Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or A Song of Ice and Fire

This chapter introduces, Robert Arryn, son of Lysa and Jon Arryn, presented in the show as Robin to avoid confusion with the king. Kind of like changing Asha to Yara to avoid confusion with Osha. So according to show developers and writers, we the viewers are stupid :(

I however have more faith in the intelligence of my readers :)

The Phoenix and the Griffin

Chapter 8: A long night

Night was approaching, Daylen did his final checks. The barrels of oil he found had been moved to where the dead would approach from. He had convinced the revered mother to bless some amulets for the knights left in the village. Then there was the proper steel, Owen was the black smith, the mayor Murdock told Daylen how the man had locked himself in his shop and refused to help. Having Leliana pick the lock, Daylen and Alistair were hit by the stench of booze.

"Maker's breath what is that smell, it's like someone set a brewery on fire," Leliana said.

"Somebody's been drinking," Alistair commented.

Owen was angry at first, then Daylen sat him down and spoke to him. It turned out that Owen's daughter Velanna was a maid in the castle, one of many servants still in there. The man looked pathetic when he was drunk, but he was right to be frightened. Looking at the man reminded Daylen too much of what had happened at Honnleath. He didn't want to make a promise he couldn't keep, but the militia needed good armour and weapons.

"I want a promise. Promise me that you'll look for her, that you'll bring her back to me if you can," despite Owen's slurs, there was genuine sadness in his voice.

"I promise you, we'll look for her," Daylen said.

The man promised to sober up, and was already in the process of restarting the forge when Daylen walked out. As he did, he passed Morrigan.

"Oh lovely, shall we next begin rescuing kittens from trees?" she asked, putting excitement into her voice.

"Do you know where some are?" Daylen asked.

"What?"

"Well I figured we'd get started, so what do you know?" Daylen smirked as Morrigan shook her head.

"Infuriating, must you help everyone?"

"Fences and flowers," Daylen said.

"What are you going on about?" Morrigan asked.

"My limit, I can't paint to save my life, and I don't have the organisational skills to look after flowers," Daylen stated.

Alistair and Leliana both chuckled as Morrigan shook her head.

"Still, what you're doing is a good thing," Leliana said.

"We'll have to go to the castle eventually, so really it costs nothing," Daylen said.

They next had to convince a dwarf named Dwyn, he was a fighter, he even had two Chasind warriors with him. Convincing the dwarf to fight was easy, when he gave him the promise of future riches. In truth, Daylen suspected that the Arl or Teagan would have future concerns beyond paying dwarf. Still, it would be good to gain the favour. Leaving Dwyn's house, Daylen could see the men, some too old or too young, their armour ill fitting. Some armour was still being given out, he noticed Carver putting on a chain mail shirt, then putting his yellow vest back on. He saw Marian preparing arrows with some of the other archers, Garret and Bethany preparing poultices. Aveline stood with the other recruits, having just finished putting on leather armour.

"It seems saving those people at Lothering wasn't a mistake," Daylen looked towards Leliana and Alistair.

Gone was her chantry robe, instead she was wearing a set of red and black leather armour, with thigh high boots and an armoured sleeve. Alistair held a helmet and a steel kite shield.

"There isn't a lot more we can do, fancy a drink before we face off against death?" Alistair asked.

"Isn't the kind of thing we want to face sober?"

"I think it's better to just keep each other company before the battle," Leliana said.

Daylen nodded his head, he wanted to collect a few things first though. Walking along the table with the armour on, he took a set of viridian greaves and gauntlets. Removing his top, he took a leather chest plate. Then he took a horned helmet off of the table, holding it by the horn as he walked with Alistair and Leliana to the bar. Despite the fears of impending death, the keeper was profiting, people were still drinking. The girl who served the dreams was a beautiful red head, who kept up a good smile.

"She is quite pretty isn't she?" Leliana asked, smirking when she saw Daylen's cheeks flush.

"Well, I do like red heads," Daylen grinned when Leliana blushed as well.

