I don't own Game of Thrones. And this should in no way or form be seen as a fic attempting to predict season 8. This just something that has been on my mind, nagging me to no end.
And fair warning: Some cursing, but I don't think it should warrant a M-rating.
"And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth." - Lady Galadriel, The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the RingLong Forgotten Past
Standing atop the Wall, the cold winds were biting into his skin, tousling his hair. And yet, the cold wasn't as biting as it could have been… in fact, he barely even registered it. Looking around, the youth took in everything around him.
The sky above him was alit with the moon and stars, bathing everything in a pale silvery light, allowing his wandering eyes to trace the Frostfang Mountains on his left, the mountain range running far to the south and north.
Behind and far below him, perhaps two-hundred feet down, the shouting and noise of construction drifted up to his ears, causing him to glance over his shoulder and downwards. Thousands of men were hard at work, hauling large blocks of ice and stone towards the construction site, the horses whinnying and snorting as they dragged the ice, rock and tree trunks towards what would become the largest construction ever build. But it wasn't just men working down there.
Huge giants were using their massive strength to move entire trees towards the structure, while others used their hands to hammer tree trunks into the ground like a man would a tent peg, and others still were lifting timber, rock and ice, putting it into place.
But the men and giants weren't the only ones hard at work. Small figures, that only could be Children of the Forest, were darting back and forth, some riding elks, bears, direwolves or other animals, while others were drawing strange symbols on the ground.
And it wasn't just directly below him that this strange horde of builders was at work. To the east and west, for several miles, an army of men, giants and Children of the Forest, were working to raise the greatest construction Westeros had ever seen.
"I cannot believe that it is over."
Eyes turning forwards, the young Three-Eyed Raven took in the four people standing slightly in front of him, all gazing north.
The one who spoke was a young man, maybe six summers older than Bran, with a tall but elegant build beneath the large cloak hanging of his shoulder, his long dark hair curling, and when Bran took a few steps around them so that he could look at them and the north, he saw reserved grey eyes staring out at the wilderness with relief and disbelief, frost giving the man's gruff black beard a greyish hue.
"Over? We may have won the day, young chief Brandon Stark, but the war is far from over."
Bran's eyes drifted slightly downwards, focusing his attention on the Child of the Forest standing on Brandon's left, not all that surprised that the man was his ancestor who founded his House, Bran the Builder. The Child was a male wearing white face-paint resembling a snarling wolf with piercing yellow-green eyes, long green hair, and what looked like a bear pelt wrapped around his green-grey body. The Child was looking towards the northern horizon, towards the last still visible peak of the Frostfang Mountains, a dragonglass tipped spear at his side. "The Night King may have suffered a defeat, but he is far from vanquished. Be it tomorrow, a moon cycle, a year, or hundreds or thousands of years from now, when your bones have long since turned to dust… if we cannot find him and destroy him, his return is inevitable."
"Impossible. Brandon pierced the Night King with Lightbringer."
Bran's gaze shifted again, this time to his furthest left. The one who spoke this time was a woman with silvery white hair put in a braid, dark blue-green eyes and tanned skin. She wore a large woollen cloak lined with fur, a sword hanging over her shoulder, its crimson scabbard against the white cloak making it look like her back had been carved open.
A dull thud sounded to Bran's right, drawing his gaze towards the sound. There, lying in front of them was a sword, radiating a diminishing heat… or rather, the remains of a sword: the hilt and three inches of blade. And what remained of the blade was heavily damaged and looked like it would break any second. Eyes shifting to his furthest right, the young Stark saw another male Child of the Forest. This one wore red face-paint, forming a flame in his face, complimenting his red hair, and appeared to be wearing small red leather armour and fox skin. Armed with a double-tipped dragonglass spear and two small dragonglass short-swords, there was no doubt that this Child was a fighter. And like some fighters who had seen too much bloodshed, his voice was harsher and more cutting than his weapons.
"There! There you have the peak of Men's magic! The sword called Lightbringer, prophesised by humans to bring an end to the war. It survived twelve strikes from the Night King's ice blade before shattering upon the thirteenth, when the chieftain landed a lucky hit on the enemy. Chieftain Brandon Stark is lucky to be alive. If it wasn't for Azor-a Áh Hái and myself…"
The other Child sighed tiredly "R´hllor, please. Now is not the time."
R'hllor turned his head towards the other Child. "Not the time? No, Azor-a Áh Hái, this is not the time. The time would have been before Nissa Nissa foolishly sacrificed-"
"Do not insult my sister's sacrifice, gnome!" Bran's eyes turned to the woman who was glaring murder at the two Children, hands tightening at her sides, the right making small shakes upwards, like she could barely control her urge to reach for her sword. Eyes flashing and lips pulling up in a snarl, the woman stepped in front the Children, looking like she was ready to tear them apart. "You told us that there is power in sacrifice! Especially when an innocent willingly sacrifices themselves! And you said that it would take powerful magic to defeat the Night King!"
