Season 1 - Epilogue: …and Darkness
Forward: Again, special thanks to Rainsfere for his help editing and proof reading this chapter. Also, the chapters will have a small title rework to be listed as 'episodes' and 'seasons' to avoid confusion and to better separate storyline events.
The Night of Eddard's Passing – The Red Keep
The Lannister Family Meeting
Tywin sat at the head seat of the Small Council table, his sharp gaze looking over his two sons and daughter. They had been sitting there for half an hour, not a single word being said the whole moment as he stared sternly to them all, mainly Cersei. The large windows of the room were open to let air in, though with it came the distant clamor of the city, muffled yells and chants filling the air as smaller riots or parties were being thrown in the streets.
Jaime sat on the far-right side, still in his King's Guard armor which was dirtied and dented after the chaos of the day. His face had some scrapes from being flung off the stage by Geralt's magical trick. He was lucky to have suffered nothing major between his short clash with the Witcher and dealing with the riot that had broken out. The young knight had a deep look in his eyes, gazing at the map of Westeros that was spread across the table, seeming lost in his thoughts.
Tyrion sat in a seat on the mid-right, one finger trancing the rim of his wine goblet. Everyone else had a drink in front of them, though no one had bothered to so much as take a sip. The dwarf's gaze drifted between each of his family members, though lingered on his father and sister the most often.
Cersei sat at the far end of the table, facing directly at her father. She was still in her regal clothes, though her hair ruffled up since the trial and her light make up marred by tears. For the moment she was calm, though everyone could sense the boiling rage she had. Tyrion and Jaime never had seen her this angered before, making them both curious yet worried.
"So?" Her voice was low as she spoke that one word, cold and demanding in tone. Those eyes of her were like daggers towards her father, yet the older man didn't show a hint of concern.
"So, what?" He calmly questioned back.
The woman's jaw clenched tightly, struggling to keep composed. "What news of the traitors…the scum who slighted us today?"
Tywin didn't answer, only keeping that stern gaze on her.
"Answer me damn you!" She snapped out, standing quickly from her seat in frustration.
"Sit…down."
The chilling command had Cersei's angered look break, a life time of disciplining overriding it as she'd slowly sit down. Yet once she did, that sharp glare returned to her eyes once more.
"Any more outburst like that and I will have you leave." He calmly spoke, voice clear and commanding. "After what happened today, I'm doubting if you should even remain in the court, much less King's Landing."
Cersei, tapped her fingers against the table, biting back any harsh words for now.
"I will at least answer your first question. Geralt and his companions are gone, escaped by ship owned by a lesser lord and trader named Davos Seaworth. Both of the Stark daughters and Lord Eddard are gone, though reports claim Eddard was mortally wounded by an unknown archer from what the reports say."
The news of Lord Stark's injury drew surprised looks from Jaime and Tyrion, both glancing up as they snapped to full attention. Cersei remained passive, though a hint of amusement hinted the corner of her lips.
"Interesting. It wasn't one of our own soldiers somehow?" Tyrion questioned. "Considering with Robert's assassination, it seems someone is targeting the nobility from all sides."
Tywin glanced to his youngest son, eyes narrowing before he'd nod. "It is something I have considered. While Robert had his issues, he kept stability to the realm and was easing control to us over time. However, his passing was too sudden…and Joffrey's claim to the throne too swift."
"I thought you'd be pleased with a Lannister on the Iron Throne? What of all your talk of legacy and power?" Cersei calmly questioned.
"Because today showed your son lacks the skill and temperament to be King." Tywin bluntly answered.
Cersei bite her lower lip, gaze glancing to the table as she quickly thought to herself. "He is still young-"
"Obviously." Her father muttered.
"-and will improve under my guidance and discipline."
"Then you've already failed as a mother considering what happened today." He'd stand up from his seat, pacing over to the window while Cersei clenched her hands tightly together in anger. Jaime looked to her, noting a hint of blood showing at her palms.
Tyrion at this point decided it was time to speak up more. "For once I agree with father on this. Your actions over the last few weeks have been…rash and more erratic than usual. Perhaps Geralt and Lord Stark were getting close to something that worried you."
"Silence you…" She hissed to the dwarf.
"Your brother again has a point." Tywin remarked calmly. "Repeatedly you've been hostile about the Witcher, drawing his attention and suspicion towards you."
"Doesn't the fact that Tyrion's friendly relations with our enemy bother you at the slightest?!" She countered, trying to deflect on the matter.
"Because I understood his usefulness unlike you." Tyrion answered back. "Not only did he save my life during my travels, he has been forward with me on many private matters. Despite what you may think of him, he is indeed honest and honorable to a flawed degree."
"Honesty and honor…" She'd mutter under her breath. "He hurt my son…broke his hand while you stood aside to let him!"
Tywin didn't turn to look to her, only staring out at the city below the Red Keep. "What did you expect me to do? Fight him? Your brother knows very well what he's capable of…especially now."
Cersei's gaze drifted to Jaime, the young knight looking back at her. Her angry expression softened seeing the serious look on his face, an expression she rarely saw. "Geralt is someone we've underestimated time and again. In subterfuge he is cunning. His swordsmanship masterful. Battle tactics are logical yet adaptive." He listed off in a calm calculating manner. "Even when we had him outnumbered and surrounded, he still beat us through his hidden allies and skills we couldn't expect."
"You mean his sorcery…illusion…whatever you may call it."
"Yes." Jaime simply answered, face still passive.
"Doesn't that trouble you? If he had such power all along he surely cheated with it during-"
"No." Her brother snapped sharply back, surprising her. "Our duel at the Melee was nothing but marital skill! The times when he did used those abilities…even I'd admittedly use considering."
Cersei looked baffled at Jaime's answer. "You can't be serious?! He humiliated you directly multiple times…he wounded your…your King!" She nearly stumbled with her words mentioning her son, showing how shaken she was with her emotions. Again, she looked to Tywin and spoke directly to him. "You simply stepped aside let that monster harm him!"
Tyrion sighed from where he sat, annoyed as the arguing was continuing. "Enough! I enjoy seeing your whine sister yet for once I have no stomach for this." The dwarf earned a bitter look from her, tough Jaime placed a hand on her arm to keep her from snapping back. "So, let's end this unending banter. Father, it's time you get to the point of this meeting, otherwise you waste all our time."
Both his siblings were surprised at the direct manner shown, a rare thing Tyrion showed towards his spiteful father. Even the old lord glanced back, a curious look hinting his eyes as he saw the serious look on the dwarf's face. "These are troubling days indeed…for once your speaking reasonably."
"Guess you can say I've matured over the last few months, with a little nudge from Geralt himself." He'd glance over to Cersei. "Despite what you may think, he openly preferred everyone's safety, your dear children included." His gaze returned to his father. "Now then…to the point."
