(The Wall: Castle Black 10/13/298) Viserys III

The cold winds swept over him, caressing his shivering body in its frosty embrace, as he sat atop his small wooden stool. Even with the small fire set next to him, he could scarcely feel its warmth, and only felt the chattering of his teeth. He looked up to the watching moon, its blue form partially hidden behind encroaching dark clouds. Its soft azure light rested just above the faint orange glow of his small fire, and in the twilight, he saw great wisps of his hot breath dance in the air. Bundled up as he was in furs and leathers, Viserys Targaryen was a man most at home in the heat of the south, and he had never gotten used to the constant cold, but he endured for he had no other choice.

"Princeling! I'm here to relieve you," Waymar Royce shouted from down the way, startling him out of his thoughts. Coming from near the lift that brought Viserys' fellow black-brothers up to the Wall's snow-laden summit, the young man's voice quivered slightly in the deepening cold.

"Over here!" he replied, without looking in the direction of his friend's voice, the nickname and all variations therein having brought him some measure of annoyance as a reminder of his royal past. A strange chill brushed through the icy trench in which he sat overlooking the Haunted Forest with an equally stone-cold resolve. He brooded over Bloodraven's words, and quietly fumed at the lack of information the library of Castle Black had bequeathed unto him. He knew now that the Citadel of Old Town was his best bet and the only source of knowledge close enough wherein he could hope to find any answers of import. However, the Lord Commander and his grand-uncle had frustratingly not yet brought forth a reply to Viserys' request on joining the Order.

"No answer yet?" Waymar questioned as he sat on an empty stool, by his side, clad in his black collection of ring mail, boiled leathers, wool, and sable cloak. One look into Royce's grey eyes had assured Viserys that his friend asked in genuine curiosity, though some unknown emotion had been hidden within.

"No," he answered, turning back to look out into the forest far down below.

"Well, I'm sure they will come to their senses, and not let you go out to join the Citadel." He shot a look towards his brother and saw a ghost of a smile on his face. "What?" Waymar chuckled incredulously, grey eyes suddenly revealing the mirth he had hidden away behind his eyes. "You are the ablest swordsman in the bloody Watch, right up there with the Halfhand and Ser Alliser. Some say you are even as good as Ser Barristan himself! So what business have you wasting your talents down there with all those rickety old men, learning about what causes a man to shit, or piss, or sleep?"

"I have my reasons, Royce," he growled, though not out of anger to his brother, but out of the fact that he felt the same, and only Brynden's words had given him a reason not to.

"Oh really? Care to share?" the thin carpet of ice crunched underneath Waymar's feet as he moved to look at him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I did," Viserys warned, afraid it would be taken as Targaryen madness, instead of the truth. As much as his granduncle had assured him that he was not, he still did not take lightly to wild stories, even if he personally knew them to be true.

"Try me," Waymar's eyes focused on his own as if trying to will him to speak.

"No," he replied simply, remaining steadfast in his position of silence on the matter.

"Bah! You never kept secrets before, why now? What happened out there while we were separated, hmm?" Royce pushed.

'I've kept far too many secrets,' he wanted to laugh at the irony of Waymar's words but held his tongue. "Perhaps being near death shook me more than I thought it would?" he supplied a lie he thought believable enough. "Besides, even if I was as capable as Qhorin or Alliser, or was even the Dragonknight come again, we both know nothing happens beyond the wall anymore. Save snowstorms and the lot. Not for years now, Royce. Years. What use is swordsmanship against a damned blizzard and being frozen alive? If I have no enemies to use my skills on, then might as well sharpen my mind. The battle against ignorance is always being fought."

Royce squinted in suspicion then withdrew. "Hmph," he snorted. "Now you are starting to sound like that Dragonstone boy. Gods' damned know-it-all thinks he has an answer for everything."

He blinked, "Sho-Yu?"

"Whatever his name, that boy is a trifle arrogant," his black-brother continued, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"How? He rarely speaks to others," Viserys questioned, having never felt belittled by the boy during their conversations, few as they were.

"Oh, I know, but the few times I have had the honour of speaking with that little shit, it always felt like he was talking down to me."

