if grrm never releases twow (which I fear will be the case), I don’t know how I’ll be able to live without seeing a canon snowstorm meet-up.
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Weekly Highlights March 15th to 21st
Sunday will bring a significant winter storm to parts of the Upper Midwest and Great Lakes, with heavy snow and powerful winds creating extremely dangerous travel conditions. Central to Northern Wisconsin, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, and Northern Michigan will experience gusty conditions creating blizzard-like conditions throughout the day. Most areas are expected to see snowfall totals of…
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Whiteout
Late winter big snowstorms keep on coming. Camp Otter continues to gain new snow faster than we lose it in the few thaws we’ve had. The boys are happy though as all the fresh snow added a couple feet of new base to their toboggan hills.
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Seattle is juggling a lot: 🌿 restoring wetlands to fight floods, ⚖️ a 7‑year sentence in a hate‑crime case against transgender women, and ❄️ digging out after a major snowstorm. Get the full picture: https://hyperlocalnews.website/seaen/seattle-environment-crime-and-weather.html
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Banner that’s says “tried to commit in the anti-suicide house” above a table that snowstorm and Madame are sitting at. Cream cacao soon appears
Answer
4. How do you see this ship? Examples: “totally married”, “besties who date sometimes for fun”, “toxic exes that definitely shouldn’t be 10 feet near each other”.
soulmates! (and a power couple ehehe) look, if i were to list everything that made me believe in it, we would be there for next 10 hours lol, so i’ll try to keep it short. nobody can persuade me that their fates are not connected. their stories constantly mirror each other, moreover, i do think that their experience, perspectives and lessons learnt will make them compliment each other both in ruling and everyday life once they meet. it’s my favourite part, tbh, how you just know that they’re guaranteed to respect each other. and a ton of foreshadowing, including literal magic prophecising their meeting? definitely nice for my snowstorm heart <3
7. What would a lovechild between them look like? Have fun!
my general speculation is that dany will definitely have one living human child in the end! my headcanon is that it will be a daughter with jon, named after rhaegar (to become a third child she names after him), but since it’s a daughter i love to think that her name will also sound like she is named after rhaella as well!
as for her physical appearance, i don’t have any specific headcanons. it would be nice for her to have dany’s silver hair, but her eyes more like jon’s, definitely dark.
12. Most likely to sit on the other one’s lap?
dany lol. she’s just so affectionate with people around her, i can’t picture her keeping distance when they’re in private.
15. One to three AUs you would like to see explored with this ship?
oh, definitely this one! i just recently discussed how it’d be possible to spin dany being rhaegar’s heir x jon as rhaegar’s beloved but still illegitimate son. imo, it’d be so interesting!
the other one is what i call a swap au lol. basically dany in rhaegar’s place, the mad king’s daughter, being almost begrudgingly accepted as the only heir after 17 years of being the only child, until a son is born. i haven’t decided yet if i’d like it to be viserys and keep rhaegar as the youngest baby of the family instead of canon dany, OR if it should be rhaegar to create more drama lol (like, how he doesn’t even want to be king and thinks his older sister is far more capable, but everyone ignores it just bc he’s a son and she’s a daughter). i saw an au like this a long time ago tbh, i loved it! this one would also have jon in lyanna’s place tho. i want them to fall in love despite all odds, e.g. dany being betrothed to someone (like robert as their third cousin lmao) and jon also being in no position to marry a princess (maybe he was pressured to join the night’s watch by rickard? so in harrenhal he was a recruiter and had to disguise himself as a mystery knight since it’d be unacceptable for a brother of the watch to enter the tourney’s lists. OR he also could be betrothed to somebody lol). so there will be more of a political problems on top of everything lmao.
22. A headcanon you have for this ship?
jon braiding dany’s hair 🥹 just walk with me here. imagine jon tenderly working on dany’s hair, no matter how short it is at the moment, and never forgetting to add bells symbolising her victories. if you’re a “jon will embrace his darker side more post-resurrection” truther, it can be especially delicious when you imagine him internally going all: oh, this woman? this strong, amazing, gorgeous woman? she’s mine. while adding more and more bells with his own hands. bonus points for them growing old together, dany’s braid getting longer and wearing more bells for more victories in her post-canon years, but this tradition of theirs still remains.
also!!! horseriding together! jon helping dany learn more about westeros, dany sharing her knowledge on essos and everything else jon never got to see being stuck at the wall. jon telling her about maester aemon and dany retelling the stories about rhaegar she heard from barristan. especially if barristan doesn’t survive to the day of dany reaching westeros and having a heart-wrenching death, like aemon.
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“Are you man enough to take the blame for this?”
But it’s snowstorm and her never ending guilt for not stopping her timelines progress somehow
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Hidden Princess VII
Notes: I took these images from Pinterest. As I know they are not AI gen. If they are, please, let me know. I am against genAI and I will take it down.
Pairing: Fem!Jon Snow x Male!Daenerys Targaryen
Tags: au, angst, Jon and Dany grow up together, Fem!Jon has children, snowstorm supremacy, Targcest, eventual smut, angst, slow burn
TW: mature themes, period typical violence and misogyny, mentions of non-con
Summary: In this world, Visenya Targaryen (Fem!Jon) was raised in Dragonstone by her mother, Lady Lyanna, alongside of her uncles, Daeron (Male!Daenerys), and Viserys, for five years until a tragedy fell on them. The Targaryen brothers fled to the East. The princess was hidden in the North, cloaked as the bastard daughter of Lord Stark. Now, 13 years later, betrayed by the Night’s Watch and hunted through Westeros, Lyarra (Visenya) flees across the Narrow sea with her children, seeking refuge, and perhaps revenge, mostly safety from her only hope - Daeron, King of Dragon’s Bay, Father of Dragons.
Chapter 7: The Fallen (wc: 4.7K)
The Third Year of Autumn
The Eleventh Moon of The 301 Year After Conquest
With a violent gasp that travelled through her entire body, she woke up. Startled to her bones, she tried to sit up.
“Easy, easy, girl.” came a kind voice and helped her sit. She was naked as the day she was born, shaking as a leaf in winter winds. A cloak was draped on her back. The clattering of her teeth eased only a nodge.
[[MORE]]Her eyes were not seeing. She saw things. Yet she could not comprehend anything or anyone.
Her mind mashed as a cabbage, her limbs as watery as slush.
“I… I -”. She what?
“Easy, easy.” Ser Davos, it was he. She remembered. “What do you remember?”
“They… they stabbed me… Olly” she stuttered “put a knife to my heart… I.. I di -” her body shook more “I shouldn’t be here…”
“The lady brought you back.” Arra now saw her. The Red Woman.
“What did you see? When you were gone before I brought you back?” she knelt before Arra.
“I- I… nothing.” Arra clutched the cloak as she would for dear life. “Only… only cold.”
“Are you sure?” Melisandre grabbed her shoulders, her eyes wild and red. “Think, think well. You must remember. You must have seen something…”
“My lady, let the girl rest a moment…” Davos attempted to pull her off Arra as Melisandre’s hands were digging deep into her numb shoulders. And she was too tired to make sense of any of it or fight any of it.
“… The Lord of Light chose you. You must have seen him. Fires or… or something. A sign. A voice. Remember!” Arra’s mind was just as numb as the rest of her. She tried to remember. All that came to her was four green amber eyes and two silver-haired heads.