"Now I feel like I'm not welcome," Alistair muttered.

"This is my first time in a tavern," Daylen said, playing with the hair coming out of the back of the helmet.

"Sometimes I forget you grew up in a tower, you're not at all like other mages I've met," Leliana said.

"You've met mages?" Alistair asked.

"Well yes," Leliana shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, they do let mages out of course."

"Not often, maybe to heal some rich noble or entertain at a gala, but other than that, we don't get let out that much," Daylen said.

"That simply isn't true Daylen."

"It is Leliana, have you ever seen a circle mage heal a sick peasant child?" he asked.

Leliana was about to speak, but whatever she had to say she wouldn't say it. She just nodded her head in agreement. Alistair fidgeted, sitting between the mage and sister suddenly made him feel uncomfortable.

"You could heal a child," Leliana said.

"I can't heal anyone," Daylen said.

"Why not?"

"Do you know why my eyes are red?" Daylen asked.

When they didn't answer back, Daylen continued.

"Blood magic has a price, blood of course, but sometimes it likes to take a little more too. For me, it was the ability to use healing spells, no matter how much I study or practice, I can't use healing magic. And if that wasn't enough the magic altered how my eyes looked, I used to have the blue eyes of an Amell, that was the only thing that made people certain I was one of them, all I wanted to do was save someone, now people get uncomfortable when I look them in the eyes," he explained.

He finished his cup of ale and placed it on the bar. Before he could take his had away, the serving girl, Bella began pouring another cup. She leant across the bar, putting her face inches from Daylen's.

"You don't make me feel uncomfortable," she said. "Your eyes are red, I don't see the problem with that. When you actually look at them, I can tell what kind of person you are," she touched Daylen's with the tips of her fingers. "Kindness, that's what I can see, you are kind and brave, and much too hard on yourself. But you have the eyes of someone worth knowing."

"If this is how you get a tip, you're going the right way about it," Daylen retorted and Bella laughed.

"Our secret okay," she put her finger to her lips in a hush pose and walked away.

"It seems the red eyes work in your favour," Alistair grinned.

"Most girls wouldn't be attracted to a man with scars," Daylen said.

"Well that's putting labels on girls, but you're right, some girls probably do want that story book prince, long flowing hair, handsome face. A few women want that too, but those girls and women are idiots. Smart women, see the beauty that lies in a man's actions, in their intent. Besides, in my experience most princely looking men are monstrous," Leliana explained.

"Experience?" Daylen and Alistair raised their eyebrows.

The former sister blushed and looked at both men shaking her head as they laughed.

"No not when you put it like that, it isn't as if I've...oh my, please forget I said that," she said.

Alistair and Daylen continued to laugh, and Leliana cringed in embarrassment. When Alistair finished his drink, Daylen raised the green blade.

"You should use this in the battle ahead," he said.

"Are you sure? That boy wanted you to use it," Alistair said.

"I know, but it would be better off in the hands of someone who knows how to properly use a sword," Daylen stated, placing the weapon on Alistair's lap.

The former templar half drew the blade, analysing the runes and more importantly the edge.

"It is a good sword, but it isn't meant to be used with a shield, which is what I'm best at. The sword would be used at its best with two hands," Alistair slipped the scabbard through his belt, nodding a thank you to Daylen.

The trio stood up, Daylen's eyes drawn to an elf sitting in the corner. He was sitting alone, dressed in armoured mail, with a bow on his back.

"Hey Bella, who is that over there?" Daylen asked.

"Berwick, a traveller, keeps to himself, in fact I haven't seen him speak to anyone," Bella said.

"When did he arrive?"

"Some time before the dead started invading."

Daylen put a few coins down for drinks, grabbing two cups and taking them over to Berwick.

"Not looking for company," the elf said sharply.

"Oh don't be like that Berwick, you looked a little lonely," Daylen said.

"How do you know my name?" the elf demanded.

"It's going to be a tough night, we should finish our drinks and go to the militia, they're going to need some help," Daylen said.

