The Night's Queen
"The Mountain...Theon Greyjoy...Ser Meryn...Raff the Sweetling...Dunsen...Ser Ilyn...The Red Woman. Valar Morghulis," Beltaine whispered as she began making her way to Winterfell's great hall. Someday a wolf will hunt them down and kill every last one of them. On that day, I will taste their blood, smell their fear, and savor their pain. But I can't forget their names! If do, I'll never remember to kill them.
It had been getting harder and harder to remember the names or even what they had done to earn a place in her prayer. Repeating them doesn't help anymore...not really. I don't need to remember all of the names, she decided. Maybe if I just remove Ser Meryn from my prayer, I'll be able to remember all the others. He doesn't need to die just because he killed some dancing master who probably hated Arya and thought that Sansa was perfect just like everyone else. Who cares about stupid dancing lessons anyway? Mother probably forced me to take them because she wanted me to act boring and ladylike.
Arya of House Stark had never gotten along with her sister and even thought she hated her once, before she discovered true hatred. The hatred that Beltaine felt for those in her prayer. Now though, she would've given anything to be re-united with Arya's sister. Even if the Night's King murdered Arya, I could still try to re-learn how to be her. I'd even do my best to act like a proper Lady if Arya's pack would pretend they still wanted me. I could... No, that's stupid! Sidhe women were expected to be fierce warriors; it was one of the few things she liked about them.
And Sansa is dead besides. The last member my...of Arya's pack... The Night's King had told her that one of his raven Wights had witnessed the Rape of Riverrun and that the Tyrells had put Sansa's head on a spike on of the castle's walls. Beltaine wanted to add the Tyrells to her prayer, but he wouldn't tell her which ones ordered the attack. Someday, I'll find out their names and then I will kill them all.
When the Night's King tore down most of the Godswood, she couldn't understand why the sight of dead weirwood trees pleased her so much. Maybe Arya Stark had always hated weirwood trees, but if that was it then what had she hated about them? That can't be it; Arya loved the Godswood! Bran and I would sometimes pretend the sticks were swords and... Bran? He...the tree said... Could the weirwood be telling the truth? Bran, I remember now; he was Arya's brother! My brother! If he's alive and doesn't hate me, I could... No! I...I am a Sidhe. I belong in Winterfell with my brothers and sisters. We hate weirwoods! Why won't that stupid tree leave me alone? It keeps trying to talk to me when no one else is around. I tricked the Night's King into not cutting it down by telling him how much it scared me, what else does it want? My name is not Arya Stark...it's Beltaine, the Night's Queen thought to herself sadly as she realized that her heart had stopped beating once the Night's King murdered Arya.
Did Arya ever pray to anything besides the one true God? There must have been other ones before him; Arya of House Stark would not have prayed to The Great Other. She was wrong though; there are no old Gods and are were no new Gods. There is only one God and his name is The Great Other.
There were even a few horrible days when it was hard for her to remember that she'd once been Arya Stark of Winterfell. Arya of House Stark is dead, she decided, I am Beltaine. But "Arya Stark" will always be a special name...a wolf name. If any of the Sidhe ever mock it again, a wolf will hunt them down during the darkest hour of The Long Night and rip them to pieces. Even the Night's King had learned not to say that name. He has no right to speak to me of wolf names. No one does. I am the last of the wolves.
You were wrong father, Beltaine thought to herself sadly, only the lone wolf survived. She could still remember the names of her dead pack. Jon, Bran, Sansa, father, mother, Robb, and...and... No! I can't forget him! R...Rick...Rickard. The Night's Queen knew that if she ever forget Rickard Stark's name then she'd soon forget about him completely and wouldn't even know who he was if she ever saw him again...which she wouldn't. The only way that the dead can rise is as Wights and even they're not alive...not really.
My family wouldn't want me anymore even if they recognized me. Jon and Bran might pretend, maybe... They'd hate me or think I'm just some monster and not a wolf at all. They'd probably run away or maybe even try to kill me. Beltaine slumped down onto the floor and felt cold, bitter tears roll down her cheeks...tears that turned into tiny specks of ice the moment they touched the ground. The Night's King could be nearby. He will not see me cry, Beltaine decided as she wiped her eyes and forced herself stand up. Never!
