A flash of lightning lit up the Red Temple of Volantis, casting dark shadows on the walls, a thickness growing in the air. The summer storms had arrived, something that brought Melisandre comfort. It was the first sign of normality she had felt in the past years. It brought her hope that the Lord of Light would forgive the sins of men. A sharp cry had her turning away from the storm brewing, forcing a smile on her face as her eyes connected with the tearful babe before her. She reached into the child's cot, lifting the small girl into her arms, in an attempt to abate her cries. The infant barely cried after her birth, but in the days since she was stolen away from King's Landing, she seemed to do little else.

"Shall I tell you the story once again, Little One?" Melisandre murmured, as bright blue eyes stared up at her.

"Many years ago, thousands of miles away, a promise was made. One that was upheld for over one hundred and fifty years, without question. The youngest child of the Targaryen's was promised to the Lord of Light and sent to this very Temple at the beginning of winter. That was until the reign of Aerys II Targaryen..." Melisandre trailed off, as the babe's cries grew louder, as they always did at that part of the tale.

"He was a fearful man, driven mad by what I could not say, but his hysteria stirred at the thought of his heirs. His sister-wife Rhaella, was always mindful of her duties and did her best to bestow children upon the King, but alas, many died too young. Only Prince Rhaegar and Prince Viserys made it through infancy. The King grew obsessive in his need to create more heirs...thus, he turned toward his younger sister, Elaena. To keep his bloodline pure. And then, you were born. Healthy, strong...with hair as dark as night" Melisandre sighed, rubbing her hand over the babe's thick hair.

"A bastard. The King believed you to be his child, though I could never be sure. There were rumours Elaena had taken others to her bed, but King Aerys had those rumours crushed, along with the tongues of anyone who would speak them. But there was worse to come. You had been promised to the Lord of Light while you were still in your mother's stomach...but now that the King could see you living and breathing, he refused. He turned his back on the promise that his ancestors had made. The Targaryen's of late rarely believed in R'hllor, but had still been too fearful to refuse the tradition. The Mad King believed he knew better. And so, you were kept in the Red Keep. It was only a matter of days before Robert's Rebellion began" Melisandre continued, as the cries finally ceased.

"I came to your mother, having seen Robert's victory in the flames. I begged her to return you to us...and she did. I stole you away from that place. But your mother was not so lucky. One of her most trusted handmaidens had bestowed her own infant daughter upon the Princess in the weeks before the sack of King's Landing. Aerys was slain by the Kingslayer. And Robert was crowned King. And Elaena Targaryen and the false babe she carried with her, were burnt alive in the Great Hall, on the new King's command. He said it would be what Aerys would want after all" Melisandre spat out, as thunder echoed over her head.

"But...now, you have returned to us. I beg for the Lord's mercy, day and night, though I do not think it is enough. The Long Night is approaching, and you, Little One, are the last known Targaryen. The Prince or Princess that was promised " Melisandre exclaimed, as the infant's eyes slowly fluttered shut.


298 AC

Kaela watched with amusement as Arya's eyes lit up, a look of wonder flashing over her features. She was a strange child, but Kaela was fond of her, nonetheless. If Lord Stark allowed her, his youngest daughter could be a formidable warrior one day. Kaela's eyes flickered down to the object of Arya's wonderment, holding out the Valyrian steel dagger for her to take a better look.

"Would you like to hold it?" Kaela offered, earning a manic nod in response.

She placed the weapon onto Arya's outstretched palm, smiling as the girl let out a giggle, raising the dagger up in the air. It had been almost two years since she had wedged herself into the lives of the Starks, using their most obvious weakness. Honour. When Kaela arrived at Winterfell, with Lord Stark's daughters in tow, having saved them from a group of bandits, the honourable Ned offered her whatever she wished. She had sweetly asked to become a member of his household, perhaps one of his daughter's handmaidens. It was disturbingly easy. Then again, if she was to believe Melisandre's words, this was the path the Red God had set for her...