There was a long pause as Tywin paced before the window, nodding out to the city. "Because of today, chaos has taken hold of the city. Old loyalties to Robert, respect to Eddard and adoration of the Witcher. These views and more will spread, especially now our claim to the throne is questioned by the nobility and commoners."
"Heh…the commoners? What does their opinion matter?" Cersei questioned.
"It may be twenty years since the Targaryen reign, yet the pains and suffering during that time remain. The reason why people accepted Robert despite his poor rulership was he kept the peace…while Joffrey on his first official day decided to execute a Northern lord just like the Mad King did on a whim." He'd let that fact settle in, Jaime having a deep look being reminded of those troubled times. "How do you think the people will think of us when another war comes down onto them once more?"
Cersei "That…wasn't planned. He was to be exiled as stated."
"Advice you no doubt shared with you son and expected him to obey?"
She didn't answer back, only glancing away from her father's accusing gaze. "Yet surely the Witcher planned to-"
"Intervene? You know he too expected exile, otherwise his rescue attempt wouldn't have been so disorganized. You saw how his allies were slow to react. In the end Joffrey's actions provoked him. His real target was the girl."
"Sansa?" Jaime muttered, thinking for a moment before nodding. "It makes sense. Saving Eddard only furthers his 'guilt'…while taking his daughter from us deprives us of a political hostage over the Starks."
"Logical deduction. Indeed, he was no doubt planning to steal her away after the trial more discreetly. He'd no doubt succeeded and have escaped before we were ever alerted."
"So, what is the point stating this?" Cersai muttered.
Tywin turned fully about to face his family. "Simple. We're at a disadvantage. Conflict is inevitable if Lord Stark is dead and we have no one to bargain with the rest of his family. We all know the other Lords of the North nor Eddard's eldest son won't take this offense lightly…history has shown that repeatedly." Pausing, he'd continue. "Also with doubt on our claim to the Iron Throne, Robert's brothers will most likely contest for it as well."
"Curious…you believe Renly and Stannis will challenge each other?" Tyrion questioned.
"Renly is a young visionary. While inexperienced he is popular and knows how to deal with the other nobility. Stannis may be officially declared the rightful heir, yet he's always been a quiet and stern individual. He's a dead set conservative with a black and white view on right and wrong. Overall the two have clashing views, it is natural they will seek the same power."
"So…enemies to the north..." Jaime picked up a wolf piece, setting it at Winterfell. "…east…" He'd set one stag piece to Dragonstone. "…and the south." The other stag piece on Storm End. "Seems we're going to have a war on many fronts."
"Stannis will no doubt be the most prepared. He has had suspicions ever since Jon's Arryn's death and his position on the Small Council gives him influence of the navy. If he builds a strong enough army, we may very well face invasion by sea."
"Yet I take you have a plan in mind?" Tyrion remarked.
"Indeed." Tywin grabbed more board pieces, four lion figures. He'd place two to the Riverlands, then on at the King's Wood and on King's Landing. "We can prepare beforehand. Renly will need time to gather from his supporters, same with the Starks in the North. Our forces and allies will be able to assemble, letting us take defensive ground between our enemies."
"A defense? Surely we could simply rush our forces against the North or south to Storm's End." Cersei argued.
Jaime shook his head. "No, father is right. Renly may be closer, yet Storm's End would be difficult to take even if he has a small force defending it. As for the North it is simply too far into enemy territory. Even if we suppressed the Northerners, we'll be too overextended to support King's Landing or the King's Wood from the Baratheons."
"Well put. It seems you learned well in tactical studies." Tywin simply complimented. "Your brother is right. A war of aggression will leave us exposed unless we earn more allies to bolster us. We'll need to make quick alliances with unlikely groups to ensure our survival."
"Which I'm certain you well be negotiating in." Cersei coyly added.
"Yes…as King Regent."
A surprised look blinked crossed everyone's faces, yet Cersei had the most startled. "Surely…you are mistaken father. Joffrey has already been crowned…coronated before the whole court."
"Indeed."
There was a tense pause as Cersei stood up from her seat, pacing around the other end of the table. "So how can you take claim of that role?"
"I've already stated his obvious flaws for why he shouldn't actively lead. Before you concern yourself of the public or nobility worrying about him, they will understand. Considering the injuries inflicted during the trial and matters of his safety, it is reasonable for them to understand my…temporary position while he recovers and is better educated of his duties."
Cersei's hands clenched, annoyance showing in her eyes though she'd bow her head slightly. "Surely he can take some role-"
"And what? Threaten potential allies and small folk with his childish manners. No…we don't have the luxury to have him play King or you to puppeteer him."
"But-"
"Be thankful I'm not sending you away to Casterly Rock. Right now, you still have your uses among the court, so do not test my patience any further." With that warning given, he'd look to Jaime. "Our forces will need generals and leaders for what is to come. It is time you put all you training to full use…no more being a glorified bodyguard."
Jaime did not respond, only giving a small sideward glance to his distraught sister, before nodding to his father in silent agreement.
"Good…then there is nothing more to discuss tonight. You are dismissed."
Jaime moved out of his seat, yet Cersei remained where she stood as she spoke up again. "Permit me…one final question father."
Tywin didn't answer, only giving a curt nod to her to speak.
"What about Geralt the Witcher? How do you plan to deal with him?"
The old lord simply gave a small smirk back to her. "That is something you shouldn't concern yourself over."
His daughter glanced at the table, seeming annoyed with the lack of a clear answer. In the end, she'd stand up to leave with Jaime following suit before Tyrion hopped off his seat to leave as well.
"Not you. There are a few more things we need to speak over."
The dwarf paused from his father's remark and for a moment Cersei did as well at the door out, before she'd slip away with an annoyed look hinted toward her younger brother.
With a small sigh and shrug, Tyrion returned to his seat and was already refilling his goblet again. "So, what special assignment do you have for me this time?" His tone was sarcastic as he remembered well of his 'duties' in managing Casterly Rock's sewer system, a job that he despised yet had done very successfully.
The old lord stared at his son tensely, not seeming humored by his tone. "I know we have little care for each other Tyrion, yet of late you have shown…promise." He muttered. "Reliability is a trait we need this day, a trait many in this Keep lack."
"A trait I assume you see in me."
"At times…" There was a long pause. "I am loath to offer this, yet choices are slim. I need you to serve as the King's Hand."
The dwarf nearly gagged on his wine, just swallowing the drink down and taking a breath. A baffled look showed on his face as he stared at his father and then at his goblet. "Either I…misheard or…" He'd shake his head. "…No, you are dead serious…"
"Don't give me reason to doubt."
