Night had fallen upon Dragonstone like a heavy blanket, smothering the castle in a thick layer of darkness. From his vantage point on the steps leading up to the stronghold, Bruda stood leaning on the stone wall watching large, destructive waves crash against the shore below. He enjoyed spending time outside at night since it gave him the opportunity to collect his thoughts. He realised that was doubly important at his age in case he started to forget things. His mind wandered back to their meeting with the two men. Sam and Marwyn they had called themselves. Interesting people by the looks of things. After they had explained their situation to Daenerys, the two of them, along with their dragon, had been shown to their accommodation whilst they stayed here. There was plenty of room here, that was for certain. The queen had ordered that a room in one of the lower parts of the keep be readied for them.

By that time, it had gotten fairly late in the evening, meaning the people of their group went their separate ways for the night. Although he doubted that many would be alone for the time being. Even within their small group, they had managed to form even smaller cliques. They probably hadn't even noticed this had happened but he did. Always paying attention. Looking at the closer details. The Lannister dwarf would likely be with Daenerys's right hand woman. They had taken to spending the odd evening together with a few glasses of fine wine. Tyrion had joked that Missandei had not been one for alcohol initially but he had worn her down slowly but surely. Bruda had asked if he could join them at some point; he tried not to be hurt at the quick denial that he received. Daario Naharis had become distant recently, mainly staying on board one of the ships most of the time. It slightly unnerved him - when a person was left alone, unsavory thoughts often tempted the mind. He'd make sure to have a word with the sailor when he had the chance. He fully expected Daenerys and Jorah to be together, although that particular thought made him feel queasy. The eunuch would be one of the few actually alone. He kept to his room unless called for at this time of day, writing notes and whispers that would travel across the kingdom. Varys was definitely a valuable asset and would hopefully go a long way in securing the throne for Daenerys. However, that didn't mean that, if he had to, he wouldn't hesitate to crush the spider. Selmy, the old knight, was the person Bruda didn't know the most. He kept to himself. When around them, he stood guard silently unless spoken to. Otherwise, he would remain in his quarters, which were positioned close to where Daenerys slept, just in case something was to happen at night. Bruda liked him. The Stark girl had opened up slightly after their talk on the ship but she still spent most of her time exploring the castle, as if she was looking for the best places to hide or the areas where an attack would be most possible. She was definitely a wolf.

As he stood watching the black sky, he was about to find out he was wrong about one of his predictions. As she walked down the steps, Daenerys was surprised to see another figure standing outside. Even though he wasn't accompanied by his staff like he normally was, which was a rare sight, she could tell instantly that the figure was Bruda. His brown cloak, the one filled with patches of different coloured material in an attempt to hide its wear and age, billowed gently in the evening breeze. She had come out here to take a moment to appreciate the castle they currently occupied. The walls seemed to her to sing and hum with stories of the past, of her family. She had never been this close to them, to where they had once ruled by fire and fury, to Westeros. It was all becoming so real for her and, if she did not take moments like these to take stock, then it would likely overwhelm her.

Bruda didn't notice that she was there until she stood right next to him. They stood in mutual silence for the time being, both of them looking at the blinking stars. Daenerys enjoyed the momentary peace. It was refreshing from the usual chaos that she experienced. After a few minutes, Bruda glanced at the woman by his side. "A lady such as yourself shouldn't have to face such a biting cold." She smiled softly at the wizard.

"I find it quite enjoyable thank you very much. The fire within me keeps me plenty warm, even at times like this."

"Oh of course. How could I forget? Silly me. A true Targaryen if there ever was one." Her smile faltered for a second at his comment. It was enough to get his attention. "Something's eating you up inside."

Of course he could tell. "What if I am what you say? A true Targaryen? I've heard the stories, I've lived under the shadow of their reputation. What if, as soon as I sit on that throne, I become like my father? The Mad Queen."

"If that happens, I'll give you a good bonk on the head to set you straight," he answered her jokingly. "If I'm still around by then." She gave him a harsh look at that.

"Don't you dare say something like that. I order you, as your Queen, to stay alive so that you can be by my side when I rule Westeros." He put his hands out in front of him, palms facing her, in a sign of apology.

"I'll try my best," he said, although she didn't like the hint of uncertainty in his voice. "You know, the fact that you even consider that you could go down that path makes you a greater person than your father ever was. If you appreciate that it is a possibility, then you have a chance of preventing it from happening. You just have to stay as the person you are right now. A just person who is willing to make difficult choices when you have to."

"It's just...being here...it all seems so close. I've dreamt of ruling for years and now it could happen so soon. I don't know, now being here, if I'm actually ready."