"Valyri, please. It's not their fault" The Builder's pained voice was easily heard between them as he hesitantly stepped forward, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, placing a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder. "The fault is mine… I was desperate, I will admit it. When Nissa Nissa came to me, saying that she had spoken with the two most powerful greenseers, R'hllor and… forgive me, I still cannot pronounce your name… Azor Ahai?"
R'hllor snorted, his face pulling into a mix of amusement and disgust, while Azor-a Áh Hái just smiled good-naturedly as he replied. "Close enough."
Brandon nodded before sighing. "As I said, Nissa Nissa came to me, saying that she had spoken with R'hllor and… Azor Ahai… and that they had told her how to defeat the Night King: Through powerful magic, most likely obtained through the sacrifice of a willing person." He sighed once more. "Nissa Nissa had seen how warlocks and sorceresses could coat their weapons in fire by sacrificing some of their blood. Nissa Nissa reasoned that if a sorceress were to allow her heart to be pierced by a sword in a selfless sacrifice, the sword would become unbreakable and forever coated in flames... if not turn the blade itself to fire. It would be a mighty weapon against the Dead and their Masters. But when I said I could not do it..."
The legendary Stark took a deep and shaky breath. "I tried putting the sword away and to calm her down. At first, she grew agitated and angry, then desperate, almost pleading. But I managed to calm her down and talk her out of it… or at least I thought I had." A single tear ran from his eyes and down into his beard. "As I said, I was desperate. We had been fighting the White Walkers for a generation, if not more. When Nissa Nissa asked, right after telling me that she had spoken with the Greenseers, what I would be willing to do if it meant a chance of finally defeating the Night King, I said I would be willing to do anything… then she told me her theory of how to defeat the Night King and that she would sacrifice herself… and I could not do it."
Tears rolled freely down the Builder's cheeks. "We argued for a long while, but just as I thought I had calmed her down and talked her out of it, she said: 'You said you would do anything. That includes sacrificing me. Is the defeat of the Great Other not worth that sacrifice?' When I told her no, she grew despondent and then… she kissed me and… and then… she said she was sorry and wished that we would have had more time together and… and then… she grabbed my arm and stabbed herself through the heart with my sword."
Taking a few shaky breaths, the founder of House Stark wiped his eyes. "Why… why did she have to die for naught? Why did it not work? The sword cut down countless wights and I killed five White Walkers in a row… but still… it was not enough. It did not even slow him down, did not even faze him."
Both Children gave each other slightly uneasy looks, and seemingly coming to an agreement, R'hllor spoke first.
"Nissa Nissa was right about several things: There is power in sacrifices, especially if the one to be sacrificed does so willingly and without fear. And she was right when she assumed it would take powerful magic to kill the Night King or, as some have taken to calling him, the Great Other." He sighed. "But she forgot one vital thing, and we tried to tell her, but then we were attacked, and by the time the battle was over, she was long gone."
Valyri turned her attention from Brandon, who were now looking at the Children once again, eyes slightly puffy. It was, however, Valyri who spoke first. "What did she forget?"
Once again, the two Children looked at each other, before R'hllor answered. "She forgot that the Night King was created by the some of the most powerful magic our people possess. You call us the Children of the Forest, but as I am sure you have realized by now, we have been around for far longer than Man. Our magic is older and far more powerful than what the warlocks and sorceresses beyond the sea possess, even with over half of our greenseers gone." He closed his eyes. "Still, I will give recognition where recognition is due. Foolish as it was, your sister's sacrifice gave birth to something powerful. It is possible, though I doubt it, that if she had known the secrets of the Night King, she may have been able to create something powerful enough to, at the very least, wound him."
Bran was listening with rapt attention, and so were his ancestor and the woman. But unlike him, they didn't seem to register the air getting colder from the north. Still, he forced himself to ignore the cold and focused on the conversation.
"All the secrets?" Brandon frowned. "What do mean by all the secrets? We all know that he was created by your people to fight against us a long time ago, that he was once a man himself before your people shoved a dagger into his heart, somehow transforming him into the Night King, the first of the White Walkers."
Azor-a Áh Hái nodded his head slowly, but his voice was clear. "Yes, that is why and how we created him. What you fail to understand, however, is the importance of those two things. For they mean everything in how to possibly defeating him."
The Child sighed, closing his golden eyes as he continued his account. "Man was cutting down our sacred trees, killing us wherever they went. Twice we had tried stopping them by raising the hammers of the waters… twice we failed. We came to the realization that to battle Man, we needed to turn Man against Man. Thus we created the Night King, the Man killer. That dagger of zīrtys perzys… it is the key to his creation… and destruction."
Valyri looked at the two Children for a long moment before, from her belt, took out a dragonglass knife. "Zīrtys perzys… where I am from, we call it frozen flame."
R'hllor nodded. "A good translation. Mount Obsidian, on an island in the far south, is an entire mountain of it, but it was not always so. Mount Obsidian, which we called Mountain of Fire, used to be a large nesting ground for the great Fire Serpents, the heat of the rivers of liquid fire running down the mountain attracting the Fire Serpents. But when we raised the hammers of waters, the rising waters across the seas cooled the mountain, leaving only zīrtys perzys in place of the liquid fire."
