Prologue
She can sense something is different today. Her horse follows that of her father, up to a mountainslope.
Her father stops, and so do his generals right behind him. Curiosity fills her, and she is quick to steer her horse to her father, advancing even farther than him.
She supposes that separates her from the rest, she has kept a semblance of emotions. They seem wan, far away, but she feels them nonetheless. She is not the emotionless envelope her father has become. The Night King. They had better called him the Ice King she later muses.
'Maege.' She hears the warning in his voice, though his voice sounds the same as always. Cold and unyielding. She supposes that a millenia living with him has made her hear the subtilities in his voice, though he barely uses it.
She stops and turns around, his blue eyes looking at her. She keeps her neutral face and nods, turning her horse around and stopping next to him. She feels something prickling her skin, as if someone is staring at her.
She looks down and sees a man with dark hair staring at her, muderous intent clear in his eyes. He will kill her and her father without question if he gets the chance. She does not know what makes her do it, but she just does.
A mocking smile appears on her face, her blue striking eyes staring back at him until he looks down. She steers her horse to her right, making it go up even higher. It will give her a better perspective, of what she is sure will be an interesting turn of events.
No one had expected the dragons. One moment the Wights are almost winning, ready to strike the killing blow, and than she hears a roar and fire errupts everywhere. She can only look up, white hair blowing in the wind and her face, moved by the beating of great wings above her.
One dragon with a silverhaired woman on it lands, breathing fire around him. She can see by the swish of his tail that he is anxious to leave. The other two dragons are breathing fire, burning group upon group of undead.
But Maege can only look on in interest, knowing with certainty that her father has a plan. The silverhaired woman turns around, almost doing a doubletake at the sight of the undead girl on the mountain.
Daenerys understands she is different, if the crown is any indication. The girl stares back, lips and eyelashes crusted with frozen snow and ice, as white as the snow on which her horse stands.
The girl keeps on staring at her, Daenerys feeling as if coldness itself seeps into her bones.
Maege looks to her left and sees that her father has a javelin in his hands. He looks at her for a moment, seeing a confused look on her face, and than he goes back to the task at hand.
With one throw, the javelin hits one of the dragons in the neck, blood and fire seeping from it. She can hear the dragons cry at their brother's death, and she hears a cry of 'Viserion!'.
She feels sadness in whatever remains of her heart, and sympathy for the porcelainfaced woman, whose look of sadness and disbelief is heartwrenching.
They are quick to leave afterwards; the darkhaired man disappearing in the water. Maege closes her eyes and turns around, not wanting to see another killed.
Maege does not know what to think of this. She stands next to the horse of her father, as the undead pull on chains and pull something out of the water. Confusion fills her again as the ice breaks and the death dragon is pulled out from the water.
Her father looks at her, making it clear he wants her to follow him. Her boots crunch in the snow, as she stops next to the Night King. He stands before the dragon and puts his hand on his snout.
Nothing happens for a moment and than blue eyes are staring at her. Maege does not know what to think, so she looks at her father instead. 'A gift.' Her father says, voice gruff. 'We will need him, and you will become his rider. But for now, he is your companion.'
Maege does not know what to say as her father's old self flickers to the surface. She wants to ask for the millionth time why they need to go and kill everyone. The question dies on her tongue and she sighs instead. 'Thank you, father.' she whispers, giving him a small smile.
He nods and she sees his eyes cloud over again, his stoic self again in place. It is moments like these that give her hope.
The dragon is staring at her, and she stares right back. A genuine smile breaks through. 'Welcome home, Viserion.'