I do not own Game of Thrones
"Once, long ago, before the age of Winter began, the first men lived side by side with the Children of the Forest, worshipping the Gods together as one. My brother and I were born during a great time of peace, born under a sacred Wirewood Heart tree, we came into the world together. With hair the same shade of red as the leaves of the Heart tree, and skin just as pale as the tree bark, we were seen as a gift from the gods. We knew nothing but happiness, but soon, our time of peace came to end.
When war raged against the land, and when the sacred Wirewood Heart tree's begun to be defiled by men from the South, the Children stole my brother. They took something from me that day, something I vowed I would take back, no matter the price I had to pay.
For thousands of years, I have laid in slumber. For thousands of years, I have been awaiting the day where I might take back what has always been mine. I know that one day, I will awaken. One day, I shall take back all that has been taken from me, but until that day, I sleep, and dream, of days long since past, and days where we might be together again."
Encased in clear ice, her red hair floats suspended around her, hands resting by her side, she stands suspended in the ice, a giant Direwolf lays encircling her, the beast bigger then the woman she protects. They look peaceful in their frozen slumber, but there is something deadly about the sleeping beauty and wolf who guards her.
Little is known about the Lady, even less about how she came to be hidden in the tunnels beneath Winterfell, but one thing is known, and that is that she a Stark. There is a tale which has been passed down through the generations, that one day, the Great Winter Lady will awaken, that she will seek out something which was taken from her. What exactly it was which was stolen has become lost with time, and many believe that the Lady is dead, but Jon believes.
He believes in the words his Father speaks to him as they stand together in the candlelight, gazing upon the frozen beauty. "She'll awaken one day, Jon, and maybe we shall be here to see it, and maybe we won't, but you should know this tale, for although you don't have my name, you have my blood and you will always be my son."
Jon turns at those words because even a boy can understand what his Father is telling him. Jon will always be a bastard, will never be a Stark, but he will always be the son of Ned Stark, no matter what anyone else might say, and somehow that's enough for Jon.
"When I was still but a boy, my own Father brought me down here." Ned began, and Jon turned to face the frozen Lady once more. "He told me how his Father and all those who have come before came to this place, to share with their children the secret House Stark guards." From there on, Ned told Jon all he knew of the Great Winter Lady, of how she has been forgotten throughout time, but the North remembers, and although her story is lost, House Stark still keeps its vow. "What are the Stark words?"
"Winter is coming," Jon answered, noticing his Father said House Starks words and not our words.
"Yes," Ned said while nodding. "Its said that when she awakens, a Winter the likes of which have not been since in Night King shall fall across the land." The Night King, a legend which only lived on in the North. Some thought him only a myth, but still, even today children all across the North have his name whispered to them as they fall to sleep. "I believe that day shall come, and I pray to the old Gods, that we survive."
With those words, the two stood in silence, only the dripping water and the sound of their breathing echoing the tunnels. After a time they left, but Jon often found himself coming back to gaze upon the sleeping beauty. He didn't have a Mother, and Lady Catelyn wished him gone, so it was here he often found his comfort, speaking to Lady of his worries, of his sorrow, of his pain.
When it came time for him to leave and join the Night's Watch, Jon found himself once more standing before the Sleeping Lady, wishing to say farewell to her, for although he might not have played any part in her life, she had certainly and would always be apart of his.
"I know you probably won't even notice I'm gone, but I still wanted to come and say farewell." He placed his gloved hand on the ice. "With Father going South, and myself to the Wall, I doubt you'll have many visitors." Robb rarely if ever ventured down, had said something chilled him whenever he gazed upon the Lady.
Once, Jon had found his half-brother standing here, standing as he was now, his bare hand had been pressed against the ice, his eyes glazed over as if unseeing, and he'd been whispering words to low for Jon to hear, but whatever he'd whispered had caused the ice to crack.
When later asked, Robb wouldn't remember any of it, wouldn't even know how he'd come to be in the tunnel which housed the Lady, far away from the Starks who were long since passed. They'd never know what happened to Robb that night, but Lady Catelyn made sure that he could never get there again, posting guards at the entrance, least Robb wonder down in the night again. She'd have had the whole tunnel closed off if she had her way, but Ned would never allow such a thing.
