Dragons Fill The Skies Ch 11

***SANSA***

In the vast open fields of Winterfell, Sansa watched construction which began months ago when she was in her final month of pregnancy. The workers and stone masons were busy adding new space, towers, and court areas to Winterfell Castle. The workers from the golden empire of Yi Ti were fast and didn't seem to tire even in the frigid temperature of the north which was the opposite climate from which they hailed. Winterfell this time grew twice as large as it was, there were more rooms and more chambers for their royal family. She was also told that beneath the castle in the tunnel where the old northern kings were buried, Yi Tish workers worked tirelessly on renovating and reconstructing the statues and walls. This was to show and prove to their new queen that their love for her and their prince was true and immovable the day they married. No coin was needed for their selfless work and devotion, they only wished for the child of East and West, blessed by the Phoenix, to live a long and prosperous life in his new home.

"I never seen the tunnel of the buried northern kings look so clean before, it's so bright with more candles. The walls look new, and flowers from the north and from Yi Ti adorned my ancestors' tombs. It was like I was walking down there for the very first time. I must do right by my prince consort's people, their love for him, and their newfound devotion to me and the north." Sansa thought privately.

Near her was baby prince Vincent sleeping in his wooden crib whose legs were converted to a sled to help it glide against the snow that accumulated on the ground. Leather flaps with wool and fleece stitched on the reverse kept him warm and insulated from the cold winds blowing past them while Sansa returned to focus on her Yi Tish trainer explaining to her how to use the tool they call a 'whistle' which when blown, made a high pitched shriek sound.

"The baby baboon is quick to learn my queen," her bilingual trainer spoke, "The whistle is to get him to focus on your command and the 'clicker' in your hand is to let him know he is doing his command wrong. Two clicks to let him know he is performing his command wrong, and one click to let him know he is doing it right and to continue until the full command is completed."

"Hah hah," Sansa laughed.

"I'm sorry my queen, did I say something funny" the trainer asked, a confused look growing on on his face.

"It's not what you said, it's how you're saying it. Your accent is soft but soothing and a little funny to my ears, please forgive me. Your accent sounds very...funny."

"I am pleased to make you laugh on this day. Now, use your whistle to make him focus on you. Then repeat your name to him while pointing at your head and heart. This is visible sign language in our culture will let him know 'this' is who you are."

Sansa did as she was told and the baby baboon looked away. She clicked twice and whistled again until he was staring at her. Single clicking until he 'danced' by stomping his little feet.

"He Is happy your grace, please give him one treat from the bag I gave you, then pet his head." the trainer told her.

"What do you think about your gift, my love, Im sure it's nothing like training a dire wolf," Jin asked.

"It's like a little wild man with a lot of hair. I might get too used to him. He's so cute and the sounds he makes are adorable. If only I trained Lady, my direwolf, like I am with this baboon then maybe she would still be alive with me. But this baboon is different, there's intelligence and a soul in his eyes. His long tail is so fuzzy, long, and slender. Im in love with him. You said he could be trained to be an assassin?"

"Yes my love, but he is far from becoming your secret guardian assassin. First, he must learn your name and become familiar with the sound of your name, then up next are commands like getting you items by first familiarizing him with objects and items in our everyday world. The more you train him and with him, the easier everything will come for the both of you."

"By the way my love, There is civil war in the Westerlands. The lord paramount of the west Is, was my former husband, Tyrion Lannister. We were married but the marriage was never consummated. He was there for me when I lost my brother, Robb, to his evil nephew, the monster I was married to before him."

"I am sorry for the pain and hard life you had to endure my love, the gods know why these things are allowed to happen. My only hope is that your enemies and pursuers and anyone who wants to see your downfall will be punished in the next life. As for the matter of your former husband, the tiny man, it's unfortunate but a civil war in a region is like a terrible fever in a person's body, it needs to happen to expel what is making it sick before the body can start healing and feeling better. Out of old love and respect that you may have for Tyrion, would you like us to assist him with his civil war?"

"I want to help him, but he made it clear in his letter that he needs no one's help. He's remarried to a shadow priestess from Ibben. He claims they have the world's largest army backing them."