"I'm trying not to." Tyrion rubbed one hand over his chin, deep in thought, unsure if this wasn't some ploy or trick. "Let's say I do accept…"
…
Within the throne room, Jaime and Cersei had slipped into a shadowed corner of the hall, the woman pressed up close to her brother. Her lips were at his neck kissing at a bruise, yet despite the affectionate show Jaime turned his head away from her.
"Cersei…"
She'd move onto his cheek, brushing over the long scar left by from his duel with the Witcher. "Its not fair. That brute…hurting you…our son…"
"Stop…"
Yet she'd shift to kiss over his lips silencing him, pressing up more as twisted passion drove her on. Jaime accepted it for a long moment, yet pulled back in the end with a short sigh. His eyes had a conflicted mix of emotions of them, doubt being the strongest within him. It was something Cersei noticed which concerned her as she'd brush her brother's lovely golden hair.
"I know what happened at the trial was-"
"It was pure chaos and something we could have avoided."
She'd frown softly. "Please let's not focus on this. We've argued too much on the matter." Delicate fingers caressed his scarred cheek. "Right now, we need to focus on the future. You know very well who threatens us the most."
"The Witcher, at least from your point of view. For me it's hard to say considering we have a map littered with foes." His tone was sharp with her. "You can claim he could kill us, yet if he wanted that we'd have died in the throne room a week back or on that stage today. If he wanted to expose us he would have told our father at many opportune moments, yet he didn't."
Listing these facts off, he felt Cersei's hand drift lower down his face, cupping his sharp chin as he kept their gazes locked. "He must have a reason." She muttered, nearly hissing the world in that faint voice. "All part of some scheme or some twisted…"
"No." Jaimie's sudden words stopped her silent ranting. "He knows everything about us. The children…the tower and what I did to the young Stark. Even then he didn't want to fight…yet figure a fair course for everyone."
"And you believed what he said?"
There was a long tense pause as he looked at her, part of him understand the warning the Witcher had given about his sister. It was strange how he never noticed this side of her…or perhaps he did yet simply ignore it for so long. He loved and trusted her deeply, despite how their intimacy was wrong in so many ways. Right now, he had to learn the truth from her on one of Geralt's claims.
"Lancel…what is it between him and you?"
The sudden mention of the younger Lannister cousin drew a hint of surprise in her bright eyes, yet she did well to hide it. "What do you mean? He's simply a squire and-"
"One chance." Both of his hands were at her sides, holding her gently yet pleading. "One chance to tell me the truth." The words echoed so closely to what the Witcher had said in this very same chamber.
Cersei's lips parted as if to speak, yet the words seemed lost to her as she stared back at him. Right then…things were never going to be the same for the brother and sister…never the same.
…
Red Keep - Lord Baelish Chambers
To Deal with a Shadow
Petyr drew his door key from his vest and quickly unlocked the way. A small smirk hinted his face, having been keeping a close eye on the rapid new and spreading rumors throughout the capital. Overall everything was going as planned…in fact better then expected. He had only wished he had been at the 'trial' to see it all break out as people claimed, though he had known better with Geralt about. He was certain if he had been on that stage, he'd be very well dead for his betrayal.
Entering his lavish room, he'd move to close the door behind him and lock it again before pacing across the room. Loosening the mocking jay pin on his chest before moving to the jewelry box at the dresser. Yet as he'd carefully place his items aside, he'd pause as he'd hear something odd, the soft creak behind him. Like most rooms in the Red Keep, his room had a balcony area though he had made sure his had doors for security reasons. Moving closer, he'd see that the lock had been picked and the bolt forced open. Already his blood chilled as he felt a cold gaze at his back, making him tense on reaction and even drift to his Dragon Fang hidden at the back right of his hip.
"Don't move."
The voice was cold and low spoken, carrying such deadly intent even for saying only a few words. Littlefinger recognized who it was, yet that didn't ease the growing worry he felt.
"This is a bit…unexpected." He calmly spoke back, not turning around to face the intruder. He could hear the man shifting about behind him, soft boots patting along and a cloak lightly dragging over the floor.
"Why didn't you warn me before hand?"
"Warn you?"
"Don't play dumb with me 'Littlefinger'." The man lowly growled. "You suspected that brat would turn that trial into an execution. I question why you bothered hiring me…unless it was to annoy me and waste my time."
A long pause followed before Petry spoke. "I had my suspicions about the boy's intent. Many expected Eddard exiled, you included."
"I don't like surprises like this. You're lucky I kept to the deal despite having to chase Lord Stark over half the city and take quite the difficult shot to end him."
"Yet you succeeded yes? While his death is far less public then the city gates as we discussed, Eddard's passing will spread across the Seven Kingdoms." He'd pause. "You are certain he's dead."
"Yes."
Usually Baelish would question such a simple answer, yet the serious tone from the assassin was enough proof. His head shifted to glance back slightly, catching sight of the man's dark leather armor. "I guess that is a foolish question to ask. After all you are a Grim. Your group's reputation is unmatched.
The assassin didn't remark back, though Petyr could tell the man wasn't amused by the offered praise.
"Anyway, it is time to get the final half of your payment."
"Double."
"What?"
"My payment is to be doubled because of the complications."
Petyr paused, a small scowl hinting his face with the new demand. However, he knew arguing wouldn't be the best for his own health. "Very well. Let me just gather it up." He'd slowly turn about as he moved to the other side of the room, the assassin making sure to stay fully out of sight, never fully seeing the man. When they had met before it had been in the dark building within the city, yet it showed the man valued secrecy. Also, it was a good defense tactic keeping a target's back to you.
Moving to one of the paintings in the room, he removed to reveal a hidden safe which he'd quickly unlock, making sure the Grim didn't see how he worked the many intricate locks. Within the container, he'd pick out heavy pouches of gold. It was close to year of total earnings from his many business fronts in King's Landing. going to be bothersome paying twice as much, yet he didn't wish to double cross someone as deadly as a Grim.
"Put the money on the table."
Baelish followed the instructions, moving to the nearby table and placing the pouches of gold onto it.
"Now move back and turn away."
Again, he obeyed, moving over to the nearby liquor cabinet which he'd start to open. He'd hear the man give an annoyed mutter, obviously not trusting the noble, yet he didn't try to stop Petyr from getting glasses and wine out. The sound of coins being shifted could be heard as the Grim did a quick check, wanting to make sure the total seemed right at a glance.
"It is all in order despite your extra cost." Petyr assured.
"It best be." The Grim muttered. "I'd rather not make a return visit." While the tone was calm, Littlefinger couldn't help but shiver at how cold those words were.