“My lady! Enough!” A commotion followed, but she was staring at the fire in the hearth to acknowledge it. Cold. I wish to never feel it but it is deep in my bones.
“My lady." I hope to be engulfed in fire. "Lyarra!" I wish for it to embrace me. It is so cold.
"Arra!"
"Davos…”
“What do you remember?”
“Cold…”
“No, about yourself. World…” He waved around the room. There were some others in the room. Two other men. “What is your name?”
“I… I am Lyarra. Snow, of Winterfell. Stark… by my brother’s decree." Stark. Warmth. Love. Laughter. Safety. Home.
"Aye. Do you know who I am?”
“Davos… Stannis’ man.” Another string of flashes rushed through her brain. Mediator. Baratheon. Stags. Lions. Lords. Gods.
“Aye, lass. You surely remember me?” came the boastful voice of the redhead man.
“Tormund…" Beyond the Wall. The others. Free Folk. Death. Val. Free. Cold.
Arra looked around the room and saw him. Her family.
"Maester…” he had tears in his eyes.
“Oh, my child. You are truly awake. Allow me to examine you. Please, call for Clydas. Ser Davos, call for…" The Old Dragon. Family. Blood of The Dragon. Visenya. Daeron. Silver. Silver…
At once, Arra threw herself out of the table. Her wobbly legs failed her, and she fell. "My children!” She cried. “My children!”
They were holding her, but she had to get out. She had to get to them.
“My children!" Valia. Robdard. Ghost. Boltons. Knives In Shadows. Twins.
"They are safe. They are safe,” one of them said as they laid her on the table again. She did not have the strength to move. Yet she tried.
“Arra!” Tormund’s voice came as her eyes trained to the ceiling. Unseeing. The horrors had griped her heart. Horror and cold. “They are here. We brought them here. They’re safe with Munda.”
“Tormund… please.” As she turned to him she felt tears falling from her face. When had she started crying? Ghost, her ever loyal companion, licked the tears of her eyes and began to howl.
For the first time since Ghost was born, Arra heard her howl. And she finally felt something other than cold…
It had been two days since she woke. Arra had not left the Maester’s rooms - she had clutched her children to her chest and had not let them go as much as she could. Maester and Free Folk healers had examined her regardless of her many protests. They had deemed her exhausted and dehydrated, overall well. As if she had not returned from the dead but had a pox. It’s not their fault, Arra reminded herself. None of them has seen such a thing, I can not expect them to give me answers.
And she was in dire need of answers. How had that happened to her? Why had she come back? Why not the thousands of people who have died? Why her?
The Red Woman had her theories involving Long Nights and Age of Heroes. But Arra had no desire to entertain her or her faith.
Uncle Aemon, Davos, and Tormund had stayed with her for the two days. They had taken turns sitting with her - they would ask her questions to refresh her mind. Her mind was a bundle of sleeping volcanoes. A rock had to be thrown into, and then, as volcanoes erupt, her memories would erupt and come back to her. Her time warged in Ghost was the most complicated. As Tormund had suggested, she had to deal with it later with a more experienced warg.
Arra was now cradling whiny Robdard in her arms. Valia had been long asleep before the fireplace, but Robbie had a harder time letting go of her. And she had a hard time letting them go. Each time she would let them down, cold would envelop her heart. The only thing other than cold she would feel would be horror. Horror of death. Horror of returning. Horror of what would befall her children. And many other thoughts, all different shades of horrors.
“Shush, baby. Shush, I am here.” Arra was pacing around the room, whispering sweet words to her son. She was still weak, carrying Robdard, and all her limbs ached with exhaustion. Albeit she did not want anyone else’s help. Arra was already struggling because she could not feed them her breastmilk. She had never been able. At the twins’ birth, she had lost much blood and had not woken from a coma for a fortnight. When she could finally hold her babes, her body was filled with too many herbs and medicine for breastfeeding to be safe. Soon, there was no more milk in her breasts.
A soft knock came from the door came and Ser Davos entered. He had been kind to her always, but much more since she woke up. The last two days many had come to her with different inquiries and goals. Some wanted to see for themselves she is alive, or she does not have blue eyes, or… Through it all Davos had done his all to keep them away from her.
“I hope I don’t interrupt, my lady. I saw the lights were on.” He spoke barely above a whisper.
“Oh, please, come in. It is no bother.” Davos took a seat at the Maester’s table. They had occupied the room for the previous days, and Uncle Aemon was more than happy to help them. The room was one of the warmest and had better conditions for the twins. “This one is lil’ cranky, won’t sleep or let go of me.” Arra joined Davos across the table.
“Aye, aye. At this age they are.” he chuckled, she was sure he was reminiscing of his sons. “Appreciate it, my lady. When they grow up they would not even hug you.”
“Ah, I know. From my brothers.” Arra recalled another string of memories coming to her. As before, her heart could not keep up with all the emotions and stood unwavering. “I have no complains.”
“I hear Edd visited you.”
“Many visited me.”
“So you know the situation, my lady. The Night’s Watch is in chaos. They need to choose a Lord Commander. Yet they can’t.”
“It is not my issue, my lord.”
“But it is. They can not go on with the vote because they do not know if there are other traitors among them. Frankly, I can not be sure of it myself. Cotter Pyke is a strong candidate; he has sent the raven that he travels to Castle Black. He would be here in a day or two.” Davos paused for an answer from her. Perhaps a comment on how Pyke left his post without permission. He received nothing from Arra. Sighing, he continued.
“They do not even know if there is a Night’s Watch now that Tormund holds the castle.” Arra had heard the tale from Davos and Tormund. She felt grateful for it. Or at least she thought she did. Cold was still knitted around her heart. The only thing she was sure she felt was the need to protect her children.
“How does any of it concern me, my lord?”
“You are the mediator.”
“I was. Then they put a knife to my heart for it.”
“You had taken an oath to protect and serve, my lady. I know you value your oaths.”
“An oath for a life that ended when I died, Ser Davos.” She hesitated for a moment. An ache came to her heart as a spasm. She clutched Robbie closer to her chest. “I tried to help them. And they killed me for it. I failed.”
“Then get up and fail again.” His voice dripped with determination. “You have been in this room for two days now. You have to leave it one way or another. And when you do, you will be forced to deal with what is outside.”
“I do not have to.”
“You believe you can ignore me, my lady? You may be able to turn your back on the Watch, but what about the Free Folk? The ones that passed the Wall because they trusted you. The ones you promised to look after. Can you really hang your head low and leave this castle, the North? If you can, then we are ready to make the journey. We have been for three days now. Just say the word.”
Arra did not sleep that night either. Even when Robbie fell asleep and she had to lay him down next to his sister. Sitting in front of the window, she gazed at the moon as the cold engulfed her. It was as bright as the night they took her life. How was she supposed to move on from being daggered to death by her allies? What was she supposed to do now?
She knew a ship in the West was prepared to take them East. You would be safer there. The moon told her. It will be sweet to be with family once again. And it would be sweet to be with Dae once again.
But how could she face him? She was not supposed to be here. She was supposed to be ashes dusted amongst the wind. And she did feel how wrong all of this was each moment. Every cell of her body throbbed with pain. She could not sleep for her eyes would not close for more than a few minutes. Eating was a torturous chore - her stomach would not keep anything down. She had gone through these days with nothing but honeyed wine. Arra had not dared to tell any of these to her uncle or other healers. What could they do for me anyway? She did not feel hunger, even so, only felt the frozen walls of her heart. A frozen cage, the only resident was the need to protect her children.