The Night's King couldn't be in her prayer to the Great Other because he wouldn't tell her whether his real name was Dulrihan or Ramsay Snow. Even so, surviving him had been much easier than she had expected. The Night's King treated everything like a game and you were safe as long as you knew the rules. You had to know that no matter what he threatened to do, no matter how cruel the things he said were, he'd never actually try to hurt you unless he thought you were afraid of him, but if he noticed even a hint of fear then he would never stop torturing you. You had to know that he'd deny any request you made in the cruelest way possible unless you tricked him into thinking that you were going to let him watch you hurt someone. Even if it was just a Wight, the important thing was that he thought that you enjoyed hurting people as much as he did.
It wasn't easy, but on the rare occasions when she was able to trick him that way, Beltaine could make the Night's King do almost anything she wanted. He only let me keep Needle because I asked about it right after I said that I didn't want him to kill Big Walder because it would put an end to his torture and Freys don't deserve the mercy of quick deaths. They shouldn't have killed my mother! If Walder Frey hadn't killed her at the Red Wedding, I'd have given the boy mercy.
At least I will dream of wolves tonight! Every night, the Night's Queen dreamt that she was a direwolf, roaming the Riverlands and leading a pack of her own. Last night, she and some of her little cousins had feasted upon a group of Tyrell soldiers who had ventured outside the gates of Riverrun. The wolf dreams were the only thing that she knew the Night's King could never steal from her. They were the only time when she was truly free.
"The Mountain...Theon Greyjoy...Ser Ilyn...Raff the Sweetling...the Red Woman," Beltaine whispered as she approached Winterfell's great hall. No! There was another name. Was it Ryman? Aemon? Damon? Damon! Damon was one of the Mountain's men, she remembered, breathing a sigh of relief. "The Mountain...Theon Greyjoy...Ser Ilyn...Raff the Sweetling...Damon...the Red Woman. Valar Morghulis."
...
Beltaine stared at the door to Winterfell's great hall, chewing her lip. She had to pass through the room in order to go outside and practice her needlework, but she could hear Sidhe voices coming from inside the room. He's in there. At least there are many others with him. Maybe he won't even notice me.
As soon as Beltaine opened the door, she saw the Night's King seated high up on his throne of skulls. Theon was cowering next to him and it was packed with more Sidhe than she would've believed could fit in a single room...even one as large as Winterfell's great hall. No one heard me come in, not even any of the other Sidhe; they would've told him if they had. Beltaine often overheard the Sidhe talking of how Dulrihan had killed the previous Night's King, brought down The Wall, taken Winterfell, and conquered the North. But even if they hadn't liked him, the Sidhe hated her and would've told him for that reason alone. They were always whispering that she was too weak to ever be a true Sidhe. I've been trying to protect my brothers and sisters from the Night's King. I'm not Arya; I'm a Sidhe! Why do they hate me?
As Beltaine carefully made her way through the mob of Sidhe, she noticed that the Night's King was trying to get two young children to fight to the death with heavy pieces of wood. He kept promising to spare the winner's life, but all they did was cry for their mothers. Does he actually think anyone would ever believe a word he says? Stupid bastard. She somehow managed to make it to the door on the other end of the room without anyone noticing. Quiet as a shadow. She opened the door and it made a loud creaking sound. The room grew silent and Night's King slowly turned his head in her direction.
"Well, well, well, what do we has...have...has? Yes, have...have it is! What do we have here? Is it? Yes, I do believe it is my sweet wife. Join us, won't you?" The Night's King was plainly very drunk. That was good because it meant he'd be stupid. But he had still caught her trying to sneak past him and that was bad.
"Why? So I can watch you drink until you wet yourself? No, I don't think I will join you, although it smells like you've already soiled yourself a few times," said Beltaine, hoping she sounded as bored as she thought she did. It was good to insult him. You always had to make sure that he thought you weren't afraid of him. Otherwise, you'd end up like Big Walder or Theon.
"It wasn't a question," he replied calmly although his face had begun to twitch. Beltaine realized that she had never talked back to the Night's King when he was drunk and wondered whether Dulrihan still remembered that he couldn't hurt her. He'll probably embarrass himself no matter what he does. Stupid bastard. He almost looks frightened. Probably afraid that I'll make him look weak in front of the other Sidhe again.
