The Keeper

Chapter 47 – Objective Keeper

A shiver went down Brienne's spine as she studied Griff's calm satisfaction. His Martell blood showed in the cool smile that had also graced his Uncle Oberyn's face. Griff was building up his power base, even while he carefully bolstered support in the Riverlands, and through it, in the North. As Tyrion had stated, the leaders of the Reach, the Stormlands, the Westerlands, the Crownlands and now the Riverlands, all owed their positions to the Prince of Dorne. Once the North and the Riverlands swore fealty to Griff through Jon Snow, only the Vale and the Iron Islands remained. Did Griff have a plan to gain their loyalty, too?

"Queen Daenerys won't allow you to take what's hers," Tyrion warned. "She'll answer you with all the power at her command, if you try to take the Seven Kingdoms from her."

Griff looked at the Hand but his expression didn't alter. Brienne understood. There was no point in arguing about events that hadn't, and might never, occur. Tyrion was smart and competent but he was forced to approach ruling the Seven Kingdoms while immersed in the conflict. Griff had worked from the shadows for the past eight months, knowing his own role, strengths and assets. It had allowed him to observe how others reacted and adjust accordingly. He had, as he'd done for his entire life, been allowed to plan in peace and secrecy.

While Griff had strategized, learned and prepared, everyone else had been forced to react to the wars surrounding them. Daenerys was fighting for what she thought was her birthright. Jon was trying to prepare armies for a war greater than all of them. Griff, instead of direct confrontation, had planted seeds for a quiet rebellion, one he'd win with cunning and compassion, instead of his family's history of fire and blood.

"I've done nothing against my aunt, Lord Tyrion," Griff denied, keeping his tone mild. "In fact, I've worked hard to stabilize the Seven Kingdoms. I've ensured Dorne will not march against King's Landing; strengthen the Reach by supplying a strong leader to ensure order; confirmed the Stormlands and Crownlands are in the care of stable lords; installed a well-respected lady to hold the Westerlands and am working to restore the Riverlands. Now that members of House Tully hold both the Twins and Riverrun, they'll work together and with House Stark, to care for their people and make the lands prosper again. Aren't those your goals, too, Lord Hand?"

Tyrion's face flushed and his mouth tightened. Brienne didn't know exactly what Tyrion's goals were, but they didn't appear to include a rival with a greater claim to kingship, his own dragons and a solid plan to lift the Seven Kingdoms out of despair and starvation. The Hand looked from Griff to Varys seated beside Bronn at the end of the table.

"How long?" Tyrion demanded

Varys raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression.

"How long have you been secretly supporting Aegon Martell Targaryen?" Tyrion ground out, his jaw rigid. "I thought you were my friend, my ally, but you secretly supported King Aegon for the throne."

"Being your friend, your ally, doesn't preclude me from supporting the rightful king." Varys pressed his hands together under his sleeves. "We all know your nephews and, most certainly, your sister were terrible rulers. The people, Westeros itself, was dying under the command of the Lannisters. Even now, we're fighting to save the kingdom from your family's mismanagement, cruelty and stupidity. The Seven Kingdoms will perish without a strong, but just, ruler. King Aegon is that ruler."

Tyrion jerked back at that. "Queen Daenerys is just, as well. She freed the slaves in the Bay of Dragons."

"Freed them from what?" Varys asked quietly. "They have very little food, no power, no gold and no safety. Warlords attack from all sides, trapping the people inside the walls. The young prey on the old, the strong prey on the weak and children die in the fighting. The people may no longer wear slave collars but have their situations improved?"

Tyrion was silent, his face draining of color. The people of the Bay of Dragons were fighting for their survival because Tyrion had convinced Daenerys to leave Essos for Westeros. He had done it because he'd wanted to rain fire and blood on his enemies. Had Daenerys, the Unsullied and her dragons remained in Meereen, perhaps she could have developed a plan to quell the fighting and repel the invaders.

"You convinced her to come to Westeros," Varys pointed out gently. "She could barely manage the problems of three slave cities besieged by warlords. How does she expect to rule an entire continent at war with itself?"