"Father says you have a connection to the Gods, that you'll live again because they will it, so if you can hear me," He took a breath, eyes focusing to see her more clearly through the ice. "Save my brother. Bran, he's just a boy, hasn't," He paused as he heard the sound of footsteps growing closer.
"It is good that you ask her to watch over Bran, I have already prayed to the Gods, but I too would ask her also to watch over him," Benjen said as he came to stand beside him, and Jon slowly lowered his hand. "You know, I remember when I was a boy, I too spent much of my time here." Benjen then pressed his hand to the ice, wiping away the frost to see her better. "She truly is the most beautiful woman to exist."
Jon didn't doubt him, he didn't think he'd ever find someone who held the same kind of beauty as the Lady before him, didn't even want to try.
"We are lucky men to have gazed upon someone so beautiful, not many men can say the same," Benjen said, and then slowly his hand followed the crack in the ice, his eyes intense as they took in the new detail. "How?"
"Robb." Jon offered, not knowing that Benjen hadn't actully been looking for him to answer. "He was sleepwalking, doesn't remember what he did, but I found him here, speaking to her, and at his touch, the ice began to break,"
"You pulled him away?"
"I did."
Benjen nodded, silent as he continued to stare at the ice before he turned and said, "We'd best leave, the King's party waits for no man, least of all us."
He could tell that his uncle wanted to say more on the subject, and later when Benjen went missing, he wished even more that he'd took the time to ask his thoughts. His Father is dead, Ayra lost to the South, Bran, and Rickon murdered by one they trust, and Robb, is all Jon has left in the world until a raven comes carrying the news that he is now alone.
The times of awakening grows near.
The dead walk the land.
The king, long thought gone has risen again.
His awakening shall awaken another, long lost in slumber.
"What are you saying, Bran?" Arya asks, trying to understand the words her brother had been telling her. It doesn't make sense, doesn't add up. The fact that Bran knows things, knows things he can't possibly know means that she trusts in what he says, but this makes no sense what so ever.
She was there when he told Jon of his true Mother and Father, and can believe that to be true, but this can't possibly be real. Its a myth, something passed down from generation to generation.
"It's as real as the Night King, and whether you believe it or not, it won't be dragon fire that will save us, it's her," Bran says, his eyes blankly staring at Arya. "I wish I could show you, show you why it must be her."
"Then tell me. Tell me what you've seen, like you did Jon, about his parents,"
"Their story is not mine to tell, so there is little I can say. " Bran began, "But what I can say is that they were born together, right here, under this very tree, during the time when Winter was not so long, and yet they are Winters children," Bran told, turning his dull gaze up the red leave above. "They took him from here, from her, but they did not realize what they had done by separating that which had come into the world together, that which the Gods made as one."
Arya was still, her hand resting upon the blade Jon had gifted to her so long ago. She'd never much cared for the Lady in ice, she was just that, a lady in ice. "So how do we get her out?"
"We don't," Bran replied, turning his gaze back to her. "The ice isn't something you nor I can break,"
"Then what? Dragon fire?"
"No," The cold wind shook the branches above, they're breathe creating hot puffs of air with each breath. "It's not normal ice, haven't you ever wondered why it doesn't melt? Why she's stayed like that for so long?" She chooses not to answer, instead offering him the same blank stare he had been offering her. "Tears."
"What?"
"The ice is made of her tears. The tears of her pain, her anguish, her sorrow, her hope. They keep her alive until he is close enough that she might feel his presence and awaken again."
Arya was silent, talking in all that she had been told, part of her didn't want to believe that some girl stuck in ice would be the one to save them, but she also wanted to believe in Bran, believe that they would all live.
"The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."
Arya frowned. "Stark words."
Bran shook his head. "It was a vow made between a brother and sister, who had no one left but each other. A vow she has held onto all this time, a vow that will give her the strength to destroy the Night King." With those final words, his eyes clouded over as he left once more to explore the past or do whatever it was he did.