Davos’s words haunted her as well. He was right, you could not turn your back on your people. The moon agreed. Are they my people? Arra asked back. Does it matter if they are or not? No, it does not. But is this the path? The moon had no answer for her. I am afraid. She whispered out loud. I rose too high, loved too hard, dared too much*. I tried to grasp a star, overreached, and fell.* How could I ever try once more? I am afraid.
And it is the only time you can be brave, her father’s voice said back. Arra left the window and sat next to her children before the fire. Cradling both their heads, she made the decision. Then I shall be brave.
The next morning dawned with a biting frost. Before the looking glass, Arra put her hair into a bun and stood staring at herself. She tried to pinpoint the differences. She looked the same. She looked very different. Her face was paler than usual, only a few shades warmer than Ghost’s white fur. The scar on her right eye was redder than usual, seeming like a string of blood on her face. Her skin had sunk into her collarbones and hips from losing weight, and her muscles were less defined as she was younger. The scar on her left shoulder was the same, only redder on the pale canvas of her skin. Five stab wounds through her torso… she could not find any familiarity in them. Three across her belly, one under her right ribs, and one below her left breast, right into her heart. They were not scars, Arra realized. They had not closed or healed - the wounds were frozen. She slowly raised her hand and felt them one by one. Moving around the wounds felt as normal skin. going closer to the small hills of stabs felt as dried blood. First gently, then with more force, she pressed, waiting for them to bleed, the puddle of her blood from that night before her eyes. The blood never came. She touched the one over her heart lastly. Nothing happened. What else can happen? The worst has already happened to me. Now I have to carry these open scars until the end. Arra wrapped herself in a black cloak with dark fur. Longclaw hung from her hip, the dagger from another. Entrusting children to Munda, she left the tower, White Wolf on her heels.
“It’s good to see you out and around, my lady,” Ser Davos said, sounding satisfied.
“You knew I would.” Arra’s face was stoic, her eyes trained on the stairs she was taking down.
He chuckled. “Aye, yet you can never be too sure."
At the bottom of the stairs, she faced him. Now it was her voice dripping with determination. "I still have not decided what I will do afterwards, where we will go. But I have justice to serve in your fallen king’s name, in my fallen body’s sake. I believe they are in the cells."
He spared a look at Ghost. "Aye, would you like to talk to them?”
“I have nothing to ask them. How is Allister?”
“Still alive. Not functioning well, however.”
“Can he stand?”
“Aye.”
“Then he is well enough to stand before the hanging rope. Who is in charge?”
“Edd, sort of.”
“Would you lead me to him?"
"He is in the King’s Tower."
As they made their way toward the tower, Arra decided to indulge the question that had been bugging her.
"Lord Davos, I must ask you something about your Queen. If it’s overstepping, please, feel free not to entertain it.”
“Alright, my lady. Ask away.”
“Why did you not follow your Queen when she left Castle Black?”
“I wanted, but she did not allow me.”
“Why would she not? You have been her husband’s most loyal servant for years.”
The old smuggler sighed. “I was, my lady. You have the right of it. But she used Stannis, not allowing me to go with him in his campaign against the Boltons, as a reason not to take me.”
“It is peculiar that Stannis did not take you. He was on a harsh mission.”
“I was needed here as well. The situation was dire with wildlings.” It was clear that not even Davos believed this was the reason.
“From little I know of you, you are a very persistent person, good Ser.” As they made their way around the castle, some stood and openly stared at her while others quickly went further away from her. Mostly from Ghost, she mused. “Why did you not insist on serving her?”
“I was serving Stannis and his heir, my lady. Without his blood, there is no claim, there is no fight. The only thing Queen can do is to find a safe place and wait through the mess we are in.”
“She’s better, my lord. Winter is coming.”
“Aye, it is, my lady.” Before the entrance to the king’s tower, Arra ceased walking and faced him.
“Why are you here, my lord? You are free to go wherever you want. You can return to your children, to your family. Why are you helping me?”
“I can not return to my family, my lady. Stannis’ enemies already hunt them. My presence will only put them in more danger.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“Stannis believed in this fight. I do as well. I saw it with my own eyes. This is the only war that matters.” Arra remembered it was Davos who convinced Stannis to come to the Wall’s aid. The war against the others mattered to him; she could see it.
“And you are willing to take me across the Narrow Sea?”
“Aye, my lady. I will aid you and your children any way I can.”
“Why?”
“You are one of the good ones. In the moons I have known you, you have done everything you could and more for the good of people. Not only your people’s, but everyone’s. That is valuable and rare, my lady.”
“Thank you, ser." Could I trust these sweet words?
Edd was startled to see them as she barged through the door. Satin and Othell Yarwick were next to him. Without looking at them, Arra trained her eyes on Edd.
"My lady, it’s good to see you,” he said, getting up from the table Stannis used to sit. his eyes dodged, unsure between Davos and her.
“You as well. Lord Commander, shall I call you now?” Othell shifted on his legs - his face sour, his body tense. Why was he not in charge as the First Builder?
“Oh, no, no, my lady. Gods forbid. I am just putting some things in order. Would you like to sit?”
“I do not have time. When will you hold the vote?”
“Lord Pyke arrived today, we thought we would do it tonight.”
“Aye, do it fast. Before you hold the vote, inform me about the candidates. No one will be nominated before approved by us.”
“Us?”
“Aye. I and Free Folk.” The men were surprised. Othell made a move to speak but was shortly cut off by her assertive tone.
“Edd, let’s not make it needlesly tiring for both of us," sighing she began. "Tormund holds the castle now. I will send other Free Folk leaders to take the rest of them as well. For the respect I have for this millennia-old entity, I am not dissolving it. You, black brothers, will continue to serve the Watch. And the Watch will continue to serve the realm of people. But it can not go on as it did before. Things will be different if we want to survive the winter. And we do. We will discuss it further. Now prepare pyres and execution posts. I am taking the heads of the mutineers this afternoon.” Edd looked dumbfounded. “Is all understood, Edd?”
“Aye, it will be done.”
Arra doubted that. “Edd, make sure all the black brothers are aware of the situation.” She took a few steps towards him. “That they do not hold this castle, the Wall, or the Gift.” Her voice was kneaded with ice, her eyes grey fires burning through him. “You had a chance, a choice, and you chose to betray me. It will not go unanswered." I could not punish my father’s, my brother’s treasons. They all went unanswered. Neither could I punish the ones who took my sisters, my mother. My homes. My husband. At least, I can punish the ones who took my life. Rage leaked through the frozen walls of her heart as she left the tower.
"Tormund.”
“You ’re storming thru’ the castle, wolf."
"Busy day. We have much to speak.”
“That we do.” Redhead sounded happy and proud.
“Let’s head to my chambers."
They found Munda standing above her sleeping children before the fire. When she noticed Arra and her father come in, she slowly gathered her weapons and approached them.
“Thank you, Munda. I owe you much.” Arra put soft kisses on both of the twins.
“Do not worry yourself. I love when they are still babies and do not give you a heart attack every moment running to Gods know where.”
“We have some things to discuss with Tormund. Would you join us?”
“Nay, I’ve got to go to the camp. You save the world, I have to look after my spawns.”
“Alright. Thank you, Munda.” She gave Arra a wink, her father a kiss as she left.
Taking seats around the Maester’s table, they each nursed ale. Tormund broke the comfortable silence as her mind wandered about her children.