Varys waited but Tyrion didn't respond to his question. Tyrion's eyes widened and he was at a loss for words. Tanda, seated beside him and Ned, seated across from him, both leaned back in the chairs, their complete attention on the Hand to Queen Daenerys. Still, Tyrion seemed unable to reply. Griff allowed the silence to stretch out for a moment then spoke.

"Lord Varys, it's good my aunt came to Westeros," he said, his voice equally mild. "We didn't know about the great threat of the Army of the Dead. She's where she needs to be to lead her armies."

"I agree, your Grace." Varys nodded. "The Unsullied, the Dothraki and the dragons are needed in the Great War. The Dragon Queen knows how to fight battles but she doesn't know how to create peace. She wouldn't have thought to reinforce the Reach and the Westerlands, nor would she have taken the steps necessary to start reviving the Riverlands. War is what we face now, but what about after this war? Daenerys knows only fire and blood, not diplomacy and compromise."

"So, you choose to turn against Queen Daenerys, against me, to favor King Aegon?" Tyrion accused.

"I never turned against you or Daenerys," Varys denied. "I convinced Cersei to discharge Ser Barristan so Daenerys would have a strong, honorable commander at her side. I arranged for Ser Barristan's safe journey to Slaver's Bay. I even arranged for your safe passage so you would be at her side. I did everything I could to make Daenerys strong in Essos. You're the one who turned against our plans and brought her to Westeros."

"I didn't know about your plans!" Tyrion snapped.

Tyrion's faced flushed. He was so angry, or perhaps wounded, that he wasn't able to understand the larger scheme. Jaime, however, understood. He looked from his brother to Griff then to Varys, frowning as he swiftly put the pieces together.

"Our plans," Jaime repeated. "It was your plan, with Aegon, to strengthen Daenerys in Essos? You plotted with him to send her advisors and military commanders? Even knowing Daenerys was your king's rival for the Iron Throne?"

"I thought they would help her," Griff explained. "As Lord Varys said, my aunt knows how to fight battles but she doesn't know how to create peace."

Brienne looked at Tyrion and remembered the exchange he had with Griff the first day King Aegon returned to King's Landing.

"I thought you were Rheagar when I saw you fighting stone men on that hill in Valyria." Tyrion studied Griff with equal intensity. "But then I was only six years old the last time I saw your father."

Griff's expression hardened. "I was only six months old the last time I saw my father. Then your family proceeded to kill him, my grandfather, my mother, my sister, my cousin and my uncles."

Tyrion winced. "And yet you still saved my life in Valyria. Why?"

"Daenerys is one of the few remaining family members I still have left. I knew you were being taken to help her rule Meereen. I'd heard you were smart and capable." Griff paused. "But those were just more Lannister lies. You failed miserably."

"He didn't fail," Brienne corrected. "He deliberately gave Daenerys bad advice so she'd abandon Essos. He wanted her to bring fire and blood to King's Landing."

"Daenerys was supposed to stay in Essos, wasn't she?" Brienne surmised. "You knew she had dragons. You probably sent men to confirm her dragons were growing stronger by the day and would soon fight at her side. Logically, her next step was to build an army. She would need help managing her men."

She looked from Griff to Varys then back to Griff. Griff glanced at Varys then nodded.

Brienne also nodded. "That's when you had Lord Varys convince Cersei to remove the greatest living Kingsguard from his service. You knew she'd replace Ser Barristan with a fool she could control. That made Joffrey even more arrogant and vulnerable, further weakening his rule. Then you had Lord Varys send Ser Barristan, the most honorable warrior in Westeros, to Meereen to support Daenerys."

Griff nodded. "My miscalculation was Tyrion. I thought he'd help her manage the freed cities, and take her armies to Volantis to continue to disrupt slavery. That was her goal. That's why she stayed in Meereen instead of coming to Westeros sooner. In fact, before I had the dragons to care for, I intended to meet her in Volantis to discuss my plans to break the slave trade."

"Break the slave trade?" Varys stared at his king. "How could you meet Daenerys in Volantis if you were hiding the young dragons in Valyria?"