"It's so light!" Arya gaped, twisting the dagger around in her hand.

"Or perhaps you are finally growing into your muscles" Kaela teased, pinching Arya's upper arm.

"The last time I tried to pick up Robb's sword I almost fell into the mud" Arya pouted.

"Then you must choose your weapon more wisely" Kaela explained, gesturing for Arya to return the blade to her.

"Is that the blade you used to kill the bandits?" Arya inquired, with interest.

"Yes. This dagger sliced through them like a knife to butter. But, it is all about knowing where to cut a man" Kaela went on, as Arya nodded as if she understood completely.

"The chest!" Arya suggested, excitedly.

"Not the wisest choice. Too much muscle and bone for a blade to become stuck. But a swift nick of a knife to the neck and—" Kaela's teachings were interrupted as the door to Arya's chamber was thrown up.

"Arya Stark! You are late to your embroidery lessons... again! " Septa Mordane scolded, glaring at the pair.

Kaela bit her inner cheek to muffle her laughter at Arya's sheepish expression. She now held her dagger tightly behind her back, expecting the Septa had not seen it, or they would both be dragged before Arya's father.

" How will the Gods forgive us? " Kaela sighed, mockingly.

"Enough from you, young lady. A handmaiden should know her place" Septa Mordane muttered, with a scowl.

"Well, I do know many a position, Septa Mordane. Would you like me to recite them for you?" Kaela replied, watching as the old woman's cheeks reddened.

"How you have remained in Lord Stark's service for this long I truly do not know" Septa Mordane shook her head, as Kaela reached out to take Arya's small hand.

"I like to think it's because of my charming personality" She grinned, dragging the young Stark out of the room and away from the Septa's judging gaze.

Truthfully, it was down too much more than that. Kaela had come to Winterfell to do one thing and one thing only, and until that was done, she would not let anything get in her way. So, if that meant having to threaten a stable hand or cook here and there, she had no qualms with it. Kaela placed her blade safely underneath the splits of her dress when she was sure no one was looking.

"Come, we can reach your lessons quicker if we cross through the courtyard" Kaela advised, as the two continued walking hand in hand.

It wasn't long until they came across Arya's brothers training, with Lord and Lady Stark watching closely from above. Kaela grimaced as the young Bran and tried and failed to hit his target with an arrow, causing his older brothers to break down in laughter. She had half a mind to storm across the courtyard and clip Jon around the ear for such a thing, but she knew it would not be proper . The Northern customers were still lost on her at times, but striking a Lord's son would not do.

"I could do better" Arya mumbled, kicking a nearby rock.

"...Go on then" Kaela smirked, as Arya looked up at her with wide eyes.

"If it stops you from sulking the rest of the day, then be my guest" Kaela explained, as Arya was hugging her quickly before running off to grab a bow and arrow.

She could not stop the swell of pride that bloomed in her chest when Arya's arrow reached its target with ease, grabbing the attention of all in the courtyard. Bran was immediately chasing after his sister, muttering a curse under his breath, planning to pull on her hair until her braids fell out. Jon then spotted Kaela from across the courtyard, a knowing smile growing on his lips before he jogged over to her.

"You're a bad influence on her" Jon stated, as Kaela raised an eyebrow.

"Are you questioning my honour, Snow?" Kaela teased, causing Jon to huff out a laugh.

"What little left of it there is" Jon murmured, as she slapped his arm, playfully.

Apart from her Lady, Jon Snow was the only Stark who would often give her the time of day. She wondered if perhaps he could sense her true nature, one bastard to another. Whatever the reason, she appreciated his companionship, sometimes their talks were the only thing that kept her sane in the cold North.

"The delightful Lady Stark is staring at you again" Kaela informed him, having spotted the redhead's glare out of the corner of her eye.

"Let her stare. It matters not to me" Jon retorted, despite the way his shoulders had gone rigid.