"I can see your mind is busy from here. You plan something,” it wasn’t a question. “You have the same look in your eyes.”
“What look?” Arra entertained him.
“The one you had when we approached the Wall and talked with your Stag King. And 30,000 of us passed the Wall without a scratch."
Arra chose to ignore the statement. "Well, we have much to arrange. I will execute the traitors this afternoon, and after the rest will hold a vote to choose their Commander.” Tormund hummed thoughtfully to it. “Firstly, I need answers.”
“Aye, Arra. Let’s hear it.”
“How do you hold the castle? How much power does the Watch still have?”
“‘Lil to none, wolf. We control the food supplies, the entrances, the armory, and the Gate to the North. I have people in every tower. We watch over each of them every day.”
“How many Free Folk are here?”
“3 of us for every one of them. We took the castle with fewer. But over time, many came.” He said as he sipped another mouthful.
“You had told me Free Folk is doing well.”
“Aye, they are. We have more food. And now that crows do not breathe down our necks, we can hunt and wander better.”
“Good. At least something good came out of it.” Tormund agreed with a nod. His eyes were full of questions. She knew he wanted to talk about the resurrection, but she did not have it in her now. “What about other castles?”
“I sent messages to Eastwatch, Icemark, Greyguard, and Stonedoor when we came for you.” He means the wargs communicated through various animals carrying each other news. “Icemark was already ours. After we took Castle Black, they seized Greyguard. I have sent more men to the West.”
“Good, we will need them. What of the rest of them?”
“Your old healer did not let anyone send any raven. He controls all the communication.” That eased Arra’s worries. Her uncle knew what to do.
"Good. When will your people be at Stonedoor?”
“They stay in Icemark, wait for our call. After we say take the castle, it will be done in a day or two.”
“Aye, it takes a day to get to Stonedoor. Tell them to do it now. I do not want any harm to come to Iron Emmett. He understands the dangers. Now, who have you assigned to Greyguard and who will hold Stonedoor?”
“I have sent Signor to take Greyguard. He holds it with your cousin.”
“Good. Alys will know what to do. So will Sigorn. Only Thenns are in Greyguard then?”
“Nay, Orell’s clan went with him.”
“Skinchangers and Thenns.”
“Aye, wolf, aye,” he laughed, his beard wet with oversipped ale. “Longspear Ryk leads the men to Stonedoor.”
“He shall do well. Unlike Greyguard, Stonedoor will be a delicate measure.”
“He will, he will. I sent Dryn with him,” he paused a moment. “I have something else to tell ya, wolf.” His eyes shone. Arra was not sure what was going to come.
“What, Tormund?”
She raised her cup to her mouth and almost had another death from choking when Tormund said. “Mance is back.”
“What do you mean?” She tried to slow her coughs to keep children from waking, but nothing made sense.
“He is returning. We have sent scouts for him. They will bring him right to the castle. I know you would want to see him.”
“How…”
“I don’t know. His tale to tell.” He boasted with laughter. Mance was back. A warmth ran through her body.
“Now, what else you wanted to tell me, wolf?”
She needed a moment to gather her thoughts. After washing her sore throat with ale, she tried to focus. “Before they choose their next Commander, we will approve who can be elected.”
“Wise.”
“Aye, I will not risk another Thorne. We hold three of the six castles. Instead of taking them one by one, after the vote we shall have them all.”
“You know how much I hate the crows, but I must ask what of the Watch.”
“The realm has turned its back on them. They are broken and insufficient. The Wall keeps us alive. If they keep holding it, they will kill us all.”
“So you want us to hold it.”
“Not only Wall but the Gift as well. Free Folk understands the importance of what is coming, and Watch understands the politics of the South. Together, we may survive the winter. I know you are worried about the numbers. Do not be. I mean to let the rest of the Free Folk pass the Wall.”
Tormund raised his brows. “What will be your conditions?”
“They will help to garrison the Wall and settle in the Gift. They will not harm, rape, or steal the innocent, small folk. I had sent Dalia to convince the rest of the clans before Stannis fell. Can you talk to one of your wargs and send her the new conditions?”
“I will.”
“I do not know where she is.”
“I know where she was headed, your message will be delivered.”
“Thank you. If she can convince them, then we will have 30 or 40,000 added to our numbers.”
“And how will Northerners respond to 60,000 Free Folk living in the Gift?”
“If it were Father’s time, there would not be a chance of surviving in the Gift. But Ramsay can not unite the North, let alone the realm. We will still have some pushback, though. Free Folk shall be ready.”
“At least we will not burn our Gods or swear the Watch’s oaths. We will persevere.” Tormund raised his cup the last time and finished his drink.
“Another one?”
“Nay, gotta go to the top of the Wall. Or perhaps I should go to the camp. Aye, I will do that. Give me another cup, then.” Arra finished her ale, watching Tormund drink his second in one sip. “I will call for other chiefs and tell them your plans. Do you want to be there? Or maybe wait for Mance?”
“No, you do it. We have to move quickly. I have already warned the Watch. Now we shall watch them as eagles. We can not afford to wait for Mance.”
“Whatever you say, wolf.” As he got up, she asked.
“When will Mance be here?”
“Probably after dusk. If I go now, I will not be here in the afternoon. I can stay if you want.” For me, when I execute my murderers.
“Thank you, Tormund. Torghen will be here.” His first son was just as brave and clever as his father, if not more hot-blooded.
“Aye.” He paused a moment at the door. “You have a soft heart, wolf. Do not let winter harden it more than necessary.” He turned and left, saying nothing more.
Arra took a seat between her children. As she played with their soft hair, she mused whether there would be a soft heart if all her the frozen walls of her heart melt.
Text
Hidden Princess VI
Notes: I took these images from Pinterest. As I know they are not AI gen. If they are, please, let me know. I am against genAI and I will take it down.
Pairing: Fem!Jon Snow x Male!Daenerys Targaryen
Tags: au, angst, Jon and Dany grow up together, Fem!Jon has children, snowstorm supremacy, Targcest, eventual smut, angst, slow burn
TW: mature themes, period typical violence and misogyny, mentions of non-con Summary: In this world, Visenya Targaryen (Fem!Jon) was raised in Dragonstone by her mother, Lady Lyanna, alongside of her uncles, Daeron (Male!Daenerys), and Viserys, for five years until a tragedy fell on them. The Targaryen brothers fled to the East. The princess was hidden in the North, cloaked as the bastard daughter of Lord Stark. Now, 13 years later, betrayed by the Night’s Watch and hunted through Westeros, Lyarra (Visenya) flees across the Narrow sea with her children, seeking refuge, and perhaps revenge, mostly safety from her only hope - Daeron, King of Dragon’s Bay, Father of Dragons.
Chapter 6: White Wolf (wc: 3K)
The Third Year of Autumn
The great White Wolf had kept howling all night until two black brothers opened the lock of the cage she was put in. The moment she was free, she bolted towards the Maester’s Tower.
There were people everywhere, in black. And she was the white shadow passing through the yard.
[[MORE]]White Wolf had knocked out some people on her way to the room where she was in the Tower.
She had to get to her.
The door was closed.
She jumped on it to open.
It did not bulge.
She started violently scratching the wood.
Loud voices came from the room, and the door opened.
White Wolf jumped inside. Ran directly towards her.
She was lying on a long table. The oldest man was holding her hand, as he stared at the floor with unseeing eyes.
Ghost started licking her face, her hands.
She was cold.