"I couldn't," Griff agreed. "I planned the campaign before I met Brienne. I was still in Braavos, preparing to open a Golden Company office in Tyrosh. My aunt was already having trouble holding the slave cities. The Tyrosh office was only open a few days when Brienne returned as the Gods' warrior and the keeper of their dragons. I changed my plans to protect her and these five."

He smiled at the dragons gather around the table. The five looked back at him attentively, as if following the conversation. Brienne drew in her breath. She remembered that day, bringing the baby dragons, only three days old at the time, to the offices of the Golden Company.

"I need help. I need to leave Tyrosh immediately. I'm not safe here."

"By the count of horses you brought back, you killed at least a score of slavers," Tristan said. "I think they're the ones not safe."

Brienne stared at him. "Will you help me or not?"

Griff looked at the pack in her arms. Brienne hugged it tighter and shifted closer to the door. It would be awkward to unsheathe Oathkeeper while holding her burden. But she'd fight if they tried to take her pack by force.

Griff didn't reach for her. Instead he leaned back against the table. "Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere."

He exchanged looks with Tristan. "When do you want to leave?"

"Now."

Again, the men exchanged looks. Brienne waited, tense and ready to run, if needed. Finally, Griff nodded.

"Tristan and I are preparing a team to Volantis. We plan to leave in four days. You can come with us," he offered.

"Then I decided to return to Westeros to find Lady Catelyn's daughters. You went to Valyria to protect the dragons. I made you promise not to meet Daenerys," Brienne recalled, fighting to keep the guilt from her voice. "You would have helped the slaves in the Bay of Dragons, if not for me."

Was it her fault? People were suffering, dying, in Essos while she tried to direct everyone's focus to the upcoming battle against the Night King. The vague threat of a man who brought the winter storms meant nothing to children, starving and abused, barely surviving in the sandstone mountains of Meereen.

"Don't blame yourself, Brienne," Griff insisted. "You are the Gods' warrior, the instrument of their will. They brought you and the dragons to Westeros. If we fail to win the war against the Army of the Dead, then we'll have no chance to help the people in Essos."

"It's because of you that we defeated the Army of the Dead when they attacked the capital," Jaime pointed out. "Without you here, King's Landing might have fallen, creating a million new soldiers for the Night King's army. How can you help the people of Essos if we don't stop the enemy that has already drawn first blood here, in Westeros?"

"The past has ended," Ned added his own encouragement. "It does us no good to dwell on the decisions we've made before. The objective of this council is to strategize on how best to guide Westeros forward. Once we've saved ourselves, then we can look to helping others."

Tanda nodded in agreement of Ned's assessment. Even Balon, more often an observer than a participant, nodded. Moqorro, seated beside him, remained quiet and objective. Tyrion looked at Ned, frowned again, then turned to stare at Varys.

"How long?" the Hand repeated.

Varys raised his chin. "Always."

Tyrion's eyes widened. Varys straightened his shoulders and held Tyrion's gaze. Bronn looked from Varys seated on his right to Tyrion seated further up the table, at Griff's right. The knight then looked back at Varys and frowned.

"What do you mean? 'How long, always' what?" Bronn demanded. "Are you reciting poetry to each other? I'll move if you two need to sit together and hold hands."

Everyone, except Balon, Moqorro and the dragons, stared at Bronn. Balon and Moqorro retained their polite expressions while the dragons watched the knight with interest. He didn't annoy them the way he irritated the council members. Bronn merely shrugged his shoulders, unfazed by their censure. Tyrion ignored Bronn to focus on Varys.

"I meant, how long have you supported Aegon Martell Targaryen?" Tyrion demanded.

"I answered you." Varys's cool composure remained. "Always. I have always supported King Aegon. I have since the day his mother thrust him into my arms and ordered me to save him from your father's men."

"What?" Jaime gasped. "You were the one who saved Aegon? You smuggled him out of the Red Keep?"

Varys gave Jaime a steady look. "Someone had to save Rhaegar's children."

The unspoken sentiment that Jaime should have been the one to honor Rhaegar's last order was heavy in the air. Jaime opened and closed his mouth several times but no words emerged. Tyrion looked at his brother, then at Aegon then back to Varys, as unable to speak as his brother.

