Note: A short one. But next chapter is longer, trust.
Chapter 12: Kneel
The smell of burning flesh clung to Eira. She didn't think it would ever fully leave.
The Knights had come for her again. Tormund refused to let go until she squirmed her way out, stuttering out apologies and how she'd be ok and didn't want him to get killed too. The Wildings needed him now. He was the closest they had to a new King.
Eira wasn't sure what her Giant was thinking, his face was grief stricken, he suddenly looked so old, so worn out. His eyes were bloodshot and shone in the moonlight with unshed tears. Hers were flowing freely, and continued until she was thrown back into her lonely cell to rot.
And rot she did.
Once again left in a dank, dark cell. No food or water. No sound other than her own breathing.
It took less time for her to break than before.
She counted two days before she started imagining Tormund coming to her cage door and telling her that he was leaving her at the castle. That he was finished with her fire and ceremonies and blood magic. That if it wasn't for her, Melisandre wouldn't have known about them. They'd have had more luck in the battle. The Crows wouldn't have been prepared. Mance would be alive.
On day four, as Eira was once again plagued by visions of her Giant hating her that Ygritte's Crow, fucking traitor, graced her presence.
He passed a small roll of bread through the cell but Eira didn't take the bait. Last time an enemy fed her a King died.
"I can take you to the rest of 'em" He said softly, his eyes were brown and gentle as a doe "We don't treat prisoners like this 'ere. I'm sorry that you were kept like this. Stannis's orders. But I'm in charge of your care for now."
Eira didn't respond. But the young Crow seemed hellbent on her being reunited with her people. If they still considered her one of their own. After months and months of trying to prove herself, ruined over a night of food, wine, and a bloody new dress. He'd opened the gate and, as gently as he could, pulled her to her feet and marched her to the other side of the jail, where all of the cells were full with Wildings. Each cell had at least two people inside, but were larger with a bucket, cup of water, and metal dish in each one. At the end was Tormund's, who was chained to the floor inside.
She ignored the man and rushed at his full water cup, treating herself to a single drink before rubbing what dripped from her mouth over her cracked lips.
"So you think because you gave me a pretty little cell mate I'll rat on my people Snow?" Tormund growled, glaring up at the Crow.
"I know who she is Tormund. Besides, this is not for you. She's been damn near abandoned on the other side of the cells for days. S'not right."
"A lot of things here aren't right." Eira murmured, her voice hoarse like a crone. She shuffled backwards, back to the wall and side glued to Tormund, gaining comfort from the warmth of being close to another being.
"Look I've found land South of The Wall. But I can't just give it to yous without anything in return. Tormund. You gotta give me something 'ere." The Crow paused and turned fully towards Eira. Those doe eyes looked heartbreakingly sad. Eira didn't see Ygritte amongst the WIldings at Mance's murder. She assumed the worst. "One of the conditions to the Wildings being given land is that you stay with Stannis. You're to be brought to his quarters once agreed."
"Fuck off" Tormund growled, the low rumble of a bear. "You think we're that fuckin' stupid that you think promising this so-called King a shag with my misses will grant us safe passage and land behind The Wall?" He scoffed, "Whatever Ygritte saw in you is besides me."
"Don't" The Crow choked. Tormund relented. They were close too, him and Ygritte. Eira wished she'd gotten more time around her, to now have her gone forever. He composed himself briefly, and continued.
"Tormund it's her or everyone, left behind The Wall, to be killed off and brought back to destroy everything they touch."
The Giant stared without a word, deadly even whilst chained.
Eira knew this was punishment. Melisandre had more power than she could ever think of. Had told her of her God's name, of all her gifts and magic and how one day Eira could possess all of them. Then she cried out to Mance, ripped herself away from Melisandre, and made it known she would never choose her over her people. She still wouldn't.
"Take me there."
"Eira shut it"
"No, I'm serious. I'll go!"
She turned and kissed her Giant on the cheek, pressing her forehead to his.
"This is for the best my Giant" she whispered as low as she could, so the Crow couldn't hear,"you need to be there for our people. There's still so many still beyond The Wall. Lead them South. I will find you."
Tormund leant into her forehead, icy eyes into summer blue, he didn't say a word but didn't have to, Eira knew it was goodbye.
She stood on her weak legs and turned to the Crow who signalled for a guard to escort her to her fate.
The walk to "King" Stannis Baratheon's chambers felt like a march to the pyre. Maybe she was heading to execution. The Crow hadn't said exactly what would happen if she chose to leave.
Waiting for her was Melisandre, looking as cool and regal as she did when she knelt in front of Eira's cage, before Mance's death sentence.
"What do you want?" Eira spat out.
"Now now, that is no way to speak to a higher ranking Priestess, I am one of the most experienced, most gifted in all of Essos. It is said that I am a direct link to R'hllor himself. I carry out our Lord's wishes with no question or mercy. I get what needs to be done. Done." She circled Eira as she spoke, slowly and sternly, like her mentors back in Mance's camp during the final days of training.
"If you're so great why do you want me here?"
"You, you silly little girl, have potential. And in my visions I see us fighting against the darkness together. So." The woman circled back to come face to face with Eira, looking down her nose at her, "together we will be. Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming."
"There was no reason to kill Mance, you just did that as a power play. You think killing our King will make us weak and bow to your Stannis but it won't. We're the Free Folk. Not Westeros folk."
Melisandre smirked, a soft hand falling onto her cheek. "Now dear, you know as much as I do that sacrifice of a human life is the most powerful ceremony of all. And brings the biggest prize."
Eira was disgusted, she jerked her head away from the woman's touch, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh come on now Eira," A sickening, gloating look spread across the woman's face, looking all the image of a cat who'd eaten the canary, "Deep down you know you were only granted your gift because your little baby brother, that innocent newborn, was alive as you burnt him."
"NO!" Eira felt like she'd been slapped, stabbed, thrown off The Wall. That wasn't true. She'd have known. He was a stillborn he must've been. He was so mangled and twisted, there was no chance he could've been alive.. Right?
"That's.. That's not true. I-I'd know I'd know if he was alive. I would never burn someone. Burn a child"
"Believe whatever you want. But we both know." She continued to smirk, it turned Eira's stomach. "Anyways, debate aside. Your King Stannis has ordered you to travel with us, think of it as a mentorship. I will show you what true power is like, and you will serve me, and him, to win his rightful place on the Iron Throne. And as he is a generous King, in return he will allow your Free Folk to stay behind The Wall, in safety."
"All of them will be freed from the cells? Can use the tunnel to bring back more Wildings?"
"Yes" She smiled, "All for the little price of you learning unimaginable power, becoming a priestess in your own right," A scoff, "Oh now remove that face you're being offered the opportunity of a life time, in Essos a young priestesses would burn who villages down for this opportunity."
"I don't think I like the sound of Essos."
Melisandre's laughter was like tiny bells, she was so perfect Eira couldn't imagine why Stannis would need anyone else. The whole story seemed off. Eira didn't believe a word of Melisandre's promises now. Not after Mance.
But the Wildings needed that land. Needed safety.
"I'll do it."
"Then kneel." A male voice came from behind her, Stannis looked old, haggard and grey. Eira couldn't imagine him in battle, he looked like a cold would ruin him.
She knelt.