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Chapter Forty-One: Dark Wings.

Two days had passed since Jaime Lannister stepped off a ship and into a city cloaked all in darkness. With Brienne at his side, they made their way through a city subdued by the seemingly endless night. Wary eyes followed them as they went, watching from windows and barely open doorways. Their footfalls had been softened by the fresh-fallen snow that drifted down from the ether, softly smothering the filthy streets. While most had the good sense to stay indoors, the market was still open for trading. But business was slow and conducted with haste, with few braving the weather long enough to stand around chat.

Not everyone had been chased indoors, however. To Jaime's mild consternation, the Faith still preached in the streets, ranting and raving at any who dared pass by. In the silent stillness, their staccato voices carried through rundown ramshackle streets. He could hear their tirades punctuated by the clanking of their chains, nail studded clubs still gripped in their fists and the mutilated faces contorted with righteous fury as they turned the long night to their own advantage. This was the revenge of the gods, a strangling pall to rid the streets of lust, vice and sin.

"Pay them no heed," Brienne had whispered softly in his ear. "You cannot fight them alone."

Nevertheless, his palms itched to tighten those chains until their faces turned purple and their mad, swivelling eyes bulged and burst. Luckily for them, the older Jaime Lannister was the wiser Jaime Lannister, and he kept his horse walking onwards. They followed the flickering lights that lined the ramparts of the Red Keep. The castle itself reduced to a solid black mass against the sky, high on Aegon's Hill.

Once there, he found Cersei acting as if nothing was wrong. Dining on roast boar washed down with a Dornish red, she spent several minutes pretending she had not noticed his arrival. Her hair was shorn, he noted. A gift from the faith before they made her walk naked through the streets. It made her look angular and harsh.

After what seemed an age, she finally spoke. "Since the Tyrells betrayed us, I sent you to the Riverlands to take back Riverrun. Yet, when I last heard from you, you were at the Wall."

"Why did the Tryells betray us?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "You were the one to move against them first. You were the one who cooked up allegations against Margaery and you were the one who threw her kin in a dungeon."

He found himself wondering if Elinor and Megga Tyrell were even still alive. Were they supposed to have been hostages? Held as surety for the Tyrell's continued loyalty even after Margaery had been disgraced and her family cast out of the city. If so, he thought it was a poor tactic.

Regardless of his own feelings, Cersei was unapologetic. She set down her knife and fork, and finally looked up at him. As proud as ever, despite all she had been through, Jaime almost admired her for it. As she rose to her feet, her green eyes glimmered dully in the candlelight. "Father taught us to destroy our enemies. Why am I the only of us who remembers that?"

"Destroy them?" Jaime was aghast. "You succeeded only in pushing Margaery into the arms of Robb Stark-"

"How was I to know the Stark boy was still alive?" her voice grew shrill in a flash of temper. For a moment, he thought she might strike him for merely mentioning Robb Stark, but her anger abated as fast as it had gathered. It was replaced by an icy calm. "Since your little northern adventure, how many times have you been alone with him? And Margaery Tyrell? How many times could you have but a knife in their hearts, but did not? Instead, you joined them. You broke bread with them, you fraternised with our enemies. So, what does that make you, brother?"

"They're only our enemies because you made them our enemies," Jaime retorted. "I'm trying to repair the damage you've done. The damage you've been doing ever since you cut off Ned Stark's head-"

"That was Joffrey!"

"And you just let him do it." Although an oft-repeated argument, Jaime was no less infuriated. But he drew a deep breath, refusing to let her accusations get the better of him. "Had you actually read my letters, you would know they need us. The North needs us. That means there's a chance for us to work with them and come out of this mess with our lives intact."

He said nothing of their current position, that was a promise he could not keep. He had seen those dragons and Daenerys meant to take the realm.

"Why ever would they need us?" Cersei said, dismissively.

"Have you looked outside your windows at all over the last few days, sister?"

Her expression was blank as she instinctively looked to the mullions. "What do you mean?"

"The darkness."

"An anomaly, Qyburn assures me."

"With all due respect, Qyburn hasn't seen what's beyond the wall. I have."

She smiled then. A dismissive, denigrating smirk as her hand swept up the goblet of wine she had been sipping at. He would not dishonour himself by striking her, but the temptation consumed him.

"Your army of the dead," she said, licking the wine from her lips. "I'm more concerned about the dragon Queen, who you were also seen cavorting with. How do you care to explain that?"

"I cavorted with no one," Jaime retorted. "And why do you think Daenerys Targaryen has taken those dragons north instead of here, to the capital? Because she's answered the call of her people to fight the war for the dawn, while you sit here behind these walls pretending it's not happening."