"Hmm. Perhaps I should hurl a rock her way, you can blame my horrid aim" Kaela suggested, as Jon shook his head, in disbelief.

"I doubt she would believe that. She dislikes you more than me" Jon huffed.

"For which I am truly honoured" Kaela grinned.

" Snow! Leave your lady love be, father needs us!" Robb called over to his half-brother.

"Do I sense a slither of jealousy, My Lord?" Kaela retorted, as Jon ran a hand down his face, to hide his snigger.

"She is certainly a bad influence on Arya" Robb scoffed, his words directed at Jon.

"My thoughts exactly" He smirked at Kaela, who rolled her eyes.

While she and Robb were not close, as no Stark and Handmaiden could be, they had a certain amount of respect for each other. Robb knew how fond his little sister was for her, and Kaela knew he could run her through if he wished.

"I suppose my mouth does run away with me at times" Kaela murmured.

"Most times" Jon added, mockingly.

"Still, I never see this glum fellow smile as much as he does with you, I suppose you must be doing something right" Robb exclaimed, placing his hand on Jon's shoulder.

"You said father needs us?" Jon asked, fighting against the flush growing on his cheeks.

"A deserter from the Night's Watch. He wishes to bring Bran" Robb informed him.

"Why did he run?" Jon questioned, his brow furrowed.

"The White Walkers" Robb answered, before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

"Perhaps he was in need of some female company" Kaela stated, as Robb shook his head, his snickering finally dying down.

"No...no. He truly says he ran from the White Walkers. I suppose it's a better reason than cowardice" Robb huffed, before beginning to pull Jon away, missing how Kaela's face fell.

Ice ran down her spine at his words, all the breath having left her body at once. Melisandre's myths and legends came swirling to the forefront of her mind, something she had not thought of in months. It was ridiculous, she decided. Men made from ice. A fire God. No. The truth was the only monsters in the realm were men. Men like Robert Baratheon.


A few days passed before the news of Lord Arryn's death reached Winterfell, but that was not what had the castle descended into chaos. They were to receive the King, who was already travelling along the King's Road to speak to Lord Stark. Rumours grew of what he would ask, most expecting he would be made Hand of the King before the turn of the moon. Kaela planned for Robert to take his last breath long before that. Poison, a knife to the chest, even a suspicious accident...any would do if the King would die. In the days before the King's arrival, she had been relieved from her service as a handmaiden and set to work readying the castle for the King's arrival. That morning she had been tasked with clearing the courtyard grounds with nothing more than a wooden broom and bucket of water from the nearby well. She wiped at the sweat that grew on her brow, thinking she would rather be doing anything else when a hand shot out to touch her shoulder. She whipped around instantly, holding the broom up in defence, ready to strike any attacker.

"Valar morghulis" A soft voice spoke, as Kaela's eyebrows shot up.

"Valar dohaeris" Kaela replied, in a hushed voice, as the figure in front of her pulled her hood back somewhat.

Kaela's eyes doubled in size as she found familiar green eyes staring back at her, a smile pulling at her lips despite herself. It took all her restraint to stop herself from pulling the woman in front of her into an embrace, but she could already feel eyes on her from the stablehand.

"Come" The woman exclaimed, gesturing for her to follow.

She was brought underneath a dimly lit archway, as the woman finally removed her hood, red hair coming into view. Kaela held herself back no longer and was wrapping her arms around the woman before she could protest. It had been too long.

"Melisandre, Skoros maghagon ao sīr tolmiot jelmor? (Melisandre, what brings you so far north?)" Kaela asked, feigning innocence as best she could.

" Ivestragon nyke, byka mēre, skoros iksis aōha kȳvanon? kessa ao pryjagon se dārys ilagon isse naejon hen zȳhon vali? ( Tell me, Little One, what is your plan? Will you strike the King down in front of his men?)" Melisandre retorted.

"Lo bēvilagon (If necessary)" Kaela murmured, as Melisandre made a sound of disapproval.