"Once Aerys gave the command to open the gates, I knew it was only a matter of time before Rhaegar's family died," Varys explained. "I went to Princess Elia and begged her to go with me. She didn't trust me. She knew Aerys had brought me over from Essos and didn't believe I would protect her children over my king. By the time I convinced her, Tywin's men were already inside the Red Keep. She thrust King Aegon into my arms and sent me to Princess Rhaenys's room."

Varys sighed and looked at Griff. "Your mother refused to come with us. She was weakened by your birth and she'd barely left her sick bed. She didn't want to slow down your escape so she stayed behind to distract the men. She was weak and fragile but she fought to her last breath to protect you."

Griff's face flushed and he swallowed visibly. He nodded silently. Tyrion hung his head while Jaime covered his face with his hand. Everyone else, including the dragons, were quiet and still as they listened to the Spider tell his tale.

"I went to your sister's room but the princess wasn't there. I looked for her but you had started to cry. Then I heard your mother's screams and knew I'd run out of time. So, I took you and fled." Varys sighed heavily. "It didn't occur to me to look for Princess Rhaenys in your father's room."

"You couldn't have known, Lord Varys," Griff said quietly. "She thought her father would save her. She didn't know Rhaegar had left his wife and children to dishonor House Stark. How is a three-year-old to understand her weak, selfish father had deserted her?"

Griff looked at Catren and Ardayn seated on the table in front of him. He held out his arms to them. Catren flew into his lap while Ardayn, more independent by nature, moved down to the edge of the table, close enough for Griff to put his arm around it. Gallan looked at Brienne, sensing Griff's pain but unsure what to do about it. Brienne and Podrick both reached for the blue dragon, pulling it closer to them.

"I'm not that kind of man." Griff looked down at Catren and Ardayn but everyone understood he was talking to all of them. "I won't betray my family or Westeros. I'll do whatever is needed, including compromise and concession, to restore the Seven Kingdoms and bring Westeros back to glory. I'll do what Rheagar didn't have the honor or decency to do."

The conviction in his voice throbbed throughout the room and the dragons responded. They all cried out. Catren puffed up in his lap while Ardayn rose into the air. The silver-grey dragon draped itself across Griff's shoulders and squawked. Gallan pulled away from Brienne and Podrick to fly to its father. Griff rested one hand on Ardayn and held out the other to Gallan as it landed before him. Even sleepy Allwyn and injured Serdun sat up in Podrick and Brienne's laps, crying out their encouragement to Griff.

For a moment, the dragons were the only ones moving. Tanda and Ned pressed against their chairs, as if trying to give the dragons more space. Tyrion and Jaime were still caught up in their guilt and misery. Bronn, Balon and Moqorro all watched, looking from the Griff to the dragons and back to the king. Then Ned cleared his throat and looked down the table at Varys. The Lord of Starfall's violet eyes were dark with compassion and sadness.

"Princess Elia was a daughter of Dorne," Ned stated. "Our people's hearts are strong even when their bodies are not. She, like all Dornish, gave her life for honor. Her sacrifice ensured Prince Aegon would survive to lead his people out of the Long Night."

Brienne looked at Ned. What he said was true but it wasn't the whole truth. Griff was more than the Prince of Dorne, even more than the prince that was promised. He was the Sword of the Morning, the prince who would bring the Dawn. Princesses Elia and Rhaenys had to die for Griff to become who he needed to be. Brienne inhaled deeply as she recalled explaining it to Griff in the godswood.

Griff drew in his breath. "Because we need Dawn to fight the Army of the Dead."

"Yes," Brienne agreed. "Westeros needs the greatest sword in the world, wielded by the fastest swordsman in the world. You are the Sword of the Morning, the sword that will protect the realms of men. You wouldn't have become who you were destined to be without men like Ser Manfrey, Ser Jaime and Lord Tywin Lannister."

Griff jerked back. "Tywin Lannister has done nothing for me."