"Would you like a drink at the least? A small celebration for-"
"And choke on wolfsbane like your late King? Don't test me as a fool Littlefinger. Killing you be too simple…yet the threat of your 'gift' bring quite the stir for the people. I wonder what they'd do to you if they knew just what you did to their fat yet loveable King."
Light sweat hinted his face as the assassin words brought more fear then any knife at his back. What baffled him was how this man knew…unless he was bluffing?
A small chuckle could be heard before the Grim gathered up his payment and shifted towards the balcony doorway. "We'll let you and the others play your petty game of thrones. Just don't be surprised when chaos comes, it will be a pit that swallow you whole." With that there was silence.
For a long moment Baelish didn't move before turning to look towards the balcony, finding it completely empty. His heart still raced as he'd pace slowly to the table to see the wine and glasses down before filling one. "Was risky to hire him." He muttered to himself with a small smirk as he kept his gaze set on the starry night outside, eyes set on the faint red streak in the sky. "Yet that is the thing…if you do not take the risks you gain nothing." Taking a deep sip from is glass before setting it down. "Chaos isn't a pit…but a ladder…one that I will climb to the top before all others."
…
Peering eyes stared through a hidden opening in one of the chamber walls, watching as Petyr enjoyed the last of his glass of wine. He couldn't help but be troubled by the noble's obsessed ambition, yet also inspired at the same time. None of the less, his suspensions on the Master of Coin were true.
"How much madness will you bring down on us Littlefinger?"
The voice whispered before slipping away from the wall, moving towards a low burning touch set behind him. Carefully he picked it up, avoiding his yellow robes from touching the lit end. Varys held it up as he'd slip deeper into the maze of hidden passages to return to his own chambers. There was much work to be done…all for the good of the realm.
…
The Riverlands – High Heart
The Dark Rebirth
Weavess breathed deeply, tasting the growing magic all around her. The feeling was wonderful, being exactly like the Black Sabbath so many months ago, yet the potency far stronger on this 'sacred' hill. The hunched hag had crafted finer clothes for herself, materials taken by the dead villagers and traders. The humans she had enslaved had dug a deep pit to the very roots of circle Weirwood tree stumps, tapping into the dormant power within them. The pit was flooded with murky gory red water, bits of dead villagers hinting under the surface.
"The time is neigh! The new age dawns…the reawakening of the magic!" She growled out gleefully as she stared high into the sky, which was thick with clouds drawn by the power forming on this hill. Even though the starry sky was obscured by the black clouds, the red glow of the comet was still clear overhead.
"I draw from the wandering flame of chaos, the purest of power!" Her long lanky arms waved overhead, clawed fingers twisting and turning in intricate motions.
The pool began to bubble as if a deep heat in the warm began to cook below, making the thick smell of death and decay well up into the air.
"I draw the life of this world! Untapped by the ages!" The red water began to glow, red trailing sparks leaping and coursing through the pool.
The hag walked closer to the pool edge, taking out a large brew bottle from her tattered robes. While he lacked the cooking skills of Brewess, she had all the talent needed to make this special elixir, a mix of rare toxic herbs and her own life blood. "With my blood, the shared blood of our mother, let it give you form once more."
She'd pour the thick liquid into the pool, the mixture sinking into the dark depths of the pit before it dissolved away. Weavess began to chat out in an echoing language, a tongue never heard by this isolated world. Back in her home world this form of speak was as old as existence itself and not fit for moral ears to hear…or minds to comprehend. The sky crackled with energy as the clouds above churned into a thunderous storm, though no rain fell as lightening boomed across the sky. Such power would have required all the hags to create such a fierce storm, yet Weavess felt twice as strong as time passed this night.
Soon her inhuman chant came to an end as she'd raise both hands upward. "Arise my sisters! Let this world be the womb of your rebirth…AND LIVE AGAIN!"
From the sky a massive lightning bolt striked directly into the pool, the final spark needed to complete the ritual. The glow in the pool died down and a deafening silence followed as the thunder suddenly stopped. Soon a drop fell from above, then another and another as rain began to pour down until it was a downpour. Weavess stood completely still, waiting even as the rain soaked her horrific form. Then the water shifted as if something underneath it moved. Then suddenly two long-fingered hands grasped the earthen edge of the pool, drawing a lanky figure from the depths. Close by, a pair massive fat hands reached for the shore, pulling a bare obese form from the murky waters.
Weavess beamed as she saw her sisters crawled onto the shore, heaving and gasping as they took their first breaths. The rain washed their grotesque naked forms of the gore and filthy water from the pool, as the two struggled for a moment to stand.
"Slowly my sisters. Take the time needed to rest and recover. The air is strong with power…it will fill your very being soon. She'd turn to pick up clothes set aside, new clothes for her sisters, styled like before yet much like her own clothes made of finer cloth. She'd lay each set of clothes by each sister, as the two began to recover.
Whispess gave a deep grunt and spat out thick slime from her mouth before she'd speak out in a wispy voice, grabbing at the red vailed headdress to cover her inhuman face. "My mind is…foggy. I remember the Sabath…yes…the girl…and her blade biting at my heart!" She'd growl out those last few words.
Brewess groaned at the pained memory. "Oh, that pain! The chilling feeling…and the darkness unlike the blackest night." She'd bellow as she'd fit her wicker basket mask over her face along with her cloth shawl across her head and bulky shoulders.
"Indeed, the Child of Destiny killed you both. How perfect this reunion would be if we had her at our mercy." Weavess muttered.
"How long have we been gone? Also, what is this place?" Whispess stood up as she fixed her dress over herself, head tilting as if listening to something. "The crows speak differently to me…and the annoying muttering of ravens echo around."
"Another Conjunction happened in our world, the time of the White Frost had come. I saw it as a chance to escape the world's death…yet didn't expect it take me here."
Brewess glanced broadly about the surroundings, noting the Weirwood tree and the many white stumps surrounding them. "The earth here is old. We're not the first to have lived here…and…" She'd glance farther north. "Do you feel it? The creeping chill and that muttering."
"Indeed sister! I know it well…the same whispers that followed the Wild Hunt." Whispess glanced northward as well, silent as she'd 'listen'. "The White Frost began on this world. It's been kept back…repelled…yet this time it will consume and reach beyond."
Weavess was curious of this new fact, considering she had sensed a strange building power as well. "What do you purpose sister?"
"It is a threat to us now that we're stuck on this world. We must face it or be destroyed with everything else."
"Such as task…yet…" Brewess had fat hands clenching together. "I feel mightier than ever before, not since the days when we took Mother's power."
"Then we will begin anew in this world. For too long we kept ourselves isolated in Velen, too comfortable with ruling weak superstitious peasants." Whispess paced about, arms wide as he basked in the falling rain. "Imagine the lords who we could… 'advise'. With our wisdom and powers, we'll have them enthralled to our will."
