A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32 – THE FULFILMENT

Claira sat on the divan in front of the hearth with her hands together in front of her face, her elbows resting on her knees and the shadows casting long lonely images along the walls while the chatter of the fireplace was the only disturbance in the deep, heavy silence. The servants finished their duties quickly, and she'd been left alone for most of the day, until maester Adlyn came to find her with late noon, once more on the carpet in this vast space. With a kind word, and a gentle hand he had her sit with him on the soft pillows, and calmly explained his findings. Those words... Those words he was given, were the same that she'd heard those many long years ago at the standing stones. The Breath of Winter... That was her name, the one less known. She hadn't paid much mind to it, to be honest. But if it came to her again, it had to be true. Everything that had passed, was because it was meant to be so. Everything she had suffered, was but a bridge down this long road that fate had set out since gods only knew when. And in the end, he whom was so different from the rest of the world had finally come to her because he was destined to. Because everything was designed to fulfil this. She didn't exactly know how she felt about that, but supposed that the most accurate description was happy. She was happy that he could stay. That she could see him again. That she could love again... She glanced at the tray on the table, holding a plate with roasted turkey breast, pumpkin fritters, steamed vegetables, a slice of cheese and a goblet of rose wine, but didn't feel hungry right now. The sudden, unexpected and equally unbelievable news might have stripped her of her want for food, but she didn't mind it. She might have something later, when the amazement and daze left her. Perhaps, if what maester Adlyn had told her was true, Rychon would not take his life. He might even be waiting for her at the door as was his norm, by morning. A sudden sound made her jump, her heart pounding hard against her ribs. Then she stood and made her way to the door, and opened it, to find him standing in the hallway where he gently bowed to her.

"Forgive me, your grace. I was ordered to return to you." he advised, and she tried hard not to smile. She granted him entry into the lord's wing, then closed the door and passed him, desperately trying to control herself and retook her place where she stood in front of the great hearth, dressed in soft blue velvet with delicate bands holding the dress to her shoulders, open upper arms, and wide laced sleeves fastened to the girth. She continued to stare at the fire in silence, every thought and question flashing through her mind like the millions of stars.

"I apologise, for my absence." He pardoned as he waited patiently for his orders. Secretly she laughed, bringing her hands to her mouth to mask the sounds. Still as you always were...

"Falgon." she finally uttered softly, and he took a single step closer.

"Your grace?" he presented himself to her willingly, but she did not turn to look at him and just kept her vigil on the dancing flames. After everything...

"I need..." she hesitated, feeling the race of her heart through each vein.

"No, no that's not the right word. I want you to do something for me." she turned slightly, not focusing on him entirely.

"Anything, your grace." he bowed his head, as he always did, and finally she turned to look at him; her frozen eyes regarding him from the dancing shadows that lit and darkened her face.

"Leave your sword. You won't need it." she instructed, and then made her way up the stairway into the tower. He drew a deep breath, and then removed Summit from its place, leaning his sword against the wall next to the great hearth, and followed. He found her in the lowest room, closest to the lord's hall, smaller than the lord's chamber which Rychon now occupied and softly closed the door behind him so they may speak privately. The blue dress dragged behind her where she stood, again facing away from him, and he wondered what she was thinking. Why she was reluctant to face him. Another, smaller fireplace burned warmly where the flames danced gold and white, two chairs faced each other next to a thick brown bear pelt rug that covered the floor, and next to a dresser holding a pitcher and two silver goblets under the window, a bed stood to the far wall spread with blue and silver silk sheets under a cobalt draped canopy.

"Please, sit down." she invited. He then walked to the chair, but remained standing.

"If it please, your grace. I will stand. It seems biased that I should be at ease, while I can tell you are not." he declined politely, feeling the anxiety come off her in cold ripples.

"You've carried me for so long, it's a wonder that you've not broken. It's like you're made of... Please, sit." he obeyed then, watching her. He saw her shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath.

"The first part of a prophecy has been fulfilled, the other has yet." she whispered, and then turned to approach him to where she stood in front of him, close enough he could smell that sweet scent of vanilla coming off her skin. Her left hand rested on her chest, her fingertips touching the fine silver thread that bordered the edge of the neckline over her chest. He realized then that she was tense, perhaps even afraid. She breathed in, and raised her right hand slightly, then he tenderly took her cold hand in his, gently stroking the icy skin as it burnt against his, the warmth rising through his fingers and into his arms.

"Will you hate me, for what I'm asking?" her voice was soft, but even.

"Never. As long as I breathe, I will never hate you." he placed the smooth of her hand to his cheek, feeling the cold burning into his skin.

"Some may see it as dishonourable." she cautioned, but he smiled as he looked up at her.

"I will gladly burn – or drown, in any of the twelve hells or you, your grace." he eased as she stood for a moment, and he could almost see the many different thoughts race through her mind before she cautiously leaned forward, and touched his lips with hers, a soft tremble to the touch. After what may have been an instant of daze, she released him. Their eyes met, and he moved forward to kiss her again, the entrancing warmth seeping through to his throat. His left hand went around her waist, and the fingers on his right wove into her hair before he pulled her closer. He moved forward again, and exchanged the seat for the thick bearskin rug before drawing back from her, breathing deeply and trying to put to death the stir coursing through his body while they sat close together on the pelt, feeling the heat from the flames, and her fingers to his cheek.

"Are you sure, your grace?" he whispered, letting the fingers of his right hand glide slowly down her neck, and she smiled at him then.

"It's Claira, Falgon..." her hand slipped from his face, then she removed the pin securing his cloak to his shoulders, and it slid down his back to join the rug on the floor.

"I... I don't understand…" he tried, willing his hand to remain where it was and not glide into her hair and seize her again. Her icy nails delicately traced the line of his jaw.

"You don't have to." she whispered, and leaned forward to kiss him once more, and he surrendered to her fully once again. As they drowned in sweet, slow kisses, he removed the bracers from his wrists while her hands undid the belts to his body, then his fingers softly pulled the ribbons over the edges of her shoulders. Hers loosened the threads of his doublet to pull it over his shoulders as the dress slid off her arms, revealing her skin to the light of the fire, then he released the clasps that secured the front of his black ringmail, allowing it to slide off his shoulders. Then he removed his shirt as he rose to his knees while she looked up at him, her eyes fixed on his. Then his arms went around her waist and he pulled her up against him, allowing the dress to pass her hips and expose more of her, her hands resting against his chest and feeling the beat of his powerful heart against her cheek. He held her against him, his skin burning where she touched him, her breath warm and calming on his chest as his hands glided slowly up her back and over her shoulders, and her hands moved around his sides to his back. Fingertips gently traced the round of her breasts as they slid down her sides and over the curve of her hips, before his right hand moved around and softly traced its way up her spine while the left slid over the skin of her abdomen, her chest and up to her throat, then her face and into her hair; the sensation bringing a soft moan from her as she closed her eyes, savouring his touch. He smiled, and brought his face down to capture her lips with his, and breathed her into him, the sweet white flower scent flooding his senses to a dizzying sensation. He felt her arms relax, the burn of her fingertips going down his back to slide the edge of the leather breeches from his waist so he could discard what remained of his garbs, and then came gingerly over his hips and across the hard muscles of his abdomen to his chest and softly up over his shoulders, winding around his neck; then his grasp abruptly constricted, pressing her tightly against his powerful mass while he softly pushed his tongue into her mouth, relishing the sweetness there as she whimpered, lost in this haze of bliss. He moved forward, laying her down on the pelt covering her body with his as they kissed, the world illuminated in golden light. Their hands wandered over one another, discovering each other with gentle contact. Then his mouth left hers, and slowly traced the side of her cheek, jaw and throat until his lips lovingly caressed the right side of her neck, soft and soothing over small curved scars, drawing another subtle utterance of delight for his touch as her skin responded in reflex, her fingers resting on his neck. Then he proceeded, moving across her chest, adoring the taste of her skin as his hands still brushed lightly over her arms and sides before his lips found the tender tip of each breast, summoning a gentle gasp for air, and her fingers pressed into the skin of his neck. He ventured further, gently caressing the tiny blemishes left on her stomach from bearing the heir to Mount Ardor, and lord of the Corridor. His warm breath flowed over her in soft motions, awakening the flesh into tiny mounds as he heard her moan again, captured by his contact; and he continued on his journey, subtly wrapping his powerful arms around her legs, and teasing the skin of her hips with his fingers as he moved slowly down. A sudden sharp breath flooded the space as he found her again, like he did years ago and her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her muscles tensed and quivered, electrified by the startling sensation he brought to life, that now filled every part within her, and intensified moans sounded around them. Her left hand abandoned his shoulder, finding the fur of the pelt beneath them and gripped it tightly, the strands only just visible between white clenched fingers. He heard her call out a name… His name. The name she had given him. No harp had ever sounded so sweet; then she gasped and cried, but not of pain. Whimsy pulled at the corners of his mouth, and he knew he pleased her. Her fingernails clawed into the skin of his shoulder as he traced delicate circles, and sharp deep breaths flooded her chest. Her back arched as she cried out again, his hands softly pressing into her hips to keep her in place, while he increased the pressure applied by his tongue, exchanging the delicate circles for precise strokes. He prolonged this, feeling her shudder and her fingers strain harder against him while her cries continued; and she called to him once more desperately before she finally screamed, her body convulsing to the pleasure; and he left her, bringing his mouth up the length of her shuddering body as she urgently breathed in the air and he stopped on her chest, his lips lingering on her skin as he felt the deep rise and fall with the pounding of her heart. Her hand came to his face weakly, almost drunkenly and he slightly pulled back, allowing her a moment to reclaim herself. Then she whimpered, through a contented smile.

"Will you look at me?" she breathed, looking at him, his face still hidden from her.

"I don't... want to frighten you..." his whispered words soft and warm against her skin, and she smiled, bringing her fingers to his cheeks.

"Falgon, open your eyes." his face lowered, shadows hiding him from her; but then he rose again, slowly opening his eyes, and she stared in astonishment. Bright and burning, glowing in the shadow, his eyes were the colour of blood. His lips parted in a deep uneasy breath, and her hands cupped his face, fingers gently tracing the features, and then she smiled. It was him. It had always been him... His was the face she'd seen in the dream, the red eyes looking back from the mauve stone. The men of my house... He eased then, and returned a gentle smile as she pulled him down into yet another deep kiss, her knees softly pressed into his hips bringing him closer, and once more he yielded to her desire. His right hand went to her face again, fingers softly gliding over her cheek before weaving into her hair while their lips resumed their bountiful exchange, his left arm snaking under her shoulder to hold her before his mouth moved to her neck and shoulder yet again, and he moved forward, bringing more sharp gasps and painless cries from her chest as he entered her. His breaths matched hers as he continued to move, then suddenly slid his right hand down to her knee, and brought it up to his ribs, moving deeply and bringing himself to meet her in drunken bliss before returning to her midnight hair. Her shivering legs pressed against him desperately as her left hand went to his back, nails digging into the muscles while the fingers of her right wove into his hair; holding him against her. His mouth found hers again, endless as the ocean depths while his right hand slowly retracted from her neck and slid gently across her chest, around the curve of a full breast and up her side, the touch bringing her hand from his back as he traced a line up to her elbow, and further up to the wrist before locking his fingers with hers, and holding her there, fingers straining together as he intensified. She gasped, and cried against him, every muscle shivering uncontrollably until she smothered a contented wail into the air and he finally strained, releasing his seed into her with a sated groan while his left hand crushed the fur of the pelt beneath her. He eased, breathing deeply as the world faded away, until nothing was left but the soft crackling from the fireplace. He then carefully moved away, taking a place at her side as she breathed, a moment later she turned, resting herself against him with her hand on his chest, taking in the feel of his bare scarred skin against hers. His arm circled her, holding her securely as her body slowly settled and the trembling faded away. He wondered for an instant if he'd hurt her, but not once did she try to push him away. Then he brought his face closer to hers, resting his mouth against her brow in a loving kiss. If it was possible, he would want this for the rest of his days. To be at her side. To make her happy. To protect and provide, in whatever way she wanted him to. Then she looked up at him, a soft smile still on her features.

"You are very gentle, for your strength." she breathed, and he smiled.

"I have to be. Handling a sword is one thing. But handling a woman, that is something entirely different." he told, and she laughed softly as she lay her head against his chest, the tips of her fingers tracing the shape of the brand.

"Will your eyes return to normal?" she asked, and he nodded, but still the heat was searing through his veins.

"Yes. I just need some time to... calm down." he assured with a half chuckle of his own, and again she glanced up at him, taking in the intense red of his eyes.

"Why does that happen?" he lightly shrugged.

"I'm not sure. Intense emotions make it noticeable." he told as she stared at him, recalling that he had never for as long as she'd known him, seemed profoundly emotional.

"Intense emotions?" he drew a breath.

"Severe anger, sorrow... or love." he sighed, and still she attempted to find anything close.

"I've never seen that happen before." she decided, not being able to bring up any single memory.

"Discretion is the better part of valour. I had to learn to control it." he explained, and then she raised herself on her elbow.

"You can kill people, and your eyes don't burn red. But when you're with me, it's difficult?" she asked, but he was still smiling, his now bright eyes so much more dazzling than before.

"It's different. I never needed to control this, simply because it was never there. But, when I can love you... When I'm this free... It's easy to lose myself." he confessed, and in a moment of abrupt emotions she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly as his arm constricted around her waist. He'd been alone for so long, had been forsaken for so long, humble for so long, a prisoner of circumstances, forced and chanced, of time and spiteful fate for so long... All she wanted was to hold him, to comfort him, to be at his side. Then he slowly lay back, staring at the cap of the chamber where light and shadow still danced with each other.

"The prophecy you mentioned…" he started, and she again rested her head on him.

"'The Breath of Winter, will meld with Bright Fire and Dead Stone. When Winter comes again it is the Atronach that will stand in Flame and Snow'. The union of Frost and Flame, was me and Raeghun. Rychon's birth brought to completion the first part of the prophecy. The second part… that is you." she told, feeling his chest rise and fall in a deep breath.

"All these years, I was part of something that I had no knowledge of…" he whispered. It was something he'd never heard, had never even considered despite three centuries of questions and aimless wandering over the extent of the known world to find that answer.

"I'm sorry that this was the way you needed to discover it." she apologised, and he laughed.

"I don't mind. There was meaning to my existence. At the very least, I know now where I must be." he said, and then looked at her again.

"And your vassals will not stone me. Who are we to contend with a prophecy?" he lightly teased her, and she shared his subtle laugh.

"Often, we do not choose the paths we take; only the way we walk them. The rest of the divination is still unknown, as I will never again conceive; but we were fated to be together in the end. I know my husband will not return, and it took me this long to face it. If I must be with anyone, I want to be with you. My son will not object." she finally confessed, and he again pressed her form against his as he smirked.