"Pār kostilus iksā hae ribazmoqitta hae aōha kepa iksin (Then perhaps you are as mad as your father was) " Melisandre accused.

A scowl grew on the younger woman's face at those words, her lips pursed in disgust. Whether Aerys Targaryen was truly her father or not, she had no plans to be like him.

" Ziry ossēntan ñuha muña (He killed my mother) " Kaela spat out, as Melisandre reached out to place her hand on Kaela's shoulder.

"Se se Āeksiot Ōño kessa ūndegon issa— (And the Lord of Light will see he is—)" Melisandre began, when Kaela cut her off with a scoff.

"Your God will do nothing. As he has always done" Kaela muttered, watching Melisandre's jaw clench.

"The reason you came to this place is because of the vision He showed me in the flames. I foresaw that King Robert would arrive here, did I not?" Melisandre pushed.

"And what of the Mad King's children? Have you found them yet? Or does Viserys still evade you?" Kaela huffed, as Melisandre gave her a warning look.

"You should be by my side. Once the Long Night arrives, these affairs will be nothing more than a trivial obsession. The Prince who was Promised is all that matters" Melisandre insisted, as Kaela quirked an eyebrow.

"When I was a babe you believed I was to be the Lord's champion. And now you believe it to be Viserys. Who will it be next I wonder?" Kaela mocked, as Melisandre's green eyes narrowed.

"You will come to believe in R'hllor as all do in the end. I can hope it will not be too late" Melisandre mumbled.

"I did not need faith when I was young. I needed a mother" Kaela pointed out, watching as Melisandre's green eyes softened.

The sound of a stone rolling over had the pair twisting around, finding Arya huddled behind a nearby wall, a sheepish expression on her small face. Kaela pursed her lips, hoping the young girl had not heard too much, she dreaded to think what Melisandre would do otherwise.

"Come here, child" Melisandre commanded, as Arya only moved when Kaela nodded for her to do so.

Arya staggered forward, eyes wide and frightful as she came to stand in front of the tall woman. Almost subconsciously, Kaela's hand brushed over the hidden dagger underneath her dress, as the tension in the air grew thicker.

"Did your mother never teach you not to eavesdrop?" Melisandre scolded.

"I wasn't" Arya retorted, in a very unladylike tone.

"It is a great sin to lie. Children have been burnt for worse" Melisandre muttered, as Arya gulped audibly.

"She is Lord Stark's youngest daughter. Perhaps it is you who should watch your tongue" Kaela interjected, pushing herself in front of Arya.

Melisandre seemed taken aback for a moment, not having expected such a reaction from Kaela. Without a word, she pulled her hood back over her flowing red hair, no longer seeming interested in the young Stark girl.

"Do not make the same mistakes as your forebearers, Little One" Melisandre urged, before turning on her heel to walk away into the shadows.

Before she could think too much about what Melisandre had said, Arya was cursing under her breath, earning a tutting sound from Kaela, who then placed her hand on the Stark's shoulder and led her away. She wondered if the day could possibly become any worse.

"What's R'hllor?" Arya inquired, as Kaela bit back a groan.


Kaela pushed herself through the crowds lining the road to Winterfell, desperately trying to spot Arya's face out from among them. It wasn't long until a small figure jumping up atop a cart caught her attention, their brown hair covered in a steel helmet. Grumbling under her breath, Kaela pulled herself up after the young girl, grabbing her by the waist and dragging her away as Bannerman approached. Arya struggled in her grip but allowed her to shove them forward.

"Your Lady mother will have my head if we are not there to meet the King" Kaela muttered.

"I don't see why we have to. It's stupid. And so is this blasted dress" Arya complained, pulling at the collar of her green gown.

"Hush now. I need to be close to your father when he receives the King" Kaela told her, as they made it through the side gate of the castle.

"Why?" Arya frowned, but Kaela gave her no reply.