Valyri frowned. "What does that have to with anything?"
"Everything," was R'hllor's immediate response. "Zīrtys perzys is fire made solid. One could say it is an eternal flame."
Azor-a Áh Hái nodded, taking up the narration. "Yes. And fire is energy." Opening his eyes once more, the greenseer continued. "As I said, Man was cutting down us and our sacred trees, burning the forests and everything living in them. So in order to battle Man, we created the Night King… by turning Man's weapons and strengths against them."
Brandon frowned. "I still don't understand."
Azor-a Áh Hái sighed. "Think, chief Brandon Stark. What is Man's strength? Your weapons were, and still are, superior to ours. We called upon our magic to cause cold so intense that the metal weapons made by humans would shatter. Man used fire to burn the forests: We called upon our magic to make our warrior immune to fire. The zīrtys perzys strengthened this immunity; not even the fire from the Great Fire Serpents can harm him. And we called upon our magic to make sleep, food and drink unnecessary for our warrior. Finally, you far outnumbered us, so we gave our warrior the ability to raise your fallen and use them against you. All of that magic, put into a single zīrtys perzys dagger."
All three humans, two living in that era and third a mere observer from a distant future, had all gone deadly pale. Bran was beginning to understand where this was going, and he didn't like it one bit. And neither did Valyri, her face twisting into rage once more.
"And you knew this? You knew our weapons would be ineffective against the Night King? And you never told us?!"
Azor-a Áh Hái sighed, closing his eyes again. "We suspected it, but until Nissa Nissa's sacrifice, we were not sure."
Valyri was far from impressed, and for a moment it looked like she would strangle the two Children or throw them from over the edge of the Wall. "So you waited to share your suspicions until you were certain? Why? Have you any idea of how many lives you could have saved if you had told us this sooner? Do you?!"
Neither of the Children seemed fazed by her outburst. Instead, R'hllor closed his eyes and answered rather calmly. "We would have doomed everyone if he we had told you sooner. For, had we told you, we would have taken away something even more important than knowledge of the enemy."
Valyri frowned. "What?"
R'hllor opened his eyes again, meeting the woman's furious gaze. "Hope. For when the night is dark and full of terrors, you need hope to believe you can win and see the sun rising at dawn. That was what we were trying to tell Nissa Nissa: The mighty Lightbringer was not a magical blade to be held by one person; Lightbringer is the blade living inside every living person, giving them the strength and courage to keep fighting, no matter how hopeless the war may seem."
Silence reigned for a long moment, Valyri and R'hllor were staring each other down. Then, Valyri spoke, her voice low and dangerous. "You arrogant little treeshaggers. You created that creature in order to kill your enemies, us, but when we became your allies, you still withheld information that could lead us to victory. Tell me, how many have died for your arrogance? How many thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of men, women and children could you have saved? Or is that number higher than there are stars in the sky?"
"And how many died when you invaded?" R'hllor countered sharply, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You- "
"R'hllor, enough." Azor-a Áh Hái interrupted calmly. Opening his eyes, his gaze shifted from the two past humans to the north. "We were arrogant… or perhaps, we were just blinded by our grief and anger… much like you are now, Valyri of the East."
Eyes unflinching, voice never rising or dropping, the Child easily held the attention of all the humans. "We had long seen our doom at the hands of Men. And like any other creature living in this world, we fought with everything we had to postpone the inevitable. So great was our blindness, that we failed to see that we were creating a far worse evil than the one who were already destroying us. However, Valyri of the East," and for the first time, something dangerous seemed to flicker in his eyes "Do not think yourself better than us. You too have kept a lot of things secrets. Things that may, or may not, have made a difference. Like that sword you are carrying now… it would not have been able to kill the Night King or any of the White Walkers, but I saw it being able to block an ice blade. How many could not have been saved if you had shared the secrets of making more swords like that?"
The tension in the air was so thick that Bran doubted a Valyrian sword could have cut it. The two Children bore matching expressions of neutrality, the Builder anxiety, but Valyri's face was a mask of disbelief and fury. And it showed in her voice.
"How do you know that? You and your kind were not near me that day."
Neither Child smirked nor smiled, but Azor-a Áh Hái answered her question in a matter of fact tone. "There is little we do not see. Past… present… even the many paths of the future is visible to our eyes." For the briefest of moments, Bran was sure Azor-a Áh Hái's eyes landed on him, but when the greenseer of the past continued, his gaze was focused on Valyri. "And I implore of you now: Give up on your family's quest before more people die in vain."
Valyri's eyes narrowed dangerously, her response something between a dangerous hiss and snarl. "What? What did you just say to me?"
Brandon frowned, looking between the Children and Valyri. "What? What quest?"
"It matters not!" Valyri snapped, never taking her eyes from the Children. "How dare you? How dare you repeat that my sister died in vain?"
R'hllor raised an eyebrow. "We are not talking about Nissa Nissa. We are talking about the people who will needlessly die when you and your line foolishly continues your attempts to control the embodiments of flame."