"And if they resist and challenge us…hehehe…how can they hurt us? With no Witchers or mages, they have no understanding of our powers or the means to fight us." Brewess added.
However, Weavess spoke up. "No…there is still a threat to us." Both of her sisters looked to her curiously. "The White Wolf followed the girl to this world. He does not know of us yet and is tangled in the games of the humans…though once he learns of us he'll act quickly."
"Then we'll be ready for him and show no mercy!" Whispess growled.
"Now I wonder…what of the Child of Destiny? If we had her flesh and blood…" Brewess muttered.
Weavess realized what her older sister was meaning. "The power to defeat the Frost. Yes…it makes us truly immortal and invincible."
"Make us true goddesses." Whispess chuckled before her youngest sister held up a silver wolf medallion. "I see you have something close to the girl. A useful item."
"It will let us scry her once preparations are made."
"Yes…" Suddenly Whispess paused, head glancing to the north east. "It seems we have guests coming. Curious and foolish men from what I sense."
"Mgh…young, strong and handsome?" Brewess cooed, her flabby body swaying at the thought.
"Keep your desires in check sister. We can't let these humans learn of our new home and warn others. Surprise is our strength."
The three hags turned and began to march into the dense woodlands that surrounded the hill, giggling and chuckling in sadistic glee.
…
Hadrian Rivers pulled his cloak hood up to keep the rain out of his face and soaking his long black hair further, the young man wishing he had cut it if he knew he'd be traveling in such a downpour. The cloth and leather clothes at least kept him warm, even though the layered material was becoming more soaked over his lanky form.
Lord Tytos Blackwood, Hadrian's father and ruler of Raventree Hall, had organized the group after reports came in of abandoned villages being discovered. Most were small and quite isolated, nothing too out of place considering how vast the Riverlands were. At first it seemed just a community or two had simply left, yet soon half a dozen was discovered recently. Tytos had advised his son's group to check High Heart because of the strange sightings on that hill and being the center of all the abandoned villages.
He'd shrug his bow back onto his shoulder and shaking his back to empty the water collecting into the quiver on his back, though he doubted his arrows fly straight in such severe weather. Everyone struggled to keep their lanterns dried, not wanting to stumble in the woods and mud in complete darkness. He'd glance at his other companions, hardy men from Raventree Hall who had volunteer for this mission with Ser Cordin at the lead. He was one of Tytro's best knights and was a dutiful teacher to the young Hadrian.
Hadrian quickening his pace to catch up, he'd speak up to Cordin. "We need to stop! Its already dark and this rain isn't dying down any time soon!"
The knight glanced over at the young man, giving a small frown. "We're nearly to the hill though! If there is trouble lurking about, I'd rather not wait for morning for it to slip away or surprise us."
The young man grumbled, biting back words of argument for now. It was risky to travel in these conditions, considering the men could easily get sick from the rain and chilly air. After a moment he kept the urge to speak up again, yet stopped when he heard something odd in the air. "Everyone stop!"
The sudden order made the other men come to a halt, though Cordin gave an odd look towards him. "What's the matter?"
"Don't you hear that?"
Everyone was silent, trying to listen through the pattering rainfall.
"If you mean the rain…yes I hear plenty of that."
"No, it was a voice giggling out! Like a woman's yet…wrong."
"Just hearing things lad." Yet as soon as the knight said that, there was a sudden laughter about them, an eerily sound. Cordin tensed, one hand going for his long sword while the other men gripped their own weapons nervously. "Then again…maybe not."
"Oh? Is the knight scared of little us?" One warped womanly voice chuckled out, echoing among the trees.
"The storm has them quaking in fear already, considering how they shake in their boots." Another voice cackled.
"Mhh…the young one though. So good and innocent. I'd make him quite the man yes…" Another slyly laughed.
Cordin was on guard, glancing at his men who were glancing about nervously with their weapons out. Hadrian fumbled with his bow, unnerved by the unseen voice speaking about him. "Form up! Get into a defensive circle!" Everyone obeyed the knight's command, trusting his skill and leadership. Hadrian was beside Cordin as the knight raised up his sword and shield, sharp eyes glancing about.
"What in the Hells is going on…" The young man muttered.
"I don't know…and that is what worries me." Cordin whispered back.
"You should be worried."
Suddenly the men behind them screamed out in terror. "Gods the ground! Its moves!" Roots and rotting plant life ripped up from the earth, grasping out at their legs and coiling upward. Those who didn't struggle free quickly gave pained cries as the tendrils coiled up their legs then around their chests and necks before being snapped by twigs.
Before anyone could react, there was a sudden shadowy figure that lunged out from the woods. The darkness made it hard for Hadrian to see, yet at a glance it seemed like an old woman though mutilated and sickly in appearance. The man closest to her yelled out in shock before her hand shoved right into his stomach, followed the slick sound of his guts being ripped out of him.
"Kill it! Kill it!"
The men scrambled to attack the crone who laughed out, blades and clubs swinging out at her. Despite her hunched stance, she moved inhumanly fast to avoid any blow, though let a sword strike at her only for it to snap like it was a twig.
"So rude to strike a woman!" The creature jested before she disappeared in a raging flock of black birds, the swarm passing through three men who howled as their faces were pecked and clawed at viciously.
Hadrian stood there in pure shock, trembling as he watched the bloody carnage before him. He had seen his share of violence and injuries, yet this was unlike anything he had seen. Suddenly there was a heavy stomp from the woods, making him turn about and draw his bow to fire blindly into the dense trees. However, the stomping continues as a large grotesque form came into view. It looked like a woman, yet fat and warty with a sagging heavy bust that it's simple clothes barely covered. Just the sight of it made the young man gag as he nearly puked at the grotesque sight. His arrow stuck out at it's face, having pierced the wicker basket the creature wore as a mask.
"That was rude of you my dear." The creature murmured, the same one that had slyly spoke of him moments ago. She'd grasp the arrow and pull it out before tossing it aside. "Yet I'm a forgiving woman. Come half-lord…let me embrace you!"
The creature moved closer, large meaty arms wide to grab at the petrified Hadrian who tried to back away. "Oh, gods please no!"
"Back you monster!" Despite the creature's foul appearance and the chaos around him, Cordin remained steadfast as he'd bash his shield at the creature. While she seemed surprised at the attack, her fatty form absorbed the blow and all it did was stall her for a moment. "You'll have to kill me before you lay a foul finger on him!"
"So noble of you! If you wish my love first…then I'll gladly give it to you!" The crone giggled as she'd swing a club like hand at the knight. Even with his strong stance, the man was forced back as his shield was crushed in one blow. Despite the creature's fleshy look, it's skin was like stone as the man stared at the warped metal.