"My love," Jin spoke, "marrying a shadow priestess is no passing fancy because they are so powerful it is said any man who wants to marry them, must give up their soul to them because they collect them. Children are said to be born with special powers, becoming powerful mages, pyromancers, or masters of the elements. Unless this priestess married for true love then Tyrion won't be in trouble. I will pray that this ends in his favor but remember my love, my men are ready to march at your command."

Two hours later into training, Sansa learned how to communicate and familiarize her new animal companion with her voice and her commands. After, Jin had the trainer with the baboon dismissed and he and Sansa returned to Winterfell with baby Vincent waking up inside of his leather-covered crib.

"Darling, give Vicent the bottle of milk with the rubber tit you brought with you," Sansa told Jin, who pulled out a small bottle of milk with a rubber tit, an invention that came from his land.

"That bottle is such a wonderful innovation, it saves me a lot of time breastfeeding him. He drinks a lot you know, your son seems to have an endless pit for a stomach."

Jin laughed, "He's going to grow up to be big and strong like my mammoth, gentle as a dove, more beautiful than a bouquet of blue lilies, and wiser than any wise men here in Westeros."

Sansa smiled and wrapped an arm around Jin's arm as he pushed the sled crib back to Winterfell.

***JON***

In one of the many forests north of the wall, Jon and Thormund were hunting and right now Jon had his gaze on a large deer. It was no ordinary deer, it was a white hart, with the largest antlers he had ever seen.

"A white king of the woods, Jon, seeing one is symbolic and an omen for something profound. They say killing it will be killing all of your blessings from the gods. It's all a load of horse shit, kill it so we can feed the tribe. I call ownership of the haunches. Hurry and take the shot!" Thormund whispered sharply, eagerly licking his lips for the feast ahead of them.

Jon released the arrow and watched it fly, piercing the white heart through its eyes and brain, killing it instantly. Thormund was only too happy as Jon watched his friend leap for joy and dash over to the writhing body of the majestic white beast. Thormund sliced open the beast's throat to drain it of its blood to draw and keep predators distracted while Jon and Thormund returned to the tribe with pieces of the animal to skin, spice, and cook up.

Around the campfire, Jon watched the flames in the campfire flicker off embers. Watching it made him feel warm not with heat but with something else, life. He watched the women spicing up slabs of meat adding leaves to it and massaging it before laying them on a grill made out of branches. The flames underneath snapped and crackled, breaking the silence.

"Thormund, now that Soma and my girls are out of the hut for a walk, I have something I want to tell you. You're the only one I can trust with my emotions and my thoughts."

"Could we at least wait for the meat to be finish--"

"Lucas told me the location of 'her' and where she's been all this time." Jon began to share.

"I guess not. " Thormund replied. He sat quietly and listened to everything Jon began to share with him.

"When I killed her, Drogon, burned down the Iron Throne. He took her with him and I watched them fly off to God's where. Do you know where he took her, he took her to the bottom of the world. It's a different land there. There is no snow, no rain, only summer, a perpetual summer that seems to have its second sun that never sets or maybe it just dims enough. Lucas told me while his mind was aching with pain that the men and women down there were of cinnamon complexion. Hair as white as snow wore animal skins and rode on giant lizards like horses. There are pyramids down there and they all worship the sun. Lucas only managed to catch a few glimpses of Daenerys walking around with a man. She was exploring her new home."

The more Thormund listened, the more he analyzed how Jon's normally dark and sullen demeanor brightened up talking about Daenerys and learning she was alive. He even noticed Jon smile more and a little light passing through the darkness that was normally alive inside of his eyes."

"What do you think about everything I just shared with you Thormund, what do you think I should do," Jon said.

"Why should you do anything Jon, you're married to a beauty that is very rare to find in our part of the world. You have two daughters and you have finally found peace from everything. Do I have to be the one to remind you that she is a killer, she killed scores of people in that shit-stained city your half-brother is ruling from. Men, women, and children, soldiers, and non-soldiers too. She still has one dragon left. Wherever she is right now, whatever she is doing, she best stays where she is doing what she wants over there. You have your own family, live for them, and make them happy instead of yourself. You already had the chance to make something with her and you made your choice. No one, absolutely no one in Westeros is going to want her to come back. If she does, I hope your brother rallies the entire realm to kill her and her infernal dragon from ever setting foot here again. The age when her house, her family and allies, and especially her dragons, is finished, Jon. Forget about her or you will lose more than just your life. DO YOU HEAR ME, CROW!"