Brandon's eyes widened. "The embodiments of flame… wait, no, don't tell me… the Fire Serpents!" Head whirling, he stared at the woman with incredulity. "Valyri, the Fire Serpents cannot be controlled by humans, even if they are wargs! Even the Children's wargs and greenseers do not take command of the Fire Serpents without good reason and serious consideration!"
"Without serious consideration?" Valyri's voice had completely changed, Bran noticed, an eagerness replacing her fury from before. "So it can be done? The Fire Serpents can be controlled?"
The two Children, Bran thought, either didn't pick up on her shift in voice, or simply didn't care, for R'hllor answered her with a somewhat indifferent matter. "Both Azor-a Áh Hái and I have taken control of the Fire Serpents before, over thousands of moons ago. We did it to move them east to the mountains of fire, the volcanos, so that they would not burn down the forests or encroach on the territory of the Ancient Ones."
All of the humans, past and present, frowned, the Bran the Builder voicing their question. "The Ancient Ones?"
Azor-a Áh Hái nodded. "They are the oldest and most powerful of the Ice Dragons. According to the legends of our people, their breath created the glaciers in far the north."
Valyri's eyes snapped towards Azor-a Áh Hái. "Ice Dragons?" The two Children nodded once, apparently not seeing the hungry look in the woman's eyes. "Are they like the Fire Serpents?"
Azor-a Áh Hái shook his head. "No. The Ice Dragons are far larger, older and smarter than the Fire Serpents…and they can fly."
"How do you control such beasts?"
Azor-a Áh Hái's face darkened. "We do not. We use our abilities to enter their minds in order to speak with them, nothing else. And even if a warg could take control of them, he or she would need extraordinary power to accomplish such a task… power far beyond my own."
R'hllor chuckled. "And that will never happen, my friend. The human tongue is still strange to me, your name, Azor-a Áh Hái, means, roughly translated to the tongues of Men, Animal Spirit Walker… or warrior.. It is a silly name, but there is no question that you are the most powerful warg. No warg can surpass you."
This time, it was Azor-a Áh Hái's turn to chuckle. "A silly title indeed… not that yours is much better, R'hllor… or should I say, Flame Chieftain?" R'hllor grimaced, causing the other Child to chuckle again, before a pensive frown crossed his face. "But you are wrong. I may be the most powerful skinchanger tonight, but I will be surpassed. I have seen it. Even now, I can sense his presence… a human boy."
For several seconds, the only sound heard were the noise of construction and the cold wind howling. Then, R'hllor started laughing. "A human boy… surpass you as a skinchanger? Azor-a Áh Hái, have you been eating too many mushrooms again? Or is your grasp of your power simply slipping?"
Azor-a Áh Hái simply shrugged. "Believe what you will, R'hllor. Many a thing is hidden in the fogs of the future, but I see me being surpassed quite clearly." His gaze turned to Valyri. "Just as I see quite clearly that whether you and your line succeed or fail in your quest, the outcome for all will be the same: Destruction and death, and their offspring, misery, sorrow and hatred."
Silence reigned for more than a minute, but then Valyri spoke, her voice and eyes colder and harsher than the ice they were standing on and the air they were breathing. "You are wrong, treeshagger. My quest will succeed, be it in mine, my children or their children's time. And when it does, it will bring order to a chaotic world and the only ones who will be destroyed and wail in misery and hatred will be those who oppose us… or wronged us in the past. So… you can help me now, or be destroyed when I or those of my line returns."
She was met by the gazes of two very unimpressed, bordering on bored, looks from the Children, making it clear that they had absolutely no interest in helping her. Eyes narrowing at the two Children, Valyri growled under her breath, before turning her eyes to Brandon, her gaze and voice softening. "And what about you Brandon? Will you help me? Think of what we can do with the Fire Serpents at our beck and call. Should the Night King return, we can use them to keep him and his armies at bay. You will never have to fear any man or monster again." Her gaze softened even more. "Please… for Nissa Nissa… come with me to the East. Leave this accursed place and cold for a time and return with fire made flesh and create order among all the clans. Is that not what you wanted? To see an end to the fighting of the clans? With the Fire Serpents under your command, you and your family to come will ensure that the fighting between the clans will never start again. You will rule and pass out judgement upon those who have wronged you and your kin without fear of retribution. Is that not what you wanted?"
Brandon closed his eyes, and despite the cold creeping up on them, no one spoke. Then, Bran the Builder exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the dark night. "When I was five, I wanted to kill those who took my father away. When I was eight, I wanted to kill those who killed my mother. And when I was twelve, I wanted to destroy the Night King and all of his minions when they killed my older and one of my younger brothers, leaving me, my younger sister and youngest brother Benjedd on our own."
He sighed. "I took revenge for my father and mother… just like they did for their fathers and mothers, and as have been done for generations before them. In return, the other clans retaliated, and I lost my only sister. It was only the threat of the Night King and White Walkers that managed to stop the fighting."
