A/N: Here it is, the Season 8 rewrite. If you've clicked on this and not read the Season 7 rewrite, A Forging of Alliances, you should read that first. You don't have to, if you really don't want to. It's not illegal. I won't come to your house tonight and hold you hostage until you read every last sentence of the previous part, and if you refuse, dig a hole in your back garden and bury you alive. I wouldn't do that. I'm not that sort of the person. I only recommend it because you'll benefit greatly in your experience of reading this story because you did that.

With that out of the way, I feel no need in the delaying further. I shall shut up now, and let you wonderful readers get on with your reading. By all means leave a comment telling me if I don't make Sweet Robin Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Azor Ahai by the end of the story, it is completely worthless, and I've wasted over two years working on this and the Seaosn 7 rewrite, because I would agree with you.

Prologue

Not once in his fifty long years had Bennis seen the horses so restless, and he was much the same. After spending the afternoon away from the farm, heading to town for a certain medicine from the town healer, he was on edge and in need of unwinding.

He boarded Aimee in the stables attached to the farm house, having cleared out her pen and restocked her hay & water. She was his best draft horse, five years old, with strong legs. That was why Bennis had ridden her into town, Aimee was the best of his four horses for traversing the thick snow covering the roads. As he closed the door to her pen, she seemed jittery and unsure. Bennis frowned, his hairy brow furrowing, and pulled his coat tight around him, before turning away from the stable and looking up at the sky.

It had been pitch black for a week, with no moonlight or stars to light the sky.

For the last few weeks, he'd heard talk in town of what was happening in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. The Kingsroad was crowded more so than it should be during winter, and the people on it were heading north, not south, as would be expected, carrying what arms and food they could. The same talk claimed that the new King in the North was calling all the people in the realm to his castle, marshalling them to fight the White Walkers. "Bah," he said to the man who'd told him about it. "I don't believe a word of it. The White Walkers are monsters I told my boys about to make them behave when they were young." But with the sky being as it was, and Bennis knowing the stories of the Long Night, he couldn't help thinking the talk of White Walker being real were true.

Slowly, he walked to the barn, where the larger of two outdoor food stores sat, affixed to the side. It was not a long distance, but the snow made it take much longer than it should, falling calmly from the sky. Inside the barn were his cows. So far this winter, five of them had died to the cold. And I have been lucky, he thought, half-glad, half-grim. Bennis knew that Old Jack, whose farm was a few miles south along the edge of the God's Eye, had lost all but one of his own cattle. It made Bennis grateful he had lost so few.

From the food store, he picked up some salted beef and turnips for dinner. His wife Dalla wasn't like to have got it started; she'd stop making it ahead of his return from town because she never knew how long he'd be in arriving back thanks to the snow. Having collected the food, Bennis made the slow walk back to the house.

Once inside his home, he kicked the snow off his boats. "Dalla," he called into the house. Candles were alight on the main table, and the hearth was burning bright orange, smoke billowing up the chimney. Their home was a relatively large thing; one storey, made of stone with a wooden roof. There was a main room, two large side rooms and a pantry at the back of the house. The main room was a dinning and kitchen area, with the two side rooms being his & Dalla's bedroom and a guestroom. In the past, he and Dalla had slept in the main room, letting their four boys have the side rooms, but they'd all left home years ago.

Their eldest, Hoster, had left home to find work elsewhere in the Riverlands, and the last Bennis & Dalla had heard from him had been before the war. His second eldest, Alder, had been among the men who Bryden Tully had been holding Riverrun with less than a year ago, and the last letter he'd sent was to inform Bennis & Dalla that he would be spending the foreseeable future in a dungeon cell. As for Martyn and Harald, the twins, the former had died early in the war, before the Hand of the King had been executed, cut down by the men of the Mountain That Rides when they'd raided the town; the latter had been sent up to the Wall before the war, for theft, by Ser Garrett, the knight who collected Bennis' taxes and fifteen percent of his yearly harvest. When there is one.

The Gods had not been kind to Bennis with regard to his sons. He'd never done anything so bad in his life that he might deserve such punishment, but it would seem his farm, which had been cared for by his father and grandfather, was condemned to fall under the ownership of Ser Garrett. It had not been an agreement Bennis had come to eagerly, but the fact was, unless Alder was allowed to leave his imprisonment and return home, there was no one else Bennis could give his farm to. And he's gone north on the Kingsroad, so if he dies up there, it goes to no one and withers away to time.

