Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 82: Dark Sister
Alysanne's POV
Visenya wanted to continue training. However, it was not your typical sword training. No, it was a dragon training. Using magic spirits have, she conjured Viserion's spirit into the realm so we could practice. This was a higher risk, for the Army of the Dead has the advantage in not only numbers but an Ice Dragon. Visenya was serious about the Ice Dragon.
"I've never crossed paths with an ice dragon," Visenya said as she told me while sitting on the dragon throne. "But it never stopped the tales and stories of their destructions."
"Is there a way to stop it?" I asked.
"It depends on the dragon's condition," Visenya replied. "Are you dealing with a dead dragon that has been resurrected by the Night King, or has this dragon been frozen alive for eight thousand years and under a spell?"
"So, if we are dealing with a dead dragon, then the Night King must be stopped…" I thought aloud.
"But if under a spell, then you must stop it," she said, standing up.
"How can I stop a dragon made of ice?" I asked.
"Simple, by using your Valyrian sword." She answered.
I paused and stared at the Targaryen sword secured on my hip. My sword wasn't a broad sword or a long sword. Not even a bastard sword. It was an arming sword, just a few inches longer than a short sword. How in the Seven Hells am I going to kill an ice dragon with an arming sword?
Thus, Visenya had to teach me how to fight while riding on a dragon. Viserion and I needed to be in sync when in flight. Visenya would ride Vhagar, and it was a dance of dragons. Vhagar was a massive dragon, practically the size of the ice dragon, so it helps in comparison. Viserion and I fought them, trying to figure out to get me on the ice dragon and to end it. Especially figuring out a way to find the heart for a human kill. Let alone a specific spell.
Sadly, each fail attempt has me falling to my death and waking up back in the real world.
I groaned, lying in bed, staring at the beams of the ceiling.
"Seven Hells," I growled as I sat up and walked over to the window, seeing that it was still dark.
The adrenaline from the fall was still pumping through my veins. Sleep avoiding me intensely that I can't close my eyes. My veins were pumping burning hot that sleep would be useless. In the end, there was nothing to do. My council was still asleep, and with the Long Night around the corner, I need to let them have much sleep as possible. Needling to clear my head, I got dressed before making my way out my chamber and the Keep. Maybe a flight with Viserion can help.
As I made it to the stable, I got a horse to make my way.
"Where are you going?" a stern female voice asked.
I turned around to see Lady Lyanna standing at the entrance of the stables.
"I'm going for a ride with Viserion," I said. "Why are you up this early, Lady Mormont?"
"I couldn't sleep and saw you in the halls," She said as a matter of fact.
"I see," I replied. "Care to join me for a ride?"
"As in riding a dragon?" she asked.
"Yes," I answered.
She paused, staring at me intensely, "My advisors wouldn't agree."
"And yet your advisors and Maester aren't here," I countered.
Lady Lyanna thought about it before she nodded. So, getting two horses saddled, we made our way to the field where the dragons were. Currently, Rhaegal and Drogon were still asleep; only Viserion was awake. Before we went into the straight flight, I had Lady Lyanna do the bow and greetings to Viserion. The golden dragon paused, leaning forward to smell the she-bear's scent, noticing a similar scent to Jorah, nodded with a bow giving the girl consent. There Lyanna petted Viserion's snout, while Viserion breathed warmed air on her.
The stern girl couldn't hold back a smile that lifted her lips.
I smiled softly, as I helped Lyanna climbed onto Viserion's back. I had her sit in front of me, using a rope to make a makeshift harness that secured Lyanna to me. The last thing I need is the young Lady of Bear Island falling off. Afterward, I secured the original harness to Viserion's saddle.
"Valahd," I whispered, synchronizing with Viserion as we become one in mind and spirit. The surge of energy filled my veins as Viserion spread his wings, shrieking, taking off to the sky. Lyanna gasped, feeling the weight of her stomach dropping before what sounded like a laugh. It was short, but I could sense that she was enjoying it. It wasn't an elaborate flight, not wanting to frighten the girl. So, we kept the flight neutral.
Viserion continues to fly, as the sunrise was making its way from the east. So many thoughts were going through my head in preparations for war, and yet flying helped clear my mind.
"The world looks so small," Lyanna commented.
"Yes," I said. "It may look small from above, but it is still the same in the end."
Lyanna nodded, "What is that over there?"
Over in the horizon from the South seemed to be a mass. I gestured Viserion to head that way; we were roughly thirty or so miles from Winterfell. Thus, making our way over, we noticed banners in the distance. It wasn't long after getting a better look to see a red archer on a green field.
"It's House Tarly," I noted.
"Finally, they show," Lyanna muttered.