"Yes, he has," Brienne corrected harshly. "His methods were brutal but they were effective. If he hadn't sent Gregor Clegane to murder your family, you wouldn't have been smuggled out of King's Landing. You would have been raised in the capital or Dragonstone or Sunspear, known as the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. You wouldn't need to prove who you were. Would you even have thought to try to claim Dawn if you didn't need to prove you were the son of the sun?"

"No." Griff stared at her, his face draining of color. "I would have interpreted the prophecy as others did. I'd have assumed it meant 'dawn' as daybreak."

Brienne nodded. "Thus, the world wouldn't have the weapon or the warrior it needs to defend it against the Army of the Dead. Tywin orders were brutal and cruel but they were necessary. The Gods did what had to be done to create a weapon powerful enough to fight for the living."

"Lord Varys, what did you do after you smuggled King Aegon out of the Red Keep?" Tanda asked. "How were you able to keep him secret for all these years?"

"I sent him to Essos, where he lived with a friend of mine," Varys explained. "Then I learned one of Rhaegar's closest friends had joined the Golden Company, after being stripped of his title and lands by Robert Baratheon. We approached him to raise and prepare King Aegon. I thought it best the king be raised by a man who understood honor and duty."

"Who was this man?" Ned asked.

"Lord Jon Connington," Varys replied.

He was about to continue when Bronn snorted. The Spider – and everyone else – turned to stare at the knight. Bronn looked at Varys with a mixture of disgust and pity.

"If you think Ron Connington is a man who understands honor and duty, then you're in serious trouble," Bronn informed him.

"Jon Connington," Griff emphasized, "not Ron."

Brienne gasped softly, remembering Ronnet Connington's insulting refusal to become betrothed to a freak like her. She'd only been a girl of twelve when he'd given her the rose and walked out on her. The humiliation of his refusal had stayed with her for years, only soothed when she'd met the kind and courtly Renly Baratheon. The dragons, sensitive to her aching pain, squawked and turned to her. Serdun, in her lap, and Allwyn, in Podrick's, both leaned against her, offering their magical warmth and acceptance.

"Brienne, why did you gasp?" Griff demanded. "Why are the dragons upset? Do you know Ron Connington?"

Despite her best attempt to control it, Brienne felt the heat flush into her face. She looked down at Serdun instead of up at her king. Even after all these years, after her hard-won increased self-confidence, it still hurt to remember the rejection.

"My father tried to betroth me to Ronnet Connington," she admitted softly. "Father thought Jon Connington was one of the most honorable men he knew. He assumed any man raised by House Connington would be equally kind and honorable." She drew in a deep breath. "Ronnet took one look at me and refused the betrothal."

She kept her head down, not wanting to see the pity and understanding on everyone's faces. The dragons screeched again. Ardayn left Griff's shoulders to fly to her, landing on the table in front of her. She pressed her forehead into the silver-grey dragon's neck as she heard Griff's harshly indrawn breath.

"How dare he," Griff snarled.

She couldn't see his face but she heard the fury in Griff's voice. Catren and Gallan, still with him, cried out, absorbing their father's throbbing anger. But even knowing her king supported her didn't erase the pain of the memory.

"It was necessary, your Grace." She spoke to Griff but kept her forehead against Ardayn's neck. "We both know the Gods have been preparing us to fight the Great War. If I'd married Ronnet, I wouldn't have become their warrior and the keeper of their dragons."

Ardayn, normally reserved, rubbed its head against her hair. The dragon had clearly picked up its mother's pain and humiliation. Serdun, the other half of her most ardent guards, pressed its head against her heart, warming her through with its magical heat. She smiled, grateful the pain was in her past and the dragons were her future.

"Nor would you have become my sworn sword," Griff noted, his voice shaky. "I wouldn't have you at my side."

Brienne stilled at the sudden vulnerability in his voice. Heat flushed into her face and she dared not look up. Not be at Griff's side? What would her life be without him? King Aegon was the future of Westeros, if not the whole world. A king who would serve his people, not rule them. She remembered her thoughts the night she'd given herself to her king.

She knew hers was not a future of handsome lords or pretty flattery. Her future was to serve under a great leader, one who gave the best of himself to bring out the best in those he protected.