"Haha," He couldn't help but laugh.

Waymar looked to him with narrowed eyes. "Find something funny, do you?"

"Yes. I've seen you speak to others in such a way, especially new recruits and even some of the veterans," He answered. "I'm fairly certain that I've heard the same things said of you."

"Point them out to me you ponce, and I'll have at them!" the Valeman held out clenched fists.

"Well," he chuckled. "The first would be the Dragonstone boy. Then me, then around half of the black brothers who have met you."

"Pfft. Whatever the boy's faults, do not confuse my dislike of him for dislike of Dragonstone. I appreciate the food, especially those 'fire flake' things, they certainly warm you up. Oh, and the clothing, of course, but from what I have seen so far of the people from there…" the grey-eyed young man lingered on his words, grimacing as he did so. "Well, they leave much to be desired. He and his guards are intolerable, as was that Paege girl from before."

He disregarded the fact that he himself had come from Dragonstone, but had refrained from pointing it out to the Valeman. Instead, his thoughts remembered the young girl and the actions he took in her defense. Her words, the day before she departed for Dragonstone, had remained with him and for whatever reason, he could not divine, it had made him feel worth something to someone other than his granduncle.

"Thank you," her voice had lacked the confidence it had held before, and at that moment he saw the look in her eyes. A look of pure innocence, one that reminded him that she was merely a scared little girl living in a harsh world.

As soon as the memory entered his mind, his heart wrenched. The burning reminder that he had a sister, just as young as the Paege girl, out there tore at him. A sister who was likely just as scared, and surrounded by those who would do her harm. Soon enough the dragon stirred.

"With all the knowledge they supposedly have at the Academy, you would think humility to be one of the lessons taught?"

"Humility!?" he hissed, rising from his small wooden seat. "The girl did not need to learn that lesson, Royce!"

"That was not my intent, I…" the third and youngest son of Lord Yohn Royce backpedaled, his eyes bulging out in realization. "I only meant that…" he stumbled out along his words and found no purchase.

"I know well what you meant," Viserys cut in, looking down and towering over the still sitting form of his black-brother, "but that does not make it sound any less infuriating."

"Viserys…" Waymar started, but Viserys was in no mood to have him continue trying to conjure up a proper reply.

"Say nothing, Royce," he glared at the younger man from the Vale. "You are an ass who doesn't think before he speaks. However," he exhaled, "you have given me an idea, and you have my gratitude for it." The warning had been clearly heard, for a look of shame had come upon Waymar's young face. Though his praise had been honest, the Valeman's thoughts seemed too entangled with the reprimand.

Waymar frowned and looked away, slender cheeks tensed in disgrace. "What do you mean?" he finally asked, before returning his gaze, relaxing his face as he did so.

"The woman's people are quite learned," Viserys let the statement hang in the air, almost forgetting his surroundings as he paced. The fiery anger subsided as quickly as it appeared, washed away in the conundrum of how to broach to the subject of the Others and the supposed monster stalking the Lady Azula's youngest daughter with the boy from Dragonstone. 'Without sounding mad,' he noted.

"Hmmm," he turned to Waymar, remembering the man had come to relieve him. "Did you encounter the Yi-Tish boy on your way here?"

"No, but I broke words with Will and he spoke of seeing the boy's guards lingering near the library," Royce called to mind.

"Strange," Viserys paused, having never recalled actually seeing the boy spend much time within the library since his arrival, though his granduncle had spoken otherwise. "He usually secludes himself in his quarters with his own books from Dragonstone. What is he doing in the library at this hour?"

"Haven't the foggiest," the grey-eyed man supplied, as he scuttled closer to the small fire which twirled along with the irregular chilly wind.

"Hmmm. Well, thank you anyways," he looked to Waymar and nodded. "I will take my leave," Viserys turned on his heel and made for the lift. "Keep warm, Royce, and don't let your foot live in your mouth!" he shouted, waving back to the Valeman, his thoughts focused elsewhere.

Waymar muttered a reply that was lost in the howling wind.

As he stalked towards the lift, a hulking form appeared in the narrow expanse, walking calmly down along the trench. The fully-armored form of the Dragonstone guard was unmistakable and he seemed in no rush to join him on the wooden contraption.