"Then go and help them, I don't live here," Berwick said.

"Yeah there's a point, not a lot of travellers here, not a lot of people coming into the village in general," Daylen explained.

"Except for you," Berwick retorted.

"My group and I, we're refugees from Lothering, what about you, where have you come from?" Daylen asked.

"I don't need to tell you, look just because you're a grey warden doesn't mean you can go around harassing people," Berwick said.

He seemed brave, in control for a moment, until he saw the smirk cross Daylen's face.

"I didn't tell anyone that I was a Grey Warden, I didn't tell Murdoch, I didn't tell Lloyd or even Bella over there. Bann Teagan knows, maybe I'll go ask him who he's been talking to," Daylen began to rise, the Berwick panicked.

"Wait, please don't do that, listen, I'm just doing what I was told to do all right?"

"Make it easier for yourself and talk," Daylen said.

"Okay, okay, I was asked to watch the castle and report what I saw," Berwick began, raising his hands in some vain attempt to calm Daylen. "But then this mess started and I wasn't able to report anything, now I'm just trying to stay alive."

"I understand, who told you to watch the castle?" Daylen asked.

"A tall man, I forgot the name, what I do remember is that he worked for Arl Howe, Loghain's right hand, here he gave me an official letter," Berwick reached into his pack, removing a scroll with a broken seal on it.

"What does it say?" Alistair asked as Daylen read it.

"It says you should change your haircut that's how they track us," Daylen said and Alistair shook his head. "Instructions to watch the castle for movement from the Arl's knights, specifically he wanted Berwick here to report of two individuals matching our descriptions. Promise of payment, thanks for services on behalf of the realm ,etc, signed Arl Rendon Howe," Daylen folded the letter and put it into his bag.

"Proof that Loghain may be behind this," Alistair said.

"That is a stretch," Leliana muttered.

"She's right, an un dead army seems a stretch, getting rid of the Arl is one thing but I don't think Loghain would be willing to decimate one of Ferelden's gateways," Daylen explained.

"Anyway that's it, I just wanted to serve the crown and make a little coin on the side," Berwick said.

Daylen nodded his head, tilting the contents of the ale down his throat.

"You should join the militia, fight for the village and redeem yourself," he said.

"Fitting," Sten's voice boomed from the doorway, the giant stood there with his arms crossed.

Daylen didn't know if it was Sten, or what he said that made Berwick decide, or whether Berwick wanted to do it because he generally felt regret. Either way, Berwick said yes, and when Daylen next saw him he was marching with Dwyn and the knights to the Windmill. He walked around the chantry, checking the boarded windows. Focusing his magic, he began to create spikes of ice. Wooden stakes had been used at the front of the chantry, but the dead could always attack the sides and back of it. Upon seeing what he was doing, Garret and Bethany assisted him in creating the magic born defences. As the sun set, Daylen gathered the men with the Mayor Murdock.

"When you're defending, you use the terrain to your advantage, but considering what we have to work with, we can't let the dead pile up onto the Chantry. Don't spread out too much or they'll pick us off one at a time, when you're dealing with dead flesh it's falling apart, so they won't have the strength a living person would, on the other hand, their muscles may be weaker, but they don't have the limit of pain, they'll tear themselves apart to tear you apart," Daylen explained.

"You have any experience with reanimated corpses?" Murdock asked.

"I did some research on Necromancy, but the circle doesn't actually teach it, it's more that 'know of the dangers' kind of lesson, arrows will be useless, you have to break the body apart, completely crush the brain or behead them. Magic may have reanimated the corpse, but it's still reacting to signals sent by the brain. Fire and ice are good weaknesses to utilise, fire destroys the flesh, and ice stops the movement completely, Morrigan, concentrate on empowering the blades of the militia with fire!"

"Well I suppose if we are stuck here helping others, I may as well, considering I have no desire to die either," Morrigan said.

