.

.

The dead come and there's no end to it.

Bran sits in the lone, dark chamber, guarded by Brienne of Tarth and a few of the Stark's bannermen. No more can be spared.

He glimpses him in the corridor, as the wights shriek and gather, Meera's hunting knife clutching in his icy, decaying right hand. Bran remembers so vividly how the blade slid into Jojen's intestines. As if he were melted butter, and not precious, living flesh. Jojen is no longer himself… just as Bran is a mere shadow of what had been Brandon Stark of Winterfell, son of Ned Stark.

The men and Brienne push against the horde of dead, ravenous men, but one or two escape. Bran does nothing, sitting, hands folding, waiting for Jojen's hard, clenching teeth to lodge into his throat, to rip apart Bran's veins and tendons.

Valar morghulis.

Bran's eyelids shut, lashes fluttering.

But…

(Valar dohaeris.)

He still needs to watch over the people who were Bran Stark's family. They deserve to live. Dark grey eyes fly open, rolling to the whites. Brienne runs through Jojen with Oathkeeper, as he dies, letting out a mournful, awful noise before collapsing.

"Lord Stark?" she asks, frowning severely as Bran says nothing. He is not there.

Viserion's mind feels slow-churning, fractured into pieces. He died suffering. Bran gains control after a moment, shaking off the Night King from his back, taking flight into the clouds before swooping low. He can feel the wintry air blowing. A torrent of blue, chilling flames quickly engulf the army of wights, destroying their numbers.

Bran lands with Viserion's massive, dragon body, staring down at Queen Daenerys. Tears streak her reddened, smiling face. She calls out to him, Viserion, Viserion, my darling — it's not Bran she sees. Regardless, that does not matter.

Jon runs up, hollering, throwing himself between the dragon and Queen Daenerys, raising Longclaw.

He hesitates, staring bewildered as Viserion's muzzle drops to his height, those beastly, azure-colored eyes set on him. Jon lowers his sword, gazing at his queen and then tugging off his leathered gloves. As soon as Jon's fingers bump against an ice-crusted scale, he closes Viserion's eyes.

Jon.

Bran gasps, feeling his death like a whisper-sensation — a newly born wight crawling in through the back-window, its sword dragging over Bran's neck, drenching him with lifeblood. He remains firmly in Viserion's mind, taking root.

I am here.

.

.

GoT isn't mine. I badly need to see Bran Stark take over Viserion and kick some butt! Thanks for the idea! Requested by glove23: "BRAN/JOJEN, BRAN SEES JOJEN AS A WIGHT in winterfell and oooo maybe jojen gets really close to killing bran, to turning him and bran almost lets him bc he's like. whatever what more can i do before he realizes he shouldn't wish to be with the dead. ur choice whether someone else kills jojen or bran does it." WE LIKE PAIN AND ANGST IN THIS HOUSE.

((Want a request for GoT? I'm doing 100-500 word drabbles of any ship + any prompt until S8 ends. Rules: you need to comment here and provide a ship and prompt, as well if you want NSFW or SFW. The only requests I'll be looking at is if you ALSO commented about the fic you just read as well. It's only fair. You came to this fic to read it and me doing something for you later on is a sweet bonus!))