"Hail!" he shouted, waving to the man in the distance, before pausing a moment. The large man in Dragonstone plate displayed no reaction nor any type of signal. "Hail!" he cried once more, louder than the first. The man, helmeted as he was, seemed confused, having instead chosen to stop dead in his tracks. They watched each other silently from afar as the winds wailed, pelting them both with fine bits of snow that cut across Viserys' unarmored face like glass.

"Fu…k..g…W..n..d!" He heard Waymar's unintelligible cursing resonating from where he had come.

Moving his right arm to shield his head, the former Prince of the Seven Kingdoms stared at the armoured juggernaut, as he jerked his helmeted head to the side and stared out into the vast forest north of the wall. Feeling a tug at his senses, Viserys drew his eyes away from the strange man and looked out over the forested horizon. Long did he gaze, but after spotting nothing of interest, he turned back and saw the Dragonstone guard still looking out, whatever hints of confusion having all but disappeared. Seeming more like a statue of steel and flesh, than a mere man, the silent giant grew ever more imposing against the whiteness of the low trench.

'Kee-eeeee-arr!'

A sudden shrill call cut through the violent winds and startled him, causing him to whirl his head this way and that, searching for its mysterious source. In the paleness above he spotted a lone black figure gliding along the turbulent winds, circling the sky above as if the windstorm had been nothing more than a calm sea breeze. The figure dove down through the whirling icy mist and came to rest upon the armoured man's shoulder, revealing itself as an enormous black hawk with smoldering golden eyes that he immediately likened to the woman of Dragonstone.

"Azula," he whispered to no one but himself and was surprised when the perched shadow turned at his hushed words. It glared at him with the same intensity the woman had when she had cleaved through the royal fleet after he had been taken prisoner aboard her iron ship all those years ago. Viserys could not help but stare back, mesmerized by the burning orbs as they searched for something he could not fathom, but after a moment the bird seemed to lose interest and shrugged if one could imagine such a thing coming from a hawk. It continued looking outward towards the forest, and Viserys shook his head. "No, that's impossible."

The man continued his silent vigil alongside the feathered phantom, both of whom had given no inclination towards immediate distraction, save the bird's fleeting moment of apparent recognition with himself. Viserys finally turned and headed for the lift, a slight shiver running down his spine as he did so. The wooden thing creaked and moaned as he stood upon its sturdy, if old, oaken base. The winches and pulleys accompanied the whining wood with tired noises of their own, and together they shifted and sang, signaling his long descent.

The descent proved far more illuminating than he had originally anticipated. Bloodraven's warnings aside, he found himself thinking more on the Lady of Dragonstone. She had been the final nail in the coffin of Targaryen rule, and even without the boiling resentment her meddling had caused him to feel, he could not help but think.

'What if? What if she had appeared at King's Landing? Or Dragonstone? Would she have been enough to save us?' he wondered as he looked south, atop a far too slowly descending lift. All these questions he would ask himself and always the answer was the same. 'Yes.' Of all things he remembered of her, her cruelty and monstrous nature were seared into his mind. He had seen it, and as shameful it was to admit, Viserys had long ago come to realize that his father had been the same. 'They would have gotten along well,' he let out a bitter laugh. 'Would that the gods have sent her to us instead of the usurper? She would have saved us, and I could have my sister at my side. Azula would have crushed that damned traitor, Tywin Lannister, when he came into the city and smashed the rebel forces as they marched to the capital,' he clenched his hands at the thought. 'Though, what would she have done after? Would she and father have made a mockery of the seven, and commanded Elia to be set aside so a new bride could be given to Rhaegar? Or,' Viserys scoffed, correcting himself, remembering the woman's aggressive nature, 'so Rhaegar could be given to her?' He lingered on the thought a moment, before realizing what would likely have happened. His body nearly retched at the thought as it whispered venomously into his ear. 'She would have wanted me, in order to mould me into something I am not…' He looked at his hands, as they rested along the wooden railing of the lift, and cleared his apprehension of the imaginary scenario. "It wouldn't have mattered," he came to realize, his whisper lost to the wind, "as long as she was safe. Daenerys."