"I will let slide...that one slide if," he burped, "if you do as you're bid and help me get these two shits to start fighting each other. Can't remember father so they must needs be punished. But you be a good little wolf and come near...here...come here now! Then you will sit like a good and," another burp, "a good and obedient dog."
For once, Beltaine really wasn't afraid of him. This wasn't the Night's King...it was just...she didn't know what it was. Whatever was wrong with him, none of the other Sidhe seemed to notice or if they did, were still too afraid of him to say anything. He can't remember his father anymore, she realized. Is he drinking so much because he's sad? No, this has to be another of his games.
"I'm not your stupid dog," Beltaine snapped.
"Roll over!"
"I said I'm not a dog! And your father was a Bolton. But you're just a bastard, don't you remember?"
"What...what did you say?"
"I said you're a stupid, drunken, crippled bastard and that's all you'll ever be!"
The Night's King's face darkened with rage and for a moment he simply stared at her silently. That was when Beltaine knew she had made a mistake. He was drunk which meant the game had different rules.
"Do you know what you do with a dog that won't behave? You sim-simply cut the dumb bitch's throat. Here...let me show you," he said unsheathing his ice sword with his left hand as he stood up and began to stagger towards her. He'll find me if I run and where would I even go? The North is his and Winterfell is my home. I won't leave again. Never!
"Now are you going to...going to behave like a good little wolf...dog...a good wolf? No more fighting or biting or bitching? Well...mayhaps biting is still allowed. Might enjoy that."
"Biting it is then," the Night's Queen replied, and bit down on her right shoulder as hard as she could on the exact spot where the stump of what had once been Night's King's sword arm ended. Beltaine forced herself to ignore the pain as she thought about everything that Dulrihan had stolen from her. The Night's King yelped in pain and lost his balance, dropping his sword and falling down. Beltaine ran over to him and grabbed his sword before he could react. Quick as a snake. She pointed the blade at his throat. The Night's King did not move an inch, but he was baring his teeth at her.
"Do you know who I am? I am Beltaine. You might be the Night's King, but I am the Night's Queen and if you ever threaten me again, I'll kill you. Do you understand, bastard? I can't hear you," she shouted.
"I under...yes," the Night's King answered quietly.
"Good, because if I ever have to point a weapon at you again..."
"Get...out...NOW! GO," the Night's King screamed.
I can't practice my needlework tonight, Beltaine decided as she carefully backed away from the Night's King. If I do, then I'll have to go through the great hall again once I'm done and he might still be in here. As the Night's Queen turned towards the door on the other end of the hall, she realized that all of the other Sidhe were silently staring at her. One by one, they all moved to the side so that she had a clear path to the door. Some of them even looked at her with what might've been pride or approval. Beltaine smiled to herself when she heard Dulrihan mutter that "those disloyal cunts never cleared a path for me."
I am the winter and the lone wolf has found her pack. My true pack. She dropped the Night's King's sword in front of the door and left the great hall. They are wolves too, real wolves just like me...even the Night's King. The Long Night will be a time for wolves and I am the night wolf. But I must needs remember who I was before or I'll end up just like the stupid Night's King. I will not forget about Arya of House Stark! Never! The Sidhe can't be my pack...not really. They can never be wolves. But if I'm a Sidhe, doesn't that mean... Beltaine bit her lip. The Sidhe are my pack, she decided. They are still my brothers and sisters. They just can't be wolves is all. There are no other wolves left...only me.
Beltaine barred the door to her bedchamber so that the Night's King would not be able to enter...if he could even make it there before he passed out. Stupid bastard. She whispered her evening prayer to The Great Other. "The Mountain...Theon Greyjoy. Valar Morghulis." No, that is wrong. "The Mountain...Theon...Theon...Theon...Theon Greyjoy!" Beltaine realized that she couldn't remember any of the other names in her prayer. What did he do? What's happening? I can't forget them...I...I... Beltaine tried to say her prayer over and over again between sobs as she struggled to remember just one of the missing names, but none of them ever returned to her and before long, she couldn't even remember the first two names. For the first time that she could remember, the Night's Queen fell asleep without saying her prayer to The Great Other. There were no wolf dreams that night...only nightmares.