Dalla emerged from the pantry with a weak smile on her face. She was nothing compared to a highborn lady, but she was beautiful to Bennis, wearing a dress as thick as she could make it, with long brown hair and green eyes. Her face was showing signs of age, but Bennis would only ever see the young woman who he'd fallen in love with at his uncle's wedding, a distant cousin, probably fourth or fifth.

"Did you get the medicine?" she asked.

Bennis nodded. "You were lucky," he said, walking over to her. "It was the last bottle the healer had." He pulled the bottle from his saddlebag which was hanging at his side, the meat and vegetables from the storeroom in a basket carried by his left hand.

Dalla took the bottle and smiled. "Thank you, my love." She kissed him on the lips, her own were soft and dry, before walking across the room to enter the guestroom.

Bennis placed the basket carrying their food on the floor by the kitchen area, and began stocking the firewood that would heat the hob once alight. Next, he put two metal cooking pots on the hob, ready for Dalla to cook up the stew which would be their dinner for the evening; though whether or not it was actually evening, Bennis had no way of telling. It could be the middle afternoon for all he knew, what with the sun and moon not showing themselves.

He sat himself at the table, the wooden chair squeaking as he put his weight onto it, after pouring himself a cup of water from a jug. At the very least, Bennis was comfortable. It was another minute or so before Dalla re-emerged from the guestroom.

"How is he?" Bennis asked as she crossed the room, heading toward the kitchen area.

"Much better than he was," Dalla answered, stopping at the table to face her husband. "He pushed through the worst of the fever by himself, so the medicine is just to get him through the last stretch. I'm just surprised he hasn't got a worse infection. The Gods were just kind to him, the poor man."

It hadn't been a day into this unyielding night: Bennis was clearing snow off the main paths of the farm when a man had come stumbling toward him from the distance, wearing nothing but his trousers, a thin shirt and poor boots, his left eye a fleshy crater, bleeding awfully, and the nostril on that side of his face cut open. Seeing the man, Bennis had dropped what he was doing and brought him to the house, and Dalla immediately started tending to him. He managed to get out a few words in amongst the screams of pain, telling her that he'd been attacked for his horse and his steel, and that he'd been going north. However, Dalla told Bennis of her doubts: his breath stank of strong rum, and what words he got out were slurred.

"A drunk," Bennis stated bluntly when she told him. "Probably got in a fight with the wrong person and thought to spin a story that made him look less foolish. Bah, either way, the Gods sent him to us, so it's us who have to look after him now."

And they had been, very well it would seem.

When the stew was ready, Dalla poured herself a bowl, as well as one for Bennis and a third for their guest, only when she took it to the guestroom, she came right back out, followed by their guest, who was finally back on his feet after nearly a week in bed. He had been bald and beardless when he had come across Bennis, but brown hair was growing back. Covering his head were cloth bandages Dalla was replacing every day; one layer was wrapped diagonally around his head, covering his wounded eye & nose, another went around his forehead, keeping the other layer in place.

"You alright lad?" Bennis asked. The man only offered a nod as he slowly followed Dalla to the table. She set down the bowl she held and pulled out a chair for him. The man sat. "Can you finally tell us your name?"

"Hal, ser," he answered, weakly, as Dalla took her seat. "Forgive me, for my quiet."

"No need for forgiveness, lad," Bennis told him, looking at the golden eye which was left to Hal. "You've survived a cruel attack, and you're allowed to handle it however you feel. I'm just glad you found us of all people to look after you. The world's got meaner in the last few years, and there aren't as many people willing to help strangers any more." And Bennis meant what he said. This man might've been a drunk, but no man deserved to lose an eye for such a flaw.

"Thank you, ser, truly. And you, ma'am." Hal faced Dalla. "There aren't words I can say to express how much your help has meant."

"And we are grateful," Dalla said. "Perhaps we can get some strength in you with this stew. After all, all you've had is honey and water since you've been here."

Hal nodded. "May I lead the prayer, ma'am? I would not presume to do so in your household without your consent."