"While I respect him, as the lord of Mount Ardor, I belong to you. It should not concern him what you do with – or to me." he said, then she raised herself and straddled him, her hands resting on his chest with a whimsical glint in her icy blue eyes.

"What could I possibly do to a man like you?" she teased, and he smiled back.

"Everything, your grace." His fingers gently glided up her arms, across her shoulders, over her breasts and down her abdomen, finally tracing lines down her thighs to her knees beside his hips.

"You turn and twist and bend and break me, every time you speak I shatter. When I see your eyes I freeze over, and when you voice my name I melt. Your touch is a thousand burning swords to my skin, your lips set me ablaze in fire white as the sun, a taste so sweet it suffocates me. Torture I will endure with a smile for yet another thousand years, if it meant I may love you still." he told, and she lowered herself until her elbows rested on the pelt just above his shoulders, her face barely an inch from his as his fingers returned up her legs and along her sides.

"Will the gods curse me, for loving you?" she whispered, and his hand finally found the smooth skin of her cheek as he smiled.

"No. No, I don't think so. Why, when I was denied death to be with you? I will never be Raeghun, you loved him more than anything. But I'll still be here." then she smiled back, severely thankful for him, that he was so understanding. She still loved her husband, still missed him. But she still had a heart, that could love again.

"I can accept that." she kissed him once more as his arms went around her, relishing each moment that their skin touched, this was the greatest joy he'd ever had. Then she slipped away from him, her mouth leaving a warm and tingling trail down his throat and chest, rousing the long deterred blaze through his veins and sending excited ripples through the hardened muscles. He breathed in, to try and cool those flames as she sniggered, her lips passing over the skin of his abdomen. But as she reached the base of his stomach, his hands took hold of her arms and pulled her up to meet his eyes again with a knowing grin.

"There's no way I am allowing that." he refused, and she laughed softly.

"Why? Are you afraid?" she teased him, and he shook his head.

"Because that is not your place. Your place will never be beneath my eyes." he said, feeling her fingertips softly trace their way back up his chest.

"And where is my place, then?" she challenged him, and another impish smile passed over his face as he gently pushed her up with his right hand, three fingers over her heart while his thumb and small finger rested beneath the round of her breasts.

"It's right there... In power over me..." he told, feeling her weight resting on him and the powerful sensation flooding into his senses, igniting every cell in a white embrace as she looked down at him, the brilliant red of his eyes renewed. Then his hands moved again to rest on the her thighs, and he grinned as his fingers gently pressed into the skin, only just masking the excitement.

"I've never had a woman on me..." he mentioned, and she glanced away timidly, averting her stare from his.

"I haven't done this in years. I don't want to hurt you." she cautioned, but he remained as he was.

"You are more fragile than I am." he reassured, and his name again escaped her lips as she blushed bright as a blood rose.

"I love it. It makes me feel more alive than I've ever been." she smiled then, welcoming this freedom that he gave her. Then she leaned down, pressing her lips to his as her right hand slowly wandered down, teasing the scarred flesh with a light touch to his thighs, from where she carefully guided him while she moved down, emitting a long sharp gasp as she accepted the full extent of his strength into her. His hands tensed on her thighs as she started to move, slowly as hard, heavy breaths surrounded them, and steadily her motions increased, altering her own sighs into soft impassioned whimpers. Together, they fell through the stars into the night, submerged in tides of indulgence, elation and limitless touch. Swirling and drowning in deepest want, freedom, bliss and endless guiltless passion. Then he raised himself up, his right arm winding around her back and his left hand going into her hair as he held her, smothering his breath into her neck and bringing them closer, intensifying the reach of their touch. But she moved still, in smaller, constricted movements while her arms coiled around his neck. Closer and closer still through faint cries, until she felt his pulse and a tepid utterance into her hair as his fingers strained into her back. More and more, until her voice echoed against his skin in a long, silent cry that quivered through her frame, and she finally drenched him in warm, sweet rapture. They remained like this, breathing hard as she held him, feeling him shiver against her, entirely overcome by the closeness.

"I have always thought, that my only purpose was to protect you. That if I ever let anything happen to you, I would drift away... that I would fade away into nothing... that I would simply... end." he whispered against her, and then slowly looked up at her.

"I didn't know... I didn't know, I was meant to love you." he breathed, and her arms tightened around him. It was heart-rending, that he was convicted to suffer this isolation for so many years. But, not again. Never again.

"You know it now... You know it now... My beloved knight, you know it now..." she promised in soundless whimpers, feeling his arms grow closer around her.

"Yes. I know it now..." he agreed, and then kissed her again, simply because he could. Then he moved back, resting his back against the foot of the bed and she settled on his chest while he held her, his right arm circling her and his left hand gently on her cheek and neck. They spoke softly, of many things until she drifted off to soundless sleep, but still he held her in the deep dark of cold night, feeling her softness against him, the even rise and fall of her chest, and just listening to her silent breaths that was warm against his skin, and the chatter of the flames. At some point, he thought he heard a door, and footsteps passing, but paid it little mind. Nothing else mattered, as long as his place was here. As long as he could hold her. He watched the flames of the hearth, still dancing in their brilliant dresses and casting their golden light, which reflected off her pale skin like flashes off frost in the sunlight, wondering when the last time was that she truly slept as peacefully as she seemed to now. And he remembered a woman's soft voice in song, something he had heard many times when he was asleep under the stars, particularly when he'd returned from their borders... Are you finally sleeping, sweet love? What a tender joy you are. How many wondrous dreams you'd find. Keep them all with you, and add them to the shining stars, each as glorious as you. Take my heart and hand, name them as your own, if it please. But remember me still, when you dance upon the breeze, soft and sure as dawn... those borders didn't exist any more, but here he could still give himself, all that was left of him. She jerked suddenly, her hand reaching up to his shoulder as she called for him, startled by something in a dream. But his arms tightened, reassuring her of his presence.

"I'm here. I'm right here." he soothed her, and her cheek gently pressed into the skin of his chest.

"Is this real? Am I dreaming?" she whispered, and his thumb gently stroked her cheek.

"This is real. Rychon is here, Milla and Berin are here, all the children are here... And I am here, with you." he promised, and he felt her nudge slightly closer, seeking of his touch.

"How could you tell?" she breathed, and he smirked.

"Because I don't sleep." he hadn't slept since that red dawn. He tried, it just never came again. Physical exertion wore on him, but resting never included the chance to dream. And so, he spent his nights reading, learning and bettering himself. Food, wasn't a necessity. He could eat, and drink. But didn't need to, having once made him a peak of interest in his time through the Red and Grey Wastes in Essos. Perhaps in the end, his acceptance of sustenance was merely to uphold a sense of normality in a world that no longer applied to him. And apparently, dying had stopped his ageing completely. He hadn't changed since then, either. For this he could never remain in any single place for more than a couple of years... But here, he didn't need to hide. He didn't need to pretend.

"You don't, but I do." he heard her against him, and then softly guided her face up and brought his own closer, closing his mouth on hers in a long, deep, tender kiss. A touch that stretched through them like living vines into their depths.

"Does this feel like dreaming to you?" he breathed against her skin as the contact broke, and then she looked at him. Her eyes were hazed and sleepy, but she smiled.

"I love you." it spread through him with a warmth and fury that wildfire itself could never have, and he held her, cradling her against his body.

"I had to wait over three hundred years to hear those words, from The Breath of Winter..."

Rychon woke to another white morning, fortunately in a much better manner than the day before. The dragon in his core had settled down, and did not wake again. He looked up at the canopy of the bed, taking an easy breath. He spent the evening with Bella at the table in the Hollow, mostly talking. Sharing hopes and dreams for the future. Mention was made that Samantha and Hunter had grown closer since the incident in the village, and he felt happy for that. Although, her father might not look kindly to that since his daughter was a lady, and Hunter was a lower born son of a hunter. Hence his name. Their family had a long lineage of hunters for the past six hundred years, and both his older brothers, Bear and Buck, had gone down that road like their forebears. Beatrice was still and all as bubbly as before, and although her affections had gone unreturned, was happy for Bella that she'd found her place in their young liege's heart. Berterin and sweet Stephanie's romance continued, and they'd even been seen sharing a fleeting kiss one afternoon, and Ormont of Highpoint was accepted into their guard count as a sentry for their grounds. Her companions had heard of their Battle Master's imprisonment, but because of her fervent argument against his guilt, as yet had not yielded to the belief that he was at fault, for which he was quite thankful, for whatever that was worth. There was growth and hope, but he had much to answer for, and would find some way to do that. Later, they went down to the kitchens to claim a belated supper before a walk in the garden amidst the white flakes, and then he escorted her to her chambers where he kissed her, and bid her good night. Then he came back to the lord's wing, surrendering himself to bed where he lay for a long while, mulling over their days before sleep took him. They still hadn't received word from the others, although with the time that has passed, that should happen soon. But somehow, before that came to him, he had to try to make things right with his family. Then he rose himself from the bed and made his way to the dresser to claim fresh clothing before heading down to the bath chamber, pausing for an instant as he passed the door to his mother's chamber. I wonder if he's still with her... but discarding that custom to check on her in the mornings he continued down and cleansed himself in the warm vanilla scented waters. He stood in the heat, feeling the spill of water over his shoulders and back, trying to choose his words. He left the bath, drying and dressing himself in light woollen breeches, a white long sleeved tunic, a warm belted leather doublet and fine boots when he thought he heard something. Then he departed the bath chamber to find her coming back to the divan from the door, dressed in her blue and pearl robe, her hair hanging down the length of her back in marbled waves. Her protector had left, and she chose to stay.

"Mother..." she looked at him, a brightness in her blue eyes and a soft smile on her features.

"Good morning, Rychon." she acknowledged him, and he came carefully closer as he studied her. She seemed happier, but he'd still wounded her.

"I... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... For everything..." he breathed as he stood in front of her, feeling that same ache to his own heart, wondering how he could ever amend his actions.

"It's al right..." she consoled him as she took his hands, and he brought them up to rest the cool skin of her fingers against his cheeks.

"I was trying to protect you... I thought I was doing the right thing... And, I ended up hurting you beyond measure..." he tried to explain, but she gently slipped her hands from his and wound her arms around his waist, holding him tightly as his arms circled her.

"Oh, my sweet boy. I know. It's al right." she comforted him again, and his arms gently pressed her tighter against him.

"You are free to come and go as you please... But, I would be grateful if you chose not to leave this country." he tried to joke, and to his gratitude, it made her laugh.

"Thank you." then he drew back, smiling down at her.

"Has maester Adlyn told you?" he asked softly, and she nodded.

"He did. He told me that Falgon is the last surviving member of the Stoneholders." she repeated, and he glanced away for an instant.

"He is more than that." he added, and she watched him before he brought her to the divan where they sat down together.

"His birth name is Aetes. He was their king." he shared, telling her all that he could as she stared at him. Her expression never changed, but in her eyes he saw the amazement.

"His people, and all memory of them was destroyed during the Conquest. But, fate brought him back, because he had a purpose. He's spent three hundred years, looking for you." he explained, and she looked away from him then, blandly staring at the flames of the hearth for a long moment before her hands covered her mouth, and she laughed happily.

"So, that was why... That's why... All of this time..." she breathed, and he nodded. She didn't seem shocked at all, like she knew all along. But, maybe they all did, to some small degree.

"He is yours. I will never try to dispute that again." he promised, and she embraced him again. Then he stood.

"Will you join us?" he asked, and she nodded.

"I will. After I've tended to myself." she agreed as she indicated her robe.

"Shall I wait for you?" then she stood.

"That's not necessary." she declined, and then he gently squeezed her fingers.

"Al right. We'll meet in the feast hall, then." he greeted, and left the lord's wing, meeting Milla on her way up, also sharing a fond greeting. She too, seemed more cheerful; and he shared that his mother will be returning to her routines in and around their grounds before continuing on his way. He tended to sparring with swords against Jaysen, besting the sentinel after several bouts while Berin watched, giving his advices. Then followed Berterin against Michalis, and Berin himself against Renko, overwhelming his younger opponent easily with smooth, exact strikes. The other sentinels assumed their own sparring with fists, down in a different part of the bailey while the guards continued on their own under watch of stern Quin, the master-at-arms who did not have such a gentle hand as ser Austinus, but saw as much success. Practice was followed by their morning meal in the southern hall, where every life was once again connected, and the lady of their hold joined them, dressed in elegant honey gold seated next to her son, and family around them. Falgon was present, but did not share their seats, and assumed his place next to the hearth as was his norm, just watching and listening. But through it all, Rychon sat and listened, and amidst the happy voices of his family and others could make out the harsher voices as well. While most welcomed the Battle Master back, others scowled at him as he passed them with little thought, and he grimaced as the same thought flashed through his mind. The traitor who was released, because he is favoured... The hall was finally cleared, and all returned to their routines while the tall sentinel shadowed the ladies, completely disregarding the passing scorns and jeers while Rychon lingered back, watching them. This could not continue...

"How do I make this right?" he breathed miserably, but then felt a hand to his shoulder.

"Apologise to him." it was Berin, with a reassuring smile, but he still felt defeated. Then he turned towards him.

"Everyone in the hold has heard by now, I can't explain to each of them..." then he paused, recalling a dark night in Pale Haven's library. If you do something, you do it properly, or not at all... uncle Rhegard had said. And then he looked at them making their way up the steps as the words that were said by a proud lord in Winterfell's great stone hall came back to him. A man can only admit when he was wrong, and ask forgiveness...

"Summon everyone to the hall. Now." he suddenly said returning his attention to the man beside him, and Berin appeared stunned for half an instant.

"Everyone?" and Rychon glanced down.

"Everyone." he agreed with a sigh.

"Please." then Berin nodded, and moved away, relaying the instructions as he went. Just more than an hour passed before he stood in front of the throne with Berin at his left side and the ladies just a few feet behind him alongside maesters Adlyn and Gerdwyle, facing every wondering stare looking back at him from the packed hall, and the tall warrior at the base of the steps once again. He took a deep breath, stifling the pound of his heart, and then met the eyes looking at him.

"Ser Falgon of the Fire Hall, Battle Master of the Corridor." the hall fell silent as snow falls on the earth, so still that you could hear the footsteps of a kitchen mouse through the halls as everyone watched him, waiting for his decree. How do I make this right..?

"I have called everyone together, to address an issue. My family, my line has existed for many thousands of years, and there are many that will tell of our greatness. However, we may be powerful. We may be proud. But, we are not without faults." he started, and took another subtle breath to steady himself.

"I have accused you, of a terrible crime. A crime, that your honour and loyalty will never allow." he continued, and then looked down.