She did not answer her calls.
She did not stroke the White Wolf’s fur. Or gave her a small smile…
…She was trapped. She did not remember. She only remembered losing the breath in her lungs. Now she is breathing again. But she is not. Or does she? …
…Ghost lay next to the table, she lay. A man in black attempted to approach the table. White Wolf got up immediately and started sneering until the man backed down, hands in the air. Ghost got on the table, startling the old man, and began repeatedly nudging her. Her eyes were open. But she was not seeing. Somehow, Ghost understood this. She was not seeing her beloved wolf or anything else.
Ghost began to howl once again. Every moment her wail was getting louder. Her sad song echoing through the room, passing through the walls, was blanketing the entire castle in grief…
…She feels a heartbeat. In the body, she is in. But she remembers how her heart stopped. After a knife to it. Why does she feel a heartbeat?…
… Ghost was back on the floor before the hearth. When did she get there?
There were five men in the room she recognised. The old man, his helper, Clydas, two black brothers who freed her from the cage, and a man of the South. They seemed to be fighting.
“…She surely has allies who would be willing to take revenge. Or at least some retaliation,” said the voice of the man without some fingers, Ser Davos.
“We can not possibly trust them. How do we know they would not take over the full castle or the watch?” said another. He was one of the men who had opened the lock to the ice cage they had put her in.
“Perhaps they should, Edd. Whatever they do would be better served with traitors. My lady was brave and just. She did not deserve this betrayal.” Spoke to another black brother with long black hair and a pretty face.
“Many will not see it as betrayal like us, Satin,” said the first man in black.
“It does not matter. She did not swear our oaths, yes. But she still swore to protect and serve the Watch. And our oaths suggest we have to protect each other, the ones who swore to serve the Watch. We failed to protect her, and they betrayed her.” Edd seemed to be unable to argue with that.
“Do you think they will come, maester?” Ser Davos interrupted.
“Aye, you are wasting time arguing. Thorne will be here soon to get the body. I will not hand her over to them. Go, go call on Free Folk. They do not take betrayal well. She is one of them. Her children are their people. They will come.”
“I will go then. I will tell them to bring men and giants. If we are doing this, then we shall do it better. Satin is right.”
“Aye, go, Edd. Be fast. Find Tormund. Tell him what happened, and tell him to do what needs to be done. And… and her children. They must be protected.”
Davos seemed startled. “They surely would not fall that low, maester.”
“You could never know the nature of men. Once you fall low enough to stab an ally in the back, you can surely fall much lower.” The old man got up and went to stand next to her head, lying on the table. Tracing her face, he closed her unseeing eyes…
… Cold. Why is it feeling cold? She approached closer to the fire. As close as enough for her fur could catch fire. Since when does she have fur? Why is she so cold?
She stared into the fire. She wanted to jump in to stop the cold. It was beautiful. Every time it burned, it had many different colors. Oranges, ambers, whites. The many colors reminded her of something. An eye. No, four eyes. They were greens, browns, and ambers. Whose eyes were those?..
… The first stream of sunlight was brightening the dark night. There was a commotion coming up, and she had to be there. Ghost left her place before the hearth and made it to the door. Ser Davos, who kept the watch over her all night, attempted to stop the direwolf. Yet not even walls could stop her. She was taller than Ser Davos and as wide as the door.
Bolting out of the room, the voice of commotion got louder. When Ghost arrived in the yard, there were many men in black lying on the floor. Men, women in grey furs fighting with Black brothers, Giants barricading the south of the castle, catching anyone who dared to flee. Most of the battle was over. War cries are slowing down. It was fast. People in grey furs easily took the castle. It seemed there was not much left for Ghost.
Until she saw him running towards the southeast of the castle.
He tried to run away.
He was not fast enough.
In one jump, Ghost pushed him to the ground. Thorne’s screams filled the entire yard as everyone froze, watching the wolf.
The great White Wolf had put its entire weight on the man. As he struggled to push the wolf off of him, Ghost buried her fangs into his right shoulder. With a loud crack, White Wolf tore Lord Commander’s right arm from its shoulder.
The frozen yard was now filled with bone-chilling screams as Thorne screamed, cried, and gasped for air. Throwing the torn arm across the yard, Ghost stood on front legs and began her howl. This time, the sound was filled with might. And rage. She was warning everyone in all the corners, her voice carried her song.
As White Wolf went for another arm, Ser Davos shouted above the cries of Thorne.
“Ghost! Ghost! Girl, stop! He will die if you keep going.”
Ghost stopped her descent on Thorne, slowly raising her head, and she locked her eyes directly with Davos. Her eyes were as red as the snow Thorne lay on, colored with his own blood.
As contemplating what Davos said, Ghost gave another howl and walked off the man.
White Wolf made way back to her in the Maester’s Tower. And did not leave her side for the rest of the day…
…Who was she remembering? Those eyes with many colors? Who did they belong to? …
…Ghost was back in the room before the fire hearth. The old man was still seated by her, holding her hand as he spoke.
“Where are the twins, Tormund?”
“I left them with my daughter, Munda, after you sent word to protect them. Do not fret, healer. I put Val’s men all roun ‘em. They will be protected.”
“Thank you, Tormund.” He took a breath before continuing. “They must come to the castle to see their mother off… She needs to have her blood leave this world.”
“Aye, healer. You speak true. I will bring them myself.” Tormund turned to her. His eyes haunted. “I can not believe she is gone. We have not known each other long, but we have survived much together. She was a sister,” he cursed harshly. “We caught them all. They are in ice cells. Thorne will survive as well.”
“They will answer for their sins, I swear, Tormund. They will pay the price with fire and blood. I will make sure of it before I go.” The old man took a breath, raising his head with unseeing eyes, he looked into Tormund’s. “I will take the children with me.”
Tormund sighed. “Aye, I knew you were gon tell me that.”
“How?”
“Arra told me and made me promise that if something were to happen to her, I would have to let you take the children.” He sighed once more. “Where will you take them?”
“To safety. Away from the Wall and Boltons.”
“South?”
“East.” Aemon got up from his chair. “On your way back, please, send Ser Davos here. He shall arrange the ship…
…Now she was descending to the dungeons. Following some men who carried a body. A woman. She did not like it. The cold was just growing.
Whose eyes were they? Who was she remembering?..
… Ghost followed Ser Davos. Something drew her to him. He was the one who had found her. As Davos took the lift to the top of the mountain, Ghost stepped in.
"Ah, wanna ride to the top?” White Wolf gave no response.
“I am sorry. I wish I could make it to her faster. She was one of the good ones.” He raised his head to the full moon as the cranking and creaking of the lift filled the night air.
… The moon… Silver… Like their hair. Whose hair?
Who is the woman lying on the ice cells?…
... Ser Davos shook his head. “Bless the Seven. I am going mad… talking to a wolf."
Once they made their way out of the lift, the knight went to the Red Woman standing on the top of the Wall, staring into the Lands of Always Winter.
"I hope I do not interrupt, my lady.”
“You interrupt nothing,” Melisandre spoke without facing any of them.
“I assume you know why I am here, my lady?”
“I assume I will after you tell me.”
“It’s about Lady Mediator.”
“Former Mediator…”
“Does she have to be?” A silence followed as she kept staring into the north.
“I see you have a new companion, ser.” was Red Woman’s only answer.
“You could say that, I suppose.” Davos turned to look at Ghost, who stood unbothered and unmoved.