"It's a perfectly natural feeling. You've never been this close to home. But remember, this is your home. You deserve to be here. You've worked tirelessly to get here."

"But I failed in Meereen. How can I rule a kingdom when I couldn't stop a city from falling apart."

"You did not fail there. In fact, the city failed you. You wanted to bring about morally correct change but those fools rejected it. That wasn't your fault. You had to leave in the end. Your goal was never to spend the rest of your days in Slaver's Bay. You need to be here." She thought on his words as a silence fell over them once again. His attention turned back to the night sky and she couldn't help but watch him as his eyes scanned the ever-changing distance.

"What are you thinking about, looking at the stars so intently?" Her words snapped him back to reality.

"Don't you think it's fascinating? We look upon these stars every night but we don't have the faintest clue of what they're like or what partners them out there. I have a theory. When we die, I believe that we end up dancing up in the sky, our stories playing amongst the stars so that everyone can see them. Which means that, whilst we have this lucky opportunity to live, we have to make every moment count." He spoke so softly she struggled to hear him clearly at times. "Those stars are connected, each story having thousands upon thousands of links to other wonderful stories. Because, throughout life, your story will be filled with other people. Some will become main characters, such as friends and loved ones. Hint, hint: Jorah." He gave her a quick wink. "Others will just pass by, a nameless face but they become a tiny part of your story until your tale is finished."

"That sounds very poetic and wise, Bruda."

"Oh, I should be wise by now." For once, his voice seemed to carry the weight of his full age. "You have no idea how old I am Daenerys. I have met so many fantastic people throughout my life. I could speak for days about them. But I have lost just as many. A painfully large amount. That is a part of any story and, you should know, what makes a good story is not how we thrive in pleasant times but how we recover from the bad times. You never know when the bad times will hit or when your story will end so you have to work to ensure every sentence, every page, every chapter of your story is greater than the last. Then you will get to play amongst the stars for eternity."

She had tears in her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

He looked at her intently. "Because you're stood right here. You can feel it, inside you. You're on the precipice of your next great adventure. Daenerys, a new chapter is about to begin and it will be filled with difficult times for a certainty. You need to be ready."

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Jon had thought it apt to see his siblings before he travelled to Dragonstone. He knew it was to be a long and tiring journey and didn't know how long he would be staying there. He realised the irony of just reuniting with them after all this time, only for him to leave so soon after. Yet he understood why it had to be done and he was also quite interested in meeting the young Targaryen. He didn't know what to expect with her; all he hoped for was that she agreed in giving them access to the dragonglass. He was also excited to see Samwell once again. It had been at least a couple of months now since the two had been together. During their time at the Night's Watch, they had spent a great deal of time together, mainly because the Tarly boy had been a useless sobbing mess without Jon's intervention.

He walked through the courtyard, holding his cloak tight to his face in the attempt of keeping the freezing cold out. As he briskly went through the open area, he noticed Theon off to one side talking with his sister. He had been practically his family once. Now he looked at him with nothing but distaste. Theon looked up as the Stark bastard walked past. Jon met his stare with a scowl. He was nowhere near to forgiving him just yet.

He found Sansa in her room. Her old room. She had promptly moved out of the one the Boltons had given her, citing bad memories as the cause of her decision. She was currently folding up one of her dresses before putting it into the drawers. Jon stood in the doorway watching her. It just seemed so normal, as if nothing bad or supernatural was heading towards them. He often dreamt of returning to the way their lives had been - Eddard would stand on the balcony as Jon and Robb would train with wooden swords, Sansa would be off somewhere learning how to be a proper princess, Bran and Rickon would be running around the courtyard with their direwolves and Arya would be exploring the depths of the grounds. Yet that would never happen. Eddard, Robb and Rickon were dead, along with Catelyn (although he had never been close to her, he was still hurt when he found out); Bran would never walk again and no longer resembled the boy he once was; Arya, if not dead herself, was somewhere that he didn't know; and Sansa had grown into the young woman before him, a much colder person now.

"You know, you shouldn't sneak up on people Jon," Sansa said to him, breaking him out of his thoughts. He hadn't realised she had noticed him.

"I didn't want to interrupt," he responded, slightly embarrassed.

"Interrupt what? Me putting clothes away? Not exactly exciting or riveting." She beckoned him inside the room; he stepped in and stood by the large bed. "Is there a reason why you paid me this visit?"

"I needed to speak with you. We just finished a meeting with Stannis and it was decided that I need to go to Dragonstone to meet with the Targaryen." Sansa's expression turned sour.

"But why?" she complained. "What reason could you possibly have to travel so far just to meet with her? You only just came back and now you're leaving me...us."