"Couldn't agree more," I said. "We best head back,"
Lyanna nodded as Viserion turned around, making our way back to Winterfell. As we continued on North, I noticed something different. The clouds were becoming condensed like a storm was coming at sea. But it wasn't coming in close.
"Is that normal for the north, those clouds?" I asked Lyanna.
Lyanna scrunched her face, "No. It doesn't."
"Hold on," I told her.
Not risking it, I had Viserion fly faster back to Winterfell. Once we landed, I patted Viserion on the neck, thanking him for the ride before Lyanna and I went back to the Keep. The moment we entered the courtyard we saw a few of the staff were in panic. The moment they saw us, Lyanna's advisors rushed in.
"My lady, where have you been?" the advisor asked.
"I was with Queen Alysanne," Lyanna answered. "She took me flying."
"You rode a dragon?" the advisor replied in shock.
Lyanna nodded with a smirk as she climbed down from her horse. Jorah came over as he helped me down off the horse. I looked up, smiling at him. A part of me wanted to kiss him, but I knew the boundaries he made since coming to Winterfell. Jorah gave the nod with a small smile.
"I need to speak with King Snow," I said.
"Why is that?" Jorah asked.
"We saw the Tarly forces," I explained.
Ser Jorah nodded as we made our way back to the Keep. Just as we walked through the corridor, Jorah pulled us to the side of a nook and kissed me. This caught me by surprise as I took the opportunity to kiss him back. Feeling his scruff scraping along my cheeks while arms wrapped around him. It only lasts a few seconds, but the act itself sedated the desire. Although a small part of me craves more, just us going to one of our chambers and make love. In the end, Jorah panted as he places a peck on my forehead, indicating that was the end of our make out.
"Thank you," he said.
"For what?" I asked.
"For allowing Lyanna to fly," he answered.
"Well, she was up early and thought she might enjoy the sunrise," I said casually. "Although you need to talk to her."
"Has she said anything?" he asked.
"Not really, she is a quiet person unless she needs to speak her mind," I answered.
"That's a Mormont trait indeed," Jorah murmured.
I nodded, knowing that is true.
Anyway, we made it to the small hall to find King Snow and let him know about the Tarly's forces being at most thirty miles from here. But I also reported the density of the clouds coming from the northern parts of the mountains.
"It's like a storm is coming, but no thunder or lightning," I said.
King Snow nodded, "What do you recommend?"
"I suggest we do the evacuation now, the quicker we get the refugees out of Winterfell for White Harbor, the safer they are away from the battle," I said.
"House Umber hasn't returned yet," Jon said.
"House Umber may have to be in the Great Hall because we can't risk the lives of the others for one house," I said. "As much as it pains me to say this."
King Snow thought about it. The choice was his, but if he is wise, then he should start the evacuation to White Harbor effective immediately. After five minutes, King Snow nodded.
"I'll let my council know and get the women and children heading south to White Harbor," King Snow said.
I nodded, Velaryon and Celtigar are waiting there as we speak to take the refugees out of Westeros to the Claw Isles and Driftmark. There are a million people who populate the North. A million lives who are a risk as we speak. So, it was best to evacuate as soon as possible.
With nothing else to say, King Snow excused himself as he left to inform the others. By midday, the refugees were leaving Winterfell, heading South. I gave two thousand of my volunteer soldiers to escort them to White Harbor in case there was an attack. Leaving me with my eight-thousand Unsullied soldiers. As the evacuation was happening, a small company arrived in Winterfell, with Tarly banners. It was Lord Randyll Tarly. King Snow, our council, Dickon, and I waited in the courtyard to greet the new arrival. The only person who was absent was Samwell, which I understand completely.
Lord Randyll Tarly got off his horse and walked over to us. He paused, staring at his youngest son, seeing his condition has been fair.
"Lord Tarly," King Snow greeted.
"Your Grace," Lord Tarly replied to him and turned to me. "Your Grace, I have brought my forces to fight in this war."
"We thank you," I said. "We need all the men we could get."
"Of course," Lord Tarly said.
With nothing else to say, King Snow, lead the way to go over the plans for the battle. Lord Tarly approve of the fortifications, the trenches, and where to put our forces — agreeing to have the Tarly archers on the walls since they are the best archers in the South than any southern kingdom.
As the days passed, it seemed like the Gods were on our side. It wasn't long before the Stormlands knights arrived. A thousand men trained to fight in any condition. Leading the men was Ser Garett Wensington, who has become the Defacto of Lord of the Stormlands since the true Baratheon line diminished. His daughter Elain had secured the alliance when she married Lord Willas. I am indebted to House Wensington in the progress they have made since the War of the Five Kings. Once I reclaim my Birthright, I will ensure that House Wensington is rewarded.
King Snow seemed pleased as well; everything was coming together. Nearly all the Kingdoms who can serve were here. Our forces were rising by the numbers. All we have left is time. The question is…do we have enough?