'Thunk!' the lift shook, as it hit solid ground.

He swung the wooden railing open and set off down the steps, turning left, and passing the sole guard whose name he did not know. The man was covered in furs and the air around him smelt of Dragonstone firewater, 'Huangjiu,' he recalled the name of the far too strong drink. Faint laughter could be heard coming from the common hall to his left, where a warm orange light seeped out from under the closed wooden doors. He passed beneath the shadow of the Hardin Tower, eerily cast by the blue moon, and took the old stone steps downwards into the vaults where the library lay in virtually silent company. Coming to the foot of the steps, he peered down the dimly lit corridor and heard drops of water echoing throughout the musty ancient hall. At the far end of the passage, past the four low-burning torch stands and single wooden chair, he spied the two skull-faced Dragonstone guards that Will had supposedly seen earlier, engaged in quiet conversation. He stepped forward, heading towards them with sure purpose, noticing the door to the library being slightly ajar.

"So what about the tanks?" one asked the other, both keenly aware that he had been present, but ignoring him just the same. "Think Lia will hit a breakthrough soon?"

"I doubt it," the other replied, his voice scratchy and coarse. "It's been years since the Fire Lord set her to the task, and she has yet to produce meaningful results."

"How long do you think before she does?"

"Hopefully soon," the rough-voiced one answered.

As he drew closer, he noted the torches at the two men's sides burning brighter than the others. It was then that the raspy one spoke to him. "Halt!" he set his palm forward. "What business brings you here gaijin?"

"I am here to speak with Sho-Yu, your charge," he countered respectfully.

The man looked at him, and beyond the black pits of his skull-helm, a sliver of gold twinkled in the torchlight.

"Let him in, Jah-Qin," a soft voice uttered from beyond the partially open door.

Jah-Qin stared at him a long moment before he lowered his hand and his already scratchy voice. "Yes, sir," he answered, moving aside, but grabbing his arm as he walked past. "Tread lightly, Targaryen."


The old wooden door creaked open and down the aisle of shelves filled with dusty tomes, scrolls, and books, he saw the young Yi-Tish boy, sitting alone at the center of the library with a trio of lanterns burning brightly at his side. A large stack of assorted books, some opened, and others not, surrounded the young man, along with a small teapot over a soft flame. Sho-Yu had not looked up and had appeared to be studiously writing down notes into a large, leather-bound, book with golden corners. As he grew closer he noted several of the books as having been ones he had read himself, concerning the Long Night and the Others. His hairs stood on end, as he reached down and pulled out a chair opposite the boy from Dragonstone. When he moved to sit, the boy placed a golden ribbon within the pages and shut his book.

A slight hint of annoyance was etched across Sho-Yu's youthful, if heavily foreign, features as he reached for a small shiny red cup beside the teapot. The boy lifted the small wooden handle of the teapot and poured himself a serving of the, still steaming, exotic leaf juice, before placing it back down. The boy sipped at his beverage while keeping a free hand just beneath the small ceramic container.

"Is this another social call, Targaryen? As you can see, I am quite busy," Sho-Yu's golden eyes glanced upwards from the bottom of the shiny cup and he shifted his hand, revealing a black teardrop flame emblazoned across its side. He set the cup aside and rested his arms protectively across the leather bound book, staring him straight in the eyes and awaiting an answer.

"Not as such," he relaxed within his hard wooden seat as best he could. "I was," he looked toward the familiar stack of books, "coming to speak on the Long Night and the Others."

"Oh," the boy's eyes narrowed and he began tapping his fingers across the book's spine. "And what makes you think I have an interest in such topics?"

"Other than the books I have found you buried in, nothing whatsoever," he kept his face straight, watching as Sho-Yu looked down and pursed his lips. The flames swayed slightly in the nonexistent wind, and he suspected why that was.

"Leave the humor to the fools, Targaryen," the boy almost smirked lifting his eyes once more.

"And leave the stern expressions to the adults, Yu," he chuckled, mentally wiping off the sweat that had formed on his brow. 'This might be easier than I thought!'