***TYRION***

Months earlier

Tyrion Lannister along with his wife, Anaissa, his seven-blade knights, and soldiers who supported him were inside of a large tent that was a mixture of colors of both Lannister and Anaissa's faith. The outside bore a golden lion riding a white crescent moon with eyes on a dark background. Also in attendance were the lords who rallied to his side and cause.

"Out in the open field, we can have our pikemen form several phalanx balls with longbowmen and crossbowmen firing upwards and through the gaps, picking out several enemies. What say you, my Lord Lannister" Lord Yew said, seated at the same table with a giant detailed map of the Westerlands.

Tyrion remained silent and looked over to Lord Iron Fist for his thoughts. "Lord Tyrion, we have twenty catapults, I like to add to Lord Yew's idea and combine our entire soldiers in one giant phalanx while archers and our catapults are protected in the middle. We can inch closer to those treasonous whore lords until one of our arrows or burning iron balls blasts their war camps."

"Forgive me Lord Iron Fist," Lord Sheep jumped in, "But our lord's wife brought new and strange weapons from her native lands. Twenty giant 'Iron Fingers' as they call them. A combination of a long bow's design and the mechanisms of a crossbow to fire five large arrows at blinding speed. They brought with them a total of one thousand ready-to-use iron fingers."

"Hills and forests are separating our camp from theirs. On the other side, there are a total of thirty thousand soldiers made up of infantrymen, knights, soldiers, pikemen, and archers. And on our side, less than seven thousand men in total." Tyrion pointed out.

Lord Tallgrass looked over at Lady Anaissa who remained quiet, her eyes closed as if in prayer or thought. "Perhaps the lady would like to give her input on how to best deal with her husband's enemies."

"No matter how many ideas or how many plans you come up with, a suicidal charge, a slow battle of attrition towards killing the other lords while hundreds of men die. It does not matter, I know all of you don't want your men to die in vain. If we lose this, it will be the end of your houses and family lines as well as my husband. That is not something I intend to let happen to him but men will die and must die. In three days on the third night, I will break open the moon and rain down on his enemies the might of my powers. For me to do that, I need to pray non-stop, ceaselessly until that night comes and a blood moon shines down on the enemy but if my lord husband wishes for my battle wisdom, then I will say this. My witches will weave a phalanx of walls of fire and melting heat. Inside of the dome five hundred archers, bowmen, and spearmen can fire from gaps my witches create for them to fire out of. All of the fighting men that I brought with me will gladly lay down their lives for me picking out the enemies. If what I saw on the moon's face is true, at the end of these three days of battle, the enemy will retreat to camp. If we can do this for three days, this civil war will be over sooner than expected."

"My wife is powerful, a powerful woman with no dragons and no legendary family name, but she doesn't need any of that. She has the power of the blood moon on her side. We will do as she says, I too will join in these battles. I don't intend to sit back and drink wine while men both Westerosi and foreign die for me. If I die, then it was meant to be but if I live past this, then it was also meant to be. My love, how many domes of flames will be created."

Lady Anaissa smiled while keeping her eyes closed.

***FIRST BATTLE, DAY ONE***

On the other side of the hills and forests that separated the armies, Loren Lannister, the main conspirator who conspired to kill Tyrion, was out on the field on his white armored horse. Fifteen thousand men marched slowly in front of him while he and the other lords and ladies who sided with him rode close by him on their horses. A massive wall of pikes almost dancing step by step pierced the skies above. Leather boots, sabatons, and sandals all marched together in lockstep. Catapults and assault covers pulled by armor-plated horses tracked along.

