Hers Is The Fury

Renewed Efforts

[King's Landing]

King's Landing was awash in a frigid wind as the armies of the living and dead engaged in battlefield. The survivors of Winterfell, a mixture of Northern soldiers, wildlings, Dornish soldiers, Velaryon sailors, Baratheon loyalists, Daenerys Targaryen and her advisors, and her dragons Drogon and Rhaegal, the Dothraki and the Unsullied, had suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of the Night King and his relentless army of the dead. Yet they marched on, ever hopeful that they might find shelter and succor in the safety of the Seven Kingdoms' capital city.

When they arrived, Queen Morgana Baratheon, daughter of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister, wife of King of the North, Robb Stark, wasted no time in rallying her forces with the Lannister soldiers and Vale Knights to join the battle against the Night King and his undead horde.

Morgana was known for her fierce determination and courage, but she also had a secret weapon: the power of the dragon. Inherited from her Targaryen ancestors, it was a rare gift that gave her control over the elements, allowing her to summon a protective shield, among other things. She was also fire resistant, making her a formidable adversary on the battlefield.

However, during a one-on-one confrontation with the Night King, Morgana had failed to sense the approaching White Walker, who promptly struck her, causing her to fade into unconsciousness.

Both Robb and Jon were close enough to see what had happened. Robb, wanting to protect his wife, urged Jon to let him go aid Morgana. Jon, however, insisted that Robb stay and help defend the city. There was something about the Night King's refusal to engage him in direct combat that made Jon uneasy, and he didn't want his king distracted.

With a nod of understanding, Robb turned back to the battle, his sword singing through the air as he fought side by side with Jon against the relentless tide of the dead. In the distance, they could see Jon's dragon, Rhaegal, swooping through the air, breathing fire upon the wights and white walkers that threatened their allies, along with Morgana's dragon-bonded, Darkfyre.

Morgana, meanwhile, lay unconscious on the ground, her breath shallow and her heart racing. Jon couldn't shake the feeling that he had to help her. After a moment's hesitation, he left the battlefield, racing towards his injured cousin. He scooped her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he sprinted back to the safety of the city.

The battle raged on without them, the cacophony of steel on steel, screams of agony and rage, and the roar of dragons filling the air. Jon ducked through the crowd, careful not to trample any of his allies in his haste to reach the rear lines. Finally, he spotted a group of healers tending to the wounded near the foot of the castle walls.

"Over here!" he called out, waving his free hand. "I need help!"

A female healer with a knowing expression hurried over to them. "Let's get her inside," she said, taking Morgana from Jon's arms and leading him toward a nearby tent. The interior was lit by flickering lanterns and filled with the scents of herbs and poultices. Morgana lay on a makeshift bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to regain consciousness. The healer knelt beside her, feeling her pulse and inspecting her injuries.

"She's been hit hard," the healer murmured, "but she'll pull through. We need to keep her warm and rested." She turned to Jon. "You should get some rest yourself, my lord. You're no good to her or your people if you're exhausted."

Jon nodded gratefully and left the tent, wearily making his way back to the battlefield. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and death, and the ground was slick with blood. He spotted Robb and their allies fighting valiantly against the relentless onslaught of the undead. Despite their best efforts, the Night King's army showed no signs of weakening.