The founder of House Stark shook his head as he opened his eyes, looking into the sky. "We waged war and fought each other for so long… I wonder if the clans even remember why or how the fighting started… Stark, Dustin, Bolton, Children of the Forest… in the end, all flesh and blood… blood spilled needlessly… I have had my fill of bloodshed… of death." Eyes turning from the sky, he met the gaze of Valyri. "I cannot go with you, Valyri. My place is here, helping to rebuild this torn country. And," swallowing, he gave the two Children a wary look before focusing on her again, "and if two greenseers say that the Night King is likely to return and that your quest to tame the Fire Serpents will fail… then I will heed their warning. No amount of lives is worth the Fire Serpents destructive power."
For a moment, Valyri looked like Brandon had slapped her. Then, her expression, eyes and voice turned harsher and colder than the unforgiving lands north of the Wall, as her eyes narrowed at the founder of House Stark, letting out a mix of a hiss and a snarl. "I cannot believe it. Brandon Stark, the man my sister loved, the man who led the charge against the Night King alongside the so-called mighty Azor-a Áh Hái and R'hllor… is a fucking coward. You have the chance to seize everything you desire, but you do not have the guts to try grasping it."
Brandon met her steely gaze evenly. "No… I have the guts not to… especially if realizing my dream means the deaths of countless others."
Valyri scoffed. "To realize one's own dream, the dreams of others have to be sacrificed. Just as that the only thing paying for life is death." She shook her head. "You were so fierce, Brandon Stark, like a true direwolf. But now… now you are just like a wounded dog: Pathetic." Turning on her heels, she started marching towards where, if the indent in the Wall was anything to go by, a staircase had been carved. However, just before descending, she turned her head, giving them all hateful looks. "You can stay here with those treeshaggers all you want, Brandon Stark. But with or without yours and theirs help, I and those of my line, will succeed in our quest. We will prove you wrong… and when we do, we will return and we will have justice for your insolence… especially yours, you little bastard treefuckers. With fire and blood, I will kill all of you… and all those who stand in my way."
With that, she walked down the stairs, out of sight, the gazes of the four males following her. The Three-Eyed Raven followed the woman with a slightly curious look, the two past greenseers with unimpressed expressions, while Bran the Builder wore a deep frown and slightly worried look.
"Do you think she meant that?"
R'hllor sighed. "It does not matter. This meeting went as we foresaw."
Brandon frowned, turning his gaze towards the two Children. "What?"
Azor-a Áh Hái let out weary sigh. "Seeing the future is like navigating and changing the flow of a strong river in a heavy mist: You may be able to see the bends and dangers here and now, but you cannot see all the new dangers, nor can you see what the changes have brought until you have travelled down the river." He sighed. "And yet, at other times, it is easy to see it all, but difficult, if not impossible, to steer clear of the dangers."
The founder of House Stark's frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"
R'hllor sighed. "The only reason we invited Valyri of the East to join us tonight was because we hoped to dissuade her from pursuing her quest of taming the Fire Serpents. Not because it is doomed to fail and it will cost countless lives… but because we fear what will happen if she does succeed."
Bran watched how the eyes and mouth of his ancestral namesake opened so wide that he looked more like a fish out of water than a human. "Wh-wha-what? Are you… are you saying that she will succeed?!"
Azor-a Áh Hái shook his head. "No. She will not succeed… but her line might… and if they do, it will cost even more lives than if they fail. If they succeed, they will bring nothing but death and destruction to all."
The frown returned to Brandon's face. "What do you mean?"
Azor-a Áh Hái shook his head once more and let out a sigh. "R'hllor has seen it in the fires, and I have seen it in my dreams: Valyri's descendants may succeed in getting some control of the Fire Serpents… but if they do, it will lead to their ruin." The Child frowned. "The Fire Serpents they may gain some control over will not be able to match the amount of fire as the Fire Serpents, and their fire will be colder, but they can cover far greater distances as they can fly. Valyri's line will seek to empower their fire, both amount and ferocity, by experimenting with the flowing fire within the earth through sorcery… and it will cause their destruction." He closed his eyes. "Fire, ash and smoke will swallow the sky… the great waters will rise again and hills and mountains will be torn asunder. A culture lost… and that is not the worst."
Brandon looked like someone had pulled his intestines out his mouth and was now trying to force them back the same way. "Wha-wh-wha- what? No-not the wor-wo-worst? An entire culture lost, and it is not the worst? What could possibly be worse?"
Azor-a Áh Hái opened his eyes, staring first at Brandon, then towards the unforgiving lands to the north. "The Night King." Upon glancing at Brandon, and seeing his uncomprehensive look, the greenseer frowned before sighing, gaze turning northwards once more. "If we fail in tracking down and destroying the Night King, he will go into a deep trance, almost like a bear hibernating, deep within the earth and icy mountains. And unless we manage to stop them, the doom of Valyri's descendants is what will wake him anew, and he will return stronger than ever."
The Builder looked like he had just gotten his innards stuffed down his mouth, and now someone else was trying to pull them out again. "Stronger than ever? How? When?"
Azor-a Áh Hái shook his head. "I do not know. I have only seen vague images… visions that do not make any sense."
Still visibly shaken, Bran the Builder took a few deep breaths, but Bran instantly noticed the difference when his ancestor spoke again. The older Stark's face and eyes had turned steely, making it clear that he would fight with anything he had. "Tell me, Azor Ahai. What have you seen? Even vague images can make the difference if the Night King returns."