“What of children?” Davos’s head snapped towards her.
“Do not look at me as that, Ser. I will not harm them. I only meant why White Wolf is not with them… I have seen them in fires. They will grow - ride wolves and lead armies…”
“You dare to still talk of your fires? After what happened to him? After you led Stannis to his end in a Godforsaken, damned frozen land. He died for nothing. In a miserable way. In a worthless way.” Davos shouted.
“Aren’t you here for what I see on fires as well? For what I can do with the power Lord of the Light gives me. Yet you judge me as…” Melisandre’s voice as ice as the Wall, cut through the night air.
“No, I do not believe in your fire. But I believe you. I have seen you birth a shadow. Kill a man leagues away…”
“I could do those only because Lord of the Light aimed me to.” She turned away to leave, but Davos caught up with her
“Well, I have seen you do it, my lady. Not the…”
“What do you want from me, Davos?” She stopped in her tracks and faced him.
“Is there a way… a magic, a spell to bring her back?”
“I…I do not know it.”
“But there is. It is possible.”
“There was a man who came back from the dead more than a few times. But it should not be possible.”
“Do it then.”
“It is not that simple. He was the chosen I am not or she is not.”
“You also thought Stannis was the chosen one. And you were wrong. How can you be sure now? How can you know that your Lord does not choose or bless Lady Lyarra? What do you have to lose?"
Ser Davos left Melisandre on the Wall, and for two days she did not do anything but stare at her fires…
…She was running. Ever since she left the lift. She was running through a dark forest.
Tall trees are a figment, thick woods a maze. She was running. Where she did not know.
Whose eyes were they?
Whose hair were they?
Under the moonlight, she made it to a camp. People in heavy furs parted their ways as she moved towards a tent.
Who were these people? Who is in that tent?
Babes. There were two babes. A boy with the eyes she remembered. A girl with the hair she remembered.
Yet she did know them.
Yet for two days she stood on guard, and did not leave their sides…
…On the third day of her death, White Wolf joined the entourage to the castle it happened. She rode next to the cart twins were in on the chilly morning.
In the castle, men in black were preparing a pyre in the blood-stained yard. Tormund stood ahead of the group and stared at the pyre as Edd approached.
"It’s gon be ready by the evening,” he remarked gloomily.
“Aye,” was the only answer of the Giantsbane, who still looked at the pyre.
“Maester said to bring the kids to his chambers.” Edd finally caught his attention.
“Arra?”
“We gon bring her up to prepare”…
… “Protect them. That is all that matters.” Rang through her mind for two days. Nothing else mattered. Them. The babes. But now, back in the castle, she could not breathe. Her heart…is beating. But it stopped. She was sure of it. Who is the pyre for?…
… Twins lay on the old man’s bed as he traced their faces one by one. With every stroke of his wrinkly hands, the babes would giggle more as Ghost stood guard by the door.
“You get along with them well,” the redheaded woman said.
“Oh, I try my best.”
“Aye, it is no easy thing. I have three of my own.”
“Munda, I presume. Tormund’s daughter.”
“Aye, she is.” Tormund’s voice rang proudly around the room. “She and the kids want to join the journey as well.”
“It would be wonderful if she has taken care…
… Munda. She remembered her. She was lying in blood as the redhead handed her something. No, two. She handed her two small bundles. And cries…
”… Aye, twenty of Val’s men gon’ join you. And fifteen of Mace’s. I will give you another ten, including Munda, aside from the kids. All warriors and spearwives. I’d have given you more, but your fingerless knight said you need small numbers.“
"Thank you, Tormund. I hope it was not trouble, and they are willing.”
Tormund broke into laughter. “Funny of you to believe I can force any of 'em to do anything, old healer. Many would come. Willingly. There are thousands among us who would go to the other end of the world to survive them”…
… Them. She somehow knew he meant the death itself. A cold end. As she was feeling now…
… “The preparations are underway, Maester.” Ser Davos had joined them. “I had kept a spare ship at the Bay of Ice, at the end of the Gift. A precaution for Stannis. Well…” he drifted off.
“It is going to be a long journey, my lord.”
“Yes, maester. With Ironborn, it can be dangerous as well. But I have been at sea since I could walk. We will pass the seas, if Mother is kind…
… Mother. Where was her mother?
Who are these babes?…
”… tell me where we will be heading. Essos, I know that much.“
"Meereen, good Ser. We are headed to Meereen.”
Ser Davos was startled. “What possible protection could we have at Slaver’s Bay?”
“Much, my lord. My nephew has taken the cities and freed the slaves. Daeron rules Meereen with his armies and dragons.”
Tormund barked another laugh. “Dragons?” He laughed amused, and so was his daughter, cooing at the twins.
“I have heard the rumors.” Davos was earnest, though. “And you believe it true. How would he accept two Stark children…
… Stark children. Grey, black, greige, ginger. Warmth. Laughter. Home…
…"Lord Eddard was a just and honorable man, my nephew will understand”…
… Lord Eddard. Safety. Love. Kindness. Loss. Pain. Rage…
… They carried the body from ice cells to the old man’s room. Ghost got up and went to her side as she lay on the table. Her face was as white as the Wall itself. Hed body timid, radiating cold. The shock forever engraved on her alluring face …
… She is the one from the ice cells. The pyre is for her…
…“ Lived her life as a Stark. I only wish she could have died as one,” Said the voice of Ser Davos …
… She was a Stark… Stark… Warmth. Love. Laughter. Safety. Home…
…“I pray to the gods for her children to have better,” the old man said.
… The old man was the Old Dragon. Like Daeron. Like … like…
Like who?…
… “Aye, her children…”
… Her children. HER children. Twins are her children…
… The blonde twin broke out in wails, and not even a moment later, her brother joined in. White Wolf, leaving her post, approached them to nudge their little heads with her nose. The cries slowly turned into watery whines…
… They are her children. Grey eyes. Like Stark. Silver hair. Like Targaryen. Green, blue, amber eyes. Like Val. They are her children. She remembered again their bloodied face as she held them the first time.
Her.
Mine.
Me.
I am her. I am the woman who lies on the table…
And the memories flashed through her…
“My name…my real name is Visenya Targaryen.”
“When the snows fall and the white winds blow…”
“For the watch."
I am the blood of the Kings of Winter, First Men.
"I never had a sibling.”
“Now you have two. I will teach you…”
“For the watch."
I am the daughter of She-Wolf and Last Dragon.
"I did not want to be Visenya. I had a home and family. I did not want to lose them.”
“For the watch."
"I miss my mom…”
I am the blood of Old Valyria and Dragons. I will endure.
So will my children.
“Go. Call someone. They stabbed me.”
“…the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.”
“For the watch."
… They had stabbed her. No, they had killed her. And now she was trapped inside Ghost…
"Wait! Wait!” Red Woman burst through the door as Arra’s mind was twirling through her new reality. Melisandre came before Davos. “I will do it. I know the spell.”
Text
@drsncw asked: take me home. (to ronnie bc SNOWSTORM)
He doesn’t notice her at first, fully entranced with the project he’s working on in his ‘office’ at STAR Labs that he and Cisco cornered off years ago for Ronnie’s absurd projects. It’s much like Caitlin’s medical bay, but way, way messier. Blueprints are scattered, some were generated digitally, but quite a few were sketched by Ronnie himself.
This morning’s coffee was abandoned on the corner of the desk.