Life as Ron Connington's wife, barely tolerated and miserable, was unthinkable. At the time, his refusal had left her in tears. Now she understood how fortunate she'd been to have avoided such an unhappy marriage.

"It is as intended, your Grace." She was proud of how steady her voice sounded. Even so, she continued to nuzzle Ardayn rather than look up. "I am exactly where I should be."

"Yes, you are. Even so, Ronnet Connington acted dishonorably." Griff's voice was even and controlled again. "Brienne, I promise you, I'll drag this Ronnet to your feet and make him repeat apologies until his throat bleeds."

"That's going to be hard," Bronn said, his tone casual despite the tension. "Since Ronnet has a broken jaw and is missing some teeth."

"What?" Brienne finally looked up from Ardayn's neck. "You know Ronnet Connington?"

"Sure," Bronn confirmed. "He was with us when we broke the siege at Riverrun. He saw you when you came to try to secure the Blackfish and his men to go to Winterfell. Connington said something about you fighting with a bear and Ser Goldenhand here didn't like it." He nodded to Jaime. "So, the Lord Commander cracked him across the face with his golden hand."

Brienne raised her head to stare at Jaime. "You broke Ronnet's jaw because he spoke about me? What did he say?"

Jaime flushed and refused to meet her gaze. "It doesn't matter what he said. He didn't say it with the respect befitting a lady. He won't make that mistake again."

Brienne stared at him in shocked amazement. She didn't believe Ronnet's words merely lacked respect. As a former Kingguard and bannerman, she knew how men talked and the subjects they enjoyed talking about. It was just Ronnet's bad luck that he'd said it near one of the few men in Westeros wouldn't tolerate disrespect towards her.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Jaime looked down at his golden hand, now mangled and partly misshapen after melting against Cersei's burning body. The dragons also looked at Jaime, sensing Brienne's warm gratitude towards the Lord Commander. The council members, Tyrion especially, looked at Jaime with approval. Bronn, seated next to Jaime, rolled his eyes.

"I can still change seats if I need to," Bronn reminded, but was careful not to look at anyone in particular.

On cue, Jaime, Tyrion and Griff glared at him. This time, even Ned and Tanda joined in their disapproval. Balon and Moqorro still had calm, neutral expressions on their face but their eyes appeared to darken the longer they looked at the knight. Bronn shrugged, not concerned with their annoyance.

"Your Grace, I'm confused about one point," Ned questioned. "No one knew you'd survived the sacking of King's Landing. The Mountain presented a dead baby, claiming it was you. Why did he do so if you had escaped?"

"Tywin Lannister wasn't a man who tolerated failure, Lord Ned," Griff explained. "He would have executed Gregor Clegane if it became known I'd survived. So, Gregor took another baby, pounded its head unmercifully and presented it to Tywin. The poor babe was unrecognizable after Gregor finished with it." He shook his head. "Sandor was right. His brother didn't suffer enough for all the crimes he committed."

"His actions, though not his intention, protected you, your Grace," Varys noted. "Tywin and Robert didn't know you were alive so they didn't try to hunt you. Your aunt and uncle spent their lives running from the sellswords sent to kill them. Sometimes, I was barely able to reach them before Robert's assassins did."

Griff nodded soberly. The dragons cried out in concern. Catren, in his lap and Gallan, under his hand, both looked up at Griff. Ardayn began to walk the length of the table, causing Ned and Tanda to stiffen. Catren leaned heavily against Griff while Gallan laid its head on his arm. Griff's lips curled into a smile as he held out his free hand to Ardayn, clearly warmed by their support. Jaime cleared his throat and looked at Griff.

"I'm sorry about Jon Connington," Jaime offered. "I met him several times and thought he was a good, honorable man."

Griff looked up and met Jaime's gaze coolly. "He still is."

"What?" Jaime jerked in his seat. "But I heard he was driven out of the Golden Company for theft and drank himself to death."

"And thus, no one looked for him, either," Varys pointed out. "Lord Jon allowed his honor to be besmirched in order to protect the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Honor that has been restored," Griff announced. "Jon Connington is alive and well. He's also the new Lord of Storm's End and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."

Tyrion's eyes widened. "You've given him House Baratheon's stronghold?"