The greenseer frowned, ignoring the butchering of his name, before giving a small nod. "You are right. Man needs everything that might give them a fighting chance." His gaze narrowed towards the north, his frown deepening. "Assuming the Night King reawakens, he will summon his elite fighters before rebuilding his army. It will be a long time, by human standards, before he makes his presence known."
Brandon frowned. "So he will stay hidden before launching his assault? How long? How long a warning will we get before he shows his hand?"
Azor-a Áh Hái frowned. "I do not know… I cannot see it clearly." He closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and shaking his head. "I see a manmade seat, made of Man's blade, resting atop a foundation of corpses and skulls. It looks solid and strong, but the foundation will soon start falling apart, from the inside out… and soon, the only thing keeping the seat standing is the web of a spider as lions, wolves, stags, snakes, falcons and roses move around it, tearing and ensnaring each other. When this happens, the first signs of the enemy's return will be known." The greenseer's frown deepened. "The Night King will make his war when a mockingbird starts undoing the web of the spider and building its nests, causing it and the spider to engage in a fierce battle of control of the web. The other animals will fall through holes or be suffocated in the web before the seat finally topples and shatters in a chasm beneath it… and all the while, the enemy only gains strength."
Brandon the Builder's frown deepened. "A spider and mockingbird… do you think they are wargs?"
Azor-a Áh Hái sighed. "I do not know. What I do know, is that should the Night King return, your family will be required to fight him once more."
Brandon took a shaky breath. "We are not ready for another war with the Night King. What about this… wall? Will… will our efforts to build this war be in vain?"
Azor-a Áh Hái looked at R'hllor, before looking back at the founder of House Stark. "This wall will be built by more than just wood, stone and ice, Brandon. We are putting some of our strongest magic into its foundation… and it involves you."
The Builder's brow furrowed with confusion. "Me? How?"
This time, it was R'hllor who answered. "We are building this wall on the very front where the Night King and his hordes were defeated in the last great battle. You bled here; lasting longer on your own against the Night King than any man ever did, almost bleeding out. Through you blood, willingly and fearlessly sacrificed to keep your family, friends and allies safe, we will strengthen this line of defence with our magic. As long as you, one from your family, or one of your direct descendants man this wall, it will never fall to the Night King."
Azor-a Áh Hái nodded. "There must always be a Stark at this wall. And there must always be a Stark at your settlement."
Brandon tilted his head. "At Winterfell? Why?"
R'hllor answered. "For we will use the same spells as the one we are casting here, to create a safe haven, should this wall fall. But be warned: If this wall or Winterfell is ever left unmanned by someone from your line, the magical protection will weaken… if not fail completely. "
The Builder gave a curious frown. "But why? Winterfell isn't the largest settlement or fort."
R'hllor nodded. "True. But you have built your settlement around a very important place: The R'hllian weirwood and pond."
The founder of House Stark blinked owlishly, gaping at the red-painted Child. Then, he snorted and a smirk started tugging on his lips. "So you will put some of your most powerful spells on my fort because my family has built it around one of your sacred trees and a pond named after you? Don't you think that is a little vain?"
R'hllor sighed, like one does when you don't believe someone's stupidity. "Ignorant fool. The weirwood and pond is not named after me, but R'hllian, or as you would call her, Chieftain of the Water, a powerful greenseer and healer. She died over five-hundred years ago, but the water retains its healing power to this day… if you can align yourself with its energies, you can use it to heal just about any injury save from a severed limb."
Brandon's eyes widened. "Wha-what? Are you saying that the water in that pond can be used to heal our wounded?"
Azor-a Áh Hái nodded. "Yes. But it is not easy. Among all the greenseers of her time, only R'hllian learned how. Even I know only a few of the secrets of that water. Firstly, it formed partly from the dying body of an Ice Dragon and the hot water found underground. I don't know all the details, but R'hllian eased the dragon's passing and in gratitude, the dragon allowed R'hllian to draw its energy into the tree. That tree is very old, filled with energy from every greenseer that has ever come across it, and its roots run very deep… and right into the pond. This formed a never ending energy circle: the tree providing the water with its energies and the pond providing the tree. I don't believe even R'hllian at the time realized what had happened."
Brandon frowned slightly. "I guess that it is those energies that give the water its healing properties?" Both Children nodded. "So… how do you align yourself with them?"
Azor-a Áh Hái sighed. "That is the problem. We do not know… that knowledge died with R'hllian. We only know that for you to have a chance to align yourself with them, you need to have a massive amount of energy yourself… and you need to be born with it, like R'hllian was. To anyone else… it is just normal water, being heated by the warm underground water."
Bran's ancient ancestor sighed. "Understood." Biting his lip, his eyes drifted north, his breath visible in the cold night air. "What is the plan now? How do we prepare for another war against the Night King?"