"Garrett, Bethany, you'll use ice, I assume you're both able to cast and arc of cold," Daylen said.

"We are," Garrett and Bethany nodded their heads.

"This is your militia Murdock, get them to spread around the Chantry, but behind the spikes and barricades!"

"Actually Warden, I think this is more your militia," Murdock said.

"I wasn't intending to overstep..." Murdock however raised his hand, ceasing Daylen's excuses.

"You're leading them much better than I can," he said.

"Indeed," Teagan said.

He was in full armour, a sword on his back.

"The militia is in good hands, where would you have me go?" the Bann asked.

"Into the chantry with a few other men, someone needs to protect the villagers, and we can't have you dying here," Daylen said.

"But my brother is the Arl, if I don't protect Redcliffe in his absence..."

"It is precisely because the Arl is unavailable that you must survive, we don't know for sure if he is alive, in the event that he hasn't survived, leadership of Redcliffe, and aiding us in restoring order to Ferelden will fall to you," Daylen explained.

Teagan grit his teeth together, hesitant, but understanding the warden's logic. As he walked to the chantry door, he looked over his shoulder at Daylen Amell. Alistair stood by his side, a student of knowledge passed down to the son's of Arls, guided in the ways of leadership by Templars and Chantry priests. And, mentored by the commander of the Ferelden Grey Wardens for leadership. Yet, he listened to and obeyed the commands of a stranger. A stranger who, when Teagan looked at him, saw a leader. His fear was not elated, but his confidence in the militia's ability to protect the chantry and the people inside it, was bolstered. Daylen checked over his pack last, ensuring he had some poultices and mana potions. Then he checked over his dagger and took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Are you all right?" Leliana asked him.

"I'll be okay, do you know why I decided on this helm Leliana?" he picked up the helmet, running his hand over the visor.

"I'm not sure about the horns and hair, but it certainly looks like it'll protect your face, you'd have to be accurate with bow or sword to slide it through that visor, and I suppose it'll conceal your face for when we journey as well," Leliana explained.

"Those are some good reasons, but it's also the style too," Daylen half chuckled and grimaced. "I mean, it looks like the head of a monster, I suppose I wear it because it looks like what I feel like," he said before he slid the helmet over his head.

He turned then to face Leliana, whom gasped, there was something quite intimidating about the helmet. Especially when, through the darkness of the visor, she saw his eyes briefly glow.

Westeros-King's landing

There was a time when it would have been Revka wishing the children a good night. She would read Tommen and Myrcella stories, and tell them of the lessons behind those stories. Aristanna however had a different approach to stories. Within the study of the royal quarters, she sat with an audience, Tommen, Myrcella, Tyrion would have normally been drinking at this time, but he was drawn to her. Jamie stood nearly away from the group, guarding them but himself paying attention to the melody of the Amells. Even Jon Arryn's son Robert was in attendance, something Aristanna was taking a great risk in bringing him into her circle. 'Sweet Robert' as his mother called him was a weak child, a few years could pass and he'd be weaker and more unstable than Joffrey. His mother coddled him more than Cersei coddled Joffrey. Even the crown prince was there, initially bored, until Aristanna got into the heat of the story.

"Twas an army of knights and farmers, criminals and vagabonds, only one lord of a land, and he did his duty to protect the people inside the shelter. For that night, the militia of the village near the cliffs was under the command of an adventurer, a mage of the grey order. His mission was to gain the support of the neighbouring lords, for a great darkness was falling upon the land. Yet, he could not turn away from the troubles of this single village."

"He didn't run away?" Tommen asked, his eyes filled with wonder.

"Of course not, for he was a hero, and no hero turns away. He had come to the village, just when the mistress of the castle on the cliff cast her eyes on the village. She was wicked and cruel, having poisoned the king of the castle and taken his wife and prince hostage. Through witchcraft she called forth the great army of bones and sent it down to destroy the village, to send a message to the neighbouring lords. The mage of the grey order and his companions organised the defence of the village and stood with the soldiers as the army of bones came down the hill, their limbs rattling as they marched," Aristanna put fear into the hearts of her audience, tapping her flute against the chair, to mimic the rattle of bones.