"Here before every witness, I withdraw my accusation and confess that I was wrong. I admit that I was envious, that you were the one that stood at my mother's side, in her days of grief and need. That you were the man she turned to for strength and courage." he said, and then secretly smiled as he felt that weight lift away from him, and returned his eyes to those of the Stone king, knowing that they were both free again.

"You are in all but name, a lord of the burning mountain. And here in front of everyone, I beg your forgiveness." he stated, loudly. He could hear the hushed voices, a gasp or two. But the Battle Master's eyes were calm and gentle above a soft smile.

"There is nothing to forgive, sire." he replied warmly, and the relief that washed over him brought forth the smile he'd been trying to hide.

"You will henceforth hold your vigil in the lord's hall, where your strength and skill will best serve my family." he told, thus trusting that his continued presence in the lord's wing will proceed to remain unheeded as it mostly was before, and the king again bowed formally to him.

"It will be as you bid, sire." he accepted, and Rychon's eyes went over the other faces of the hall.

"Let this be spread, so that the pride and trueness of our Battle Master, will never again be questioned. You are free to go." he decreed, and watched as people started to leave the hall, already lighter and happier voices among them while Falgon made his way back up the steps to resume his place at the side of his smiling queen. But as he passed the young lord, the youngster's hand took hold of his arm, latching onto a thought and he looked up at him.

"One more thing, ser. Would you meet me in the Hollow?" he asked, and Falgon nodded.

"As you wish, sire." he agreed, and started to move away as Rychon watched him. This was the last thing he could do, the last thing he could give them. Then he again felt a hand on his shoulder, comforting and proud.

"That was a very honourable thing you did, Rychon." Berin praised, and Rychon smiled at him.

"Thank you, my lord. Is it too late, to beg your forgiveness as well, for the wrong I've done to you and your family?" he asked, recalling he'd never taken hold of that chance like he wanted to, but Berin laughed softly.

"I've forgiven you a long time ago. It was self-pity that made me hold on to my ill humour. If you'd permit me this truth, I have always wanted you for my daughter. I could not imagine anyone else... It was just that, the circumstances did not turn out to be how I wished. I would have preferred that you married her first." he confessed, and Rychon could feel yet another strain leave him as he breathed out.

"Thank you, uncle. I will announce that Bella is my betrothed, I just want to wait until the war passes before the wedding. That must be a happy day." he assured, and then his attention went back to the arch where their ladies and Falgon had vanished just a moment ago.

"I have another idea, though. But, I might need maester Adlyn, and your help." he hinted, and the sentinel agreed with an inquisitive glint in his eyes as they started forward towards the stronghold's great counsel chamber where as requested, Falgon waited in the Hollow, yet again examining the vivid colours of the tapestry on the wall, how the brightly coloured feathers of the great phoenix seemed to weave in and out of each other in its flight as it seized its prey. What the young liege had done, had surprised him, and while he was grateful to him, he didn't deem in necessary. There was no need to humble himself in front of a former sell sword. He'd heard the others in their spite, but wasn't bothered. Not really. Even if they knew the truth, they would never fully understand, and so he couldn't care for their thoughts. As long as he could stay where he was... Then he heard footsteps, and voices in the passage outside, and turned to meet the lord of Mount Ardor, the Head of their Sentinel Order, and The Healer as they stepped inside before closing the door behind them.

"Falgon, may we speak with you?" Rychon asked, and he smiled. That's why you called me here, is it not?

"You may, sire." he allowed, watching attentively as they joined him in front of the depiction hanging from the stones.

"I've given some thought, to our circumstances. Would you mind, if I made a suggestion?" Rychon continued, and he wondered for a moment. This did not sound like the lord giving an order.

"No, sire. I would not mind." he again relented, and watched curiously as the three men shared glances between them, wondering why they seemed excited. Then Rychon looked back at him with a sigh, and a sure smile.

"Given our current state; and you being who you are, you reserve a right to marry my mother." he suddenly said, and for a moment the air in his chest froze as he stared at them. But if he had the mind to make this proposal in their presence, then they knew. They knew all of it. Then he smirked, and laughed heartily while they exchanged more glances. What a notion that was, indeed.

"That is a bold suggestion, sire. One I thank you for." he agreed, but then sighed.

"But your mother has on multiple occasions given her opinion, quite fabulously on marriage proposals. She is a Taugere, and will never take the name of another." he declined, and old maester Adlyn shuffled cautiously forward.

"There might be no need to. Under some valid conditions, you may have the option of taking her name instead." he mentioned.

"Valid conditions?" Falgon asked quite curious, and Adlyn glanced at Rychon next to him, who discreetly nodded.

"The current absence of your own name." he indicated, and Falgon breathed out. What a notion, indeed.

"I see. Kind as your gestures are, I will not take the name of fire, when my blood is that of stone. And while my name has no place in this world, I still remember it. Only you who are in this room, know who I was. I want to keep it as such." he said as he looked down. It was a charming thought, to be honest. But, he could not ask that of her. Then Berin stepped forward, to add his voice.

"No one needs to know the extent of your origin. Some bloodlines have survived despite their odds." he continued to try and persuade him, and then took hold of his shoulder.

"She loves you, Falgon." he told, and the Stone king nodded.

"I know. And I love her, more than anything. That's why I will not expect her to change any more than what she's been forced to already. I am content, simply to be at her side." he sighed, and they acceded, seeming to finally accept his decision. Then Rychon looked at the others through a heavy sigh.

"Leave us." he told, and they departed the Hollow closing the door again. They might have accepted it, but he won't simply let it go. Then his attention went back to their Battle Master, burning in the light.

"Falgon. You have been the closest person to a father that I've had since... since my own was taken from us. No one will force you, or her; that much is true. And I know I have done things that you may never forgive me for." he continued, but Falgon granted him a reassuring nod.

"As I've said before, there is nothing to forgive, sire. What you did, you did because you believed it to be the right thing to do. You did it to protect your family, and your honour, like any man would." he consoled him, and to his relief he did seem to accept that.

"Still. I would be greatly honoured, if you would consider taking up my father's position, albeit only within our own family." he persisted, and for a long moment Falgon only stared at him, trying to feel his heart. Even if I begged her, she won't accept me...

"Will you think on it, at least?" Rychon urged a final time, and he nodded slowly through a defeated sigh. He could do that, at best. To think on it.

"For your request, I will. But it might not alter the outcome." he agreed, then they both departed the counsel chamber to resume their day, which followed as any other while still waiting for word from their allies. But as long as the ravens were silent, they embraced what they had. That evening, after the hold fell into their silence for sleep, he entered the lord's hall to take his vigil as ordered, when once again she called to him, and he answered. Standing at the edge of the bear pelt, he regarded her.

"You summoned me, your grace?" She was seated on the foot of the bed, dressed in a soft gown of sweet honey gold that complimented her fair ivory skin so well, her knees crossed over comfortably and a chalice of sweet deep red in her right hand.

"I did." she affirmed, and he smirked.

"Then, I am at your service." He knew exactly why she called for him, that is why he left Summit next to the hearth in the lord's hall, as the night before.

"Do I need to persuade you?" she asked as she brought the chalice to her lips.

"No, your grace. You need only to tell me, what to do." he softly laughed, waiting for her orders.

"Remove your garments." He smiled, accepting his command easily.

"Yes, my queen." She watched quietly as his hands moved nimbly, slipping the flame pin from his cloak before it dropped to the floor, and he discarded the pin to join the brown fabric silently. Then the bracers, the belts, and then the doublet, then the mail, then the simple tunic... all methodically slowly, like he was teasing her in his own small way. But she stayed her words, exchanging them for the strong taste on her tongue until he stood completely bare before her, and she took him in anew. Like she was truly seeing him for the first time. The soft, smooth hair that hung just past his shoulders, dark brown like the earth. His rich bronze skin, scarred by harsh training and countless battles that formed him into the warrior he was. The broad shoulders that she soaked with tears so many times. His powerful chest with the intricate brand where she felt comfort. The strong arms that protected her, her family and their country. Every shadow that accentuated his defined muscles. And his dark, bewitching eyes watching her from a regal, handsome face. He was taller than Raeghun, by more than a foot. And only just stronger. Then she stood and approached him, leaving the chalice forgotten on the wood post of the bed as she stared up at him; still he waited patiently.

"Remove mine." he remained smiling at her, and nodded.

"Yes, my queen." his hands moved again, loosening the coil that held the fabric securely; deliberately slowly as he pulled each of the threads through the eyelets of the dress, each individually, until her body shuddered with urge; but she attempted to mirror his calmness and simply stood, breathing until the gold slid from her shoulders and dropped to the floor by her feet, and his hands came away from her. He watched her, waiting for more.

"Kiss me." she told him, barely hiding her eagerness, and still with his easy smile he leaned down.

"With pleasure, my queen." His hands gently cupped her face as he brought his lips to hers, softly at first and then deeper as the tips of his thumbs tenderly glided over the edges of her jaw, softly back over her ears and into her hair as she melted for him, the touch spreading through her like screaming echoes. It was good, to feel this again. To surrender her heart to a man's love. And her sentinel, her knight, her Falgon, was kind and gentle. But no man, no matter how righteous was free from lust. And how deep his love was, so was his passion. But despite his tenderness, there was a ruggedness to him, something old and fierce and wild... Something pure, and utterly desirable. And he was hers. All these years, he'd been hers. And he would be hers still, for as long as time willed it. She pulled back for a gasp.

"You didn't tell me to stop." he questioned, and she blushed.

"I couldn't." she breathed, and he softly chuckled as he again brought her gently closer.

"Good." once more he submerged her in a warm, fervent kiss as she surrendered to him, a moment later feeling the soft pelt beneath her as his mouth again wandered down the length of her body. But as his warm lips crossed over her low abdomen, she pulled him up, stifling the tremor in her muscles.

"Don't do that again." she told, and his eyes met hers.

"Why?" she smiled at him, the quivers rippling throughout her body.

"Because, Falgon; I'll tear your head from your shoulders." she breathed as her fingers wove into his thick hair, but he returned her smile with an impish glint behind his already reddening eyes.

"Oh, you could try, Claira. I'll finish you before that, though." he whispered, lowering himself to etch more hungry kisses to her skin, and she turned away to allow more of his touch as she breathed in, and sniggered.

"You're stubborn." she teased him, and then more felt his voice against her neck than hearing it.

"So are you." she stared at the flames, the white and gold that thrived side-by-side.

"I didn't used to be..." she sighed, remembering how she used to be. Meek, submissive, timid...

"Time changes people. You became strong." he said, running his fingers down her cheek and bringing her eyes back to his.

"One thing that hasn't changed, is you. You're still the same, after all these years." she said, thankful for his everlasting tranquillity. But, he sighed, motionless for half a heartbeat.

"I have changed. I've changed a lot." he told, and she laughed softly again.

"You're going to tell me that you used to be this mad, wild thing?" she teased him again, and he shared her laugh.

"Yes, yes I was. But I had to learn to control it. Time, teaches you a patience that no one is born with." he added, and softly kissed her shoulder again before moving up.

"I was arrogant. I was vain. I was proud. My accomplishments, however great or dire, was carried with esteem. I looked down on those who did not earn my respect, simply because I could. And then I learnt that not even my noblest title could save my people..." he recalled, but then her arms went around him again, and she held him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what happened to you." she said, feeling his mouth move against her skin, etching more kisses to her down her neck.

"It doesn't matter any more. You've found me." she surrendered to him, relenting to the sharp gasps and soft, tense whimpers sounding in the air around them as the king again feasted on winter fruit, only returning his sated lips up the length of her shuddering body after her fingers meshed into his thick hair, and her breathless cry called his name. He allowed her a moment to reclaim herself as his mouth rested on her chest, feeling the frantic beating. But then her fingers snaked around his neck and pulled him closer into a fervent kiss as her knees pressed into his hips, and he responded to her, moving forward and sheathing his great sword with a pleasant moan in the light of the fire. He made long and intended love to her as night deepened, and only felt himself tense after she clutched on to his low back, drowning a fulfilled scream into his neck a third time. He pulsed, and then slowly eased, sounding soft breaths into the curve of her shoulder as her quivering fingers dragged their way up to his shoulders from his hips, breathless but appeased. He kissed her again, then took his place at her side as she turned, resting herself against his chest where her fingertips again traced the form of the brand, and his ran tenderly along the length of her back in soothing strokes. For a long while they stayed like this, close together in the silence of night, taking in one another's presence and love. If I could... I would want to stay like this... he watched her, the golden light of the flames cascading off her marbled hair in magical reflection. He was meant to do this, and it made him happier than he'd been in hundreds of years. But, would fate curse him again, for one final wish? Then she looked up at him, sleep drawing heavily on her clear eyes.

"Tell me more, about your people?" she asked, and he nodded, turning to assume a more comfortable position next to her with his left arm above her and the fingers of his right continuing to tease the delicate skin of her arm while she rested on the thick fur by his side.

"In the beginning, we strived for peace and unanimity with other nations when we were not under threat. But, our seclusion from the world, came after 'The Slaughter of Graveltop'; when an entire village was razed by the Westerlanders, and prince Dowryn closed our borders to strangers, and with it much of our hearts. Outsiders were killed on sight, it didn't matter who they were, and so others would come to avoid our borders." he started, sharing the forsaken world that was once his home.

"The silver eclipse was a great feast, celebrated by our people each year, it was meant to be something wonderful, something that bound our people together for the betterment of all. But, in time it changed to something terrible. A week for joy and growth became a week of carnal lust and rage and bloodshed." it changed, into something it was not meant to be. Centuries of isolation, had changed everything, and everyone.

"It was with one of these, that our people were eradicated. Everything was destroyed, there was not a wall left standing... Aegon Targaryen came here with the intent to claim this continent and rule as its undisputed sovereign, crushing any who opposed. My people were some of the first, and we met him with a solid resistance. This vexed him, of course. To the Targaryens, there were only two choices: Serve or die. To us, there were only two choices: Live free, or die. There was never a middle ground..." he told, and then she turned slightly to look at him.

"Did you ever find him again? Aegon?" she asked, and he glanced away.

"I did. Many years later." he smiled. For all his suffering, that was a kind memory.

"He was sitting on a stone in the field, listening to the farmers. Contemplating how they could work on betterment for all... He might have recognised me, I don't know. I didn't stay to find out. That was when I headed east. Then, my search for vengeance, became a search for purpose." he explained, and felt her nudge slightly closer.

"Aegon the Conqueror wasn't cruel, or at least I'd like to think he wasn't. He was just determined." he breathed, and felt her hand to his chest.

"That is a very gentle way of seeing it, my Falgon. He destroyed everything you cared about, and you forgave him." she said, and he held her for a moment in silence.

"What would vengeance have brought me? I could have killed him. I could have killed his entire family, all of his kin, all who served him, all who knew him... I could have ended life in Westeros entirely, and what would it have brought me?" then he pulled back.