When he noticed her lingering at the doorway, he turned fully toward her, taking the pen cap out of his mouth. “Cait!” He grinned, stepping toward her, before his face dropped into concern as he took in her expression. “Sure, of course,” He put his pen down fully and began reaching for his jacket. “Are you alright?”
Text
Snowstorm a sat by the edge of the pool, seeing her reflection in the water. Her feet were submerged and it was deathly silent. She could hear her own thoughts as well as Dee’s all too loudly. She started crying again. That’s all she ever did. When her tears rippled in the water, Obsidian drifted towards the surface, making Snowstorm jump back. Obsidian speaks in a soft tone she used to use on rescued hatchlings.
“Fear not child, I mean no harm,”
Snowstorm wiped some tears.
“Pardon me if I disturbed you maam…and I am no child,”
“Forgive me,”
“No offense taken,”
Obsidian moved enough so Snowstorm could dip her feet back in the water.
“What brings you here, metal thing?”
“You can call me snowstorm…I just got overwhelmed. I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone lived here yet,”
“Do not apologize little one. I can tell there is a storm within you. Would you like to discuss?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t know how to put my sin of life into words,”
“Please slow down…it is not a sin to live,”
“But it is a sin for all I’ve done,”
Snowstorm breaks down again, sobbing into her hands. Tears leak between the cracks of her fingers.
“My inaction…my ignorance…doomed us all…”
Obsidian pushes herself out of the water enough to soft brush Snowstorms tears. To anyone Snowstorm looked like a grown mech but to Obsidian all she could see was a sad little hatchling full of regret and sorrow.
“Breathe deep little one. Let’s gather our thoughts,”
Snowstorm sniffles and wipes her cheeks.
“I’m sorry…usually I’m better than this,”
“Do not apologize child. Such grief needs to escape at some point no matter how hard you push it down,”
Snowstorm just sniffles and shiver, looking down at the water.
“Can metal beings like you swim?”
Obsidian speaks even gentler, trying to ground Snowstorm in her flurry of despairing thoughts.
“N-no…I’d sink right to the bottom…but it’s my dream death,”
Obsidian doesn’t interrupt Snowstorms downward spiral of a thought.
“To sit at the bottom of a body of water and let it fry my systems and keep me out of reach…”
Snowstorm realizes what she’s saying.
“Primus I’m so so sorry I don’t know what’s gotten into me. We just met I shouldn’t burden you with such thoughts,”
“Do not apologize child. I can only imagine how hard it must be to keep that inside for so long,”
Snowstorm chokes out a sob again.
“May I ask why you think so painfully of yourself?”
“I-I had a close one. Her name was Orion. Sh-she was…she was always odd and I knew that but I thought we were friends. But now…now she has the matrix and a new frame…I shot her on accident but she just laughed…”
Snowstorm stumbles a bit over her words, trying to get all her feelings out.
“Slow down please…take your time…so your friend was odd? How so?”
“Sh-she was always sort of violent. Like she never understood why hurting others was wrong. She liked it. But I thought I could guide her away from those thoughts but…but I feel like she was just faking…”
“I see…and then you say she got the matrix?”
Snowstorm sobs again. It takes longer to recuperate.
“I-it was such a long journey…I should’ve done better…stopped her somehow…I was a horrible friend…”
Snowstorm weeps into her hands, her shoulders trembling. Obsidian reaches up and pulls Snowstorm into the water, sending a protective spell around her body so the water won’t touch her. Snowstorm leans into the hug and just sobs.
“It’s alright little one. You’re never alone,”
“C-can I stay a while..?”
Obsidian nods, petting Snowstorms helm gently. She doesn’t comment on the faint blood that leaks into the water near Snowstorms shoulders. She just holds Snowstorm until she’s ready.
Text
Hidden Princess II
Notes: I took these images from Pinterest. As I know they are not AI gen. If they are, please, let me know. I am against genAI and I will take it down.
Pairing:Fem!Jon Snow x Male!Daenerys Targaryen
Tags: au, angst, Jon and Dany grow up together, Fem!Jon has children, snowstorm supremacy, Targcest, eventual smut, angst, slow burn
TW: mature themes, period typical violence and misogyny, mentions of non-con
Summary: In this world, Visenya Targaryen (Fem!Jon) was raised in Dragonstone by her mother, Lady Lyanna, alongside of her uncles, Daeron (Male!Daenerys), and Viserys, for five years until a tragedy fell on them. The Targaryen brothers fled to the East. The princess was hidden in the North, cloaked as the bastard daughter of Lord Stark. Now, 13 years later, betrayed by the Night’s Watch and hunted through Westeros, Lyarra (Visenya) flees across the Narrow sea with her children, seeking refuge, and perhaps revenge, mostly safety from her only hope - Daeron, King of Dragon’s Bay, Father of Dragons.
Chapter 2: Hidden Princess (wc: 2K)
The Second Year of Autumn
Arra woke up from yet another nightmare. Memories of Hardhome flashing before her eyes.
It had been a fortnight since they had been back from Hardhome. They could save only 3,000 and lost over 5,000 people to the Others. Women, men, children, and the elderly all had fallen to the death.
And then they had risen.
[[MORE]]With only a raise of an Other’s arms who seemed as their leader. Free Folk had dubbed him the Night King.
What was even more terrifying is that Arra had killed an Other. While her steel sword had shattered into ice pieces when it met its ice spear, her Longclaw had turned the Other into pieces. The coldness she felt that moment still haunted her heart, making her shiver many times a day.
Arra turned her attention towards her babes to convince herself she is back and safe. She is close to home. The babes fluttered their eyes, clinging to each other. Yet new fears plagued her. Ever since her crash-out two moons ago in Godwoods, she had yet to be able to take control of her fears.
Arra noticed it should be about dawn. She decided to leave the children in the camp. Black brothers barely tolerate me; they won’t tolerate my children. She mused once again. Now she was debating whether she should leave Ghost with the babes. Not that babes would be in danger amongst Free Folk. They do not harm little children. Unless they are cannibals, and there were not any amongst the 30,000 who had passed the wall. Some of them had taken the black and joined the watch. Some had taken commands in the old castles alongside the Wall without swearing the Watch’s oaths. Most of them, more than 20,000, were living in the large camp in the Gift. They were facing constant pushbacks from the South, mostly from the Boltons. They had attacked the camp several times. That’s how Val had fallen as well.
Arra finally decided to take Ghost, who was currently curled close to the entrance of their tent rather than the babes. Ghost had been acting weird since she’d been back from Hardhome. She wondered if it was because Ghost can see her nightmares or memories like Arra does hers. It would explain why Ghost was unusually clingy. Since the fortnight she had returned, Ghost left for hunting only during the day for a few hours. Instead of staying with the babes whom she had been obsessed with since their birth, she had been following Arra like a white shadow.
“What do you brood about this morn, little crow?” Tormund said entering the tent.
“Good day to you, too.”
“Aye, hey lass, see what…” He started too loudly.
“Please, be quieter!” Arra snapped, gesturing for him to leave the tent with her.
“Bad sleep, aye?” he teased outside. The dawn had come with a shivering freeze.
“Aye, all of us had.”
“What you brood about?” Tormund, who had turned into a closer friend than she had expected he would, insisted.
“Ghost. Her temper has never been like this. She gets more on edge every day. Especially closer she gets to the wall.” Arra said, remembering how two days ago Ghost almost bit a black brother’s hand off when he approached Arra suddenly.