Jaime ducked, just in time for Cersei's goblet of wine to go sailing past his head and into the wall behind him with a metallic clatter. The liquid inside had spilled in the throw, staining his tunic and wetting his hair. He looked to see where the goblet landed by the open door and noticed the Kingsguard on duty. He had not been there before and Jaime didn't know him. He was huge, large enough to block the exit. He was also standing in the same place he had left Brienne, but he could not see her now. It made him uneasy.

"You left Winterfell with Tyrion. Where is he now?"

"Dragonstone. He's overseeing the mining of obsidian."

"Liar. You brought him here to use Tommen against me," she said. Smiling again, she turned to the Kingsguard in the doorway. "Ser Robert, bring me Tyrion's body. I trust you rooted out the little rat."

"I told you, he's not here. There was a change of plan."

Sickened, Jaime turned back to Ser Robert, who shook his head and made no other move. Cersei was not content.

"You searched the King's chambers? Everywhere? He's not here?"

"Give it up, Cersei," said Jaime. "Damn you, just give it up."

He spoke truly. The Long Night began during their journey, prompting the last-minute change. The obsidian became the more urgent need and their Unsullied guard had taken the castle, finding it unguarded anyway. Another of Cersei's failures had been trusting Aurane Waters to take the castle back and he had since sailed off in her fleet, never to be seen again. What troubled him more was how Cersei was getting such detailed information regarding his time at Winterfell and the plans he had made there. Someone in the Stark household was talking.

To his relief, Cersei dismissed her guard and took to pacing the chambers. The hems of her stiff black skirts brushed the floorboards as she went, the noise soon starting to grate on Jaime's nerves.

"You cannot fight them all," he said. "Surely you realise that."

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, glancing at him.

"Start by releasing the Tyrell girls you have locked up and then send a force from the Westerlands north," he suggested. "Show them you wish to join the war for the dawn."

"I cannot release the Tyrell girls," she answered. "The Faith has them, not the crown."

And she armed the Faith, he remembered. Jaime sighed heavily. "You have destroyed this family."

With that, he turned and walked away. Ser Robert was gone, but Brienne was safe. She was waiting for him in the outer-gallery, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. At the sight of her, relief washed over him.

"I heard everything," she said.

"Good. I couldn't relive that even if I wanted to."

"What now?"

It was a good question, he thought. He was also grasping at an answer. "First, to the armoury. I want Widow's Wail back. Valyrian steel kills those things."

"Second?" she asked as they made their way down the steps of Maegor's Holdfast.

"We must speak to the High Sparrow about the Tyrell girls," he said. Then he hesitated, reluctant to admit what was going through his head. It pained him to have to admit it. "And the pyromancers. I must speak with the pyromancers."

Brienne came to an abrupt halt. "Why?"

He hoped it wouldn't be necessary, that he was overreacting. But if the wall fell and the white walkers marched south, destroying all in their wake with no one prepared to defend the city, he didn't see what other choice he had.

"If I can evacuate the city before they get here," he began. "If I can get the people out, we may yet have a use for the Mad King's wildfire."

Brienne paled, her hand tightening around her sword. "Then the wall must hold."

He had defied a king and murdered a Hand to avoid the city going being blown into oblivion. But it was the people he saved, not the buildings and the structures. That could be rebuilt, if they ever managed to beat back the White Walkers. Ah agreed with Brienne that the wall must hold, no matter what.

As far as Jon could tell, there was little to discuss. From where he was looking, the origins of the White Walkers held little by way of relevance. Not when the wall had fallen and those most able to win the war for the dawn were cooped up inside cave. There was little left to discuss. All the same, he had listened. He had listened as the origins of the White Walkers were explained, wondering where it was all leading. Had he guessed before that it was something to do with the Children of the Forest? The answer was an emphatic no, but it hardly seemed important since it still gave no clue as to how to defeat them again.

Then he had slept. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, but the weariness was so great he couldn't move much beyond the place had first sat down in. So he lay beside Robb and shared his furs as the exhaustion took him. The last thing he remembered thinking was how thin and scrawny Robb had become. He awoke alone, dazed and disorientated. Only when Daenerys handed him a cup of steaming liquid did he start to get his wits back.

"They killed me," he told her.

Her brow creased. "What?"

This was not the place, although he had an unnerving feeling Bloodraven already knew everything. He got up and took her hand, found Robb and signalled for him to follow. After leading them through a network of caves, following his nose until they were at a safe distance, he told them both what had happened. The case he brought against Thorne for mutiny, the assassins waiting for him in the shadows of the yard, Rhaegal burning Castle Black. That was the last thing he saw before he woke up with Melisandre of Asshai looming over him.

"You can't have been dead," said Robb. "It's not possible."