She stomped her feet as if marching and crouched near Robert.

"The mage of the grey order watched the army of bones march towards him and the knights, looked at the oil spread across the ground, the narrow width of the path made it the ideal trap. The front line of the army of bones passed through the oil, stepping towards the gathered knights," she told the amazed, though frightened boy.

"Why didn't he light the oil?" he asked.

"It was not the right moment, but when a quarter of the army crossed the oil pit, then he clicked his fingers. Out the flames came, like a chain across the distance between the mage and the army of bones. With a flash the oil came alight, burning through the dead standing atop it, their groans and yells of anger echoing through the air as the flames rose. The front line of the army of bones had been trapped, the mage's plan was a success. Drawing his sword, he threw it forward and the knights pulled back their shields, revealing crossbows."

"Cowards weapons, that's what father always says," Tommen said.

"I favour the crossbow," Joffrey glared at his brother.

"Honour was not a priority that night, and even in a war between men, tactics is not dishonourable. An average bow had no use against the army of bones at close range. But the power behind a crossbow could shatter bone, and that was exactly what the knights needed to cripple the first line of the army of bones. They advanced through the flames, their bodies further melting, weakening. The knights drew their swords, and with a bellow charged forth. Blades cleaved through bone and flesh, and the knights firmly stood their ground. The mage yelled as he too joined the fray, swinging sword and shield into the soldiers of the army of bones. The dwarf whom he inspired to pursue heroism fought valiantly, his keening blade crumbling the bones of his enemies.

"And with a roar, the stone soldier crashed into her enemies, her crystal armour glowing, illuminating the night. She crashed her fists into the monsters, threw and slammed them against the ground she was a living shield for the knights, and a battering ram against the army of bones. Soldiers moved through the flames, preparing to surround the knights, and the mage faced the back of the stone soldier. The gears of inspiration turned within the mind of the mage, as he saw the glow in the crystal armour of the stone soldier. Electricity crackled through his arm, and suddenly, he threw a bolt of lightning into the stone soldier.

"Her armour hummed as the electricity passed through the crystals. Then, in a great bang, bolts of lightning crackled out of the crystals, destroying the bone soldiers in front of her. The stone soldier grinned, relishing the chance to destroy her mortal enemies, there were things she hated, birds, magic and the undead. She found it ironic and amusing that magic would help her destroy the latter, the mage again hit her with lightning, and again she amplified the lightning. The knights cheered and raised their swords, inspired and driven by the light and their victory."

Aristanna bent her knees and lowered the pitch of her voice.

"But all was still not well, for to the left of the windmill, on the path to the village, a man ran up it, panting and huffing," she did just that, causing Tommen and Myrcella to laugh. "And the man screamed, 'THEY'RE IN THE VILLAGE! THEY'RE SETTING FIRES!'" and this time the children, little Robert in particular squirmed.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The children groaned as Maester Pycelle 'limped' into the room. Aristanna shook her head in disdain.

"It is past the bed time of the princes, and where is young Robert's mother?" Pycelle asked.

"Indisposed, I knew she wouldn't agree to me reading a bed time story, so I said Baelish wanted to see her," Aristanna giggled, whispering the last part to the Maester.

"Shameful," the man shook his head.

"I know, Baelish isn't even at his brothel," Aristanna said.

"That is not my point, you are shaming the woman," Pycelle said.

"She kind of does it herself, I mean feeding Robert at her breast," Aristanna made a gagging sound that Pycelle nearly imitated as well.

"Whilst I share your opinions on certain aspects of Lady Arryn's parenting, these children should be sleeping in bed by now."

"Why, do they have busy days standing pretty at court? One night isn't going to be so bad," Aristanna said and turned back to the children (much to their delight).

