"You look a little tired Hope. Sleep not coming to you?" the melodious voice of Melisandre snapped Hope out of whatever stupor she had been in. The auburn-haired maiden looked at the older woman and gave her a tight smile.
"I am just fine Melisandre" the girl muttered. In truth, she had not been fine. Ever since she had seen the sight of those demonic merciless eyes in the flames, her sleep had become horrific. Every time she closed her eyes she saw those eyes glaring at her from the darkness. She felt an odd chill enter her body, bare her to the darkness, and felt it overwhelm her. It felt too much like the Hollow and she detested it.
"Have the flames shown you anything more?" the priestess asked.
"All I see are those dark eyes and snow" the young woman responded.
Melisandre seemed to ponder on that statement, her eyes moving away from Hope to the snowy road before them. "I too see something similar. Not the eyes but the snow" the priestess muttered. Hope wasn't sure how she should take the information. If two of them saw the same thing, there must be some meaning to the vision.
"You seem to have warmed up to our god quite nicely, Lady Hope" Melisandre spoke up again and Hope felt her jaw set stubbornly.
"I have done no such thing" the younger woman ground out and hastened her steps. Hope wasn't sure whether this R'hllor or whatever its name was, was some god. But she was sure of one thing. This thing was powerful. Not only had it pulled Hope out from her world, but it was also actively guiding her towards something. She could feel it in her entire body, the warmth that would build each time she did anything that Melisandre told her to do. Like when she burned Selyse Baratheon. Maybe this R'hllor was her ticket back home.
The priestess and her 'apprentice' reached their destination to find the depleted army with their prisoners. The previous night after all had gone to bed, the sellswords had run off with many of the horses, and not long after their camp had been ambushed. It was a miraculous display of magic from Hope that saved Stannis' army from being grievously damaged.
The prisoners stopped their insulting and spitting when they saw Hope. The girl saw genuine fear in their eyes. She wasn't surprised seeing that. After all, Hope had burned many of their brothers alive during last night's fight back.
"The witch!" one of the men hissed out and flinched when Hope gave him a cold glare. Beside her, Melisandre smiled while Stannis before her looked as emotionless as ever.
"The gift we received has shown us just how powerful she is!" Melisandre roared to those that remained and were present in the center of their camp. "The deserters will get their dues we shall all see! But for now, let us offer these degenerates to R'hllor! So, he may bless our attack on Winterfell."
"You'll never get Winterfell" the oldest of the prisoners spat while he and his companions were being bound to the pyre that had been built for them. Nobody had doubted that these men would be offered as sacrifices.
"Your Grace," Melisandre now turned to look at Stannis, "allow Hope to make today's sacrifice. This is after all to her credit that we were successful in defending our camp and capturing these men."
Stannis regarded the Priestess before moving his gaze to Hope. The younger woman saw the careful calculation in Stannis Baratheon's eyes, assessing her closely. But the prominent emotion in his eyes was sadness. Hope couldn't blame the man. She knew the man loved his daughter. To first lose his daughter and then his wife to suicide was not something anyone could walk away from without a hint of pain. Even if the burning of his daughter was at his command, no matter the influence over his head.
"Very well" the man finally spoke and took a step back. Melisandre smiled and moved forward, gently pushing Hope to move with her. The men were tied to the poles, each one having a different emotion, various spectrums of hate, anger, grief, and whimpering for mercy.
"Just like last night" Melisandre whispered and Hope gasped softly when the woman put her hands on Hope's hips. "Remember what you did last night," she whispered so close to her ear that Hope felt her warm breath hit the shell of her ear. The younger of the two femmes felt an odd sense of warmth build up inside her belly and spread all through her body. Melisandre whispered the prayers of R'hllor into her ear, feeling up and down her sides sensually. Hope found herself sweating a bit as she raised a hand.
"Incendia" Hope muttered the spell that had been taught to her by the teachers back at her school, but the effects were much grander now. A ball of fire built on her open palm, growing slowly in size and intensity before it shot towards the pyre. The men screamed and in a matter of seconds the entire pyre was ablaze and the men were nothing but ashes.
"For the night is long and full of terrors" Hope found herself muttering the last part with Melisandre, the rush from the spellcasting pushing her to a new edge. She felt powerful, stronger than anything she had felt in her life. A smile built upon her face as she watched the fire burn brightly, felt the heat of the flames against her skin.
But the smile faded just as fast as it came. Among the dancing flames, Hope saw a wall of ice and a murder of crows stood on snow. There was one crow fallen while the rest of the crows pecked at it and pulled its insides out. But the fallen crow looked different. Its wings were oddly shaped like they were more bat wings with scales than feathered crow wings. And instead of a crow's head, it had the head of a wolf.
Hope stumbled back and Melisandre held her close.
"You have done-"
"There is danger" Hope cut the woman off, "there was a wall of ice. Crows were killing one of their own in the snow. But this crow looked different. It had weird wings and the head of a wolf."
Hope found the whole vision ridiculous now that she had said it out loud. It left her in a confusion about what exactly she had seen, how this vision meant anything to any of them. But one look at Melisandre's face told her that the woman understood exactly what the vision meant.