"Hmph," the Yi-Tish boy snorted. "So, what revelations have you uncovered during your previous foray into these early records?" he gestured towards a book with partially rotten edges, it's complete degradation only being kept in check by the utter cold of the library. "And don't act surprised. I know you had been down here the past few nights, and seeing as the books before me have noticeably less dust on them than the rest, this leaves me to surmise that they had been the objects of your attentions while you had been down here."

"Nothing springs to mind," he retorted, brushing off the shock. "Though I will say that after the first few books, you should learn all you need to. The Others came south with armies of the dead and laid waste to everything below the neck…"

"Where thousands died, frozen in their homes, in the fields, and so on," the young Dragonstone boy waved his hand contemptuously at the summary. "I've heard this story before and that's all these accursed books tell me of the subject. Stories like that were a silver a dozen in the old world. I need facts, not stories. Bah! Maybe the detachment sent to the Citadel will be met with success?" Sho muttered the last under his breath.

"That was before being pushed back into the far north…" he continued, hoping to dissuade the boy from dismissing the accounts completely, though he had made note of there being Dragonstone numbers in Old Town.

"By some supposed hero, I hear?" the sarcasm dripped freely from Sho-Yu's words. "And this 'Bran the Builder' constructed the Wall," the boy scoffed. "Yes, I've heard those. Madness, I tell you. As if I would believe a tribe of wild men could build something like this?" Sho-Yu looked at their surroundings to emphasize the point. "My predecessors read as such and reported them as nothing more than the fanciful tales of primitive peoples. Or would have, had this damned monstrosity of a construction hadn't been here. We have yet to explain the nature and origins of the Wall to my Fire Lord's satisfaction."

"And what if the Wall hadn't been here?" he wondered.

"Then we wouldn't be here," the Dragonstone child presented a look of indifference as he shrugged. "The Fire Lord would not have wasted men and materials here had this been some reasonably-sized barrier against simple barbarians. But no, this is a wall that rivals only one other. And that wall firmly resides within the old world, held by long hated enemies. The thought that our old enemies had followed us made the Fire Lord grow cautious enough about it to warrant an investigation. She is not one to disregard any threat to her people or the Seven-Kingdoms, no matter how unlikely."

"So your Lady Azula believes there is truth to the tales?" He couldn't help but give the Lady of Dragonstone some small measure of respect for her supposed stalwart defense of the Seven-Kingdoms. But even so, he knew better than to take her 'charity' at face-value. The boy remained silent, golden-eyes looking him up and down.

"Not as much as you appear to," Sho-Yu squinted. "Have you something to say?"

"You wish for facts, and I can offer none. But if you still care to hear, I would oblige the request." he reared forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the table and enmeshing his fingers.

"What do I have to lose?" he sighed, waving for him to continue.

"What if I told you that I was warned on the return of the Others?" Viserys looked to the young man as he crossed his arms and reclined his body along the chair. The apathetic attitude had given him pause before a nagging feeling at the back of his mind urged him on.

'Tell him,' a faint voice whispered to him, though whether it had been of a man or woman, he could not discern over the suddenly loud popping of the fireplace near the end of the library.

"Oh? And who was this mysterious informant?" Sho-Yu lifted a brow, unshaken by the noises of the flame.

"A man from my history. A relative of maester Aemon and I. His name was, is, Brynden Rivers. Also known to some as Lord Bloodraven. He was a former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, several decades ago, while Maester Aemon was young."

The boy rested his palm across the side of his neck, bored eyes locked on to his as he spoke. "And I assume Maester Aemon can confirm this?"

"He can," Viserys responded, hopeful that he might be able to get through to Dragonstone after all.

Sho-Yu frowned, a knowing frown it looked like to Viserys. "And I assume he can also explain how exactly a hundred-or-so-year-old man can survive out there, alone, in that frozen wasteland?"

"Well, he wasn't alone…" Viserys searched the boy's golden irises for something, anything that would show this wasn't some elaborate jest of his, but found naught but boredom dusted with a soft twinkle of intrigue. "He had numerous children of the forest assisting him."

Sho-Yu coughed. "You mean the little people who lived in the trees?"

"Yes," he winced.