"I am the Grand Maester, I am an advisor of the king and knowledgeable on many aspects of child development, perhaps listening to such garbage stories enabled you to become the young girl you are now, but such things do not apply to true born noble children," Pycelle explained.

Aristanna turned to Pycelle, making the children and even adults tremble when they saw the frown on her face. Pycelle stuttered in fear as the girl grabbed the collar of his robe.

Redcliffe

Daylen showed no hesitation when the villager came to the mill. He ran down the path, not waiting for Sten, Shale or Alpha, he didn't even know if anyone was following him. Running as fast as he could, he saw some of the buildings burning. The Undead crawled and crept, some still had skin and intact clothes and Daylen could tell, these were once villagers of Redcliffe. That was why the fighters wavered, they were facing friends, perhaps even family members. Murdock crashed his mace through the bones of any undead warrior that approached him. Leliana was using an axe and dagger, cutting and slicing off heads. Alistair held a shield wall with the other warriors, bashing the undead back and stabbing them. But from behind came the Undead, dripping with water from the lake.

"HOLD THE LINE!" Aveline yelled.

She knocked off an Undead man's head with her shield and cut it across the waist with her sword. Beside her, Carver crashed his hammer through the body of a crawling dead, and bashed two warriors aside. Two men fell dead beside him and another was about to be dragged away when the undead warrior was hit by an arrow. The body came alight and the militia man picked up his axe, imbedding it in the undead warrior's head. Marian fired one arrow after another, all of them empowered by Morrigan's magic. The witch of the wilds stabbed her staff into the ground and began to grow as light surrounded her. Her jaw began to expand, her nails turning into claws and then, in a flash of light she charged towards the dead in the form of a bear.

Daylen released fire into the bank ranks of the dead attacking the chantry. Fire was released from his hand and he swept it around, burning the undead and giving the shield wall motivation to push forward, throwing their opponents into the fire. Daylen charged his dagger with fire and ran, destroying individual undead warriors, beheading, splitting them, separating their arms from their bodies. He stabbed his dagger into a crawling dead warrior, spreading the flames across its body. A woman came towards him, her maw wide, screaming as if she was still alive. Her eyes though, that light in her eyes could only be magic. Daylen didn't hesitate to cut her apart. The top half of her body fell to the floor, one arm still flailing.

It was then that Daylen got a good look at her, fair hair and skin, a face much like Kaitlyn's. Their mother, he had killed their mother.

'No,' he thought. 'I have set her free!'

A howl came from behind him and Daylen turned, just in time to block an axe strike. An undead man of considerably size hobbled on one leg, supporting the rest of his body with an axe. His other arm hung off of its socket and Daylen could see his ribs. The man was missing half of his jaw, and a half growl escaped the creature's mouth. He blocked a second strike that knocked him to the ground. Daylen rolled, barely dodging his opponent's axe. He then stabbed his dagger through the man's head. Two more undead grabbed his legs, dragging him across the floor before he froze one with ice. Then he threw the frozen warrior back with a powerful blast of force magic, turning him into a projectile against a few other undead. The other undead fell to flames and Daylen looked towards Garret. Both he and Bethany released blasts from their staffs, creating a flow of blasts, moving to a rhythm, one side of their staff they fired, then they rotated the staff, taking a step forward and releasing a blast from the other side, then spinning and slamming their staff into the ground. It looked very dramatic, and true they could created effective barrages, flurries of spells, but Daylen was more for power.

"BETHANY!" Daylen yelled, slashing apart another undead. "GIVE ME YOUR STAFF!"

As Daylen dropped his dagger, letting the blade stab into the ground, he grabbed the staff Bethany threw his way. The staff began to glow as soon as the staff touched his hands, flames glowed around Daylen's body. He held the staff in front of him, crossing his arms together, letting fire spark in the palm of his free hand. His eyes scanned the targets, Undead spread out across the village, walking towards the Chantry, walking and crawling towards houses, those whom had managed to break through the knights and come down the hill. The militia men looked towards him in shock as the flames began to change.

Westeros-King's Landing

"Blue flames," Pycelle gasped.