"If I gave myself to seeking out revenge, nothing would have ever brought me here. To you." she smiled, then softly took his face in her palms and kissed him, so tenderly as if still trying to ease that hurt. It didn't hurt any more. This was a better way to spend his days. Then he gently ran his fingers through her hair, and she let her head down on her arm.

"How about animals? Did you have any pets?" she asked, and he chuckled.

"We had a few farmers, and much of the same as anyone else. Horses, cattle, goats, sheep, pigs, geese, chickens..." he glanced away for a small moment with a sigh.

"But, we had something that no one else in the world did." then he looked back at her with a soft smile.

"An endeavour started by prince Dowryn's son. Many years of refinement among different breeds gave us War Hounds, but they weren't pets. They were very difficult to work with because they were bred for war, like we were. They were great, powerful and fierce animals, almost as big as a small ox that would give their lives simply so they could protect yours. But they were rare, we might only have had two hundred dogs in the end." he gently let his fingers glide over her arm.

"They were your eyes in a fight, your back in a battle. Aside from our own families, they were the most valuable entities we had, and were always taken well care of. A single War Hound would be worth a hundred thousand gold pieces if you could find a man brave, or stupid enough to try and buy one." he told, recalling his red best friend who'd tried so hard.

"They sound marvellous." Claira breathed, and he nodded.

"They were. There was the king's golden Glory, my brothers Hale's pale Freedom, and Draune's dark Justice, and the girls's black Hero. Several others that have bonded with experienced warriors, and my own red Dusk." he brought them back, for just that instant. They had all, tried so hard. But, their line ended with his own... Then he lowered himself to gently place a kiss to her neck.

"I've kept you awake long enough, your grace. Try to sleep." he encouraged, and a last time she settled down at his side, allowing the still dark to take her away into a dream while he stayed with her, keeping watch over her through the lonely night while thoughts and memories came and went. And the suggestion, refused to fade away, making its presence vividly known many, many times.

The Trentins made their way through the passage from the east wing, accompanied by the little companions all dressed in blushing colours to start their day. The young ladies spoke happily of how they planned to begin preparations in the southern hall while the court maiden would report to the lady of their hold, and the sentinels were to attend inspections and training on the grounds of the barracks. They entered the great hall of the keep, where servants and guards were going about their business and the young lord himself stood watching over the vast expanse from the stone balustrade lining the third level of the keep. They greeted him, and he turned to face them, returning their gestures happily.

"Any news?" Berterin asked, and Rychon shook his head.

"Nothing, yet. I admit that the delay is worrisome, but while we have it, we'd use the time to our benefit to fortify our means." he said, taking that every day they had to themselves was another day spent on bettering their equipment, training and resources.

"Is your mother awake?" Milla asked, and he glanced at the arch.

"Yes, she's waiting for you." he replied, and she nodded before looking at the girls.

"Go on, we'll meet you in the hall." she told, and they curtsied politely as they moved away. Then she and Bella started up to the lord's wing to attend their lady, already softly discussing their visions of her apparel today while Berin looked at his son.

"And you as well, make sure everyone has their instructions." he told, and Berterin bowed his head before starting away towards the stairs to head down.

"Anything from Vaellion?" Rychon asked, and Berin shook his head.

"Not for a fortnight now, but we should receive his report again within a few days. His sentries are continuing to keep watch of the southern border." he said, recalling that the longest they'd gone without word from him was an entire month. Business in attendance of Gedro, their castellan, would keep him quite busy. But all accounts stated that it was going well with growing cattle herds, and their people were becoming more resilient than what had been there before under Vega, who'd spent his time and coin on self-indulgence rather than the maintenance and performance of the castle, and those in it. And with eyes on those lands, spotting the Lannister army would be easier. Then their attention went to the tall figure ascending the steps, on his way back to his post, his hair hanging damp in dark strands following his own morning routine. Berin greeted him, and he stopped to join them, returning the kindness.

"How was your evening?" he enquired with a shrewd grin.

"It was good, thank you for your concern." Falgon returned modestly, and Rychon shared the hint.

"Your vigils in our hall are doing well for my mother." he added, and Falgon smiled.

"She is more at peace now than she has been for a while, I am thankful to say." he returned, answered by a knowing chuckle.

"Did you think about my suggestion?" Rychon asked softly, watching the dark eyes glance down for just an instant.

"I did." he answered, and Berin moved an inch closer.

"And?" he pried slightly, watching the Stoneholder breathe in a moment of silence.

"I... I will ask her. But, in my own way. In our way. Gone from everyone else." he agreed, and Rychon smiled, feeling a happy warmth rise through his chest. She could be happy again, with him.

"I see. Do you have the means?" he asked, and the king nodded slowly.

"Where?" he asked, but Falgon shrugged.

"I don't know, yet." he confessed, and Berin glanced at the great doors, leading outside.

"You could always show her the training grounds. She hasn't gone riding in days." he suggested. That was one of their nearby areas that was near to completely isolated, as only a handful of people were aware of it, and the dark eyes met his, seeming to think on that.

"I might do that." then his attention went back to the young lord.

"With your permission, sire. I should return to my post." he said, and Rychon nodded.

"Of course. Go." he allowed, watching as the great man vanished like a shadow up the incline to retake his place.

"And we, should return to sparring." Berin mentioned, and Rychon laughed.

"Lead the way, uncle." together they took the way to the inner bailey of the barracks where they tested themselves against their fellow members, bettering themselves in any way they could for the looming battles to come while Bella pulled a warm wide sleeved dress of aqua blue velvet with a lighter blue centre piece, gold hemlines and a royal blue ribbon fastening the back from Claira's wardrobe, and Milla chose a sapphire and pearl girdle, with flat, light grey slippers to go with it. They spoke softly as they helped their lady dress and brush her hair in preparation for the day, sharing their hopes and plans. It was expected to be a clear day with blue skies and winter sunlight. Some time later, they joined the rest of the lives of the castle, first visiting Jeody in his kitchen where they discussed their morning serving of warm cheese and bacon pastries with boiled eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, honeyed oatmeal with goat milk and fresh fruit alongside tea before proceeding on the southern hall where the tables were set with silver and ivory, red roses and white lilies adorning the centres of the tables. They broke their fast with light conversation, and several predictions on the future. Beatrice even wondered if the ravens from the north would arrive at all, given the current silence. Indeed, it did feel like an eternity, but it wasn't that long. They would come, and they needed to be ready for it. Leaving the hall, Rychon subtly guided his mother aside.

"You haven't gone riding for a while." he hinted, and she smiled.

"I'd love to, of course. But I'm afraid the others find the cold a bit annoying." she breathed, secretly admitting that she did yearn for that. Then Rychon glanced at the shadow behind her.

"Take this morning, there's nothing that requires your immediate attention. Even if it's just you, Falgon would watch over you, of course." he hinted, and she could not deny that her heart grasped for this opportunity.

"Rychon, I'd really like that..." she said softly, and he took her hands.

"You're not a prisoner, you have your own freedom." he encouraged, and she laughed softly.

"Thank you." then she looked at Milla and Bella, in hushed discussion with Berin just a few feet off, the other youngsters already on their way up into the castle.

"Milla." she looked up, giving Claira her attention.

"Would you like to join me?" she asked, and Milla glanced back at Berin for an instant before returning a shy smile.

"Oh, not this morning, my lady. We have something to tend to. But, please go and enjoy it, we'll be waiting for you when you get back." she declined, and Claira nodded. Then she looked up at the man at her side, relishing his soft and comforting smile.

"With your permission then, your grace. I will have the steeds prepared." he offered, and she turned towards him.

"Yes please, ser." he bowed his head, and then made his way outside to give the order, and she found herself excited. Inside the walls of the burning mountain was her home, where it was always warm. But exchanging them for the openness of the fields was a drawing thought, and she would crave that from time to time, the unrestraint of the vast empty spaces. They made their way outside, waiting as Brazier and Rage was led out, groomed and saddled. Then as they mounted, Rychon glanced at Falgon.

"Take your time, but try to be back before sundown." he hinted, and Falgon nodded before looking at Claira.

"At your leisure, your grace." he said, and she led the way out under the gatehouse, over the bridge and into the world with him following close behind. Rychon watched as they left, no longer hiding the smile. She has already accepted you... Then their master of horse took a space beside him.

"Shouldn't more guards go with them?" ser Tursten asked, and Rychon looked at him.

"He is enough to protect her, even if it's against the entire world." he assured, and then returned inside while the horses moved over the fields, and Claira immersed herself in the state. Her Brazier, at three and twenty years, wasn't as fast as he once was, but still a wonderful mount. They followed the road until well past Garde's Post, sharing small discussions while meeting and greeting their countrymen as they passed, all waving and smiling as they went by and white clouds drifted aimlessly in the cool blue sky. They crossed a wide field, and took a smaller trail back towards the keep when he glanced up at the sky.

"Would you care to see the training grounds, your grace?" he asked, and she smiled.

"I would like that." she agreed, recalling her son's many accounts of what he did there, and truth be told she had always been curious. He then led her off the road and into the woodland, weaving through the trees as dry leaves and twigs crumbled and snapped under the weight of the horses. A gentle breeze blew through the woodland, cool and thick with the smells of nature. But with a bright sun, it wasn't at all as cold as some would expect. A deer passed them, casting them a curious glance before darting away into the shadows. A while later they entered into the vast field where the labyrinth lay waiting for further attention. She examined the area, taken in by the wonder of it.

"I'm afraid it doesn't look like it must, with all that has passed the last few months, it's been left neglected." he pardoned as he dismounted, then left Rage to graze on the long grass while he offered his arms to help her down from her horse.

"This is how you trained?" she asked, and he nodded as he gently set her down on the ground.

"Me, my brothers, my father, his father, for as long back as anyone could remember. And then I passed those same ways to lord Berin, and your son. We had only one rule, and that was to always move forward." he explained as she stared at the field, walking forward at his side to take in all the intricacy of the grounds. It looked hard.

"Always forward..." she repeated, she'd heard that same phrase many, many times.

"We were never allowed to move back. Moving back in battle means weakness, and ultimately defeat. My father was quite specific on that." he added.

"It must have been a tremendous challenge." she breathed, and he softly chuckled.

"I was very young when I started, so it wasn't difficult when it was something I was accustomed to my whole life. Others found it more demanding." he told, and she thought of her son. He was five when Falgon took him out for the first time, and near to every day since then.

"I never thought..." she whispered, but then felt his hand on her back.

"I mostly let Rychon play in and around the labyrinth the first few months, to conform to his surroundings. He learnt very quickly." he assured, and she felt comfort in that. That he did not start with harshness.

"My father met my mother, in a place much like this." he continued, moving away from her. The king used to try teaching his brother, who unfortunately did not inherit their gifts for warfare, and she would sometimes watch them from afar. But with no potential as a warrior, the training was abandoned and then he saw her. From there, their love and life thrived... Then he took the sword from its place, and drove it into the ground, looking at the face.

"Two years later, he begged her hand in marriage before the face of the Stone god." he told, and then looked at her, watching him. Then he turned to face her, holding his hand out to her and she came to him, laying her fingers in his as she looked at the sword standing in the earth.

"This face?" she asked, truly intrigued, and he nodded.

"Our deity wasn't represented humanly like the ones you know. It was a Chimaera, consisting of different creatures, all with their significance. The lion for pride and courage, the horse for endurance and freedom. The bull for strength and resolve, the panther for loyalty and sovereignty, a crystal in its heart was the light for truth... And of course the dragon. Dragons represent all things great." he explained as he led her in a circle around the blade, her blue eyes taking each detail with a new sense. The long face, the sharp teeth, the horns, the mane, and the deep fearsome eyes as she stood in front of it. She'd seen this same face daily for years, but she'd seen it somewhere else as well. When she was lost and alone and afraid in a darkness deeper than any known night, this was the face that had saved her, yet again. Then he stepped away from her, circling the sword one more time. Traditionally, one's heart would be presented to the person you loved, symbolized by a small white stone. But there were no such pebbles here, only earth brown or granite grey. But, there was something else. Not a stone, but of the earth still.

"All things of importance were done in his sight to acknowledge the truth of it, so we may receive his blessing and protection. We declared war in his sight, and we celebrated victories in his sight. Children were presented to our people before him, and with burials our warriors were honoured before him. The face on Summit, was the face of the Stone god." he added as he pulled an old rag from the pouch at his belt, and brought from it a tiny, powder blue pearl. This was the most precious possession he had, a gift from a Yi Ti princess, visiting Volantis when they were hired as guards one hundred and seventy years ago. He couldn't recall her name now, but she was twelve at the time, and lame, so her parents had brought her to the city in search of a cure. She favoured him, and he was often seen carrying the small girl up and down the halls of the manse they stayed in. She had called him "Qia", which apparently was their word for "Strong". If they ever found a cure, he didn't know. She was still unable to stand when they left the city... He looked down at Claira's blue eyes, staring at him attentively. Then he ignored the pounding of his heart pulsing through every vein, and smiled as he lowered to his knees and drew a breath. He hadn't paid any mind to tradition for so long, hadn't believed in the unseen since everything was taken from him. But now... He presented the pearl to her, and she slowly took it, staring at the small perfectly round sphere, examining the flawless, smooth blue surface, obviously wondering what madness had befallen him. Then he looked down at the grass with his hands in front of him, feeling the beat of his heart course through his body. If she did not understand, he would not have to suffer the disgrace if she rejected him, knowing that she had once vowed never to wed again. A long silent moment followed, and then he felt her fingers gentle on his cheeks as she brought his face up, then leaned forward and placed her lips to his in a sweet, lingering kiss before drawing back and smiling.

"Yes." he stared at her in wonder, unsure of what he heard, unsure if he dared believe what his mind willed the whisper in the wind to mean.

"Yes?" it had to be dream. A fantasy created by the rush through the trees, but she laughed softly, her eyes bright and happy.

"Yes, Falgon. I will marry you." she repeated, and his thundering heart leapt. His arms coiled around her and lifted her into the sky, his cheek against her chest as hers wrapped around his neck resting her mouth against his dark hair, and they both laughed happily. This was his last wish, something long lost, and now these many centuries later allowed by whatever godly whim... Feeling the dizzying rush of emotions recede he sat down on the stone that had been his seat through the years as he'd watched the young lord bettering himself, growing each day from a boy to a man. He held her against him as she sat on his knees, and then she slowly pulled back, questioning in her thoughts.

"But, how..." she started, going through the possibilities that may arise. What would happen? What would others think? But then he gently stroked her cheek.