Jon hesitated before opening his shirt to show them the wounds. One of the livid, purple marks was directly over his heart. Another between his ribs while a third came from a knife that barely glanced off his stomach. It would never have been fatal, unlike the first. Daenerys flinched from the sight before her but quickly composed herself. Robb seemed lost for words.

"Everyone involved should be rounded up and hanged," said Daenerys.

Jon managed a wry smile. "I think Rhaegal took care of them."

"This doesn't make you one of them, does it?" said Robb. But he shook his head. "You look the same, though. You're not…"

"A wight," Jon finished for him. If he was honest, he had thought the same himself.

"It's different when the red priests do it," said Daenerys. "They use fire, not ice."

Both Jon and Robb turned sharply to look at her. Without prompting, she continued: "We saw a lot of them in Braavos and the Free Cities. Nor am I a stranger to fire magic."

Before they could digress, Jon told them about the wall. Even now, he did not know the full extent of the damage, but he knew it was bad enough. Enough for the white walkers to pass through the chasm and into the realm at large. These were the things he should have been discussing with them as soon as he arrived, but Bloodraven insisted on a history lesson. Now they exchanged worried looks before pulling themselves together.

"I'm going to get Bran and then we're leaving," said Robb.

Jon turned to Daenerys. "Can you take him and Lady Reed on Drogon? He's crippled and will never make it back to the wall in time."

"Of course," she agreed. "But what about the giant? The dragons cannot carry him."

In his haste, Jon had almost forgotten Hodor and he silently cursed himself.

"I'll bring him back," said Robb. "On land."

"No, you're coming with me," said Jon. "On Rhaegal."

But Robb wasn't for turning. "We can't leave him. Not after everything he's done for Bran."

There was only one easy solution that wouldn't delay their departure any longer. "Then I'll come with you, too. Daenerys can lead the dragons back to the wall." Turning to her, he added: "Take them to Eastwatch, Castle Black is destroyed."

Jon was still worried about Robb. Years on battlefields from the North to the Westerlands had taken their toll, along with his recent excursion north. He had noticed it when they were reunited, the night before. But if they were together, he wouldn't get lost again and they wouldn't leave Hodor behind. It was a chance he had no choice but to take.

However, as he spun around to get out of the caves, one of the Children was watching from the aperture in the rockface. "You cannot leave."

"We have to, now move aside," said Robb, brusquely.

But the Child didn't move. It wasn't Leaf, but another that had been watching them stealthily from the moment they all first arrived.

"Bloodraven already knows what you were talking about-"

"Good, then he'll know it's urgent," Jon cut over her.

"It's been an honour, but I am sure you can make our excuses," said Daenerys.

The Child was fully blocking the exit, her thin arms outstretched so that her hands were flat against the sides of the aperture. "He won't let you leave."

"Why?" Daenerys' patience had snapped. "We cannot hang around here listening to stories."

But Jon had developed a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. A sense of dread that had been finely honed in his years of wandering the northern wastelands and the tactics its people used. He stepped around both Robb and Dany, putting himself between them and the Child of the Forest. "Why are you trying to keep us here? Are we your prisoners?"

Something stirred at the back of his memory, a vision Melisandre had told him about. The man with the face of the tree, working for the Great Other. He tried to shunt the memory aside, reminding himself Melisandre's was an imperfect art. But not when it came to resurrecting the dead, said a small voice at the back of his mind. As ever, with Robb, he did not need to speak out loud to communicate that everything was fucked. He knew already.

Kneeling so that he was level with the Child, Robb spoke as genially as possible. "You are among the last of your kind. Stand aside now, and your race will stand a much better chance of survival."

The implicit threat held no fear for their captor. "The Wall is fallen, the white walkers are already on their way-"

"Why?" Jon cut in. "Why don't you want us to stop them?"

"Because you cannot," answered the Child. "But you must survive. The last greenseer must survive."

Something about this didn't ring true. It only made Jon more anxious to be out of there. And Dany, lacking his and Robb's compunction about attacking someone much smaller than themselves, barrelled past the Child and knocked her aside. "Come on," she called back to the other two.

Jon and Robb hastened after her, following her into the darkness of the caves. He had been in such a rush to evade Bloodraven that he hadn't paid attention to where he was going. They passed into a cavern full of entombed singers staring sightlessly at them. It made Jon's blood run cold, but they were more dead than alive. There was little and less he could do for them.

"Jon, this way," said Robb, giving him a shove.

As they headed into the corridor, a shrill voice echoed through the stones. "They're leaving! Stop them!"

On the turn of a hair, all hell broke loose. A loud explosion sounded from deep within the caverns, smoke billowing around the corner soon after. Someone came running, shouting at the top of their voice: "What's happening?"

It was Lady Meera and Jon breathed a sigh of relief. "We've got to leave, now."

"But why?" she protested. "What about Bran and Hodor?"