The Maestar sat next to little Robert, now just as engrossed in the story as the children were.

"You see children, a blue flame is hotter than an orange flame, it burns quicker, and that was what the fire around the mage of the grey order shifted too. The Militia men and the mage's companions looked at him in shock, even the wild witch was in awe, she wasn't capable of making blue flames. For the mage of the grey order was skilled in the control of all the elements, but out of them all, fire was the one he had the most control over. The flames around him gathered in front of him, forming a miniaturised sun," the children gasped in awe as Aristanna raised the candle she was holding, seemingly moving the tiny flame with her hand, a simple illusion.

"Then, with a great yell, the ball of fire blew apart, streams of fire flew through the air, seeking out the warriors of the army of bones. BOOM! BOOM!" she made Tommen and Robert flinch, "They slammed into the army of bones, into the ground beneath them and BOOM! The explosions shook the village, but when the dust settled, the members of the militia were shocked to see that not one house had been hit. Even the blasts of fire that came close to the ranks of the militia didn't hit. The mage threw the staff of new growth back to the beauty of the village of new beginnings, and picked up his sword. His mana had been drained, and he would fight as a warrior."

"What use is he without magic?" Joffrey scoffed.

"I'm inclined to agree with the prince, leave the fighting to people with the training," Tyrion said.

"Ah but that's where you're wrong, the mage was a fighter," Aristanna said.

"He had talent," Jamie said, nodding his head in understanding.

"The mage stood with the other defenders, slashing, hacking down on the army of bones. When his sword broke, he picked up a mace and brought it down on a skull. He kept on smashing until the dead truly were dead. Beside him, the brave mayor of the village fought, hope in his heart. His village would survive this night, this he swore. And the man who saved his village would live through this long night, this he swore. Just as the Mayor's heart was set, a great warrior smashed through the dullards of the army of bones, an elite boneman, he thrust his spear towards the mage of the grey order."

The children, and even the adults looked on in dread and anticipation.

Redcliffe

Daylen looked towards Murdock in shock, the man had shoved him just enough for the Undead's spear to pierce his breast instead of Daylen's. Murdock was able to hit the soldier back before falling into Daylen's arms.

"No," Daylen whispered.

"The village," Murdock said.

He gripped Daylen's hand, squeezing it tightly. The Undead in front of them were suddenly thrown back. Shale stampeded into the dead, squashing their heads under foot or breaking them apart with punches. Alpha followed, tackling the Undead, leaving them vulnerable for Sten's axe. Sten swung his axe over his head, beheading a few of the Undead at once. Daylen took off his helmet and looked at Murdock.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"My village," Murdock said.

Daylen followed the direction of Murdock's shaking hand.

"Protect it," he said, again and again, until he breathed his last breath.

Daylen looked up, towards the Inn, some of the Undead were breaking in. He raised his helmet and brought the horn down on Murdock's head, he didn't want the man coming back and threatening the people he loved. Then he stood and looked towards the inn again. He broke off into a run, slicing Undead monsters with his shield and bashing them with his helmet. A skeletal swordsman caught his elbow with the flat of his blade, then cut off the shoulder guard of Daylen's armour. Sten suddenly split the monster in half and bashed another aside with his arm. Daylen kept on running, dodging a spear thrown at him and spinning, slamming the horn of his helmet into an Undead man's face, the horn broke off, imbedded in the creature's skull, before a flaming arrow set it alight.

"BELLA! LLOYD!" Daylen yelled as he ran through the broken door.

"HELP ME!" Lloyd screamed, two Undead holding his limbs either side.

They had pulled so hard one of his arms had broken. Daylen ran forward, but he was too late, another of the Undead dragged its sword across Lloyd's belly, spreading his guts across the floor. Bella was in the corner, pushing two Undead away with a bar stool. She already had a cut on her arm and part of the skirt of her dress had been torn. Daylen tackled the Undead that had killed Lloyd, and smashed his helmet and shield into them. He picked up one's axe and imbedded it in the head of one of Bella's attackers. Bella shielded herself with the bar stool, but the other Undead attacking her was grabbed by Daylen. He yelled as he tore its top body off of its legs. Then he slammed it into the ground and stomped on its head until his boots were coated with bone and brains.