R'hllor sighed. "I will go to the East. Valyri and her family are not the only ones trying to gain control of the Fire Serpents... but there are also those who, with good reason, fears what a failed attempt to tame the Fire Serpents will bring. I will go warn them and, hopefully, they will be able stop the madness of Valyri and her ilk. Hopefully this will be enough to stop the catastrophe in the East and thus stop the Night King, should we fail in hunting him down, from reawakening and bringing another age of cold, darkness and death."
Azor-a Áh Hái nodded, gazing north. "I will lead the hunt on the Night King myself. On your horses, you may be faster than us, but in the dense forests and mountains, our race moves faster. I will bring the fastest and strongest giants, the smartest and best fighters among us, and any twenty good human man and woman willing… if they can keep up." He sighed once more, this time more wearily. "I will also bring Leaf, the young girl who turned the Night King. She may be able to track him based on the bond between them."
The Child's gaze moved from the hostile northern land towards the young founder of House Stark. "As for you, young Chieftain Brandon Stark, I cannot tell you what to do. But my advice to you is: Build this wall. And even when it reaches across the land, from west and all the way to the eastern shore, keep building. Make the wall reach the skies if need be. And remember… remember our warning: There must always be a Stark manning this wall and in Winterfell. And remember the conflict between Men and us, and what horror was unleashed because of it. Remember the age of darkness you were born into and warn those who come after you that the enemy is still out there. Remember, Chieftan Brandon Stark."
The Builder nodded his head. "I will. I will remember and remind everyone of this age of darkness. The North will remember. I swear it on my blood, I swear it on the blood of those who came before me, and I swear it on the blood of those who will come after me. The North will remember and be ready to face the enemy once more. I swear it on the power of the gods."
Both Children regarded the founder of House Stark. Then, Azor-a Áh Hái smiled. "You have courage, young chieftain. And I believe you will do all you said. That is why I think we can tell you one more secret. Do you agree, R'hllor?"
The red-painted Child nodded. "I agree,"
Once more, the Builder's face scrunched up in confusion and curiousity. "One last secret? What is that?"
Azor-a Áh Hái smiled. "Remember what we told you about how the Night King was created with a dagger made of zīrtys perzys, and how it is the key to his creation and destruction?" Brandon nodded once, and his descendant leaned closer in as well, listening intently. "Indeed. He was created through a zīrtys perzys dagger imbued with some of our most powerful magic... and he can be destroyed with an equally powerful spell imbued zīrtys perzys blade. We will bring such weapons with us, but we are leaving one here, at this first fort you are building. Should we fail, this one zīrtys perzys blade must survive. Build this fort, this castle, to be the largest of them all."
Brandon nodded, but then frowned. "It makes good sense to keep a weapon in reserve… but why would I need to build the fort below to be the largest of them all?"
Azor-a Áh Hái smiled, almost mischievously. "For the fort will need to be large to host the blade's guardian."
The Builder's frown deepened. "The blade's guardian? Large…" His eyes widened. "A giant! You intend to leave a giant or more to keep the blade save, aren't you?"
Azor-a Áh Hái shook his head. "No. A giant will not be enough to keep the Night King or his White Walkers at bay, should the wall and castle fall. They also don't do well when confined to one place. They are nomads, they survive by travelling. Confining them to the fort would kill them… and, most likely, the men manning the fortification. And they don't live nearly long enough. No, the guardian is something else."
R'hllor sighed. "He is not going to guess it, Azor-a Áh Hái. And… we are short on time."
Azor-a Áh Hái looked at his fellow greenseer, then sighed and nodded. "You are right, R'hllor. Time is running out." Gaze returning to Bran's ancestor, he spoke in a slow and somewhat low voice. "We don't have time to explain it all. What you need to know, Brandon Stark, is that we will leave a guardian to protect the blade. This guardian will go into hibernation until someone comes to claim the blade. But be warned: The guardian will accept no one but a greenseer… and that greenseer will have to prove worthy of the blade, or be destroyed."
His eyes drifting north, Azor-a Áh Hái spoke in a low voice. "Remember everything we told you, Chieftain Brandon Stark. And remember, that one day, when winter is coming, the dead may come with it."
Brandon nodded. "I will. May the gods protect us all and may…" He trailed off, frowning. "Is it me, or did it just get a lot colder?"
His ancestor was right, Bran noticed. He had ignored it up to now, but as the conversation between these past heroes had dragged on, it had become significantly colder. His mind swiftly connecting the clues, he stared around frantically, hoping against all odds to be wrong. His hopes, however, were dashed when both Children spoke.
"The enemy… he is here."
Barely had the two greenseers spoken the words before Bran's eyes spotted him. There, in the darkness behind his ancestor, a pair of icy blue eyes was staring right at him. The darkness thickened, forming the Night King and his armour as he walked forward, his great curvy blade glinting in the dark. Bran took several steps backwards, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. The staircase was too far away and there was no form of cover. However, just as the Night King walked past his ancestor, who didn't see nor reacted to the presence of the White Walker high lord, raising his blade for the kill, something strange happened. Azor-a Áh Hái and R'hllor both walked forward and waved their arms away from their hearts in the almost universal gesture of warding off evil. And suddenly, the Night King halted in his advance, the air around him bending as he tried walking forward.