Telling the little lady that she planned to stab the King through the eye did not seem like the smartest idea. Instead, she pulled off the steel helmet from her head, receiving a groan from Arya. She was then pushing her forward, as Catelyn's eyes met theirs from across the courtyard.

"Of all the days for you to be late..." Catelyn trailed off, tutting as she did so.

"Apologies, Lady Stark. We could not make our way through the crowds with ease" Kaela explained, as Catelyn gave a sharp nod.

Arya rushed forward to shove herself in between Sansa and her youngest brother, Rickon. Kaela took her place behind her lady, brushing shoulders between Jon and Theon. It did not take the latter's eyes long to drift to the bodice of her dress, much to Kaela's annoyance.

"Find another handmaiden to ogle, Theon" Kaela hissed, causing the older boy's lips to pull up into a smirk.

"I was merely thinking how your skills must be wasted emptying little ladies' chamber pots. The brothel outside the castle gates would be better suited..." Theon's words trailed off, as Robb whipped around to give him a warning look.

Members of the Kingsguard were entering the castle gates before Theon could open his mouth again, causing Kaela to grow tense. Her eyes settled on the swords they carried, taking in the sharp edges that could slice through her at a moment's notice. A tall boy road closely behind them, with golden hair, and a pointed face. He wore a satisfied smirk, his own gaze firmly on Sansa, whose cheeks had reddened considerably. A red carriage was next, Lannister banners attached to the top, which blew in the northern winds. More Kingsguard followed soon after, and then...there he was.

Robert Baratheon. The man who had murdered her mother.

She had spent countless nights imagining what he would like. A spiteful man, with arms large enough to crush a man's skull. A monster. But instead, a plump, red face man had to be helped off his horse, his fat belly making it difficult to vault off his horse. Kaela bit her inner cheek, hard enough that she could taste blood, glaring at the old man. She was startled when every man, woman and child suddenly knelt in the mud, their heads bowed in respect. Kaela reluctantly fell to her knees, hands balled at her sides, short angry breaths leaving her lips. She could sense Jon was looking at her, but she kept her head down, knowing nothing but hate would be evident on her features. The King staggered over to the crowd, stopping in front of Ned and gesturing for them to stand.

"You've got fat" Robert announced, as Ned's eyes lowered to the King's stomach before the pair burst into laughter.

They embraced like long-lost brothers, leaving a gap in the front row. Kaela's hand instantly went to her dagger, knowing she could squeeze past Robb and be on the King in a matter of seconds. She could avenge her mother. Her family.

"That's Jaime Lannister. The Queen's brother" Arya's words broke through her thoughts, as Kaela leaned forward to align her sight with the man who had slain the Mad King.

A thousand emotions swirled within her. Hate, disbelief, confusion, even sadness. Once again, the Kingslayer appeared to be just a man. Tall and broad, his sharp eyes surveying the crowds, not a lock of his golden hair out of place. She wondered if the sword by his side was the one he had killed Aerys with. Her father...or simply her mother's raper, she would never know. King Robert had seen to that.

She pulled her gaze back to the King as he greeted each of the Stark children, paying little attention to Arya. All too soon, he was insisting that Ned take him to the crypt to pay his respects. It was clear who he wished to see. His beloved Lyanna Stark. A girl who had unwillingly caused the downfall of a dynasty. Kaela had no hatred for the dead Stark. Melisandre would often tell her how Lyanna and Rhaegar had fallen in love, but Kaela was not so sure. Lyanna was just a girl of five and ten, and Rhaegar was a Prince. How could she refuse his affections?

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait" A feminine voice exclaimed, as the Queen came into view.

A blonde beauty, with full lips and chiselled cheeks. Every man's dream...apart from the King's. He nodded for Ned to follow him, and just like that, Kaela's first chance to kill him was gone. But there would be others, she reminded herself. Many.

"Your Grace, my daughters and their handmaidens will show you to your chambers" Catelyn spoke up, as the Queen pursed her lips.