"Nothing will change. Out here, I am your protector only. But beyond those doors, you are free to do with me as you wish." he assured, and she laughed happily again as her hands took his face and brought him into a kiss as he gently pulled her closer. Everything was complete now, all of it was as it was meant to be. Their hearts had finally found peace. Her right hand moved down, removing the pin from his cloak and it slipped off his shoulders. He smiled, and then kissed her again, deeper than before, breathing her into him. Lost in the sweet, warm touch she removed the belts, armour and shirts as well, leaving him bare to the winter air, and her hands rested against his chest, her right covering the scar. She felt his fingers softly gliding over her back, and just along the edge of the neckline over her shoulders when the dress suddenly dropped, revealing her skin. She sniggered breaking the contact, not having felt him release the cords holding the fabric together. Then he chuckled, and brought her closer to kiss her again as her arms coiled around his neck. He moved slightly forward, allowing her to lean back resting on his arms as his mouth wandered down to her neck, to her shoulder, to the tender space between her breasts, etching soothing warm kisses to her skin and she breathed in deeply, feeding her senses with his caress as she stared at a white sky. She'd been alone for so long, resistive for so long, strong for so long, hard for so long... Perhaps, it was finally time to let go of that. Everyone was home. Everyone was safe. Everyone was together. It was time to let go... Her fingers tightened into his hair as she brought herself closer to him.

"I love what you do to me. I love feeling this again. To be calm, and happy and safe. To be complete again." she whispered into the thick brown strands, then he looked up, revealing the reddening of his eyes as he smiled.

"I love you. More than could ever be explained or understood. It is beyond anything words can put any meaning to. It has no shape, or colour, or limits. And if death refused to take me, because I was meant to have this with you, I would suffer the same devastation, would walk the same path hundreds of times over, just to hold you." she laughed softly, her fingers softly gliding over his cheeks.

"Then hold me. Hold me, and kiss me, and make love to me as long as you care to... Hold me, and never let me go." his arms constricted around her as he rested his mouth against her shoulder.

"I have promised you, that as long as I breathe I will never let you go..." his soft words echoed against her skin, so deeply she could feel it even in her feet, nearly severing her senses. She sat up, meeting the bright red eyes.

"I love you, Falgon." without waiting for his response, she kissed him again, and he returned it eagerly. She wanted him, everything about him, exactly as he was. No titles, no treasures, no lands, no pretences, no masks. Only him. Her hands gently trailed down his chest and abdomen to the laces of his breeches to loose them as the neckline of her gown dropped down and away from her. His kiss deepened with an intense breath as she freed him from the leather and adjusted her dress, then her left hand returned to his neck, the fingers gently holding onto him as his hands tensed on her low back. While guiding him, she used her legs to carefully bring herself closer to him until their skin touched, warm and wishful and yearning, then suddenly he pulled, securing his place as she broke the touch of their lips with a sharp gasp. But with him buried within her, her right hand settled on his shoulder as he held her and continued to kiss her, and she slowly started to move onto him, rising their senses as the world around them dissolved into white bliss. Moments later, her right hand glided over his shoulder to the base of his neck as her left fingers wove into his hair, and she pressed her face to his shoulder, smothering high, tense whimpers into his skin as his heavy breaths merged into her hair, relishing each pleasurable movement. Then he again leaned slightly forward, forcing her back to rest on his arms still holding her back and intensifying the touch as her rhythm increased, and her chest filled with deep gasps of cool air as his rested on her chest, the warmth of his lungs flowing over her. Then she tensed and released a long, satisfied moan, feeling each vein throb and her entire body tremble as a rush of pleasure drenched her completely. In a dizzy haze she felt him move forward, bringing the heavy cloak around and laying her down on it, covering her body with his before bringing her feet up to rest on his flanks; then took her hands raising them above her head with their fingers locked and kissed her heatedly, suffocating more sharp cries as he moved forcibly to meet her. There was no escape from this, no mercy from this ancient, feral fervour. But it was endless euphoria, in a world where nothing but they existed. In this abandoned state she escaped his mouth and pressed her lips to his shoulder to kill a scream, feeling her body quake and quiver and ripple once again moments before she felt him strain and pulse as his hands tensed in hers and his voice sounded into her hair. They eased holding one another, and the world they left behind slowly returned as the cool air surrounded them, filling their lungs. Then he gently moved away, and kissed her tenderly once more.

"If you ever feel uneasy with me, you must tell me." he whispered, and she stared at him, completely lost that he would say something like that.

"My dear Falgon, how could you think that? I will never feel uneasy with you." she assured him, but he smiled softly above a light shrug.

"I'm a Stoneholder. We tend to be a bit more... forceful, than others. At times..." he breathed. But she smiled, slipping her hands from his to rest her fingers on his cheek and shoulder.

"I don't mind. You will never hurt me." she told him, and then kissed him soothingly, feeling him soften against her. She eased back onto the cloak, calming under the tranquillising cold winter breeze while his fingers lovingly ran through her hair, after all these many years still marvelling at the harmonious black and white strands. She claimed a deep breath, allowing it to relieve her senses, releasing it with another soft, appeased moan; yet could not rid herself of the smile. Every piece of a once shattered reality united, creating this beautiful vision in a heavenly light. Then her eyes went back to him, his red eyes watching her with a soft endearing appreciation, and then noticed tiny dark marks on his shoulder where her mouth had been. She tenderly ran a finger over the blemishes, wondering. They hadn't been there a while ago.

"What..?" he looked down, and then laughed as his eyes returned to her, clearly amused.

"You bit me." he revealed, and complete horror struck her.

"I'm sorry..." her left hand closed over her mouth as she stared at him appalled, her right closed over the scars. Utterly lost in that intoxicated state, she hadn't realized what she'd done.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" she continued to apologise profusely, but then he gently touched his fingers to her lips to silence her.

"Claira, I was lashed and stoned and beaten and whipped. I've had a sword through my chest. I have stood beyond things that was meant to kill me. This is nothing." he comforted her, but her right hand then brought him closer to place her cheek to his, continuing to feel aghast.

"I'm so sorry..." she again forced through her lips, but he laughed.

"It's al right. I enjoyed it." he insisted, and after a moment of silence she laughed as her arms coiled around his neck.

"Oh, you great big silly man..." she breathed, and then felt his lips to hers in another deeply soothing kiss. This untamed freedom he'd given her, was something tenuous to any other ordinary noble...

Rychon and Berin spent much of the day in the Hollow, going over lists of accounts, reports, sanctions, entreaties, and other notices. He'd tried hard to keep his thoughts where they were meant to be, but found it something challenging. Milla and Bella had spent their day in the Trentin bedchamber while their other companions had the day to themselves to fill with whatever they chose, which currently included a visit to Garde's Post. He glanced out the window, noting that it was past noon.

"Lord De Veaux has suggested Smallember as the assembly point before crossing north with our force." Berin announced, and Rychon looked at him.

"That seems reasonable. It's our closest settlement to the border." he agreed. Moat Cailin was the stronghold securing the northern borderline, just a few leagues to the north-west of that village.

"We can have messages sent to our vassals that everyone is to gather there once word of the North is received before crossing. Added that all necessary resources are sufficient." he conceded, and Berin nodded.

"Our preparations started well ahead, everything should be adequate." he assured.

"Good. Better means give us a better vantage." Berin glanced at him.

"Fair enough, but a sharp sword in an unskilled hand could be unfavourable." he sighed, but Rychon smirked.

"Even brawlers can do their part, uncle." training was hard and slow as the order was given barely a month ago, and nowhere near what it should be. But with caches of dragon glass having arrived at their forges, the smiths were hard at work fashioning daggers for every able hand, and hope alone had sustained them before as well... Then the tolling of the west-side sentry tower bell took their attention, and Rychon stood to investigate. He smiled as he met the outside vision, and then turned.

"They're back." he informed, and then started his way back to the table.

"Is there anything else of import?" he asked, and Berin quickly scanned the remainder of the letters on the table surface.

"Nothing that can't wait half a day." he decided as he stood, sharing that same knowing smile and excited stir in his chest.

"Aunt Milla and Bella have already started on it, haven't they?" Rychon hinted, and Berin nodded.

"They have. But she said it might not be done until tomorrow." he reported as they stepped from the Hollow and made their way down to the Hall, continuing their subtle discussion until they stood on the top step watching over the bailey. The sentinel dismounted from Rage and surrendered the reins to one of the stable boys who'd come to collect the horses for grooming, and then proceeded to help their lady gently down from hers before her steed too, was led away. He stood with her, his hands resting on her waist just a moment longer than he usually would before stepping away, and bowing formally.

"I hope you enjoyed your ride, your grace." he said, and she nodded.

"Very much, thank you ser." then he followed her up the steps to meet them, there was a glow to her that had not been there before, and Rychon greeted them.

"Welcome home." Claira looked up at him, the glint in her eyes as bright as the stars.

"Thank you, my lord. But I'm afraid we've missed much, this morning." she replied, and he laughed.

"That's al right, everything is in order. I would like a moment to speak with you, though." he mentioned as he held his hand for her, which she took easily before he led her into the shadow of the hold towards the kitchens, perhaps to make a suggestion for their evening banquet. Berin lingered behind with Falgon, watching them walk away before turning his attention to his friend with a smile.

"How was your ride?" he asked inquisitively.

"Good." he replied, his eyes still on the figures moving away from them.

"And?" he pried gently, and saw his friend sigh.

"I thought that she wouldn't..." he sighed, but then after a moment looked at him with a small smile.

"She... She accepted..." he breathed, and Berin felt his heart skip a beat as he softly laughed.

"That's wonderful." And it was. Truly. They retired into the keep, meeting Berterin and Stephanie on their way out for her riding lesson before continuing up into the hold, speaking softly as they walked.

"Have any thoughts on when this memorable event will grace us?" Berin asked, and he shrugged.

"When she is ready. I've waited three hundred years, a little bit longer won't make any difference to me." Falgon replied, and Berin's eyes momentarily fell on the door going to the kitchens.

"And the ceremony?" he continued.

"Was traditionally only necessary in the sight of the Stone god, to my people. The face of my blade is the only representation of it still in existence." he told, and Berin's eyes came back to him.

"Much the same as in the ways of the old gods?" he asked, having the first spark of an idea as he recalled the nights beneath the crimson tree of Pale Haven. There were no need for septs or elaborate prayers and songs. Only witnesses.

"Largely the same, but not identical." he agreed, and Berin stopped.

"The garden of the lord's wing holds a representation of a heart tree, the face of the old gods, those of lady Claira and her ancestors. Would you be adverse to that?" he asked softly, but then his friend again smiled.

"I've not been particularly pious for a long time. Under whose gods we are joined is not a great concern to me. As long as she is happy, and at ease." he put forth, and Berin nodded. They continued up to the third level where they remained, discussing what may come for another few moments when Claira and Rychon came up the stairway to join them, where he gently brought her fingers to his mouth.

"Go and enjoy the rest of your day. And don't worry, everything will be fine." he encouraged, and she revealed a soft blush.

"Thank you so much, my Rychon." then she looked at her protector.

"Shall we? I'd like to see maester Adlyn before we join the others." he nodded.

"Of course, your grace." then he followed her up the incline, making their way to the maester's tower before they would settle in her common room to spend the rest of the day. Berin glanced at Rychon.

"So?" Rychon smiled, a whimsical glint in his bright blue eyes.

"Shall we return to the Hollow, lord Berin? It might not follow all the rules, but there's still much to be done, before tomorrow evening." he indicated, and Berin laughed.

"Of course, my lord." he agreed, and they proceeded on their way to further meet the assignments, and arrange preparations. They only left the council chamber when summoned to the evening feast where family, friends and servants came together to sup on steamed trout with spiced vegetables, followed by stewed fruit and warm custard along with mead, press and sweet wines while Berry and Joldewin filled the hall with laughter and song. A suggestion came from Beatrice to accept them into the castle service as court jesters, to which the lord replied he would think on it, but only after the war has passed. It was a pleasant evening, and after giving the order for the hall to be cleared the lord asked his lady for a walk in their garden, giving his promise to her father to deliver her back to her chamber himself before midnight. And with everyone departing the southern hall to their apartments, they stepped into the cool night air amidst the white falling flakes and dim light of the garden torches, making their way to the back of the garden where they took a seat on the stone bench next to the fountain, simply talking and sharing their day, when she mentioned that their project was going very well, and just required a few last amendments.

"I'm sorry for having to ask this of you so suddenly. I know it's a rush." he apologised, but she smiled.

"Not at all. We had a lot to start with." she eased him, and he laughed bringing her closer and branding a warm kiss to her brow as her right arm wound around his waist.

"Who will know?" she asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

"Only our family, no one else. It's better that way." he breathed, looking out over the darkness where he knew the horizon was. She drew a deep breath against him.

"When the war comes, is Falgon going to fight with you?" she asked.

"No. Let him stay with my mother. That's where he belongs." he decided, and she looked up at him.

"He would benefit your forces greatly." she said, but he laughed.

"I know. But, I won't expect him to. He would benefit me more by staying here." he told, still holding onto the thought that should they fail, this stronghold would stand as long as he defended it, and all in it.

"Even with the strength of all of the kingdoms, there is no surety that we will win this war. So, if the worst should happen, he will still protect our home and our family." he told, having to acknowledge that it was a dismal thought. Then he felt her pressing herself tighter against him.

"You shouldn't think that way..." she whispered, and he pushed the thoughts away.

"Al right, then. They say the gods work in mysterious ways. Is it a selfish wish, to hope for a baby brother?" he amended. And that was a better thought. If he was the conclusion of the first part of the prophecy, then that may be the second. The world had faced a long night before, and did not wither in that darkness. This might not be the last darkness they faced together, either. Then he saw her smile.

"No. I don't think that's selfish." she agreed, and he laughed softly.

"I might wish for a son, as well." he teased, and she blushed.

"Now that's just being greedy." she giggled, and he kissed her, warming her cold skin in this serene air, breathing in her sweet scent. Then he moved slightly back.

"I will have the maesters send word throughout our realm tomorrow, informing all of our betrothal." he promised, and she sniggered again slightly.

"I can imagine lady Ameera won't appreciate that." she warned, and felt his arm tightening around her, bringing her slightly closer.

"I don't care much about Ameera. I think I've seen her three times my entire life, I barely know her. She could never make me feel the way you do." he assured, and she leaned forward to kiss him again. It was a known reality, that marriage for love was rare, especially in their position. But as the lord, he could. And he chose her... They retreated back inside when the somnolence more than the cold had become all but unbearable, and he escorted her to her bedchamber where he bid her a peaceful evening with a last tender kiss before returning to his own, passing the door beyond which the Stone king lay bare beside his queen on the thick pelt, watching over her as she slept while the red of his eyes slowly faded away; the golden light reflecting off pale skin in gentle sparkling colours, and just running his fingers gently up her arm, over her shoulder, down the length of her back to her hip and back again. It was almost magical, how her flesh reacted to his touch, rising into tiny mounds and then vanishing again a few moments later, and he wondered what that felt like. He couldn't recall if he'd ever experienced something like that, and if he did it was far too long ago for any memories. Once in a while, she would move slightly when his fingertips brushed over her side, but it didn't appear to be painful. Then he lowered, softly placing a kiss to her shoulder before moving away, and a moment later she looked up at him.