The boy reclined even further, tilting his chair on its back legs, bringing his arms down across his belly, and resting his feet on the table, though taking care to avoid the books. "And where did you meet them?"

"Somewhere along the foot of several great Weirwood trees, a child of the forest led me to a cleft in the hillside, though I do not remember much more of my surroundings. The sudden blizzard had denied me clear viewing of anything more than an arm's length away. That said, I did eventually find myself within a cave surrounded by other children, its dark paths were littered with animal bones and the like."

"Did you perhaps think of bringing one with you?" Sho-Yu questioned.

"What? The bones?"

"No, you fool, a child of the forest."

He narrowed his eyes, "I was a little distracted by the absurdity of the situation at the time."

"Hmph, whatever. Continue," the boy motioned, then interlaced his fingers across his stomach, a shadowed look overcoming the previously indifferent expression.

"I was led along a dark tunnel by one of the children named 'Leaf' until I came upon a cavern with a deep pit. A sole rocky bridge stretched across the chasm where I was met by Ser Brynden and the unconscious forms of my brothers," Sho-Yu's face remained unmoved, though Viserys felt the heat of the room change to some degree.

"And what did he tell you?"

"He warned me of the Others," he moved closer, feeling a sudden urge to whisper the word. Above their heads, he heard the soft whistling of the cold winds. "He told me to warn your Fire Lord of the Others and to cease entering…" he hesitated, not knowing what the words, 'the place where the gods roam,' would mean to the boy.

"Cease? Cease what?" Sho-Yu leaned in, abandoning his former uninterested demeanor.

"To cease entering the place where the gods roam," he blurted out, refusing to think on it more should he find his mind changed.

The Yi-Tish boy withdrew, eyes turning sharp as knives, though he remained silent.

"He spoke of it alerting the Great Other, causing it to move in unpredictable ways," Sho-Yu's young face assumed a very guarded, very dark, countenance that appeared to age him in the flickering candlelight. The expression changed to one of urgency when Viserys uttered his next words. "He said it wanted the Lady Azula's youngest child…"

The candles flared brightly, and the boy stood up. "Can you find your way back to this cave?"

"I do not know, I can find where we were before the blizzard came upon us, but not the precise location of the cave," he replied at Sho-Yu's unexpected question and rose up with him.

"You'll have to do better than that," Sho-Yu came to face him, standing a head shorter than himself, but appearing far larger from the shadows cast against the bookshelves and stone wall. "Tomorrow I will petition the Lord Commander to organize another ranging past the wall where you and your brothers were last. If he declines, then we will go."

"We?" he was confused.

"Yes, you will be coming with us. Mormont owes Dragonstone more than he thinks, and to deny a formal request from Dragonstone, without providing a compromise, would be an ill move indeed. However, the compromise would be simple, one he could not deny," the formerly young face had grown hard and cold as stone.

"That I accompany you," Viserys realized.

"Yes, and if your assistance awards us success in determining the true threat from those ancient creatures, then who knows what kind of reward the Fire Lord would have awaiting you?" the piercing molten pools burned into him.

'Daenerys,' he thought, then recalled Bloodraven's words, "Do not seek this place out, and purge it from your memory forever."

"The Bloodraven did not wish me to go back," Viserys warned the boy from Dragonstone.

"The Fire Lord does not care what Bloodraven 'wishes,' she cares about what he 'knows,'" Sho-Yu replied. "Guards!" he barked.

The two men, from outside the doors, burst into the library at the sudden shout. "Sir?" they searched the room and appeared confused.

"Help me put these books away, then I must go to my chambers to meditate," the men saluted with palm over fist and set about putting things in order. Sho-Yu shot a look towards him, before taking him by the arm, pulling him towards a nearby bookshelf. "I trust I need not explain why we did not just have this conversation?"

"Because we would sound like madmen?" he answered, knowing precisely what the boy was implying. Viserys would sound like a madman, but the boy would not, for Sho-Yu would not speak on it unless the Lady Azula had commanded it. And he was unsure whether or not she would command it, for she was 'the Butcher of Shipbreaker Bay,' and she was unpredictable.

"Exactly," the boy responded.