Arra turned her gaze to the snow, white and pure, cold and deadly and wondered if she and the Lady were not so different. She too would do anything to protect her pack, what little was left of it, but could she kill one of her pack, could she kill the only one left of her family.
Standing she turned and made to leave Bran to wonder the past, he and Jon were all she had left, and unlike the Lady who slept beneath them, she would not allow either of them to taken without a fight, this was her vow, to her family.
Time has changed all that surrounds her, for how long she has slept she does not know. She walks the tunnels wondering how she'd come to sleep in such a dark place, and then she finds them, figures of the dead. The sight of stone Direwolves greet her, it gives her comfort to know her family has lived on.
Lady's huge form is walking ahead of her, the Direwolf standing taller than Sansa will be a terrifying sight to anyone they cross, but no Northman should have fear, for only those of the South shall know her rage.
When at last she emerges to the outside world, she finds herself surrounded by more stone walls, torches line the walls offering light through the night. It is silent as she walks, almost deadly so, as she walks through archways and wonders of the stone creation surrounding her.
The walls are high, so much taller then she had ever seen. She feels caged, trapped in this new world, ahead, Lady has stopped at another ache way, not waiting for Sansa before she disappears into the darkness that awaits. Trees await her when she follows. Trees which have grown, and yet are still so familiar become clear as her eyes adjust to the dark.
Her feet are bare, but she is not cold as she treads across the snow-covered ground, the path has not changed, it is still as it once was, much to her delight. The Heart Tree has grown in her absence but is a welcome sight as she kneels in her plain woolen gown.
"I come once more before you, the one true God, to renew a vow once made," She began, eyes rasing to look upon the face of her God. "I shall take back what is ours, take back what was taken, I shall fulfill my vow, no matter the price I have to pay."
Laugher close by had her quickly back on her feet, backing away into the darkness where the moonlight could not dare give her away. Eyes closing, she linked her mind to Lady, watching as she staked through the trees, her senses focusing on her surrounding.
From the safety of the treeline, they watched as two men in amour passed by the entrance, chatting amongst themselves, eyes swiping over Lady, yet not seeing her her hidden form. Eyes opening she followed the path back, Lady joining her she neared, her companion stood at her tallest, standing over Sansa as they made their way back out of the forest and into the stone creation once more.
Following the men's footsteps, she entered a yard of sorts and noticed the direwolf banners hanging from the high walls. Baskets of fire were placed around the yard, halting Lady she ventured further in alone, taking in the upper levels and the horse's nearby.
A man, dressed strangely passed by one of the upper open levels before disappearing into the stone building, never once taking notice of her standing alone. A single motion of her hand had Lady by her side, no sooner has she reached her side does the first shout ring out and she turns to see a man gazing at her, sword raised as he shouts.
"Intruder!Intruder!"
Shouts begin to ring out all around her, bells chiming from high above and ringing out loudly. Men with torches and swords seem to pour out of the walls, surrounding her, but never getting close. They whisper amongst one another, eyeing her and Lady before finally, a man dressed in all black steps forward, a white wolf of his own by his side.
He looks at her in disbelief, his breath catching as his eyes roam over both Lady and herself.
"My Lady, you have awakened?" His voice is deep and husky, it carries a familiar Northern accent, and yet there is something off about this man. He carries the looks of her people, but something about Lady's unease at the man tells her that not all is as it appears.
She is distrustful of this man, so decides to turn her attention to the wolf at his side. Smaller than Lady, he looks to be full grown, probably the runt of his litter, but he is still an impressive sight, but for she who grew up surrounded by the Direwolves of old, he is nothing but a tame beast in her eyes.
"My name is Jon Snow," The man carries on trying to capture her attention by taking a step forward, his brows pull together as he turns to look at a red-haired man behind him. "Maybe she speaks another tongue?"
"I understand." She says before the other man can answer. "I seek the one named Stark." She says pointing to the banner overhead.