Griff met his gaze. "Robert Baratheon stripped Lord Jon of his lands and titles for his loyalty to House Targaryen. My aunt, your queen, gave Storm's End to the Golden Company. Who will protest his appointment? There are no Baratheons left to manage the keep." Griff's cool gaze became ice-cold. "After all, your niece and nephews weren't Baratheons, were they?"

Tyrion broke eye contact with Griff and looked away. Griff's gaze moved from Tyrion to Jaime, the true father of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen Baratheon. He held Jaime's gaze, as if daring him to speak out against Lord Jon's appointment. Jaime's face flushed and he silently lowered his head.

"There is one Baratheon, your Grace," Podrick explained. "He's Robert's bastard, a blacksmith who pledged himself to House Stark."

"I'm aware of this Gendry, Podrick," Griff assured him. "He shows promise. By all accounts, he's strong, brave and honorable. We'll see what becomes of him after the Great War."

Brienne sighed. "Much of what needs to be done is 'after the Great War'. We haven't created a plan to fight the Army of the Dead nor do we have any idea what this Night King wants."

"His motives are clear," Griff said, his voice flat and matter-of-fact. "He wants to enslave all of Westeros."

Brienne gasped. Everyone, including the dragons, stared at him. They were all still at hearing Griff's blunt declaration. The council members looked at each other, stunned. This time, Tyrion was the first to break free from his shock.

"Enslave?" Tyrion gasped. "The Night King isn't a slave master."

"What else is he?" Griff challenged. "He takes people's choices, power and even their lives away from them. He reduces them to a single objective – to serve him and bring more people under his control. He gives limited power to a small group of followers, his White Walkers, to command Wights, slaves of their own. They all exist to serve the Night King's objective."

Brienne felt an icy wave of cold chill her from head to foot, as if she'd fallen into an icy-cold bath. Instinctively, she tightened her arms around Serdun, drawing comfort from its magical heat.

"And what is the Night King's objective?" she asked quietly.

"The same as that of all tyrants." Griff looked at her, his indigo eyes darkening almost to black. "He wants dominion over every creature in Westeros, if not the entire world. He wants to control their decisions, their actions and even their thoughts. In short, he wants to be a God."

A God. The world was full of Gods and the identity that accompanied them. Most of Westeros favored the Faith of the Seven but many Northmen still worshiped the old Gods. The Iron Islands held with the Drowned God while many in Essos worshipped the God of Fire. Those were only the major religions. Each region had their own beliefs, ideas of who to worship and how. Griff had explained it when she'd first taken the baby dragons to the Golden Company's office.

"These are poor people, slaves and beggars all their lives. They want to believe in something, to find a reason for their suffering. They accept the horrors of gods like R'hllor, to give meaning to their misery."

Each person believed their actions were true and correct because they had faith in their God. That belief gave structure to their lives and purpose to their suffering. She, herself, had prayed to the Seven to give her life meaning and to serve a just king. Her prayers had been answered, not just by the Faith of the Seven, but by all the faiths. They had all joined together to bring dragons back into the world.

"I was born into the faith of the Seven. I am who I am today because of it," Brienne explained quietly. "But it was the Lord of Light who led me to the dragons and guided me safely back to the Narrow Sea."

"Then it was the Drowned God who gave us food and protection until the dragons had grown enough for me to leave them." Brienne looked around and saw the crowd watching and listening with rapt attention. She raised her voice. "Now it is the Old Gods who provide the meat to feed your children. This food the dragons provide is a gift from all the Gods. They have all provided for the dragons and now the dragons provide for you. No one, regardless of faith, shall be denied a share of this bounty."

The Night King wanted to take that away, to unite the people in a single belief, that he was their God. That was why the Gods had joined together and made her their instrument. They knew faith alone wasn't enough to fight the threat coming for them. The Night King didn't respond to logic or reason, wouldn't show mercy and couldn't be stopped by conventional means. The Gods had strengthened magic to fight a threat unlike any other. The Night King wouldn't just destroy humanity, it would destroy faith itself.

Without faith, without hope, the world would be shrouded in darkness.

Then the Long Night would begin.