Theme song: "Dreams", Fleetwood Mac
Kinvara I
The storm was only beginning. The wind was howling in the night, coming with the grey rain.
Everything was grey in this country. Grey the earth, grey the sea. Grey again the stones of their castle, each piece barely recognizable from the others. No true color could be seen. No red, yellow and blue. Not like it was when she was home. She had once been joyous by nature, always seeing the good in people, the world in general. Now, so much older and so much wiser, she still had to say that such a gloomy atmosphere wasn't to her taste.
Kinvara shook her head from the seat she had taken near the window. She was the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom. She had to go wherever the Lord told her to go. Wherever His chosen had chosen her to go.
"Why isn't she answering?"
The voice of Aegon Targaryen came thundering across the walls of the old castle of Pyke. The bricks did not break from it, but still, it was a monstrous thing to see, Kinvara thought as he hit the table with his fists closed and began to pace nervously around it.
"Does she think I'm a fool?" He continued, shaking his head with frustration.
"She thinks you're dead, your Grace," intervened Yara Greyjoy with a bored tone as she looked at her nails on one of the corner. "As we all thought."
"Well here I am, now." He said, glowering. "And I'm not here to wait for one foolish girl to make her decision. Nor for the usurper to finally notice me."
If he hadn't already, the High Priestess thought. And the sooner, the better.
"I've known hunger. I've known fear. Now, I will take what is mine." He continued triumphally like some mummer reciting verses.
As he had. Since his childhood, they all had been there to make him learn what he had to do, what he had to say. But then, even the best education could not hide nor temperate such a temper.
She rolled her eyes.
He had blood of the dragon, alright. But it had been so diluted that this fire was only talk, no courage.
But still, he was important and she had to guide him. To shape him into the form of a true dragon.
"We have an ally at Winterfell, your Grace" Yara intervened.
"Good. Good. " He said angrily, with a hint of nervousness in his voice. "who is he? Why didn't he bring her to me?"
'Maybe because he doesn't work for you, your Arseness' She could almost hear Yara Greyjoy reply in her head. 'That man only works for his interest, which could change at any moment.'
Harrold Hardyng was an interesting piece in the game that was about to be played. A wild card, easily swayed but never tamed. And with him and the other things that were setting into place, so many drama could come… All the possibilities were mesmerizing.
She was not Quaithe, but still, there were things she could guess. Things she could see.
Like the shadow of a man coming from the North, growing with love, hate and despair. Coming for one woman. Bringing chaos with him. A shadow she only knew too well, for she had seen him in her dreams.
Like snakes fighting each other under two suns of Dorne, all fangs out till their venoms tainted the sand.
And a hero, uniting them for the last fight.
A hero… or maybe…
But there were still things to settle before that, she thought. So many things… One man remained to be found, in all this misery… But was he ready to be found?
The voice of Aegon interrupted her thoughts.
"Must I really marry her?" He said, like a petulant child, though he appeared like a grown man. "I'm tainting my lady mother's memory with a bitch, and she still didn't answer!"
"Sansa Stark is a clever girl", Yara replied, her hands linked on the small of her back. "She won't engage herself and her country until she sees what could be gained for it."
This seemed to make the young King-to-be even more in fury.
"Gained? I am the rightful heir to the Iron Throne!"
"Which had been burned. Now her brother rules."
She was going to wake the dragon, Kinvara thought. One, two…
"I will burn that bitch's hellhole if she doesn't answer back!" He swore. "Usurpers, all of them."
"But you need her, your Grace."
"Why didn't we contact the prince of Dorne? Dorne had always been our natural ally. Dorne was my lady mother's home. Jon had always said…"
"Ser Jon Connington is dead, your Grace." Yara cut him.
"May the lord of Light guards him." Kinvara added.
A good man, though maybe misguided by a passion that he never had power to fulfill.
"Jon honored the Seven Gods." Aegon's head was bowed, as if too heavy from the memory of his former guardian.
"But you do not, my king. Not any more." The priestess said, raising from her chair and stepping closer to Aegon Targaryen.