There is a mummer among the men and then a noise comes from behind and she turns to see a boy in some kind of chair being wheeled towards her by a girl who looks like the man Snow but feels nothing like him.
"You been asleep for a long time, Lady Sansa. Much has changed since you walked the earth, but fear not, no man here will harm you."
"I do not fear them, I sense no magic from these people at all, but you, you carry old magic," Sansa says, cocking her head to the side she looked the boy over. He would be tall if he stood, though he was thin and lacked the strength a boy his age should most likely have, but taking into account that he wasn't standing, he probably had injured himself or had been born this way. "There can only be one reason I have awoken, so tell me," She stepped forward, eyes flashing as she asked, "Where is he?"
Time.
Time had changed the world around her, but one thing remained the same. Her brother was still out there, waiting for her to free him of his curse, and by her account, he had waited long enough.
The hall was filled to the brim with men from all houses North and South, all wanting to catch a glimpse of the newly awoken sleeping beauty, as they'd began to all her, but Sansa clearly cared about none but those of the North. She seemed to known which men belonged and which didn't and made it quite clear that she wouldn't have anything to do with any who was not of the North, even Jon himself.
The Dragon Queen had been kept away. Jon having visited her late last night and given her all the details he knew at the time, but Bran had locked both himself and Sansa away in his room, the two only emerging now, Sansa pushing Bran in his chair, her direwolf, bigger and far more aggressive then Ghost, prowling along behind them.
Whispering immediately came to a halt, all eyes turning to watch as this being, who had been asleep for thousands of years, who was a legend to their people, now walked among them like a God. She speared Jon not a single glance while she went about seating Bran at his usual spot, then took her seat beside Bran when he motioned for her to sit.
"My Lady," Lord Glover calls as he stands, his gaze respectful as he kneels down. "You have slumbered long, my Lady, but we the North did not forget you and yours while you slept." Shouts of aye ring out from other Northern men in the room, while those of the South look confused and worried to be left out.
"Your words are kind, and Bran has told me much of the war we face," She said as her hand reached out to sooth the muzzle of the direwolf who sat by her side, the wolf level with Sansa. "And although you say you remember, it seems much has been lost with time."
Confusion spreads across the room, and Jon takes this moment to intervene.
"Maybe we should wait for the Queen." Jon tries but is cut off.
"Traitor!" A voice suddenly shouts, followed by more shouts of rage.
"The long night is upon us once more, I can not say that we remember all, but if I might be so bold, can I ask if you fight alongside us in the battle to come." Lord Glover asks, raising his voice over the shouting, and the room quits. It is a question on many minds, this girl, will she help them? Jon too wonders of her answer.
"The Night King, might I ask what you know of him." She nods to a man from the South, wanting him to answer.
The man steps forward, his sign is not one known to Jon, and he doesn't bother to introduce himself as he answers the question asked of him. "He's a monster, my Lady, come to kill us all. If we don't fight together, then we have no hope." Cries of agreement go up from the man who is most likely his kin.
"He is my brother," Sansa says standing, and the room seems to suddenly grow cold as the torches around the room suddenly go out. Ice begins to form on the floor and walls, Southern men shiver in the cloaks as the cold sweeps over them while the Northerners look confused, they seem to understand that Sansa is no harm to them, and simply watch as the southerners beside them shiver and slowly begin to be freeze right before their eyes. Ice has begun to form at their boots and is slowly creeping up their bodies, and slowly creeping up Jon's own body.
"He was once a man, but now he is as you say, a monster. Do you know why he was turned into a monster?" She asked head bowed down and fists clenched, her hair a curtain concealing her/
"Sansa," Bran says and Jon can only watch in mute horror as she turns to show glowing ice blue eyes, eyes that mimic the Night King. "Perhaps you might find peace in the Gods wood, I assure you, no one shall bother you there."
Her body is still tensed, but slowly she relaxes, and with a single breath she seems to unfreeze the room. "Perhaps your right, Bran," Sansa says as her eyes return to their own bright shade of blue, they flicker to him as she turns to leave, and in her gaze, he see's death.