"RUN HADRIAN! GET BACK TO THE HALL! WARN THEM!" He'd lash his sword at the giant of a woman, yet she'd casually catch his blade with one hand before yanking it away with ease. Even unarmed Cordin fought, an armored fist punching out at the creature's flabby stomach, yet he'd cry out as he broke his hand against the monster. "RUN!" He yelled out through the pain.
The young man backed away more, stammering to find words as the knight was grabbed by the creature who giggled out in glee. He'd watch Cordin struggle and curse, trying to pry free before getting smothered by disgusting flesh. The creature didn't stop as her arms began to tighten around him, metal plate buckling under her inhuman strength, drawing horrid cries as the knight's spine was being crushed.
At that point Hadrian ran, dropping his bow and rushing out into the dark woods as quickly as his feet would allow him. The horrible sounds of the slaughter faded behind him, yet the Crones laughter followed. His hands pressed at his ears to try and shut them out, trying to focus on escaping from them. He'd just kept running even as his lungs heaved for air and legs stumbled across the muddy ground, yet he pressed on despite the gawking exhaustion. He lost all sense of direction, going only on the base instinct of survival and Cordin's last desperate words.
…
"Should we chase the boy?" Weavess muttered as the group glanced out into the woods, the ground littered with the slain men…or what bits remained.
"Just one boy. You think anyone will believe him about what he saw?" Brewess answered back casually, heavy arms still cradling the crushed knight as if he was a toy. "Besides it be a waste to kill such a fine lad so early in youth!"
"Bah! Has your desire made you soft for the human?" Weavess argued.
Whispess hissed out to interrupt their bickering. "Enough! The boy isn't worth chasing. Let the woods claim him in his panic. For now, we have flesh and blood to work with." She'd lip up a dead man's arm, lifting his limp body from the ground. "We have much work ahead of us sisters. From now on we take the title as the Oracles of High Heart. The foolish humans will beg for our wisdom and power…long before realizing their folly!"
The trio laughed and cackled into the night, their inhuman voices echoing far and wide. To many their voices would blend into the storm overhead, yet all who heard it would feel terrible dread creep through them.
…
The Riverlands - Near the King's Road at the Green Fork
"Do you hear something…strange out there?" Ogatto muttered, the Dothraki pausing from cleaning his Arakh, his one dull white eye glancing up at the alchemist across from him. The two had made camp earlier that night, having found a small yet suitable cave to settle in, just before the storm had suddenly arrived.
For a moment, the dark-skinned warrior would examine his exotic weapon in the light of the campfire. For one it was made of finer steel, showing it was custom foraged, which explained the intricate designs on the blade's sickle depicting rearing horse on one side and script of words in Dothraki on the other. The weapon also was longer in size to be nearly the length of a long sword and added more reach to the curved blade. The fine leather grip was bigger too, making it easier to hold with both ends. However instead of a simple pommel, there was a blunted spike at the end which extended out by half a foot.
"Just the wind." Zarin muttered, keeping his attention set on the portable alchemy kit as he worked on some simple concoctions for his work. "Not scared of a little thunder, are you?"
"Heh…if you could have seen the storms that ravish the Dothraki Sea and Red Wastes. Rain is rare in those parts, yet when it came it brought down quite the fury." He'd pause a more thunder rumbled in the distance. "But this storm isn't right…feels unnatural…" One hand moved to brush his long black hair back nervously. He lacked a braid normally worn by his people, a sign of some dishonor happening to him for having it removed.
"That is just your superstition speaking." The alchemist dismissed with a wave of one hand.
The Dothraki shrugged as he'd polish the blade of his weapon a bit more. "You still haven't told me about what you have planned for us in the Riverlands." He'd ask. "I have noticed how you've been writing up letters and dropping them off at very town and inn we've passed by to messengers. Trying to contact the others?"
Zarin gave a short nod as he'd carefully stir around a small vial of deep green fluid. "Indeed. They should all be within the region. Will be only a matter of time before they get one of my messages or news from the capital will reach them. They'll know where to go."
"Do you think one of the other Grims did it, killed Robert for us?"
"Doubtful. Not enough time to contact one of them. I also doubt the Shadow or Snake were in King's Landing at the time." He'd cap the vial he had stirred before shaking it, the mixture during a deep red now.
"So, who do you think did it? I doubt it was Lord Stark or the Witcher as the rumors said."
"No. It was someone in court…maybe Cersei did it or someone else. Plenty of individuals have something to gain from the fat bastard's death." Setting the vial aside, he'd sigh as he'd pull his alchemist cap back to scratch his short black hair. "Overall though this is the right time for us. North and the South will war, giving us ample space to follow up on…well…MY plans."
"You are called the Grim of Schemes after all, I'd be surprised if you didn't have something set up." Ogatto chuckled out. "One of your plans wouldn't involve our newest member?"
"You'll know once we get to the meeting place." Zarin simply remarked before he'd pull the stopper off his new potion before drinking it down. The old man shivered and gave a small grunt as the mixture seemed to taste foul, yet after a moment his body relaxed. "Yes…the formula seems good by now." He'd flex one of his hands and nod.
"You rely on your elixirs too much friend."
"When you get to my age, you'll understand." The alchemist chuckled as he'd get up from where he sat and stand before the fire. His step seemed stronger and he stood more straight instead of his usual hunch posture. His blue eyes stared into the flames, a smug grin crossing his face. "This is the right time. It's time we break the cycle of these so-called Lords and Kings, bring a new change to the Seven Kingdoms."
"That is if that Witcher doesn't complicate things again." The Dothraki warned.
The older man shrugged. "A fair point. He is an…unexpected variable, yet one that can further my life's work." He'd pause as he'd pace about the campfire. "He will have his uses for what is to come. Beyond that we will prepare…learn all of his strengths and weakness before dealing with him. There will be no mistakes like before." He'd chuckle as he felt such a thrill at the thought, eager to see the mutant at his mercy. "Then we, the Grims, will be truly unstoppable!"
…
The North - Winterfell
Robb stared down at the letters laid out on top of the desk, the young man's brow narrowed as he compared them both. He was in his father's office, having just received shocking news from raven from the capital.
"It's not true…" He muttered, glancing up at Ludwin who stood by attentively. The old Maester had a grim look on his face, knowing well the conflicting thoughts the eldest son of Eddard felt.
"I don't believe as well." The old man remarked back. "Lord Eddard murdering the King…his friend." He'd shake his head.
"His trial was today if the letter is true." Robb paused for a long moment. "We won't know for a week at least."
"He will most likely be stripped of his titles and exiled to The Wall."
"'Most likely'. There is still a chance of otherwise." The young man calmly pointed out. "Even so the letter claims my sisters are under the Lannister's protection…but there is one detail missing."