"It's necessary. I know the most about the white walkers and she has something that will help us fight them. Or at least I hope it will."

"Jon, if you go south, I fear that you won't come back."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because you are too honest a man to play this stupid game. Father was the same and look what happened to him!" Her voice was high pitched, almost a shriek.

"This has to be done. Or we'll lose the war."

"But you're not giving me any detail about this war. Why? Is it because I'm not one of the people in charge? Not one of the men you're always discussing matters with? I should know my place by now."

"You don't need to know any of the specifics!" he argued, his voice rising. "It is my job to protect you! Not the other way around. For now, I don't want you troubling yourself with thoughts about such evil. The time will come when we all have to face it but not now. Let the burden weigh on me." She raised her hand to touch his cheek, lightly stroking his rough beard.

"I'm not some little girl anymore Jon. I can protect myself but only if I know what I have to protect myself from."

"I promise you, when I return, we will talk about all of it. Everything." She seemed to accept that, he could tell from the look in her eyes. "There are plenty of people here who will look after you whilst I'm gone. I trust many of them with my life so I know they will serve you well. Do you know where Bran is? I thought I should speak with him as well before I leave."

"I'd search the Godswood. He has spent a lot of his time there since his arrival." Jon nodded his head and moved to leave. "Jon…" Sansa's voice seemed to tremble, raising his concern. "I'm worried about him. He's different."

Jon wore a sad smile. "I know. But he's still our brother, that will never change. Maybe spend some time with him while I'm gone. Reconnect. Oh, and try speaking to Stannis if you can."

"Why?"

"I think it's time you were involved in our discussions." He didn't expect the hug when it hit him.

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Davos held the present tightly in his hands, not wanting to drop or damage it. The work that had gone into it was more than he had expected but he had wanted to do something nice for her before he left. He hadn't actually seen the young girl since she had come to Winterfell with her mother. Selyse always gave him cold looks, as if he wasn't worthy of being in their presence. He felt on the odd occasion that she was right; after all, he was basically just a common smuggler. He didn't care though since Shireen seemed to like him just enough as he was.

That didn't mean that, when he entered her room, he wasn't happy when he noticed Selyse wasn't there. He enjoyed a respite from the cold wind as he stood inside - it had messed up his fairly short beard. He looked at it and wanted to think it was the snow that had turned his beard white in patches. Old age and stress...going greyer by the day. Shireen looked up from where she was sitting, currently at a small table pouring over an open book, and smiled at the old man.

"It is so good to see you!" she exclaimed. The joy in her voice melted his heart. It had been a long time since someone so openly welcomed his visitings.

"And the same to you, princess." He liked to remain somewhat formal when speaking to her; he was her father's Hand after all.

"Have you kept up with your reading?" she asked with a hopeful tone. He gave a large sigh as he sat down in the other chair at the table.

"Well...I've been quite busy lately, as you will probably know. War doesn't give a man much time to sit down in a comfy chair with a book, or even a scroll or two." Why did he feel so ashamed? I've let her down.

"All I can hear are excuses from a grumpy old man. You will never improve if you don't practice consistently," Shireen complained, knowing she'd eventually be able to persuade him. She enjoyed having a teaching role, especially getting to instruct an adult.

"I know, I know. You have said it plenty times enough already. I will try to make time, if I can." He raised a finger before she could jump in. "That is not a promise though. I don't want to talk about it with you but you need to know that troubling times are brewing. And that means I have a lot to focus on right now."

"I understand." He felt quiet pride at how her face was set in adamant resolution. He reached into his cloak pocket and produced two small wooden toy animals. He placed them carefully on the table in front of her and watched as her eyes lit up. She lifted one up almost reverently and examined it carefully.

"What are these?" she asked him, tearing her eyes from the figurine to look back at Davos.

"The one your holding is a stag. To represent your family's sigil. Big and proud, just like your father and his brothers." Brothers who are dead now, one at the hand of Stannis in a strange way. "That other one was a quick addition, I must say. A direwolf, the animal of the Starks who used to live here at Winterfell and still do - I'm sure you've met Sansa and Bran or will do so at some point. A direwolf is large and ferocious, with a deadly bite and is fiercely protective. And also very finicky to make out of wood."

"You made these?"

"Aye, I did. They're a gift for you, if you want them. Because I made them, I know that they're not the best quality."

"They're gorgeous. Perfect," she countered, smiling. "But why are you giving me a gift?"