"Why did you stop?" she asked, her voice slow and sleepy.

"I don't want to keep you from sleep." he whispered, and she reached up resting her fingers to his cheek.

"I was asleep..." she breathed, and he brought his hand back to continue the soft caress, hearing her moan as his fingers passed over her shoulder.

"What does that feel like?" he asked, and her attention returned to him.

"What?" he laughed, passing his touch over her ribs and watching the skin rise again.

"That." he indicated, and she turned.

"You don't know?" he shook his head.

"I don't think so. I can't remember." she laughed softly, resting her hand on his.

"It's hard to put into words, but if feels good." she told as he watched her.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Not at all." then he smiled, and lowered himself to kiss her again.

"Then that is good." he agreed.

A new day broke over the horizon, and slowly followed its routine much like any day before. Except that it was snowing. Morning progressed with inspections, amendments of the guard rounds, sparring, their morning meals, prayer, court and a number of other activities including the announcement that lord Rychon of house Taugere will wed lady Bella of house Trentin when the realm was once again at peace. With noon, Milla and Bella retreated back to their bedchamber. Claira spent the day in her common room on knitting and songs with Beatrice and Samantha while Falgon played the lute for them as Berterin and Stephanie continued her lessons and Rychon and Berin resuming their charge of the keep and its grounds. Their evening banquet was a feast of rich spinach and garlic soup with fresh bread rolls, roast boar with apple sauce, turkey stuffed with sausage, mushrooms and nuts with lard baked potatoes, crab cakes and seared haddock seasoned with wild herbs, steamed vegetables with cheese strips, followed by peach pie and blueberry cobbler with honey and cream, accompanied by golden mead, spiced wine and sweet press; which was thoroughly enjoyed by all. Beatrice sat back in her chair next to Bella, bringing a chalice of sweet press to her mouth.

"This was a lavish feast, lord Rychon. Thank you. Is there any particular reason for it?" she quipped, and he glanced at Bella opposite from him for a discreet instant.

"No. No particular reason. Do I need one, to feast my family?" he replied guiltless, and she blushed.

"Of course not." he smiled. She might suspect that there was something more to this, and a reason may give her relief.

"This might be the last time that we can enjoy something like this together, until after the northern threat is dealt with. I wanted it to be unforgettable." he gave, and she nodded.

"It was." she agreed, and he laughed. That was a good reason. But, not the true one. They lingered in the hall, submerged in stories and music until the order was given for the hall to be cleared, and everyone sauntered to their apartments fully sated. The Trentins parted ways from the Taugeres on the third level with the promise to join them again in a few moments, then took the hallways to their chambers, while Claira, Falgon and Rychon continued up to the lord's wing where they entered. Then Rychon turned to his mother.

"Go on, take a few moments for yourself. We'll be waiting for you." he urged, then she nodded before casting her protector a glance and made her way up to her chamber where she sat down on the blue silk edge of the bed, her hands together in front of her face. When she'd suggested tonight for the ceremony, she hadn't thought that she would feel this anxious. There was no reason to. Since four years ago she had on multiple occasions refused to take a new husband, and now she was about to. But, it wasn't a torturous thought. He wasn't a noble, he was a king. He wasn't insistent, only accepting. He was different from them. He had watched over her with a gentle kindness for many long years, he understood her so much better than any other man could. He was meant to be hers, and in the end she was meant to be his... She'd given the pearl and a fine silver ring which had lost its garnet many years ago to maester Adlyn the day before, hoping he might find a way to join the two. And might collect that from him tomorrow. Then she looked up at the wardrobe, deciding she might try to choose an appropriate dress. It would be a small ritual, but it would still have meaning. Then she stood and made her way to the great doors, opening them to scan through the many vibrant colours. Her fingers touched the soft silk of her white dress with the pearl pin, but decided that would not serve. She was no longer pure. Under the circumstances, green would not be appropriate. She was not fertile. Red was the colour of strength, passion and love; but might be a bit dark and she did not wish to overpower her suitor. Purple was peace and devotion, but also a decidedly cold colour... Her hands dropped, wondering what to do. Then she drew a deep breath, telling herself that it should not matter. He wouldn't care what she wore. She could meet him in black if she chose to. But finally she pulled a gown of rose silk with an ivory centre piece and gold detailing from her selections and lay it down on the bed, adding a rose quarts and gold girdle, gold and tourmaline circlet and her peach slippers to compliment it. She spared a moment to look out her window, but could not make out much save for the cap of the fountain and two burning torches, and soft voices under the gently falling snow in the garden below. Then she turned back to the bed, stifling the race of her heart and started undoing the back laces of her berry blue dress when a knock at the door drew her attention, making her pause.

"Enter." half a heartbeat later, Milla stepped inside with a smile as bright as she'd ever seen, dressed in lime green with silver and pearl sequence.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, and Claira nodded.

"Good..." she replied, trying to ignore the pace coursing through her veins. But their presence did make her feel more at ease. Then Milla glanced down at the dress spread out on the bed with curious eyes.

"This is what you're wearing?" she asked, and Claira sighed.

"Yes, it seems appropriate." she said, and Milla looked back at her.

"No. No, no, no, this won't do." she refused, and then looked back at the doorway.

"Bella!" she called, and then her voice sounded in the passage outside.

"I'm coming." Just a few moments later she entered, dressed in sweet raspberry pink with a pearl centre piece and gold detailing while carrying something large wrapped in a white sheet in her hands and quickly shut the door behind her.

"I'm sorry, I had to make sure no one sees it." she apologised almost sheepishly as she came over to them, and Milla moved slightly back.

"You will wear this." she indicated, and Bella let the sheet drop to the floor, revealing what she held. Claira stared at it, completely awe struck as her fingers closed over her mouth, fighting the warmth of tears to her eyes. It was one of the most beautiful dresses she'd ever seen.

"Milla... your dress..." she breathed, but the air was hard in her chest.

"I'm not going to wear it again." her friend assured, and the joyful laughter forced her frozen chest to move. Milla had taken her own wedding dress of wide peach satin, and removed the tulle replacing it with finely pleated sky blue silk, secured with a pearl band around the slim waist and over the originally open back into a corset and short fitted sleeves and a long flowing train. Ivory lace adorned the edges of the train and neckline where two strings of pearls and a tear-drop ruby decorated the chest, and formed wide elegant foresleeves attached to the short sky blue arms.

"How... how did you do this?" she sank down on the edge of the bed, and Milla laughed.

"Bella helped, of course. We borrowed one of your dresses for the measurements, the merchants in Garde's Post supplied the silk, and you can thank Bella for the lace. Unfortunately she was not fond of the gown that Rod gave her for her fourteenth name day." she hinted, and Claira's eyes met theirs, glimmering happily above the sheen of tears.

"Thank you... Thank you both, so much. I can't tell you how much this means to me..." she whimpered, and Bella moved forward.

"We just want you to be happy, aunt Claira." she said softly, and the lady laughed.

"I am. I truly am." she assured, and then Milla took her hands and drew her gently to her feet.

"Come, let's get you dressed." she urged leading her away from the bed before stepping around and undoing the back laces of the blue dress, allowing it to drop away. Then Claira carefully slipped the exquisite gown over her skin, adjusting the neckline as Bella corrected the skirt and Milla secured the golden back laces. The bodice was slightly loose fitting, but comfortable. Then she pulled the soft peach slippers over her feet before Bella continued to brush out her long glistening hair while Milla returned the circlet in search of a new one. Then as Bella styled and secured the luscious strands with a jewelled pin, Milla came back with a delicate circlet of silver and sapphire to decorate her brow, and the tiny box holding the silver and sapphire earrings. They spent a fair while in preparation, all the while sharing soft and happy conversation on this evening. Then as Claira stood at the foot of the bed, allowing them to examine her and make their last amendments a soft knock at the door made her heart stop for just an instant, and she wished her brother was here to give her that tiny red seed one more time before realizing that Milla was staring at her. She quickly nodded, and her dear friend allowed entry to their visitor. The door carefully edged open, and the lord of Mount Ardor stepped inside, evidently having exchanged his dark leather jerkin for a wine red and gold quilted samite doublet, and the black cloak with the phoenix pin. He stared at her for a long moment, seeming almost dazed and blinking twice, but then smiled and joined them after closing the door, still not taking his eyes away from her, and her only response at the time was to stare back. Is something wrong..?Then he looked at the others with a satisfied nod.

"Thank you, my ladies. You may leave us." he announced, and Milla glanced back, squeezing the cold fingers a last time before she and her daughter departed the chamber. Then his eyes went over his mother again, taking in each of the delicate details.

"You look breathtaking." he praised, and she looked down, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

"Thank you, Rychon." she whimpered, and he lovingly took her hands, bringing her closer.

"After everything that's happened, you deserve this. You deserve to be happy, again. You deserve someone that will love you, as dearly as Falgon does. Someone who will hold you, keep you warm, and comfort you. After the heartache that you had to suffer, both of you, you deserve every happiness and blessing that this life still has to offer." he told, and then embraced her, laying a soothing kiss against her hair as he felt her shiver. Don't worry. Everything will be al right. Everything is as it must be... He waited with her until the intense emotions faded, then stepped back and held his arm for her.

"Shall we?" she smiled and wrapped her fingers around his elbow, his warm hand resting on her cool fingertips as they left the chamber and he led her down to the lord's hall where silence reigned. Together, they stepped out into the garden where their family waited, gliding over the glittering snow. Falgon stood in front of the fountain, exactly the same as he always was with Summit watching from his right shoulder and Berin at his side, holding a glowing lantern in his hand. Milla, Bella and Berterin stood just a few feet from them. Maester Adlyn was present as well, seated on a chair that was brought out for him. A sudden overwhelming urge to laugh and cry and scream fell on her, and again her hand started to quiver uncontrollably, but the warmth of the hand gently pressing down on hers warded off the feeling as they approached, finally standing in front of the face watching back. After another moment of silence, Berin stepped forward, raising the lantern.

"Who comes before the gods this night?" he asked, his voice soft in a gentle winter breeze, and Rychon faced him.

"Claira, of the House Taugere, comes here to be wed. A woman, strong, true-born and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the gods. Who comes to claim her?" he returned in the still air, and then Falgon stepped forward, tall and proud.

"Falgon of the Fire Hall, Battle Master of the Corridor, who was born Aetes Rhinemar, first-blood of Aecaeus Rhinemar, once ruler of Sanctum and last king of the Stoneholds claims her as his bride. Who gives her?" he announced, and Rychon glanced at his mother with a reassuring smile before looking back at the king.

"Rychon of House Taugere, who is her son, Liege Lord of Mount Ardor and Warden of the Goldfields of the Corridor." he stated, and then she saw Berin looking at her, the light of the lantern casting long shadows over the faces that stood around them.

"Lady Claira, will you take this man?" he asked, and then she looked at Falgon as he stared at her in utter wonder, waiting calmly for her answer under the sight of the gods.

"I will take this man." She agreed, willing her voice to remain even. Then Rychon brought her hands to his mouth, breathing a soft touch to the fingertips before releasing her hands to her husband and stepping back, leaving them alone under the canopy while he and Berin joined the others. Falgon looked down at her, running his thumbs gently over her fingers, then drew a breath.

"I cannot give you riches, I cannot give you lands, I cannot give you a title that will be worthy of you; I cannot give you anything of this world. But, I give myself completely as I am. My eyes to see the beauty of you each day, my shoulders to support you in your need, my arms to hold you in the cold and my hands to help you. I give you my strength to shield and carry you, and my voice to guide you in times of concern. And I give you my heart that will love you always, to be only yours until I am reclaimed by the earth. All I beg in return, is yours." he said softly as from his palm he brought a fine silver ring with her blue pearl set in its centre, and slipped it onto her finger. Finally she relented to the wild pounding of her heart as she smiled at him, complete and unbound.

"It is yours. Until I am reclaimed by the earth, it is yours." she promised, and he uttered a soft laugh as he leaned forward towards her. Her hands slipped from his, cupping his face as their lips met, then his arms wound around her waist and lifted her from the ground, holding her against his chest as he kissed her, deeply and truly and freely as her arms coiled around his shoulders, ignoring the cheers, hoots and applause from the small group. He was hers, and she was his, for as long as time still existed. Disregarding the urges to scream and cry, she laughed hysterically in her secrecy still drowned in the sweet kiss and loving embrace of her husband. But then when she finally drew back, she gasped suddenly.

"Your eyes..." she whispered to warn him, but he smiled.

"It's al right." he assured, and then gently set her down on the ground before looking at them, drawing them to an abrupt deep silence while they simply stared at him, at the bright and burning red of his eyes.

"This is why this must remain a secret." he told, and they exchanged glances, unsure of how to react. But then Claira took his hand in hers, and he looked down, bringing his free hand up to softly caress her cheek.

"It is the price for a truth, that no one else will ever understand..." he breathed, watching as her eyes came up to his and her right hand rested on his against her cheek. Then he heard footfalls, the weight crushing over fallen the snow.

"No one, save for those present here, will ever know." Rychon assured, and he looked up to see Berin smiling as he glanced at the others, having found his senses again while they continued to stare, lost in the sudden trance.

"The lord's wing beyond shut doors is none of their concern, besides." he agreed with half a smirk before looking back, but the others remained staring. He'd seen the same stares before many times, back when he first left the Stoneholds and still needed to learn his emotional limits. Shock, awe, wonder, amazement, daze, disbelief... But not fear. Not horror. Not hatred. Not here. Not from them. Berterin moved slightly back, watching the massive shadow, red eyes leering down at him. But, unlike before, it didn't seem so terrifying. The creature had risen, but with its wings spread and one closed over their lady, didn't seem so dark any more. It seemed to almost glitter as it softly gurgled, sounding like some monstrous, happy cat. This ancient entity was their guardian, and would shield them until the end of eternity.

"I... I've never seen anything like that..." Milla breathed, and then looked at Bella next to her, their hands together in a moment of reflex, but then the girl looked back at Falgon with a wondrous giggle.

"It's beautiful." she added, and with that the numbness that held them vanished, and the guests gathered to congratulate the bride and her groom. Maester Adlyn forced himself to his feet, and slowly ambled closer, raising his hands to them.

"May your union be blessed and peaceful, my lord and lady." he praised as they took his hands, and Falgon smiled.

"Thank you, maester. But, I'm no lord." he said, but the maester regarded him.

"Of course. You are a king. And while death forces many changes, it does not change who you are." he replied, and for a moment the tall man simply stared at him before laughing.

