3

MELISANDRE

The real work was about to begin. Yes, sacrifices had been made, and more would soon come, but that was not something I intended to concern myself with yet. First, there was the war to come. First, there was Ser Davos.

"I ... I was wrong. Please, I beg you." Davos furrowed his brow in an expression of shock. Surely, an admission of error was not something he had heard from my lips before.

Davos sat upright, releasing me from his grip. The tight wrinkles of his face softened, and tears shone in his eyes. Looking embarrassed, he blinked and wiped them away in one quick motion. "Lady Melisandre," he managed, "what happened to Princess Shireen? I need to know."

"All will be revealed in time," I assured him, smoothing my cape where he had ruffled it, "but not here. Surely you know The Night's Watch is not to be trusted." Feeling suddenly encouraged and excited by the task at hand, I rose to my feet. "Let us talk in Lord Snow's chambers."

Davos raised an eyebrow. "Alone? With you? That didn't work out too well for old Gendry."

Despite the excitement swelling in my breast, I remained impassive. "Yes, I forgot about Gendry. Hasn't everyone?" I smiled. "He isn't coming back."

Davos puffed out his chest. "He's too important not to come back."

I smiled. "How funny that you say that."

As Davos went to find us some wine, I retreated into the recesses of the late Lord Commander's quarters and lit candles in deference to R'hllor. In apology. My eyes focused on one and for a moment, I saw his final moments. Traitor. Deserter. You deserted him. I saw Stannis, collapsing at the base of a tree, a grimace of pain and absolute defeat etched upon his face, blood pooling beneath his leg, his men scattered, dead, on the frozen ground. The expression in his eyes was unbearable to see. It was filled with the knowledge that the sacrifice of his daughter was not enough to turn the tide against the Boltons. And that it was not enough to warrant the victory because he was not the one true king, that his destiny was not to take the Iron Throne but to be killed, ultimately, not in vainglorious battle, but by a stranger. Her eyes, not mine, would be the last his would ever see.

"He's dead, isn't he?" It was Davos, a flagon of wine in hand. It was the closest anyone would ever come to seeing my tears.

"He?"

"Stannis."

I turned and crossed the room to the massive oak slab that had served as Jon Snow's desk. "Stannis. Queen Selyse. And Shireen." What a waste, I thought to myself. Considering the unnecessary - and horrifying - sacrifice of Shireen as a final gift to R'hllor to assure Stannis's successful capture of Winterfell was something I could not allow myself to envision, or even think about. Nor were the feelings I had almost developed for Stannis himself. Certainly, many months had past since the union that created the shadow that had killed his brother Renly.

As I spoke, my fingers danced across the letter that Snow had been writing when he had been interrupted and betrayed. "The Baratheons are all dead." I could barely believe the coldness in my own voice, but then remembered what I had sacrificed back in Asshai in exchange for the power of blood magic. "What I thought I saw in the flames was wrong. Stannis was not the one true king." I paused, searching Davos's lined face for reaction. He would never know how much it pained me to admit that my interpretations of R'hllor's signs had steered me further and further away from the truth. Of course, it had been my interpretations of these visions in the flames - not the visions themselves - that had been wrong; Melisandre erred, not R'hllor.

We had not come to The Wall to play out Stannis's role in the war. My powers were at their strongest here not because of our proximity to the Dead, but because here, at the edge of the world, we were closest to the truth.

Davos didn't reply, but I could feel him listening.

"I truly believed that Stannis Baratheon was the one true king, Ser Davos. I believed this for a long time, because it was what I was shown in the flames. What I thought I was shown." I paused, thinking of the blue roses I had begun to see in the flames shortly after I had arrived at the Wall for the first time. And the hammer. "And I was taught, a long time ago in Asshai, to believe in the power of blood magic. That belief has not swayed."

I could not be sure, but in the light of the red candles surrounding us, I thought I saw the glint of tears. "How do you remain faithful to someone who ... who shatters you so? How can you keep believing in anything?"

"Faith can be a strong thing, Davos, a very strong thing. When it is shaken, it can be very hard to reclaim. But it can be."

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, I don't believe in blood magic," he said, raising his voice slightly, "but in a way, know what you mean." He dropped his eyes. "Stannis was my king, too. I had faith in him. I thought he was a good man. Stern and stubborn as seven hells, but a good leader. And a good father. I would've done anything to get my son back, you know? And he allowed this to happen to his child?"

I felt his anger and hatred ebb and flow like the slate-gray seas off Dragonstone. I considered putting my hand on Davos's shoulder in what I have heard is a common Westerosi expression of comfort, then decided it was far too soon.

"I understand if you blame me, Davos, but I hope you see that I was following my beliefs. Much like you followed what - who - you believed."

He squinted at me. "I don't know, Lady Melisandre, if I'm ready to say just that. I'm not going to kill you, but I'm a long way from sayin' we're the same."

I heard a slight squeak from the hallway outside the heavy wooden door. Davos froze.

"Enter," I called, and the young boy entered, holding a tray of some unidentifiable meat and a wedge of cheese veined with mold. Immediately I recognized him as the boy who plunged his dagger into Jon Snow's heart, that final dagger in the snow. He trembled in my ruby gaze.

"M'lady," he muttered, "Thorne asked me to tell you that we'll be burning Lord Snow's body within the hour in the main yard."

I stared at the boy, but said nothing for a long moment, feeling satisfied at his clear state of unease. "I would like nothing better."

His mouth dropped open, but he did not speak, and after a moment, he departed the room. Davos gazed at me strangely.

"Are we safe here?" he asked. "Because I'm gettin' the distinct feelin' that we're not."

"We're not safe anywhere, because ..."

"I know, I know. 'The night is dark and full of terrors.' How about somethin' a little bit more cheerful?" Davos poured himself a cup of wine - there were no glasses - and drank it. "I suppose I don't know what to do with myself, now that I've no king to serve."

Preventing my polite smile from turning into a smirk proved to be a challenge. "I'm not sure I would say that."

"I'm afraid to ask what you mean."

Calmly, I seated myself behind Snow's desk, the same spot in which he had sat in the moment when I had offered myself to him and he had so honorably refused. It was time to share the truth with Davos. "I was wrong about the one true king. Azor Ahai is here, at The Wall. He always has been."

Davos looked at me wearily. "More Lord of Light? I don't know if I can listen to much more of this, Lady. Perhaps you should stop."

"Remember what I said, Ser Davos. Faith can be shaken ... but it can also be reclaimed."

Now Davos just looked old. Old and exhausted. He would have to rest and then rouse himself if he wanted to be an effective Hand of the King.

"I was wrong about the identity of the one true king because I was weak. When Stannis' army deserted, I could no longer ignore my doubts." I took a breath. "But the army of the dead is still coming, and The Long Night is soon to fall. We are walking in twilight." My voice grew stronger with each word. "Our only hope is the sword in the darkness. And that is Jon Snow. He is the one true king."

Davos's brows drew together in confusion. "And how do you intend ..."

"Faith can be reclaimed," I repeated, placing my wine glass back down on the desk. I would need my mind clear this time, as I would make no more mistakes.