"I'm going on a trip on the bequest of your father and in these times, it isn't always a certainty that I'll return, although I'll try my damndest to try. I thought I should give you these while I still have the chance. See them as a thank you for helping me with my reading, for being my stubborn teacher" He had stood up in anticipation when he gave her the toys, nervous that she wouldn't like them. She jumped out of her chair and almost tackled him with a large hug. Davos, not really knowing what to do, awkwardly patted her on the back but couldn't help the small smile that was spreading across his face.

"Wait here," Shireen instructed him and he did as he was told. She spent a few moments searching the shelves in her room before she found what she was looking for. She passed over a large book to him and he remembered what it was. It was her book full of stories, such as the ones about Balerion the Dread and brave knights. He stroked the cover before giving her a questioning glance. "It's a gift. For you." Now she was the one who sounded nervous. "If you're going on a journey, then you will need to entertain yourself. And, this way, you can also practice your reading skills."

"Why thank you, princess." He couldn't remember the last time someone had got him a present.

"It also means you have to come back. Because I'll need to know what you thought about all the stories." I will try my damndest.

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Sansa had been right - Bran was sitting in the Godswood looking at one of the mangled faces imprinted into a weirwood tree. The first thing Jon noted was that his brother was sitting in a newly made wheelchair. He'd have to ask how this had happened without him knowing. The last he had seen was Bran being dragged around by that young girl. She wasn't here right now that was for sure. Bran was all alone, a state that he tended to prefer by the looks of things recently. Jon, although he did want to say his farewells, wanted to use this opportunity to get some answers too. Bran had become a difficult person to have a conversation with. Jon trudged through the snow to get closer to him. As he struggled, he wondered how Bran had got here in the wheelchair. He noted the two lines in the snow that tracked from Bran's transport but was still amazed that the wheels had managed. He was probably given some assistance Jon thought rationally. He loitered slightly behind the other man, because that was what Bran was now really. No longer a child, the child Jon had known, had last seen Bran as. No longer normal. He needed to fight those thoughts away. He still looked like Bran, at least.

"Hello, Jon," Bran began. He had heard the Stark bastard slowly join him due to his heavy footsteps.

"Bran," he greeted in return. "You seem to have found a new way to get around. I'm glad. Can let that girl have a rest for once." His little joke didn't seem to resonate with the other person. Bran seemed to gloss over it and focus on the more practical points of Jon's words.

"The previous maester was killed during the battle here." Jon wondered what sort of a person would kill a maester and hoped that they weren't currently in their ranks, even if they needed as many men as they could get. "The Citadel sent a new one for us and he arrived quite recently. A Scot from the sounds of things. I'm sure you'll meet him eventually. Just send for Maester Capaldi. But he noticed my condition and quickly got to work."

"I can see," Jon said with a smile.

"You're leaving." This new Bran had a tendency to be abrupt.

"How did you know? I came here to tell you just that information. Is this a part of your new...skills?"

"Of course not. I heard people talking around the castle grounds. News travels fast around here." Jon had the good grace to be embarrassed.

"Well then...I could have saved myself a cold journey."

"I assume you still have something else pressing on your mind." This new Bran was deadly perceptive.

"I'm just curious...about what things you know concerning the Night King. Is there anything you know that can help us defeat him. You spent time past the Wall, you said. Anything might help." Jon was almost pleading.

"I saw him. At least, in my mind I did. But it was different, he saw me as well." He subconsciously rubbed his arm where the marks left by the Night King had burnt into the skin. He showed Jon. "He managed to brand me. I think we have a connection. Maybe I could be the one to lure him here. He might want me for some reason."

"At the moment, the last thing we want is him being lured here. The longer he waits behind the Wall, the longer we have to ready ourselves. But, when the time comes, we can consider that line of thinking."

"I was shown part of his past by the previous Three-Eyed Raven. He was formed from a piece of dragonglass. The Children of the Forest accidentally created him as a way to protect themselves from the Free Men." Now that was interesting. And it made his upcoming trip even more crucial than it had already been.

"That could be something. I'll look into it with Sam when I see him."

"Jon...you need to succeed with this trip. The balance of the war to come is being determined around us and this may just tip it into our favour."

Jon nodded, understanding the simple instructions. "I realised that. I'll try my best."

"No. Your best needs to be bettered. The Night King doesn't rest. Make sure you get there quickly. But take your time in rationalising whatever you learn. You have to ensure that you discover something. Can't you feel it in the air. It approaches with each new day. And you're getting closer to it, I feel that for some reason. Winter." Jon again just nodded, attempting to work his mind around the warning. Does Bran know something that he isn't telling me?

"I should be getting ready. We're leaving tomorrow morning."

"Good luck...brother." And in that moment, Jon realised something important. This new Bran was still the Bran he knew.