“Clever wolf. They know, feel the dead. Do not worry, crow. They are smarter than us. You know Garry, he is a warg, too. Talk to him sometime. You’re also on edge. You also get more tempered around the wall. She takes it from you.”
Arra sighed. He’s perhaps right. I am not in my best temper around crows as well.
“Shall I leave her here then?”
“Will she stay?” He said with his usual smirk.
“Fair. Will you come to Castle Black with me?”
“Nay. Have to look over new ones.” Tormund grunted with distaste, meaning wildlings that returned with them after Hardhome. “They still struggle. As we do not. Few got in fights with other clans. Gon meet the clansmen and solve it. Ah, do not fret. I’ll handle it, ” He assured after Arra’s worried look.
“You’re doin’ well, Tormund. They respect you.”
He burst out laughing.
“No need to flatter me, crow. Do not fret, I won’t make you deal with them.”
“That’s not why I said.” Arra meant it sincerely. She knew it was hard on Tormund. Nobody really chose him as their leader. Or Mance’s replacement. It just happened.
“I know. I know. But I don’t like that I have to. Where is blodsy Mance anyway? We chose him to do this. Him, not me,” he asked no one. No one knew where Mance was. Disappearing while chasing Val’s, his only son’s, murderers.
“I might need to stay overnight at the Castle. Thorne is acting up again. I need to stay with them. My work would be barely over by night anyway.” Arra thought about all the issues that were lined up for her.
“Stag’s wife?”
“Aye, her, too,” She murmured through clenched teeth. Arra had cut a deal with Stannis for the sake of the Free Folk. He had allowed 30,000 of them to pass the Wall in exchange for their swords, and named her the King’s Mediator. For nine moons now, she has been going back and forth between the Castle Black and the Free Folk, trying to mend their millennia-old animosity. Arra was also helping the Night’s Watch to prepare for winter and survive their loans as much as she could.
Arra arrived at Castle black an hour after. People looked at her with suspicion and sometimes open hatred, as always. They had many reasons to do so: she was a woman. A bastard. A Stark to some. A false King’s follower to others.
Ignoring them as usual, she made her way to the evermore scolding and scoffing Thorne to start their routine of needless arguing. An hour later, while going through the second round of argument with Thorne, they heard one long horn signaling the arrival from the south. Arra rushed to the gates, Thorne at her heels. All the possibilities flashed through her mind. Another quarrel between the Free Folk and the Black brothers? Bolton’s attack on the camp?
The red silhouette passing through the gates on a horse quieted her worries, replacing them with new ones.
Ser Davos rushed to Melisandre ahead of everyone.
“What happened? Where is the king?”
She did not have to answer. It was obvious from her grief-stricken face and uncharacteristic silence.
“May R’hlor take accept of his soul.” Red Woman confirmed everyone’s thoughts.
“What bout the army?”- Arra asked momentarily, ignoring Davos’ shocked and paling face.
“Fell to snow and ice. The ones who survived went to the mountains. Some returned to the Free Folk camp.“ She left without saying another word.
"Princess? What of her?” Davos’ voice shook.
Melisandre turned around, and Arra saw an impression never thought she would see on a Red woman. Remorse and regret. Melisandre shook her head once and continued to the keep. Davos looked near-collapsing to the ground, looking like a man who had lost everything. He is a man who has lost everything. Arra reminded herself. His four sons. His home. Now his the king. Meaning his loyalty. Fight. Path. And a chance to go home. Is this what Robb’s men felt when he fell?
At the hour of owl, Arra was ready to go to bed after a tiring day. Knowing sleep would not come, she decided to go over some sums one more time. Yet what was the point? Stannis’ wife, Selyse, who had been too sickly to follow her husband and child and had to stay in Castle Black, was the only one left to carry on his claim. But to what end? And now that the King who had appointed her as the mediator is gone, what of her? Could she continue her work by pushing her Stark blood? Would black brothers accept her advances any longer for the sake of a fallen house?
A knock on the door startled her.
“Come in.”
A moment later, Olly entered the room.
“It’s late, Olly. Why are you not in bed?”
“I was going to, my Lady. But there is a wildling in the courtyard. He wants to speak to you.”
“Who is the wildling?”
“He is from Hardhome.”
“Ah, aye. Did he say why?”
“Aye, my Lady. He knows about your Uncle Benjen, saw him a few moons ago, he said.”
“Take me to him.”
Arra was at the door a moment later, following Olly. She did not even put on her cloak. Adrenaline and excitement were enough to boil her blood. Gods let it be good news. Just once. Perhaps I won’t be the last Stark. Hope threatened to bloom in her chest.
Passing through the stairs, they made it out of the keep fast. The courtyard was empty. And silent. She turned to look at Olly, only to see that he had walked away.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she grasped she was alone.
Searching for something, Arra looked around the courtyard and moved further. She saw a wooden sign in the corner. ‘TRAITOR’ written in red. In blood, Arra realised, noticing how the letters had drips of red liquid, staining the wood. Her hand immediately went to her sword.
She did not have her sword. Or her armor. She was going to go to sleep.
Arra felt their presence before hearing their footsteps. I have a dagger in my boots. I only need to reach it. Then Ghost would come. If they are with a sword, it is going to be hard. I only need to keep my distance - Before she could finish her thought, she turned by reflex - and flee. Ghost will handle the chasers. I only need to hold my ground for a wh -
Musky scent. Cold metal. Freezing metal. Dark orbs looking into her greys. Hot liquid. Her blood. A hollow in her chest. He stabbed her. Who is he? Only after a moment, she realized Bowen Marsh. She needed another moment to register what he said. "For the watch.“
For the watch. Another said Too close to her. She looked confused at the second voice. Another hit to her torso. Othell Yarwyck. It’s colder now. But leaking liquid is warmer. He stabbed me. In my guts. They stabbed me in my guts. Maybe in my lungs, too. I can’t breathe. I can’t stand. I will fall. What is happening?
Arra fell to her knees. Not able, not sure what to do. Where is Ghost? Ghost helps me to see, feel.
Suddenly, she saw Olly. She screamed.
"Go. Call someone. They stabbed me. Let them know.” But all the sound she could make was more hard breaths.
Where are you, Ghost? Men separated, and Olly started to approach. Oh, Olly. You should not be seeing this betrayal. You have seen too much of the dark and wrong. Not this one, too.
Olly got closer. Arra slightly tilted her head to look at his face. She got more confused by the look on his face. She could not replace it anywhere.
“For the watch,” Olly said. And…
And…Olly stabbed her.
She fell back on the snow. Hearing them running away like rats. Wolves hunt on rats. Ghost did sometimes.
Where are you, Ghost? I do not know what is happening. I only feel my blood spilling over the snow I lie over. Am I dying? I can not die. I have two babes. I have to find Bran. Ghost, where are you? I need to revive House Stark. Her breathing did not struggle now. It was getting too shallow to struggle.
My babes. My twins. My children. Ghost, am I dying, my friend? I hoped perhaps I could see Daeron one day. Am I dying? I can not feel my legs. My arms feel funny.
Would it be that bad? A voice told her. You would be with your mother, your fathers. With Robb and Little Rickon. Maybe Arya. With Val.
But I have two babes. Ghost, where are you? Find them. Protect them, Ghost.
Where are you, Ghost?
Ghost, I am dying. I no longer feel. It’s only cold.
Where are you, Ghost?
Find them. Protect them.
Ghost, where are you?
My friend, protect them.
Where are you?
“Ghost…”