"That must be true..." he sighed in agreement, thinking better of it than to try and argue. They left the cool of the garden, and settled on the seats surrounding the warm glow of the lord's hearth where Summit was removed and now rested against the stones, sharing spiced wine over songs and stories, and a forgotten world that was all but a vague forlorn memory. Some time later, maester Adlyn looked up at the couple seated on the wide divan.

"You mentioned a name..." he brought up, once again seeming ponderous.

"Something like Aeres, or Aeles, or..." he started, trying to recall what he'd said.

"Aecaeus." Falgon corrected, and he smiled.

"Yes, that's the one. Who was he?" he asked, and the Stone king glanced at the flames.

"I suppose one could say he was my great grandfather. Many, many generations ago." he eased back against the rest of the divan.

"There were many stories. Aecaeus was mighty. Our people said, that he was a god among men, that he fought a hundred wars. That even when he was old and blind, he continued to lead his warriors to battle alongside five sons, and twelve grandsons. It was tragic that he, who was such a great and powerful man, died of heartache less than half a year after burying his wife." he told, and then looked down at Claira, nestled at his side.

"There was never any mention of her name, though. Only that she was called his doe eyed queen." he added, and then looked at the old man who nodded slowly.

"Why do you ask, maester?" he was curious, and then the deep brown eyes met his.

"I've heard that name before, but I can't quite recall where..." he breathed, willing his mind to bring it back to him.

"It's unlikely, it's not a common name. And I understand that all records and accounts of our existence was ordered destroyed by the Conqueror, unless it was in some piece that survived that." he shrugged, and the maester lightly pursed his lips, as he often did while thinking.

"That might be. Perhaps I will remember, or find it again some day." he said, and then leaned forward slightly.

"But, you may forgive me for leaving you, my lords and ladies. I find myself quite exhausted." he struggled to bring motion to his legs as he beckoned Berterin closer.

"May I beg the strength of your arm to my solar, lord Berterin? I fear the steps are not kind to old legs." the youngster stood and helped the maester to his feet before looking back.

"Then I'll retire as well. Good night, everyone." he greeted, receiving fond wishes for a fair evening as he and the maester departed the lord's hall while the others lingered behind, continuing their discussions for a while longer before Berin and Milla too, decided that it was time to surrender to sleep. Some time later, the hall was drenched in silence as Rychon sat with Bella at his side, their hands locked together, simply staring at the couple in front of him where his mother was resting against the side of the Stone king, his right arm protectively around her shoulders and his left hand closed over hers, his mouth resting against her hair. She seemed so tiny against his massive frame. He was staring at the flames, his eyes now a rich amber-gold that the red had vanished. He felt Bella gently squeeze his fingers, and then glanced at her with a subtle wink before looking back at them.

"Falgon." the tall man looked up at him, and he smiled.

"Kiss your wife." he urged, and Falgon smirked.

"My wife..." it was still something magical to him, even now. And Rychon laughed.

"Yes, your lady wife." he agreed, and Falgon looked down at her, bringing his left hand up to rest on her cheek as she looked up at him.

"No. Not my lady." he smiled.

"My queen." he corrected and she laughed softly as he closed his mouth over hers, true and deep and soothing, so sweet it made him feel warm. And when he drew back, there was a new ember glow to his eyes. His attention came back to the youngsters, drawing a deep breath.

"There are two things that define us as men, although some would argue against it. War, and love." he told, still running his fingers over Claira's pale cheek.

"War is jumping into a pond fully armoured, and trying to keep your head above the surface. But love... That is drifting bare in the ocean, feeling the calms and the storms." he told, and Rychon again glanced at Bella for a moment. That was a unique way of seeing it.

"The difference?" he asked, watching the bright eyes.

"The difference?" he looked down. There was truth to it, and a new acceptance for it. Battles like ponds are brief and treacherous, but love like the ocean... Deep and eternal, and dangerous.

"In the pond, you make it out. In the ocean, you drown." he concluded. Rychon sat back, reflecting on those words. He'd always known that Falgon was temperate, that he saw the world and thought of it differently than others, but so many times his words had a more profound meaning than simply what you heard. Then he looked at Bella next to him, rubbing her eyes.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and she blushed.

"A little bit..." she confessed, and then he stood to help her to her feet.

"Then I should see you safely to bed." he offered, gently pulling her up before turning back to the others who had also stood to greet them. Claira softly embraced Bella, again thanking her for all they've done and wishing her a peaceful night and then embraced her son in the same way while the young lady greeted their Battle Master. Then Rychon turned to Falgon, extending a hand which he took fondly.

"So, what shall I call you now?" he humoured, but the tall man simply smiled.

"You may call me anything you wish, sire." he shrugged, and Rychon nodded slowly, seeming to reflect on that. Then he looked at Claira.

"Well then. Good night, mother." he issued before his blue eyes came back.

"Father." for the instant that the word met him, his heart stopped, and a warmth raced through him like a wonderful flood. Then he laughed, his grip on the hand tightening slightly. You are not my blood... but, but you are my family...

"Sleep well, Rychon." then the young lord held his arm for his lady, who gently slipped her hands around his elbow, and together they left the lord's wing. Falgon looked down at Claira, and picked her up in his arms with a smile.

"Shall I deliver you to your chambers, your grace?" her arms coiled around his neck as she laughed.

"Yes." he carried her up the steps to the first room where he gently set her down on the bear pelt, then returned to shut the door. She removed the earrings and the circlet, letting them drop onto the edge of the pelt where she'd find them again later. She heard the rustling of fabric and leather, and the chink of metal as her hands felt down the front of the dress, taking in all of the fine details for a moment before going to the back, reaching for the laces. She could feel them, but for some reason couldn't take hold of them. The cords might have been a bit short, or Milla simply fastened them too much, trying to secure the bodice tightly. She glanced back, not fully seeing him.

"Could I ask you for some help?" she breathed, and then heard him chuckle.

"Certainly." a moment later she felt a gentle pull to the threads, loosing the fabric as he released the laces, one by one freed from the eyelets as she stood waiting while cool air slowly drifted down the length of her back as the fabric opened, easing the skin. Then his fingertips moved slowly up her back, exciting her senses and sending small quivers through her muscles and making her shiver as his touch smoothed over her shoulders, and a slight gasp sounded through the chill air as the gown dropped away. His caress was something otherworldly enchanting, it left her yearning and spellbound. She felt her hair fall naturally down the length of her back as the jewelled pin was removed, and it joined her other effects on the pelt. Then his left hand softly glided down her back while his right arm circled her, tracing a line up her stomach to her chest and throat, and his lips touched the tip of her right ear.

"I love you. I adore everything about you, from the tips of your hair to your feet. I worship every inch of you. You are beautiful. Powerful. Bold. And more resilient than you think." his whisper sent ripples echoing through her flesh, and once again the skin rose into tiny mounds. She turned to face him, who was completely bare behind her. Her hands went to his face, gently resting on his smooth cheeks as she brought him down into a longing kiss, and felt his warmth seeping into her as her arms wound around his neck and his snaked around her waist holding her tightly. They surrendered to the state, the sweet entanglement of love's caress. He lowered, still not breaking the kiss as his hands slipped down to her legs and hauled her up against him, her knees passing his sides and her calves resting on his hips; her weight now supported on his right forearm while his left again held her back. She giggled, interrupting the touch for less than an instant before he held her tighter and deepened his kiss, bringing a soft moan from her as he softly pushed his tongue into her mouth, smothering her with want, and she responded, bringing him closer still. Then he moved forward, and gently lay her down on the silk of the bed, moving his mouth slowly over her cheek, down to her neck and over her breast, teasing the mound with his tongue. She breathed in sharply, releasing it in another soft moan as he traced another route back to her shoulder and down the inside length of her arm to her right hand while his fingers glided tenderly down the outside, his lips loving against the scar over her palm.

"I'm sorry about my hands." she whispered, but he looked at her with a smile as he lay her hand against his cheek.

"Your hands have never felt cold to me. They've always been so warm..." he revealed, bringing her left hand to his mouth to do the same, and then continued back the same way from her left hand back to her shoulder, and again over her breast to tease her, inflaming her senses as the touch spread into every nerve and vein. Then he continued to etch kisses to the skin of her abdomen with his hands gentle on her sides and down to her thighs where he softly caressed the skin down to her right ankle, and returned from the left, the sensation exciting soft appeased moans as he came closer and closer. Then he lingered a long moment on the skin of her low abdomen before moving slowly down to where he roused her, bringing deep sharp breaths into her chest, released in short, tense cries as her fingers wove into his hair and her body arched to his touch, lost in dizzying drunken bliss. But before she melted he left her, bringing his mouth back up her shivering body to her respiring lips, nourishing her parched being. Her arms went around his sides as her feet pressed into his thighs, urging him yet closer. His hand slid over her skin to rest on her breast, then again moved his mouth to her neck, soothing over the small scars as he applied very gentle pressure to the mound between his fingers as he tenderly kneaded the mass in his palm. She sighed and moaned, submersed by the sensations that overtook her, begging for more. Then he turned, bringing her up onto him to rest on his hips while his hands held her thighs and she breathed in deeply to replenish her senses. Then she smiled, looking down at his bright red eyes.

"You want me to?" he nodded, a shy pull to his mouth, and she laughed as she lowered to kiss him again. He breathed her into him as his right hand moved up, the fingers slowly weaving into her hair as his left slid over her hip to rest on her low back. Her hands moved down, leaving tingling trails down his chest and abdomen to his loins from where she guided him again, emitting a sharp gasp as she accepted him, only just hearing a soft suppressed groan escape his throat concurrently. She moved onto him slowly, fading away into a world of bliss, whirling in a state of abandonment and echoes of gasps, moans, whimpers and soft cries, finally raising herself up to let her hands rest on his chest while increasing her rhythm. Then he raised himself up, supporting her low back with his hands and allowing her to lean back, increasing the touch as she continued to move in shorter, closer motions while still holding onto his shoulders. Moments later her head dropped back, releasing a long soundless scream into the cool air as her muscles shuddered and constricted, feeling a warm flood race through every vein. Forcing deep cold breaths into her chest to calm the heat, he moved again, driving her abruptly into the silks. It wasn't as gentle as before, but it was strangely and wildly exhilarating. Feeling breathless and dizzy she laughed, pulling him down into a kiss as he closed over her and continued to move into her, drawing more soundless cries as he brought her knees to his sides and proceeded to make love to her with all his powerful energy, elevating the heat that surrounded them and himself to meet her, harder and higher into pleasance until she screamed again, her fingernails clawing down the length of his shoulders as uncontrollable quivers rattled through the extent of her body, intensifying the giddy haze. But, not yet sated, he hauled her up against him onto his legs, holding her low back with his right hand as the left wove into her hair and her arms wound around his neck, drowning intense cries into his shoulder as she accepted each powerful movement as his voice sounded into her neck. She screamed again, her fingers digging into the flesh of his back as her limbs tensed and cramped and convulsed remorselessly. Then he strained, and she moaned to his pulse, breath and seed warm as the sunlight drenching her entirely as his arms constricted. He breathed hard and deep, then gently lay her down on the silks, still struggling to reclaim her breath through exhaustion. But then he lovingly kissed her shoulder, and her arms tightened around him as her eyes opened. The world was spinning, whirling and swimming as brightly colourful stars danced dazzlingly throughout the shadows of the chamber, casting their lights on the surfaces and the corners of the stones as cold air slowly entangled her.

"Did I hurt you?" his words vibrated subtly along the skin of her neck, and she forced another deep breath into her chest.

"No... Oh, gods no..." but it was less than a whisper, and then she saw his eyes, looking at her in their bright burning red.

"Then what's wrong?" he examined her clearly concerned, but she laughed as she brought lazy fingers to his face.

"Nothing... Nothing is wrong..." she assured, still feeling the relentless shuddering clinging to every nerve from her ears down to her toes, but there was no feeling in the world that she wanted more; and then bit by bit eased onto the softness of the bed.

"I'm dizzy..." she confessed, trying to bring the wheeling world to a calm, and heard him chuckle as a finger tenderly traced along her cheek.

"It will fade." he soothed, watching as she breathed again, and again, and again. Then he lowered, circling her with his arms and resting his cheek against her chest, feeling and hearing the violent pounding of her heart.

"I'm sorry, I might have been a bit virile-" he started, but her arms tightened as she laughed softly.

"I don't care. Just... Just stay with me..." she pleaded, and felt his arms bringing her closer, and his lips gently to her chest.

"I'm not going anywhere." he promised, and for a little while more she watched the stars sparkling in the air above them before they started to fade away, along with everything else into the different world of a dream where all was bright and clear and sweet, and life was good with family and peace and fortune in abundance. She woke again to the soft songs of birds, somewhere in the distant still dark sky, finding that her arms were still closed around her husband's shoulders, who had not moved from his place, save that the silk sheets were covering their hips.

"You're still here..." she teased, her voice still heavy with sleep. Then he looked up with a smile, revealing his clear honey eyes.

"I promised you I would be." he replied, and then moved slightly up to kiss her.

"There is one thing I love more than your eyes looking down at me." he breathed, his eyes going over her features.

"And what is that?" she asked, and he moved again, pressing himself securely against her, making her chest expand with a sudden, unexpected rush of air.

"You. Holding you. Having my arms around you. Feeling your skin against mine. Tasting the sweetness of your lips. Experiencing a long dead warmth you've brought to life for me again." he told, running his fingers along free strands of hair, but then he laughed.

"Al right, so that's more than one thing." he corrected, and she pulled him down once more, bringing his lips to hers, and then smiled.

"My Falgon. My powerful Stone king..." he lowered, pressing his mouth to the curve of her neck, softly over the small scars as he took her hand in his, locking their fingers together.

"My burning frost queen... My Claira..." He was everything. He was an extraordinary man, a singular warrior, a remarkable leader, and true as all else, an exceptional lover... But, not for the reasons so often first expected. Not for his fervour or vigour, granted he had much of both... But simply for the smallest gestures. In still reverie, they waited out the early morning in one another's presence until the window betrayed the first light of day.

"Should... Should I call you Aetes?" she asked softly, and a long silent moment followed before he raised up to look at her.

"No. I would remain your Falgon, if it please you." he declined, and her memory went back to the night in her common room, when she had asked him about his true name. I quite like the name you have given me... If I can help it, I would rather not return to my past... she had no choice but to accept that. Then she gently cupped his face, cool palms against his cheeks.

"It will." he lowered, and kissed her softly before she eased into the silks again, suddenly noting the smooth sheets surrounding them.

"This is the first time you've shared a bed with me." she said. They'd spent several evenings on the thick pelt in front of the hearth, until last night... then he laughed.