Her green eyes shone with disgust, likely expecting her 'chambers' to be as dull and dreary as the rest of the North. Still, she nodded in agreement, and Sansa and Arya were pushed forward, with Kaela and Jeyne, Sansa's closest companion, following close on their heels.

"A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace" Sansa announced, curtseying sweetly in front of the Queen, who smiled at her.

Kaela took notice that the smile did not reach her eyes. Cersei turned her gaze to Arya, who stared up at her with disinterest. It took Kaela nudging her for Arya to make a gesture akin to a bow. The Prince who still sat upon his horse snickered at the action, as Kaela glared up at him before she caught herself. As the girls went to lead the Queen away, Kaela suddenly became aware of someone's eyes on her. Her brow furrowed when she found the gaze belonged to none other than Jaime Lannister, whose head was tilted to one side, staring openly at her for all to see. Kaela was quick to turn from him, fear blossoming in her chest. The Kingslayer had been as close to Aerys Targaryen as any, he might have even known her when she was just a babe...could it be he somehow recognised her?


Laughter and merriment filled the halls as the feast entered its fourth hour, the men's faces becoming redder and redder. Kaela kept herself close to Arya, knowing better than to trust drunkards. Every now and then, her eyes would flit over to where Jon sat with the young squires after Lady Catelyn had warned it would be an insult to have him sat with the royal children. When she turned to Arya to tell her to sit with her sister and Jeyne, the young wolf had begun cursing her mother, saying she would not go at all if Kaela was not at her side. Arya's loyalty to her made Kaela's stomach turn. She imagined once the deed was done and Robert was dead, Arya would never trust a soul again.

"Seven Hells" Arya huffed, gesturing to where the King had a barmaid on his lap, burying his face in her chest.

Kaela did not trust herself to speak, only turning her nose up in disgust. She had debated about whether to poison the King's meal, but now she was grateful she had thought better of it. After all, where exactly would she find the poison? King Robert ate off the plates of Ned's men, and drank wine from the goblet of the woman who sat in his lap...he was an unpredictable sort, Kaela realised.

"Arya!" Sansa's voice shrieked, as Kaela turned to see the redhead's face was stained with black pudding.

Kaela bit her lip to stop the laughter that threatened to leave her lips, grabbing Arya's spoon before she could throw any more of her feast toward the sister. Sansa was inconsolable as Septa Mordane rushed forward, gesturing for Kaela to send Arya away.

"Come, let us leave before your food lands on one of the princes" Kaela murmured, hauling Kaela to her feet, as Robb stood also.

"I think I've had enough supper" Robb exclaimed, taking Arya's free arm.

"Keep an eye on Jon, eh? He's drank almost as much as the King" Robb whispered in Kaela's ear, who nodded quickly.

She waved at an irritated Arya as she was dragged out of the hall, who stuck her tongue out toward her before she disappeared into the crowds. Kaela shook her head fondly as she made her way toward the squires' table, finding Benjen Stark speaking to Jon. She hoped he was not talking about the Night's Watch once again. The thought of the curly-haired boy ending up at the wall caused a shiver to roll down her spine. A group of bannerman shoved past her none too gently, almost sending her tripping over her feet, as Kaela edged toward the corner of the feast. She decided she would wait for the crowds to thin before making her way to Jon, rather than attempting to push her way past men twice her size. Without meaning to, her eyes landed on Robert once again, grimacing as he pressed his sweaty lips to the barmaids. She rubbed her hand over her concealed dagger once again, shoulders rigid.

"It is my sister who the King disrespects, yet it is you who looks upon him with such disdain..." A voice called out to her, as she turned to see a handsome face approaching her.

Jaime Lannister strolled toward her, dressed in golden leather, his tunic beneath unbuttoned more than any Northerner would dare. His eyes watched her carefully, a mixture of blue and green, as her mind turned attempting to find a suitable reply.

"Why is that?" Jaime Lannister inquired.