Ludwin had a curious look as Robb offered the letter to him, the old man rereading it quickly. "There is no mention of the Witcher. He isn't stated to be dead or captured."
"Indeed. Either they overlooked that detail or…"
"He's still active." The Maester thought for a moment. "There is much uncertainty right now. Information is limited by others and distance. We have to be careful."
"Yet I can't be silent. The other Lords of the North will get this news, they will demand action."
"Whatever the case…you are the Warden of the North now no matter what happens to your father."
Robb bowed his head low, silent in thought. Right now, he wished he had others to advise him. "Send ravens out to all of the Lords of the North. Tell them to come to Winterfell for council within a week's time. By then we will get word of my father's fate…and if the outcome is the worse feared…" He'd pause as he'd clench his fists tightly. "…then we march for war."
Ludwin nodded, a solemn look on his face as he'd gather up paper, ink and quill to begin writing out the many messages. The old man wished Robb didn't have to make such a difficult choice. He had seen too much conflict in his long life and wished the young Stark wouldn't have to see the horrors of war.
…
The North – The Wall – Castle Black
Jon read over the letter Geralt had sent once more, having received it days before the news of his father's arrest had arrived at the isolated fortress. Already there was talk going on throughout the fort, with Allister Thorne being the first to taunt him of being the son of a traitor. It took much effort to stop himself from lashing out, yet he stuck to Geralt's advise.
The Witcher had followed his promise to get aid for Castle Black as supplies for new weapons, building materials, food and new light siege weaponry were being delivered. Even a few Northern builders and soldiers had come to help with duties around the fort. From what the men discussed, between Robert's order and the growing Wildling sighting, the Northern Lords had enough reason to send such aid. However, with the new of Eddard being arrested, there was talk that most of these men would leave for the possibility of conflict in the South.
Indeed, the last few months had been busy for him. He had built up a good following with most of the recruits as he took an active role in training, having been given a role as assistant instructor during sparring lessons. Thorne loathed it, yet the Lord Commander didn't deny the results that were showing among the newcomers.
After Jon and the other recruits had been inducted as members of the Night's Watch, they had discovered bodies of Uncle Benjin's ranger party who had left months back. They had taken the corpses back, something which had worried Jon to no end after what happened with the last few bodies brought in. Secretly he and his closest friends kept an eye on the medical room on their free time, until one night the corpses had suddenly disappeared. It had been a close call in protecting Mormont from one of the creatures, yet now the Lord Commander couldn't deny something unnatural was afoot.
For a moment, Jon moved one hand down to the sword at his hip, Longclaw with a new wolf headed pommel to it. When Mormont had gifted the Valyrian blade to him, he felt conflicted yet understood why he was given the sword. It was like what Geralt had said, Mormont saw his potential and gratitude for his actions against the second Wight attack.
Yet now the group was preparing for an expedition beyond the wall within a few weeks to find clues about his uncle and the growing movements of the Wildlings. However, Jon felt there was more to Mormont's plans, perhaps seeking clues on whatever was causing the dead to rise again as well.
"White Walkers…can a myth truly be doing this?"
Yet muttering the man made the wind pick up, making him shiver even with his thick cloak and clothes on. He'd glance out into the blackness of harsh lands beyond The Wall. Slowly he moved closer to the edge of grand structure, eyes narrowing as he tried to see what was out in the vast darkness.
"Just the darkness staring back at me." He sighed, relaxing as he'd move away after a moment.
"Jon! Jon!"
Snow turned to look down the icy passage to see Sam hurrying over to him. His larger friend had lost a bit of weight because of the base food and constant work around the castle, yet he was still quite chubby much to Jon's surprise.
"You alright? I mean…I understand you must feel bad about your father…yet that doesn't mean you have to stand off on your own."
Jon folded Geralt's letter into one of his pockets before giving a small smile back to his friend. "Just have a lot of my mind. So much has happened in these last few months, it's a bit hard to take in."
Sam nodded as he'd move closer to stand beside him. "I get that. Between your uncle disappearing and the…claims against your father…be hard not to feel worried for them."
"Aye." Jon paused in thought. "Part of me wants to leave. Go back to Winterfell and help my brother with the coming crisis."
"Yet you trust in everyone else to face those challenges?"
The insightful remark had Jon glance over and nod. "Geralt I know will do everything he can for my father and sisters while Robb will step up to be a strong leader in Winterfell. For me, I'm best suited here for whatever we face beyond The Wall.'
There was a long moment of silence as both stared out into the dark lands in the distance.
"I'm scared you know, having to go out there."
"Why is that? You have your brothers to watch over you and you've gotten a bit handier with a sword."
"Heh…personally I prefer the crossbow." Sam chuckled. "Its just the fact we'll be walking out into the unknown. Of course, the Wildlings are fearsome but…after seeing one of wights and…the growing storms…there is just something wrong out there. Unnatural."
"Its our job to face the unknown isn't it?" Jon answered back. "Wildlings…the walking dead…have to keep it all back for the good of the Kingdoms."
"I know that but…can we?"
The question was a haunting one, something that made Jon silent as he'd grip the pommel of Longclaw. In truth he had no answers and he doubt anyone else in the world did either.
…
Essos – The Red Wastes
Ser Jorah squinted at the high sun above him before staring out at the vast wasteland before him. Even with the sun so bright, his trained eyes could see the red streak in the sky, the Red Comet which had appeared the night before. The group had been following it ever since dawn, going east through the Red Wastes on the order of their new Khalessi. The disgraced knight knew just how dangerous this wasteland was, since even the Golden Company made sure they were well supplied for marching across it. It take a miracle to cross the region without major losses, considering the group had few horses and low supplies.
Then again, a miracle had happened last night. He'd glance back to the rest of the group, the few khalasar and three young warriors of Khal Drogo who were now Bloodriders to their new queen. Among the crowd of wanderers was a young beautiful girl, Daenerys Targaryen, the last of the great House of the Targaryens.
Among the copper skinned Dothraki she stood clearly out. With her pale skin, long silver-gold hair and beautiful violet eyes, she looked exactly as the tales described the Valyrian people. She was dressed in the same simple garb her handmaidens wore, plain brown cloth and leather which showed off her slender figure. However, around her form were scaly shapes that at a glance seemed to be serpents, yet up close revealed they were in fact small winged reptiles...dragons. The young Khaleesi held one of the new born in her arms while one had curled around her waist almost like a belt and the last sat on top of her shoulder.
Jorah still couldn't believe the creatures were real, though last night overall felt like something out of a legend. One of the greatest Khal's had died in disgrace and Daenerys had lost her only child who had been destined for greatness in his life. Whether it had been the cruel hand of fate or the dark powers of that shaman, the young woman had lost everyone dear to her. The funeral that happened last night was meant to be the end of her. It pained Jorah to have seen her walk so calmly into the burning pyre of her husband, all while the witch howled her last as she burned. Yet in the morning, he was shocked to see she had been untouched by the flames and had her three dragons curled around her.