"Second, in truth. The first time you believed me to be your husband, and now I am." he corrected, and she glanced away trying to hide a guilty blush.

"I'm sorry for that. I didn't mean for that to happen. I honestly thought-" she tried to explain, but he gently brought her eyes back to his.

"It's al right. I know. You don't have to apologise for anything." he soothed, and she stared at him.

"It doesn't bother you, when I speak of him?" she asked, seeing him smile at her, tender and true and loving.

"No, it doesn't bother me. He was your husband, your first love." he eased, but her fingers tightened on his shoulders.

"I belong to you, now..." she reminded, perhaps more to herself than to him, but the calm, compassionate smile remained looking at her as his fingers stroked through her hair, and he sighed.

"Three hundred years, is a lot longer than five, and time has its own pace. I will never demand or compel you for anything. You can dress a wound, but you cannot force it to heal. It must do so on its own." her arms wound around him and pulled him closer, holding him tightly as she desperately fought the urge to cry. What have I done..? What have I done? What have I ever done, to deserve someone like you..?

"I love you, Falgon. I love you..." he held her, his breath warm and soothing and calm and comforting into her neck and shoulder.

"I love you, Claira."

Berin sat with Rychon and Berterin in the Hollow, going over the reports. The morning had progressed much the same as any other until they took up the matters here, and word had been received from the cities that they were starting to move resources to Smallember where their men were meant to gather before crossing to the North, while their own forces would gather around the grounds of Garde's Post before heading out to join them. Finalization would take a few days, and there was the deliberation of sending their masses when all was deemed prepared, or to continue to wait for their summons from the north. Those favouring the initial, made a point of stating that should anything unexpected happen, the ravens might reach them too late. But, the north had many eyes, and many wings. Each day they had, gave them another bread, a new blade, and a better hand. So for now, they waited in forethought. He glanced up at Rychon and Berterin discussing a matter, reflecting on the past month and how well they'd adapted to their place as memorable visions passed through his mind. Once only babes, small and helpless but infinite joy. Not too long ago, just boys who were all boisterous, reckless and a cause of concern. Now... Now they were men. Powerful, brave, and headstrong, tactful and accomplished with the world at their feet. They would do well, whatever task they took on. And they would do it together, just as he and Raeghun once had. He laughed at himself, for these odd moments of pride. But as a father, he treasured them whenever they came to him, and stowed them away within himself. Then he looked down again at the item he took up, scanning a small scroll received from Bristlemane just this morning, bringing himself forward as he took in the words written in his youngest son's hand. And it was becoming worrisome.

"No banners have been spotted, yet. But there's been a bit of movement, heading north from south." he announced, and the youngsters brought their attention to him immediately.

"Do you think the armies have been delayed?" Rychon asked as he set the letter back down on the surface.

"I don't know. It's possible, I suppose." he told, and watched as Rychon sat back with Berterin still looking at him, his green eyes lighting up with a mix of excitement and anxiety.

"What are the chances of the queen's forces truly joining ours?" he sighed, but Rychon continued to stare at the table in front of him.

"It doesn't really matter. We have to be ready." he seemed calmer, more controlled, thinking. Then he looked at Berin.

"Send the orders out for our men to start assembling, and we'll have word sent to our bannermen to have their forces gather at their strongholds. I want all the dragon glass daggers that have been finished to be distributed to the soldiers. It should be almost time. We move for Smallember as soon as the ravens arrive, and might not have extra time for amendments." he advised, and Berin nodded. He had to remind himself regularly, that their young lord was only sixteen years old, although it would not appear that way at a glance. He had caution and an understanding which most at his age lacked. A strategic mind where others tended to be careless, a wisdom beyond his years, and a fearlessness which may have been inherited from his father, elsewise he concealed his emotions quite well.

"Are you going to ask Falgon to join us?" Berterin suddenly asked, and Rychon looked at him.

"No." he replied with a sigh, and Berterin stared at him for a moment longer.

"He is the strongest of us. The most skilled. He could be-" he tried to continue, but his friend silenced him.

"He belongs to my mother, not to me." he told, and Berterin leaned forward with his right arm resting on the table surface.

"Rychon, we could end the war just with him. If he's immortal, he could take out the Night King's entire army, all on his own." he insisted, but Berin bit down on his words. He understood the controversy, and in truth it would be preferable, and a great benefit to have the Stone king among their strengths. But again, the young lord refused.

"He didn't spend three hundred years looking for my mother, so he could leave her side to fight someone else's war. He wouldn't be told, that he belongs to her, when that was not the point of it." he argued, and then glanced away for just an instant.

"You know who he was. How long he has searched, how much he has suffered. He has fought for far too long. I will ask no more of him." he decided, but Berterin cast a quick glance at his father, whom had remained silent.

"But-" he again started up, once more silenced. But not harshly.

"This is our fight. Not his..." he finished, and then stood before bringing his attention to Berin.

"Lord Berin, please have our orders issued. I will have the maesters tend to the messages." he said, and then started moving away.

"Certainly." he agreed, watching as Rychon left the chamber and headed up towards the maester's tower. Then he looked at Berterin, who seemed disheartened.

"Don't worry, son. We'll be al right." he consoled, and the young sentinel smiled weakly.

"I know. I was just thinking..." he replied, followed by a short silence.

"Are you afraid?" Berin asked, and their eyes met as the young man seemed to think on his words.

"I..." then he chuckled, looking away.

"Maybe a little bit..." he confessed, and Berin sat forward.

"It's al right, to be afraid. All men fear death, it's a natural emotion meant to keep us alive. But when you overcome that fear, it makes you brave. It makes you powerful." he encouraged. In the beginning, there was no concept of courage or cowardice. People simply did what they needed to, to stay alive. And then the first warriors chose to defy their natural instincts, facing their foes rather than running away from them. They might have gotten tired of running...

"Every time you left, you promised mother that you would return to her." Berterin recalled, having heard those same words time and time again over the years, and then looked back at his father.

"How do you know, that you will?" he asked, and Berin sighed.

"I don't." Berterin stared at him, his clear eyes confused. But then Berin laughed softly, with a shrug.

"I honestly don't. But, remembering that promise makes me want to keep it. Maybe holding on to those words, is what brings me home in the end." he said. That was the one promise he never wanted to break, and he would repeat it to himself endlessly when he felt lost.

"Have you ever thought, that you might not be able to keep your word?" Berterin asked, and Berin nodded.

"Many times. But in those dark moments, I had my will to sustain me, and my lord and brother to support me. We kept each other strong, and we brought each other home, until..." he paused for a moment. That was the one time, he couldn't do anything. And there was nothing to be done, now. But then he breathed in, discarding the dire thought and granting his son a confident smile.

"As will you." he said, and Berterin nodded slowly. Then he stood to leave the chamber.

"Come, we have assignments." he called, and the youngster rose to his feet and followed to issue the orders while most of the day continued as it otherwise would with the ladies working on their arts and lessons while small groups of soldiers started settling on the grounds around the village. More would come in time, and the force will grow while training and further preparations would proceed as normal. That evening they supped on rich poultry stew with cheese pastries, followed by plum pudding and warm custard along with press and mead amidst songs and stories, after which all retired to their chambers and Falgon again joined Claira in her room after she had taken her bath, leaving Summit next to the hearth of the lord's hall. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a soft, flowing white gown, holding a small blue bottle in her hands, and he knelt in front of her, examining the item.

"What is this?" he asked curiously, and she looked up with a shy smile.

"Cradle orchid extract..." she revealed, followed by a short, strained silence. She insisted on visiting maester Adlyn alone earlier this afternoon, and now recalled his instructions on its use, which must be followed exactly. With clear water, two drops when waking and one before bed. And with the full moon only, three drops both times. Her fingers tightened slightly around the small vessel, holding the inky blue liquid.

"Falgon... You're my husband. I... I want to give you children. I still can." she breathed, but could not hide the desperation in her clear blue eyes.

"Oh, my Claira." he knelt in front of her and gently took the bottle from her, setting it on the table next to them before bringing his hands back to hers, closing his powerful fingers around hers.

"My people, were never meant to survive. If Aegon the Conqueror did not destroy us, then time would have." he told. Thousands of years of isolation cast them down to where they were, and it would have taken thousands more to rise them up again, and even then it might have been too late. But her hands tightened in his as she smiled.

"You are proud, and powerful... They would have lived. They would have lived, had you been their king." she denied it. Had it not been for that single horrendous event, things may have been so much different. But he shook his head.

"No. They died, because I was their king." he sighed,

"Pride, makes us stand tall. But the taller you are, the harder you fall. Had the woman I once loved asked me to surrender then, I might have. But our pride, became our destruction. It's a tragic thing to admit to, but there you have it." he laughed softly, and she looked down. That wasn't true...

"This can't be the end. It can't... I don't want it to be..." she refused to believe it. He was the last of them. The only one. And a noble line. It couldn't be over, not like this... What was the point of that, then? Was he sent to her, just for this? Was he bound to hundreds of years to find her, and then spend the rest of eternity alone in the end? No... It couldn't... Then he moved forward, wrapping his arms around her and held her tightly, feeling her shudder against him, trying to hold back the tears. She'd suffered this longing before, and he didn't want to subject her to that darkness again.

"Al right. We'll try." he agreed, and then she laughed, her arms tightening around his neck, and he smiled. If she was barren like the maester had said, then nothing would change. If she wasn't, then who knows? It could take years, but they would address that when it came to them. Then he drew back and kissed her tenderly as her hands came back from his neck, gently gliding over his cheeks and into his hair, pulling him softly closer as his slid down her back. He drew away slightly, and cast the vial a quick glance.

"Have you already taken it?" a soft blush rose into her cheeks as she nodded, and he laughed.

"In that case, I hope that I will not disappoint you, your grace." it made her smile, and she leaned forward to hold him again.

"It might take a while, but if it can happen it will. If not..." his arms circled her, and he buried his face in her neck and hair.

"Then I will still have you." he whispered, not wanting her to feel that it was something expected of her. She wanted to, and it would be the greatest gift in existence if she could, but if it was not meant to be then it likely never will. But, they would live each day as it came to them, happy for any miracle that could be theirs, and grateful for all that they had. Then he kissed her as he discreetly freed the cord holding the dress bodice around her neck, allowing it to drop down to her waist. She smiled, her hands finding their way around his neck once more to bring him closer, and he continued to etch soft kisses down her neck and chest, over the sensitive mound of her right breast and along the length of her body as he released the ribbon around her hips that kept the fabric in place and lay her down on the silks, bringing her legs up to rest her feet on his bare back while her fingers wove into his hair. Short, sharp gasps and light whimpers filled the air around them as he awakened her, kneading her gently with his mouth while feeling her muscles tense and quiver to his touch, the skin becoming warm and moist and his hardened. Then he left her, followed by a disappointed moan and her whisper calling his name, but he smiled as he brought his lips up the length of her shivering body to meet hers, and while his body was closed over hers, he summoned the stars to her again.

Tiny droplets of snow drifted down from the heavens as white eyes looked up at the height of the castle where the walls glowed in the night. For thousands of years they had lay the way for those chosen by fate, and he wondered if they knew that the way their lives developed was influenced by entities they had very little knowledge of, if any. The Men of the Rain. The Hands of Fate. The Weavers of Destiny. The Spirits of Fortune. The Guides of Design. The Mysteries of the World, but no gods here... All fables and myths created by minds trying to understand an incomprehensible situation. But, it was a happy thing that they could share this one last time before the sun set on the world, and the long night swept over its lands. He felt for them, and despite their needed reservations, he had grown fond of the man who was the strongest of his element. The only one of them left. He had watched over his people ever since the twin kings came forth to reclaim their homeland, and long after. They became the most powerful people this world had ever seen, and would have remained so if not for that tragic night. Had the girl escaped, they would have endured, although diminished. But then she didn't, and it was all lost. Only the strongest survive death... The baby survived the frost, and it was now a part of her. The boy survived the strength of a voracious beast, as he was meant to. But, who could survive a sword through their heart on their own? He had to bring him back, and granted him protection from the unwanted aspects, until now. He couldn't protect him any longer. None of them, could protect them any more... If only...

"So, it has been set." his attention went back to the tall figure approaching out of the shadows, clad entirely in black with a thick wood staff in his left hand. Were it not for his motion, his presence would have remained unnoticed. He smiled, and then his eyes went back to the walls.

"Better than I had planned. Their bond is strong, the binding will be easy. Perhaps, if-" he started, but the low voice silenced him abruptly.

"There's no time for that, and you know it." he stood there, the human frustration gnawing at him as the stranger came silently closer to share his view. He was right, and he could not deny it.

"The shield will only form when the strongest of the elements combine." the stranger reminded, and he scoffed.

"I know that!" in the end, it didn't matter who the people were. The creation of the Atronach rested on their strengths, and their bonds. They needed powerful connections with the elements of their birth. Summer, Winter, Fall and Spring. Fire, Water, Earth and Air. And with each other during their lives before being claimed by the final element. Death. It had happened twice before, over the last fifteen thousand years. But with only two combined elements then, none had ever been as strong as these...

"If it wasn't for those damned monsters-" he continued, but again was silenced. His companion cared little for his arguments, and even less could be done to change it.

"They have swayed our path, twice. All that is left to us, is to lay down those stones." he told, very calmly. There was not a shred of emotion to him, no sympathy, no apathy. Only the path, and what was needed for it to continue. He had been so, since the beginning.

"You are cruel, Opposer. And unjust! He has endured a suffering that no other man will ever know, and still you wish to torment him?" he accused, watching as the mouth in the grey face pulled up in an amused smirk. Cruel. Unjust. Suffering and Torment. He had no uses for these, and didn't care for them. As long as the path was kept to.

"You grow fond of your elements, all of you. I do not blame you. You have failed to rid yourself of your human emotions. Yet, you name me cruel for sparing him a future not meant for him?" he questioned, followed by a long, heavy silence. Then the small man breathed out. Not meant for him... And, maybe it wasn't. Not really. But, it was still grievously wrong.

"He has come this far. Is... Is there no other way?" he asked softly, but had to watch the tall figure shake his head as he cast a glance at the height of the castle.

"Not now. If there were, would that not have been easier?" he said, no more affected than he'd been aeons ago; and then turned to walk away.

"We meet at the circle. They are coming." he announced, then Addam faced him, clutching the wood staff in his hand as he took a single shambling step after the tall figure, whom had for all his time been known as The Opposer, and the fifth element of death.

"Give him this one thing! Just this one!" he called out after him desperately, careless of his voice passing through the dark shadows of the forest surrounding them, but the tallest stopped, motionless for a moment.

"Please." he begged, waiting for a response. Any response. The Opposer then turned back with a sigh, still seeming to be indifferent, but with a kindness to the features that could be seen.

"I will allow him a small part of that world, but no more." he finally agreed, and then vanished.