.o0o.
I was lost in thought, staring out to see the final makings of the battlefield when Maester Wolkan came by. He was slightly out of breath as Ser Barristan and I turned around to face him.
"Maester Wolkan," I greeted, showing respect.
"Your Grace, Lord Bran wishes to speak to you in the Godswood," the Maester said.
"When?" I asked.
"Uh, now…" he said.
I nodded as we followed the Maester through the Keep. It wasn't long as we enter through the gates of the Godwoods where the young Lord will be. The Godswoods is a sanctuary, a place of worship for those who believe in the Old Gods. There used to be one on Dragonstone, sadly Stannis Baratheon burned the holy land for the Lord of Light. I've never seen the Godswood. Even during my time, I've been focused on the battle ahead. The moment I entered, there was this sense of mundane. In the temple of the Valyrian Gods, though forgotten held welcome arms. The temple for the Harpies, a sense of awareness. Even though I have not entered a Sept since I was a child, when I pray to the Seven, I felt content. However, in the Godswood, there was a sense of not being welcome.
Here it was a dark, primal place that was three acres of old forest that have not been touch for thousands of years. Probably before the Andals invasion, if not longer. All around, it consisted of sentinels, oaks, ironwood, ash, chestnuts, elms, hawthorn, and soldier pine. The grounds cover in snow. There was a sense of being watched when there is no one there as if the trees are watching your every move, judging you. In the center is a small, dark pool now frozen in ice with a weirwood tree staring down at it. The first time to see a weirwood tree in person. Especially when this ancient weirwood is a heart tree. Its bark white as bone, dark red leaves, and a melancholy face carved in the bark, its deep-cut eyes red with dry sap, like it was crying.
Facing the heart tree was Lord Bran. I gestured Ser Barristan to wait by the tree line as I approach the young man. He sat there, staring at the tree deep in a trance. There was something on his lap, wrapped in furs. Something long. The moment my boots crushed the powder snow, his head shot up and looked at me.
"Queen Alysanne," he said in a monotone voice.
"Lord Brandon," I replied.
"I'm no longer Brandon Stark," He corrected. "I'm something else now."
Something else indeed, Visenya whispered in my ear. The old religion has touched him.
The sound of the ravens cawing filled the air.
"You've been touched by your gods magic as have I," Bran said. "I have seen your endeavors, from birth to this day. A sad, tragic life, until your brother-husband perished under Khal Drogo."
My eyes widen, "How do you know of Khal Drogo?"
I swear we have not talked about my late brother-in-law. Drogo was a sensitive subject, even to Daenerys. We honor him for all he has done for my family. Despite breaking the contract with Viserys, he protected Daenerys and me until his dying breath.
"I can see everything. Everything that's ever happened to everyone. Everything that's happening right now. It's all pieces now, fragments. I need to learn to see better. When the Long Night comes again, I need to be ready."
"How do you know all this?" I asked.
"The Three-Eyed Raven taught me. He was he, and soon I became him. It's difficult to explain."
"I heard worse," I muttered then asked. "Tell me something from the past. Something that isn't common."
Bran paused, staring at me in a deep trance before saying, "You were so beautiful in Qarth. A starry night, not a single cloud with the moon shining above. You were so beautiful . . . in your purple dress. You were talking to Ser Jorah after receiving word from your Host about the news in Westeros. Daenerys telling you to take the offer, but Ser Jorah advising you to wait. When you two were alone, you were questioning yourself. But Ser Jorah told you, "…you have a gentle heart. You would not only be respected and feared, but you would also be loved."
I gasped slightly, for that was such a long time ago.
"It is one of the possible futures I see from you," he added.
"What is it you want to talk about?" I needed to change the subject.
"The last Three-Eyed Raven had something he could no longer keep," he explained, removing the furs on the object in hand. "Before his departure, he asked I return this to his mortal family."
Once he removed the furs, he exposed the object. It was a longsword, as the pommel was in the shape of golden fire. The grip bound by black leather, while the flames continue onto the crossguard. On the rain-guard was a ruby. Bran unsheathed the blade from its scabbard, revealing Valyrian steel.
Dark Sister, Visenya whispered.
My eyes widen, "How…Dark Sister has been lost for centuries. How did you get your hands on it?"
Last I recalled, the previous owner was Ser Brynden Rivers. He vanished after decades of serving in the Night's Watch. No one has ever seen Bloodraven and Dark Sister since 252 AC.
"Bloodraven was the previous Three-Eyed Raven, he wanted you to have this," Bran said, handing it over. "Although you already have a sword."