"Of course you can, Hal."

The three of them clasped their hands together, bowing their heads and closing their eyes.

"Oh, seven who are one," Hal started, "thank you for giving us this meal. With the realm being as it is, with winter upon us, each meal is a blessing, and it is by your grace that we eat at this table, still here to see another day. Thank you for bringing me to this godly man and wife whom helped me when I was in need. If only all people would do the same."

With the prayer finished, they began to eat. The stew had cooled enough to be eaten comfortably, and Bennis took each mouthful slowly, savouring the taste before swallowing. He drank his water, and smiled whenever he looked up at his wife. Hal ate the slowest of the three of them, chewing the meat & vegetables throughly before swallowing, as if he did not want to risk upsetting his stomach.

At the end of the meal, as Dalla collected the bowls to be washed, Hal looked at Bennis and asked him, "Can you take me to see the lake tomorrow?"

"Why do you want to, if you don't mind my asking?" Bennis replied.

"I like the water, the look of it," Hal said. "Even it won't be very interesting in this darkness that is plaguing us, I feel like a trip will do me some good, if only in spirit."

"That sounds a good idea," Dalla said from the washing pot. "With the medicine and some sleep, your fever should be cleared up by midday tomorrow. Getting some fresh air will help you."

And so that was that.

Bennis went to bed beside Dalla that night, holding her close so as to share each other's heat. When he woke, he saw to all his usual jobs before returning to the house to eat. Dalla cooked up some bacon and boiled egg, and it went down a treat.

Taking Hal to the God's Eye was a quick journey, it had to be said. Following an old track Bennis knew by heart, they each rode a horse out to the water, though none of them seemed to like Hal that much. The lake was as black as the sky, stretching out for miles. Having lived next to it all is life, the novelty of the God's Eye had worn off long ago for Bennis, but Hal seemed to take in the unimpressive sight with a level of satisfaction Bennis would've found in finishing a hard day's work. As soon as they had arrived at the water's edge, they turned back again, Hal having seen what he wanted to see.

That night at dinner, Hal asked Dalla when she thought he could be on his way.

"Hard to say," she replied, after swallowing a mouthful of stew. "I still want to keep an eye on you, just in case you get a worse infection or another fever."

Hal frowned. "I don't want to be a burden on you any more than I've already been," he admitted.

"Oh no, no, no." She reached to him, offering her hand to be held. "We are glad to have you. Please don't think you've been a burden on us."

Hal offered a timid smile. "Okay."

And then came a knock on the front door.

Bennis immediately asked his wife, "Are you expecting anyone, Dalla?"

Dalla put her spoon down on the table, standing up. "No. And I can't think who would be knocking at this time." Bennis watched as his wife went to the door and opened it. Standing outside was a tall man, wrapped up in a cloak and scarf, his head covered in neat hair. "Can I hel–"

She could not get the rest of her sentence out before the man pulled out a knife and plunged it upwards into her throat.

"NO!" Bennis shouted, jumping to his feet and running round the table. But Hal stood up, blocking the way, as Dalla's body fell to the floor with a thud. Bennis tried to side-step Hal, but the younger man took hold of him around the waist, spinning around and throwing him onto the floor. Bennis let out a grunt as he hit the stone, facing the direction of the door.

"Give me that knife," Hal demanded of the man at the door, who said not a word as he complied. "Look for a wayn. There are horses in the stables." The man walked away.

"Dalla," Bennis said helplessly as he watched a red puddle forming underneath his wife, her body lying still on the ground.

"It's a shame, really," Hal said coldly, looking down at Dalla. "She was a very nice woman, and I don't think I'd have made it, weren't it for her."

"Who are you, you evil bastard!" Bennis demanded.

Hal looked down at him, grinning, his shiny white teeth on full display. "No one that need concern you." He knelt down. "Only a passer-by on your way to the grave, though I can't say I'll see in the afterlife. I'm going to live forever." Bennis tried grabbing Hal's wrist, but he had not the strength to match the younger man. The cold steel bit into his neck, and Bennis felt all his stength leave him as the blood poured out of the wound.

The last thing he saw before slipping away into darkness was the golden eye of the wolf he'd let into his home, glistening in the light of the fire.