She said that as if they were being left behind. It was Daenerys who answered her. "Your mentor has been helping the Others all along and now we need to go."

"We'll explain later," Robb promised. "Just get Bran ready now."

Hodor was in a panic, calling his own name over and over. But Robb got to him and calmed him down as Jon finally located Bran again. His brother was tangled up in the roots, encased and out of reach with his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Only the whites showed.

"Bran!" Jon called. "Bran wake up! We're leaving now."

There was no response, so he shook him. As he shook him, he felt the roots grow tighter as they only succeeded in getting more tangled up. "Bran, please!"

Behind him, Bloodraven stirred in his prison of roots and spoke in a voice as dry as dust. "You're too late now, Jon Snow. The wall is breached. Winter is coming."

The air was filled with the sound of cawing ravens, growing closer and louder faster than Jon liked. In his haste, he pulled sharper on Bran's roots in an effort to free him. But it was Hodor, using his superior strength that finally wrenched his little brother free.

"The Three-Eyed Crow was helping us," Meera protested.

"He was tricking you," said Jon. He remembered what he was told the night before. The Children made the Others to get revenge on the First Men. A weapon that spun out of their control and now their time had come again. They, the ones set to defeat them, had been lured to these caves to get them out of the way. Bran had been the bait.

Hodor slung Bran over his shoulder. He had woken up but was too disoriented to say anything. Whatever he muttered under his breath, it was lost among the cacophonous screeching of thousands of ravens and crowds, now flocking through the network of caves. Jon had to slash at them as they fled back though the tunnels and passageways. One dived at him, but Dark Sister cut a swathe through the winged beasts. All the while, smoke rapidly filled the tunnels, blinding them as they ran for the exit, with Meera leading the way.

At one point, Daenerys tripped and hit the ground hard. Jon heard her cry of pain and had to grope in the darkness to haul her up again. They didn't stop and she stumbled again as she tried to regain her footing. They reached the bridge high over the rushing river, where the air was a little clearer. For a moment, Jon was able to breathe easily again. But all the ravens still swarmed around them, one of them clawing at his scalp as they made their escape.

Gripping Dany's hand, he made for the pale light at the end of the cavern, certain it was the way out. When he reached it, he hit the side of the entrance so hard he saw stars. But the open, clean air brought him around again. As Robb emerged, he clutched at a stitch in his side. More disturbingly, the swarms of ravens sped out of the narrow awning all around them and took to the skies. Breathless and sweating, Jon watched them for a moment, trying to work out what was wrong with them.

It was Drogon's roar that jolted him out of his reverie. He spun around, to where the black dragon had slipped his ties and now roared fire down on the woods, while Viserion snapped at the birds swarming into the skies. Several were burned mid-air and disintegrated on sight. Only Daenerys' Valyrian command brought the dragons to heel.

"There's something over there," he said, drawing her attention. "He was attacking."

"I'll manage it," she assured him. Before mounting Drogon, she turned to him a final time. "I'll come back for Bran and Meera. You lead on land and we'll shadow you. You won't be on your own."

No, he thought. He was no longer alone.

The raven arrived at what should have been dawn. Before too long, Qyburn was at Jaime's door with the missive in his hands. It was obvious he'd already read it, but Jaime wasn't about to pick a fight over the transgression, although it was clearly addressed to him. "From the Night's Watch," he said, looking over to Brienne.

They were in the White Sword Tower, collecting the last of his belongings. But the raven changed everything.

"Unless there's something else, my lord hand," he said curtly, looking to the older man. "Then that will be all."

He left, but only reluctantly. Once they were alone, he handed the note to Brienne rather than read it aloud, and gave her a moment to digest the grave news. After a second, she looked up at him and said: "You must show it to the Queen Mother. It might change her mind."

Poor Brienne, ever the optimist.

"If the North falls, we must prepare to defend the city," he said. "The people come first."

He hoped she remembered the previous day's conversation. And he could see by the look in her eyes, always so expressive, that she did remember. All too well. "You can leave, if you wish. Return to Tarth. An Island might be safe. There would be no shame in it."

He didn't need to ask. He already knew what the answer would be.

"I am not leaving you."

"You serve the Starks."

"The Starks gave me leave to attend you, my lord. With you, I stay."

The light was poor, but they found each other easily enough. Jaime lifted his one good hand and placed it on her breast plate, over the place he knew her stout heart beat a steady rhythm. After a loaded moment in which he did not know what he would do next, she placed her hand over his and held it there. With her free hand, she pressed Widow's Wail to his chest.

Thanks again for reading, reviews would be lovely if you have a minute.

Apologies for the long delay. But with all my main PoVs in one place, I was a bit stuck on how to move this forwards. But it was high time to have PoV's in King's Landing, especially now.