. The normally green trees were awash in flames, and the smoke rose so thick in the sky that he couldn't see beyond them despite how high up he was.

Despite how anxious he was for his friend, the Lord Commander grew completely and utterly terrified at what he heard next.

AAAAAAAHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

The sound erupted like a volcano from among the trees, the force of it pushing smoke and flame away like strong breeze atop a lake. The sound didn't just cause Jon's hairs to stand on end, it made his very bones cry out in agony. He doubled over in pain, clutching at the cold Wall to bring him relief, but instead he watched as the Wall began to crack.