I collected the blade staring at a forgotten jewel in my family. The only remaining artifact from Aegon's Conquest has been his ring, which I wear around my neck. Dark Sister and Blackfyre, my houses two priceless heirlooms had vanished since the first Blackfyre rebellion. The knowledge my family had left of the two Valyrian swords was one lost beyond the Wall, while the other in the hands of the Golden Company. Recalling the memory, Viserys trying to forge a contract with the Golden Company, and the Commander having Blackfyre secured on his waist taunting us. Now, Dark Sister was in my grasp.
Then came the knowledge that another Targaryen was dead. So only three dragons remain in the world. All this time, a distant relative was out there beyond the Wall as the Three-Eyed Raven. All this time…
"Thank you," was all I could say.
"I know the sword will be in good hands," he said. "Although it was not in your hands in the beginning."
I nodded since I was not trained in Longsword's. I only know how to fight with the short sword and arming sword. But thinking about it, I know the proper swordsmen who deserve to wield Dark Sister in the Long Night. Visenya created the Kingsguard, so only a Kingsguard shall use her until then.
"Anything else you want to talk about?" I asked.
"When the time comes, aim for the heart," he replied.
"I don't quite understand?" I replied.
"During the Long Night, when the time comes…aim for the heart." Bran explained.
I could only nod, understanding where this was going.
With nothing else to say, I nodded to Bran before going back to Ser Barristan, who stood there the entire time.
"What do you have there?" Ser Barristan asked.
"Dark Sister," I answered.
Ser Barristan's eyes widen as he stared at the sacred artifact.
"I'm not trained in the longsword, so…will you do me the honor of wielding Dark Sister," I said.
"Your Grace," Ser Barristan said, baffled by my gift. "You shouldn't…."
"Prince Aemon Targaryen once held this sword. He was once the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I insist," I said, handing it to him.
Ser Barristan held the sword eyes still wide in awe, holding a priceless gem.
"Thank you," he said.
I placed my hand on his shoulder, "You have been a loyal friend and served my family. Without you, I would have been lost in Westeros. You are the only person I have from my past." Afterward, I hugged him. "And a father figure."
"Alysanne," he whispered, wrapping his arm around me. "You and your sister have been daughters to me. I am honored to serve and protect you."
"Thank you," I murmured.
Ser Barristan nodded as he pulled away.
"Promise me one thing," he started.
"What is that?" I asked.
"No matter what, you and Daenerys remain in the sky," he said.
I nodded, knowing that is where my battle will be. Although his thoughts were different. Knowing Daenerys and I will not be in the battle where the Wights will infest the field. In the end, the Long Night was coming, and none of us are mentally prepared for it.
.o0o.
Courtyard
A sound of a horn caught the Keeps' attention. Jon, who has been occupied going over the battle Plans with the Knights and Lords of the Seven Kingdoms, stopped what he was doing and went to investigate who has arrived. Has House Glover reconsidered and sent men to join the battle? All he could pray from the old gods are more men.
As he came out to the courtyard, see a handful of horses with double riders. He spotted his once brother and the 999th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. Eddison Tollet, or better known as Edd. Seeing him getting a hug from Sam, who rushed to greet him. The two embraced in a brotherly way. Jon was pleased to see his two friends from his years on the Wall. He made his way over, excited and relieved, when all of a sudden, a massive weight tackled him. Jon nearly fell when a boom of laughter caught him from crashing into the gravel. He looked up, seeing Tormund. Both men chuckled, glad to see his wildling friend alive as well.
"My little crow," Tormund chuckled.
"I thought we'd lost you," Jon panted, catching his breath.
"Almost," Tormund said, shaking his shoulder.
Jon nodded before giving Edd a proper hug. He also noticed Beric Dondarrion was alive as well as he leaned over, giving the man a handshake. Once done, he pulled back, looking at Edd.
"How did you find each other?" Jon asked.
"We met up at the Last Hearth," Edd answered.
"The dead got there first," Tormund added.
"The Umbers?" Jon asked, taking a deep breath.
"Fighting for the Night King now," Beric answered.
"We had to travel around them to get here. Whoever's not here now is with them." Tormund said.
"How long do we have?" Jon asked.
"Before the sun comes the day after tomorrow," Tormund guessed. He looked over his shoulder, "The big woman still here?"
Ever since Tormund came south of the Wall, there was little interested until he laid his eyes on Lady Brienne. Lady Sansa's sworn-shield and protector. He tried to woo the woman in the Southern way. He was not following his method of just taking her to be his bride. A challenged. Tormund loves a challenge.
However, Jon was not thinking about Tormund statement. They barely have a day left. Not enough time. The only thing he can be thankful for is evacuating his people to White Harbor. By now, they should be loaded onto the Valyrian ships and preparing to head South. He doesn't want his people to become the monsters he has encountered over the past five years.
"We better assemble the war council," Sam advised.
Jon nodded in agreement calling for everyone.
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