"I curse the day Lord Tywin Lannister was murdered by that little infernal imp son of his. Even Jaimie and Kevan would have made excellent replacements. His bitch of a sister deserved her fate by that dragon bitch. You are the Westerland's only hope, Loren. The sooner we kill that little shit and his foreign sorceress wife, the easier it will be to get that joke of a King, Bran, to concede to our demands. Either marry a Lannister maiden or The Westerlands will become its independent kingdom as it was in the days of old."

"You speak truthfully, Gino, but if the king does not give in to our demands, rebellion remains the only answer. Without dragons, without a royal marriage and proper alliances, who except his sister will come to his aid."

Loren Lannisters and the other lords marched through abandoned towns and villages, wondering where the people ran off to. During these wars, most civilians would hide in their homes or the surrounding wilderness like the forests or caves and mountains even until the battle or war finished.

"MY LORD, THE ENEMIES HAVE BEEN SPOTTED!" The spotters with horns yelled into. The message was repeated three times by three different spotters until it reached Loren and all of his generals including the other lords and ladies.

"Pincer formations everyone! Five thousand men per pincer! We kill that little shit stain today! You lords and ladies, with me, I want to see him before he and his rag-tag army fall to our greater numbers."

Riding past all the rows of men rushing to form a triple pincer, Loren looked over atop the hill he was on at Tyrion in full armor sitting atop his horse staring back at him defiantly. A column of women in dark oversized hooded robes formed their small circles and expanded outward holding their staffs upwards.

Tyrion had three columns of two thousand men per column standing equally distant from one another.

"It doesn't matter what you do or what you try you fucking imp, you are going to die today! RAIN ARROWS ON THAT FUCKING IMP AND END THIS FOOLISHNESS!"

Loren's men knocked their arrows back, aimed up at the sky, and released on his command, Tyrion's column of witches which had formed a protective circle around him and his column of knights and archers, expanded outwards, ceassly chanting in Ibbeneese. Loren's army fired tens of thousands of arrows down on Tyrion's army at once. Just as those arrowheads neared their targets, several giant walls of flames roiling upwards exploded outwards, forming domes around the knights and soldiers of Tyrion in the nick of time. The arrows turned to ash from the heat before touching the walls of fire.

"What the...is this happening? IS THAT HAPPENING!" Loren shouted at his generals and at the other lords and ladies close by who also couldn't believe their own eyes.

All of the arrows hoping to land on Tyrion and his men turned to ash until every wave produced nothing but mounds of black ash everywhere on the field. From inside his sphere of rotating flames, it was bright inside but not hot, the witches's sorcery worked to protect what belonged to Lady Anaissa.

"Bowmen, longbowmen, crossbowmen, operators of the five fingers, when I command the witches to make openings in the walls, fire at will in the direction of the enemy's men." on his command, holes large enough to fit a man's head and shafts wide enough to fit men through, opened, and on the first chance, arrows from Tyrions side fired at will. The firing of the five fingers in particular created high-pitched whistling and a blast of sharp air when released. The five fingers were truly the most unforgiving and deadliest arsenal at their disposal. With arrowheads as large as a man's fist and as long as a man's arm they flew faster than a dragonfly and pierced through scores of men with shields up, impaling them all together. From the top of the hills they were positioned, men fell to arrows, and bolts, and were turned to human shish-kabobs from irons fingers whistling past them.

Calvary tried to approach the walls of fire, but the witches formed giant fiery hands that swatted at the charge, setting men and horses ablaze. This forced them to retreat while taking arrows from the back. Tyrion commanded and all of his men marched forward, still picking apart hundreds of men with their arrows.

"WITCHES, IF YOU CAN, EXPAND THE SHIELDS OF FIRE AS FAR AS YOU CAN!!"

The Witches, who were vigorously chanting, now chanted so loud and in perfect unison, that the air seemed to vibrate painfully as the fiery walls expanded upwards into the skies and miles apart, swallowing five thousand men in one fiery gulp. Grotesque piles of melted horse and human matter trailed behind Tyrion's men as homes trees and even stones melted before the power of Anaissa's witches.

Anaissa came around to Tyrion's side and pressed a kiss on his lips, shocking his allies and his enemies once more with what happened next. The armor he had on caught on fire, though, Tyrion did not burn. "Now, Charge," Anaissa said softly.