He stopped suddenly, looking at her, transfixed. His eyes didn't stop at her face though, they were attracted to the curves that were undulating under her red dress.
He wanted her. That as easy to see. A small fire was always attracted to a stronger one. And she knew how to use it to get what she wanted.
He was an easy boy, but a boy nonetheless.
He looked elsewhere, faltered by her interruption. But then he continued, pressing on the table in front of which he had turned. He did not dare to look back, for she could burn him. The way a naïve man looking for adventures could burn for a woman.
"My lord father had dishonored my lady mother by running off with a Stark bitch. Must I really lower myself to that point with another?"
"You're not your father, my King" Kinvara said, caressing his hair with a tender smile. "And she's not just any Stark."
Aegon didn't reply, but she could she he was not happy. His nails carved circles on the table, and blood was beginning to stain it.
Such a waste of a good blood, she thought.
"Go to sleep, my King," She said to him softly in his ear. "You'll find more relief, I believe, in what is waiting you in your sheets…"
He turned to her, suddenly, with hope in his eyes.
"Will you come too?"
She looked briefly at these lips who didn't really tempt her. He was indeed pretty, that little dragon, with his silver hair and purple eyes. But this wasn't actually what she was after…
"… Later, my king," she said. "Later."
He sighed, then went away, maybe trying to appear more dignified than a kicked puppy. Which seemed an objective hard to achieve.
When he left, Yara sat abruptly on the main chair, and this time, it was a sigh of annoyance that came through her lips.
"Your pretty boy is all fire," She said. But I have to admit that I expected something else, from our previous correspondences."
Kinvara could only agree with that, for she had spent whole months with him, after he'd been found in a tavern, lamenting that he could have had the Golden Company's Support had the Mad Queen, Cersei Lannister, not taken it from him with her damn gold. Jon Connington had been there at that time, trying to shut him up, for who knew who could report such thing?
"He's still in training." She said without batting an eyelash. "You expected Daenerys Targaryen, chosen of Rh'llor"
Yara shrugged, leaning on the chair.
"Well, he is supposed to be her nephew."
Kinvara smiled with humor, as if what had been said was a funny joke to her.
Yara sighed.
"If the Spider was alive," she said. "He would have crowned him right away. Such a foolish boy."
"The Spider knew. And he let him rot once he saw that there was a more powerful and faster option."
Yara sneered.
"Loyalty for the little people, my ass."
"But he's still powerful." Kinvara only said, looking at the storm that was still brooding. "We still talk about him."
"Then let's do not."
One minute of silence passed, then two. Until Kinvara saw that Yara could not hold it any longer.
"Where is she?"
She looked away, toward the storm. She smiled once again, more lightly. More determinate.
"Somewhere where she can find her strength. Somewhere where she can serve justice."
That was not the answer that her friend needed. But that was the only one she could make, with that little raven still out there.
"Ten months. Ten long months waiting, making curtsies at this little king while gathering ingredients for rebellion, all of that?"
Yara sighed, then settled more deeply into her chair.
"I thought this would lead to something. I wasn't expecting looking after a boy who's never had enough hair on his chest to be shaved." Then, after a period of silence, she added, sorrow piercing finally in her tone. "I feel like I'm stuck in here. Waiting. Waiting for something that might never came. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. "
"Be patient, my friend," She said to appease her. "Our time will come"
Yara only sent her a wary look.
"I heard Jon Snow was brought back by one of you, old witch."
"When Jon Snow was brought back his soul was not ready to leave." Kinvara said calmly "When the dragon arrived, she had already decided to leave. It's difficult to bring back somebody who wants to leave."
"Why wouldn't she?" Yara protested. "She had everything! She had won the throne!"
"But she lost her heart in the way," replied simply the priestess.
Angrily, Yara kicked lightly one foot of the nearest chair. She could not understand, Kinvara realized. She had never truly given her heart to anyone.
"Damn bastard. Then why bring her back at all?" She continued, irritation on her tone.
Kinvara looked straight at the ruler of the Iron Islands.
"Because her destiny has not been fulfilled yet."