"Perhaps this is how I look at all Southerners" Kaela retorted, as the Lannister raised an eyebrow.

"With an accent like that, you are not of the North" Jaime stated, noting the way her words rolled off her tongue.

"I hail from Volantis, Ser. We have little care for how we speak. All slaves are seen the same" Kaela explained.

"And how is it you ended up in the arse crack of the world?" Jaime pushed.

"A story not interesting enough for a member of the Kingsguard, I would think" Kaela answered, as Jaime's lips twitched.

"You still have not answered my question. Why do you look upon the King with such... hatred? " Jaime insisted, after attempting to find an appropriate word.

"...He disrespects his wife so openly. It is not something I would expect from a King" Kaela lied, thinking it better than the alternative.

"Have you met many Kings then? They do little more than shit, eat and fuck. Sometimes at the same time in regards to our noble King" Jaime informed her, as Kaela's eyes narrowed.

She did not understand why he was talking to her in such a relaxed manner. She opened her mouth to retort, her words ready to run away with her once again but stopped herself at the last moment. Perhaps he was trying to catch her out, she realised, to say something that would cause her head to be placed on a spike.

"Go on. I do not have all night to listen to your words of wisdom" Jaime goaded, sensing she had more to say.

"The King is lucky to have a Kingsguard who thinks so highly of him" Kaela muttered, as Jaime's self-satisfied smirk grew.

"Well said" Jaime all but grinned, his eyes connecting with her own.

He was searching for something she realised. Why he thought he would find it in her gaze, she did not know, nor did she want to find out. She felt as if she was playing a game, one that she was losing. Her cheeks reddened as Jaime's intense gaze remained, surveying her face from the bow of her lips to the black of her hair.

"I will never father a bastard...never! " A familiar voice shouted as silence drew over the hall.

Kaela cringed as she watched Jon shove his uncle away, pushing himself onto unsteady feet and attempting to flee the feast. His got tangled under him, and he lurched sideways into a serving girl, sending a flagon of spiced wine crashing to the floor. Laughter boomed around the hall, as Jon tried to pick himself up, his eyes appearing watery.

"If you would excuse me, Ser Jaime" Kaela exclaimed, as the man reluctantly stepped out of her way.

Before Jon knew what was happening, Kaela had taken his arm in hers and was dragging him away from the amused faces. They didn't stop until they felt the cold air of the night on the cheeks, as Jon rubbed furiously at his eyes. Ghost, Jon's young direwolf, came bounding toward them, clawing at Jon's trousers, red eyes filled with something akin to concern.

"Even the wolf's worried about you, Jon" Kaela pointed out, earning a snort from her companion.

"You know better than to drink so much, especially with the King and his men so close" Kaela continued.

"All the squires were speaking of..." Jon trailed off, with an angry shake of his head.

"Of?" Kaela pushed.

" Bedding girls. And then they asked me of my tumbles, and...how can they speak so jovially of it? Of all the bastards they could be fathering? It is no life for a child!" Jon cried, angrier than she had seen him in some time.

"It certainly is not an easy life" Kaela mumbled, as Jon's eyes widened.

"You had a highborn father?" Jon gaped, as she shook her head.

"A highborn mother. For a year. And then she was gone too" Kaela admitted, as Jon paled somewhat.

"I...I'm sorry" Jon replied, as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

"You still have your father, perhaps you deserve better than that but...this is the life that you have been given. My advice to you...use it" Kaela went on, as Jon gave her a small smile, reaching up to place his hand over hers.

The moment was soon broken as the sound of vomiting echoed through the air. Kaela followed the sound, finding a small man hunched over in the stables, the contents of his stomach lying on the hay. She grimaced as he then appeared to pass out, falling atop his own vomit. It was only then that Kaela realised who was in front of them. Tyrion Lannister.

"Should we call upon his brother?" Jon suggested.

