He brings the storm
There are a lot of rumors surrounding the Night King. He is infamous in Westeros, she later learns. They tell frightening stories of him. But to her, he is something else entirely.
She has gotten used to the cold. In the beginning she felt freezing, like she was dying, back than when she had just turned. But that has numbed over the centuries, the cold is a constant companion. She cannot even remember the last time she felt the sun on her face. She does have memories of how it felt, and sometimes she wonders if she will ever feel like that again.
'Too human.' She hears one of his generals whisper. She supposes she is. Apart from the blue eyes so much like her father's, the long white hair, her white eyelashes and her extremely pale skin, she could pass for a human. Her eyes flutter closed, long white eyelashes kissing her cheeks.
She keeps on stepping forward, long white hair softly blowing in the wind, her long white dress leaving a trail in the snow. Her furcoat is clasped tightly around her, more out of habit than anything else, since she does not feel the cold anymore.
She could pass for a human. A horse stops next to her, and when she looks up, she sees him look with cold eyes at her. She remembers how he was before, before he became this. Sometimes she thinks she still sees his old self flicker in his eyes.
She sighs and takes his outstretched hand, sitting behind him on the horse, as it slowly walks to her own dead horse. She is quick to mount that one, following the Night King, generals and the rest of the army behind them.
The only thing discerning her from the rest, is her too human looks and the crown of ice atop her head. Her father had made it for her, all those years ago when he still had some of his humanity.
It is the only thing that separates her from the rest of the army, since her father and his generals ignore her. It is the only thing separating her from the Wights, this fragile balance she has managed to attain, but she knows she is nothing to them. To him.
She knows he would leave her to die without any hesitation if the opportunity ever presents itself, and while it made her feel cold in the beginning, she has peace with it.
She sighs and follows her father, soft snowflakes falling on her already freezing skin.
She supposes once your heart is already death, nothing shocks you anymore.