"Times are changing…" He muttered to himself before he heard hooves behind him as the new Bloodriders approached him.
"Any idea where we are Jorah?" One of the young men questioned in Dothraki. "We need to find water soon, considering our supply is low to begin with."
"I know…" He muttered back. "If we had a landmark like a ruined city or natural structure we could get a better idea of our location. Though this part of the Red Wastes is completely barren and vast. I doubt we'll find many resources in these parts."
One of the Bloodriders nodded. "At the least we are far away from the other Khal's territory. I'm beginning to understand why the Khalessi wishes us to follow the Red Comet."
"Safe path or not, we'll slowly perish without water." The last Rider muttered.
"Heh…perhaps it will fall from the sky." Jorah chuckled, trying to give some humor to the grim discussion though the Dothraki didn't show any amusement with the remark.
Suddenly though there was a resounding bang much like a lightening bolt, followed by a short flash of light from above. The three horses of the Bloodriders panicked for a moment before the Riders calmed the beasts, while the group behind them screamed out in terror. Jorah cursed out in surprise as he quickly tried to find the source of the boom, thinking it was a distant storm beyond one of the surrounding mountain ranges.
"There! By the spirits what…the sky it's splitting?!" One of the Bloodriders yelled, pointing up to the sky.
Indeed, the air seemed to warp and tremble before ripping apart for a white void to be revealed. Another echoing boom and flash followed, making everyone shield their eyes from the intense light. Then suddenly there was an intense chill…a cold that Jorah hadn't felt in a long time.
An icy gush of wind and the caress of snow touched his wrinkled face, the feeling making him gasp in surprise. When he opened his eyes, he'd see before him a large patch of snow, frosted rocks and uprooted pine trees. It was as if someone had scooped up a piece of the wooded North and dropped it before them. One hand was at his sword as he'd look about the cold surroundings, giving a sigh as the lingering cool air relaxed his warm body. The Bloodriders kept back, confused and nervous over what they saw before them. One of the young Riders tasted some of the snow off one of his hands before lapping it up as it melted into water.
"What is this?" The Rider muttered in amazement.
"Snow…something that shouldn't be here." Jorah calmly stated. "Go the others and tell them to gather every waterskin and container they have to collect the snow. This is going to quickly melt, so we can't let such a boon slip by!"
The Riders nodded as they'd hurry back to the party who were moving slowly forward, cautious over what they had just witnessed. Daenerys was stepping forward though, seeming more curious then fearful like her subjects.
Jorah moved further into the snow-covered area, glancing over at the fallen trees nearby. Nearing the end of one, he'd crouch down to see that the tree hadn't been uprooted by cut away smoothly at the base. "No weapon could do this…" He muttered before hearing something, a low pained groan nearby. Standing up, he'd look about the icy rocks and other toppled trees until he heard the groan again.
Soon he'd see a figure laying on the snowy ground, a woman dressed in furs and leathers, yet it wasn't of any design he knew from the North. What was most striking about her though was her appearance…it almost was a splitting image of Daenerys, having the same pale skin and silvery white hair. There were differences though, such as the fact she was older, had a more fit toned figure, along with having a healed scar that started at the left side of her head and arched along the cheek just below her eye. There were more recent injuries though, her winter clothes being ripped by what he recognized as blade cuts. In her right hand she held a beautiful blade, a finely crafted weapon that seemed to rival a Valyrian blade.
As he'd move closer and crouch down, the girl muttered something before turning her head to look at him. Her eyes opened weakly, revealing her gaze to be an emerald-green color. With her head turned he'd see an odd hand print at her throat, yet it was created by light frostbite across her skin. In fact, the minor cuts she had along her body had hints of frostbite as well, a strange detail to her injuries.
"Who…who are you?" She muttered, exhaustion hinting her voice. Her accent was unfamiliar, sounding nothing from Westeros or Essos. "Where am I…I…the Frost! I have to-" Sudden energy showed in her eyes as she'd struggle to get up, yet cry out as she'd grasp at her right side.
"Be still. You're more injured then you look." Jorah quickly remarked as one hand pressed at her right shoulder. "My name is Jorah Mormont. I'm not sure what happened to you, but you appeared in a flash of light and a swirl of snow."
"Light…snow?" The woman muttered, eyes closing as she'd try to remember. "That thing…it grabbed me…felt it draining my life and power away…I panicked…jumped to escape it."
Everything she was muttering seemed disorganized and confused since nothing made sense to the knight. "Relax. Whatever attacked you isn't here." He'd get a piece of cloth out to wipe the melting snow off her brow. "What is your name?"
"I'm…Ciri…just Ciri…" The woman answered back before turning her head to see someone approaching. She'd see Daenerys stand over her before shifting down to kneel, the sight of the girl drawing a surprised look from Ciri. "You…you look like…me?" She muttered in confusion.
"I was about to say the same thing." Dany's voice was soft towards Ciri, before the one dragon in her arms stirred, giving a small screech as it eyed the ashen haired woman.
"Is that a…dragon?" Ciri questioned, yet she'd groan again in pain as she'd start to lose focus. "Who are you?"
"My name Daenerys Targaryen. Titles can be shared another time." One hand moved to touch Ciri's scarred cheek, the touch oddly relaxing to the young woman. "Rest Ciri…by my honor as Khalessi you will be safe under my care."
Ciri struggled to speak, wanting to argue and explain why she couldn't sleep now. Her mind was still fresh of her battle with that horned creature and the last moments she had shared with Geralt a world away. Yet exhaustion took hold, her eyes closing with the last sight being of the kind face of Daenerys and the baby dragon in her arms.
…
Notice: Has been quite a long time coming! Ciri has returned and now a new age of conflict begins! Season 2 will offer plenty of twists and turns. New enemies now lurk in the shadows, shocking alliances will be made and the world of Westeros will never be the same. There will be much work ahead, yet I will push the limit to offering speedy chapter releases and quality writing.
I have one special piece of news to share though. I've started a page, for those wishing to offer more support. THIS WILL NOT CHANGE THE RELEASE TIME OR QUALITY OF MY WRITING. Supporting is simply a form of donation which I will deeply value, even if it is simply one dollar. I do work full time after all and live at home still, so every bit of support means much for me. My will be active soon, so check out for Drake Cross on the website or follow the link on my blog.
Again, I deeply thank all my readers. See you all with season two comes around, though keep an eye out for another series I'll be releasing soon. My only hint is that it's time for a clash of hunters to happen…