Bran blinked in surprise and he wasn't the only one. The Night King didn't show his surprise, but he took a single step backwards, lowering his blade as clear cold blue eyes glanced at the two Children, before settling on Bran once more in a measuring stare. Raising his free hand, the Night King reached forward with outstretched fingers, but just like before, he was stopped by an invisible barrier. However, before he could breathe a sigh of relief, a low voice spoke up.
"You cannot rest and linger any more than we can, Brandon Stark." Eyes drifting from the Night King, the young Three-Eyed Raven almost gasped when his gaze landed on the two Children. Both greenseers were looking at him but, at the same time, their gaze was locked on his ancestor, seemingly staring right through the youngest Stark. And yet, when Azor-a Áh Hái spoke again, there was no doubt in Bran's mind that his words were meant for him "I wish we could stay longer, but time and speed is of the essence. I wish you good fortune in the wars to come. And may the gods protect you and yours. Farewell, Brandon Stark."
Then, darkness swept over the Wall.
0000
Many miles and years away, Bran Stark's eyes returned to their normal colour as his mind returned fully to his body. Taking a shuddering breath, Bran dully registered the sweat running down his back as his mind ran through all what he had seen, squashing down any hint of emotion that threatened to disturb his mind, be they fear over having come so close to the Night King once more, shock at all the secrets he had discovered, disbelief of what had happened all those years ago and how close recent events were connected… and lastly, he squashed down the hope that the pond in Winterfell's godswood would be able to heal his broken body.
All of those were squashed down, so that his mind could process what he had learned and come up with a course of action now that he knew his journey wasn't over. And if any had seen a hint of the turmoil going on within him in his eyes, as he squashed the emotions, they would now only see cold detachment as he spoke to one in particular.
"I have work to do."
End…. Maybe?
This story will probably not go any further than this… and if it does, don't expect regular updates… at all. Will this be connected to Winter War? Unlikely. That, like this, was just a scene I had in my head that wouldn't leave me alone.
Sorry for the lack of abbreviations. Been some time since I last watched the seasons, but if I recall correctly, most of the time they speak without abbreviations. I might go back and change this if I'm wrong.
As said before, this should not be seen as a prediction one-shot/story. I have rarely read them, because they at this point all feel the same to me. If I wanted to read predictions for season 8, I would use google.
This story sprang to mind because of several things:
I am a huge Bran Stark fan (people who have received reviews from me in their GoT fics know this). One of my favourite moments from season 7 was him quoting Littlefinger right back in his face. I loved, and still do, Littlefinger as a character but damn if it wasn't satisfying watching the usually unflappable master plotter with a big WTF look on his face.
Melisandre's admission in season six about being wrong. Well lady, if you were wrong about Stannis being Azor Ahai once, I really don't give much for you and the other fanatics in your cult proclaiming anyone being the Lord of Light's chosen or whatever.
But it did get me thinking: Thousands of years are a long time. How many facts of the history were lost / changed due to the passing of time? And that made me think: Maybe Melisandre's prophecy/prediction crap was wrong because the prophecy was wrong from the very beginning (if it even existed).
Try playing a little game with your friends (preferably if you are ten-fifteen people sitting around a table and maybe have had a little to drink). The game is simple: Whoever starts (A) whispers a small story/rumour (made up and with no intention to harm anyone) to his/her neighbour (B), making sure nobody else hears the story. The neighbour now passes the story on to the next in line (C), however: B must now decide whether to change a little thing in the story or add something to it. And on and on it goes until the story reaches A again. I wonder how much a story has changed by passing by 10-15 people in maybe an hour. Quite a lot I think, and I doubt even A will remember his/her part of the story. Makes you wonder how much that story could change if it was passed around people for more than 8,000 years.
I'm a huge fan of irony. How ironic wouldn't it be if R'hllor and Azor Ahai, key figures in the Lord of Light religion (well, one is basically who the religion is based on) were actual people/beings from a religion considered being false by the followers of the Lord of Light? Would put them in quite the dilemma.
Lord of Light fanatic "Your gods are false! The Lord of Light, R'hllor, is the one true god!"
Child of Forest: "Dude… R'hllor was a one of us Children of the Forest and worshipped the old gods."
My annoyance with the idea of Lightbringer. I have seen many fics where this legendary sword, apparently used to defeat the Great Other / The Night King is either Long Claw or other Valyrian steel sword in disguise waiting to be reactivated, hidden in Winterfell or some other major castle and how Jon will usually use it to vanquish the Night King and his entire legions with ease.
Sorry for the rant.
I wanted to play around a bit with some of the famous words/sayings of the GoT. Especially their origins and why. Like why "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." Probably just a warning/superstition of old, but what if it had a deeper meaning/reason?
Now, to clear up a few things:
Yes, Valyri was from what would become Valyria and that sword she had was the forerunner/early first version to the Valyrian steel swords.
No, Valyri is/was NOT the ancestor to Daenerys. From what I have been able to gather, House Targaryen was an upstart among the nobles of Valyria.
Anyways, hoped you enjoyed this other stray of mine I had into the GoT fandom.