"We may have no love for these people, but to bring a crowd to him in this state feels a tad too cruel. I will fetch some water. Make sure he does not choke on his vomit" Kaela muttered, hearing a low groan come from the Imp.

She set off toward the well on the side of the courtyard when something caught her eye. She stared in disbelief as Bran climbed the Broken Tower, without a care in the world. Kaela found her mouth gone slack as the little Lord jumped from one stone to the next with ease. Just as she opened her mouth to call up to him, a terrible pain split through her skull. She clutched at her head, her temple suddenly feeling as if was on fire. The last thing she remembered was her knees giving out, and her head colliding with the stone ground beneath her.

"This is madness! My father has already won, surrender now and you might keep your life!" A voice cried, as Kaela's eyes slowly fluttered open.

She rolled onto her side, feeling something wet against her cheek as she pushed herself upright. As she touched her skin, she found her fingertips became coated with blood. She must have split her head when she fell...

"Not if you bring me your father's head" A voice croaked from nearby.

Terror pierced through Kaela's very being as she found she was no longer in the courtyard of Winterfell. Instead, she found herself in a large room, with dozens of pillars and...dragon skulls. She jumped back in fright as one of the great beasts' teeth came into view, as large as she was. Her mind attempted to come up with an answer to what she was seeing, but when her gaze looked on, her mind came to a halt completely.

The Iron Throne lay on the other side of the room, a white-haired sickly-looking man perched on it, a crown atop his head. To his left, an old man dressed all in brown, hunched over and then...she saw him. Far younger than he had appeared in Winterfell, but still the same man, nonetheless.

Jaime Lannister.

"I will not" Jaime announced, defiantly, standing tall in front of the crowned man.

Kaela stumbled forward, her eyes narrowing at the form of the man on the Iron Throne. He was thin and gaunt, his hair grew past his shoulders to his waist and became matted. His fingernails were long, appearing more like yellow talons than anything else, hands cut from the sharpness of the Iron Throne. Purple eyes looked down on Jaime, a sneer on his face. When Melisandre spoke of the Mad King, she had never described him so...sickly.

"Burn them all...Pyromancer, burn them in their homes. Burn them in their beds. Burn every last one!" The Mad King screeched, as spit flew off from his lips.

She watched as Jaime unsheathed his sword, placing the tip against the stone floors, his eyes cast down. He seemed to be weighing up a decision in his head, as the man before him stumbled back a step.

"Burn them all!" Aerys screamed, banging his fist on the Iron Throne.

Before he could raise his fist again, Jaime swung his sword out, cutting the Pyromancer's belly in half, his guts spilling out to the floor. Kaela's eyes widened as he then turned to the King, and for a split second, there was true fear on Aerys' face. He tried to run, to flee from the room, but Jaime was upon him before he could descend the steps. He drove his sword through the Mad King's back, his hand shaking as he did so. As he removed his blade, and the King's blood splattered against the Iron Throne, Aerys dropped to his knees. Kaela realised he was still muttering something beneath his breath, and took a step forward, desperate to hear what his last words were.

Burn them all.

Despite the blood swelling in his mouth, the words were still as clear as day. Jaime's jaw clenched before he grabbed the Mad King's shoulder and drew his sword across his neck, causing the man's lips to finally be still. As Aery's body flopped to the ground, the life having left his eyes, a sickening silence engulfed the room. Jaime raised his sword to the ground once more and kneeled in front of it, his eyes scrunched shut, whispering something to himself, too quiet for Kaela to hear. When his eyes opened, she could see they were bloodshot and haunted. As if the man before her had died too—

" Kaela! " A sharp cry startled her, as she whipped around and found Jon standing in front of her, clutching her shoulders.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He asked, reaching out to touch her cheek, as she realised she had been crying.

"Bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys (The night is dark and full of terrors)" She stuttered, before collapsing in his arms, and everything turned black.


Author's Notes: I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! This is a sequel to my other fic Fire and Light, but it can easily be read as a stand-alone story. Please leave a review and ask any questions you have:)