Like so many. But the Lord of Light had decided. And she was really glad it happened here, in her old temple of Volantis. That she would get to see the rebirth of the chosen of R'hllor… What a great honor it was.
Yara sighed, exasperated.
"What is she doing, now? Roaming through the kingdom on a dragon's back, as a damn fucking ghost?"
"Some debts must be paid. And the ones that are filled with love and hate are the hardest to collect."
"But the most satisfying, I gather."
Kinvara said nothing, for she knew too much. An air of melancholia came to her. Oh, all the difficulties that were to come… But her queen had chosen. And the price for fire and life had to be paid.
But would she be strong enough to do it? Broken heart for broken heart, death for death. All for the creation of a myth. Death may have brought her a new strength, but on the matter of a heart, nothing could be truly presumed.
However, she trusted R'hllor to guide her decision. And that faith was what brought her here now, after so many days trying to appease that baby dragon, to coax him to find Daenerys' Targaryen former allies, when all he wanted to do was to invade King's Landing.
That proposal to that little queen was only a beginning, and would soon meet with a quiet refusal. But then, when trouble will come, how could she refuse?
She had seen it in the flames. A paper signed by an elegant hand. Blue eyes meeting purple eyes as fire surrounded all.
Yes, only the beginning.
And no pretender hiding in a raven could change that, she reflected as she saw it looking at her with grey eyes before leaving.
She said nothing to Yara, but she only smiled. Now he knew. Now he could fear. If such a man could feel anything. And fear would lead him to find Jon Snow. And then… every piece will come in place.
"Are you sure about it?" Yara said. "That it would work?"
Kinvara nodded.
"And pretty boy?"
"He's only a piece," she said. "In a game he can't comprehend."
"And… Sansa Stark"
The priestess smiled, the image of a man wandering in the snow coming to her mind.
"She has a role to play." She said, sipping her wine. "And after that…"
After that… There was so many things that could happen. Who knew? Heart for heart, betrayal for betrayal. The circle never ended, the wheel never was broken.
Well, for the moment, she thought.
Yara continued.
"Did he see her?"
"He saw what he wanted to see." Kinvara replied. "he saw the dragon and heard her voice telling him he was the rightful heir, and that she gave up her claim for him."
Yara laughed loudly. "He had actually believed it, had he?"
The high priestess only smiled. But Yara wasn't finished.
"So, what do we do now, with him?"
Her fingers danced on the hard and cold stone of the window sills, as she saw the storm becoming more intense. Then, she turned back and got closer to the fire.
Such a beautiful fire, big and strong, with only few blue shades. A deadly fire, she could easily make hers, and that could destroy everything on that island.
"We wait." She finally said. "For trouble to actually become chaos."
Yara stood up, seeming finally revigorated.
"Can't we add some troubles in the way?"
The high priestess smiled amusingly.
"Like you already have, my friend."
"I had a few terrible months," Yara replied nonchalantly.
Kinvara nodded, then looked once again at the fire, that was, little by little, forming the shape of a woman. The shape of a princess seeking justice and recognition. She wondered what she could do now, that little princess of sand and snakes.
Then an image of her queen came to her, her expectant look turned toward an iced waterfall, as a man came from it.
That did not happened yet. But soon…
"He'll do the right thing at the end." She said, as if to reassure herself. "And so will she."
Yara intervened.
"Does he know? Pretty boy? "
Kinvara smirked.
"She was the one to tell him to go."
Yara's eyes lightened up as understanding came to her.
"Then it means she has a plan."
The priestess looked at the fire until it hurt, eyes sparkling with expectations and extasy.
"A storm is coming, my friend,." She said. "and the fire goes with it."
Yara smirked.
"And the sea. Don't forget the sea."
Kinvara only smiled more softly. Then laughed, truly, for the first time in months.
"We serve the same Queen."
Yara smirked. "That, we do"
For the night was dark and full of terrors.
How true was that, she thought as her hands got closer to the flames. At least, she had the fire to be their light.
...
Hello!
I hope you liked it. Do not hesitate to tell me what you think!
Next chapter will be Arianne Martell's