"You," Bella whispered, looking up at Daylen.

He was panting, tired from the fight. Time had become such a foreign thing to him, he didn't know how much of it had passed. Were they mid way through the night, or had only an hour passed. He was usually sharper than this, but this was war, a different test of the mind altogether. Bella gasped, hearing a growl behind Daylen. Lloyd's eyes glowed as he bounded towards Daylen. The man put all his weight into his strike, hitting Daylen across the face with his broken arm. He felt his head ring, then a sharp pain in his right eye. Blood coated it and he fell back, raising his shield to protect himself. The Undead Lloyd had broken a bottle, and had cut Daylen.

'Please not my eye, not the eye,' Daylen thought.

He couldn't tell yet if it was his eye the man had cut. His head hurt too much as well, Lloyd towered over him, only for a sword to pierce through the man's ears. Bella stood next to her former employer, her hands on the sword that freed him, rage and tears in her eyes. She pulled the sword, breaking Lloyd's head apart and brought it down on his body again and again, screaming. As much as it pained her, she clearly enjoyed it too. Bella hadn't painted a good image of Lloyd's character, though no man deserved his kind of death or being used as he had been.

'Or maybe there are men that deserve it,' Daylen thought.

Bella stopped hacking at the body and rushed to Daylen's side. She was going to touch his face when he grabbed her arm.

"Your cut, it'll need treating, and the men need my help, stay safe," he said.

He gave her a poultice and a roll of bandages, picking his helmet up off of the floor.

"It's my fault, I was stupid," he said. "Should have kept the helmet on," sliding the helmet over his head he walked out of the inn.

Daylen's hand twitched as he walked back into the fighting. A blade managed to strike his back, his armour cushioning the blow, and a spear brushed past his arm. Through the darkness of the visor, his eye glowed, then the blood across his face shined. His burnt arm twitched and black flames flashed across it. Daylen snarled and swung around, slashing an Undead with the sharp edge of his shield. Alistair ran to his side, beheading another Undead warrior. The former templar blocked a great sword strike, a pair of Undead tackling him.

"Alistair," the rage faded and Daylen looked to his friend.

He threw his hand forward, knocking the Undead back with electricity. Daylen imbedded his shield in another monster's head, the strap finally breaking as he walked in front of Alistair. He picked up the green blade and held it with both hands. Despite the pain he was in, he focused, side stepping the blows of the Undead warriors and cutting them apart with strokes of the blade. Alistair picked up a wooden shield and hammer, looking towards his fellow warden. Daylen's strikes lacked the fluidity and discipline of a trained fighter, yet there was a skill to it. He countered every strike, used every opening the Undead gave him and always went for the killing blow. His speed gradually increased, every swing of the sword made it look as if the blade was glowing.

'If he has proper training, he could be a great warrior,' Alistair thought.

Alistair went back to back with Daylen, blocking a strike that came to their right.

'But for now, he'll be my leader,' the young man crashed the hammer into an Undead fighter's head.

Daylen bent his knees, holding the sword in front of him and then raising it over his head. Alistair kept his shield in front, and his hammer raised. They both yelled as the Undead ran towards them.

Westeros-King's Landing

"The mage of the grey order and the knight fought side by side, their example an inspiration to the villagers. Together, they fought until the light rose from the sky, driving away the army of bones. In spite of what had been lost, despite all the pain the heroes of the village had endured, they cheered and raised their weapons high and the villagers emerged from the great hall, at first shielding their eyes from the light," Aristanna put her hand in front of her eyes as she spoke. "And when they looked out into their village, they saw them," she moved her hand away, her eyes filled with a wonder the listeners shared.

At this point in the story, a few of the servants of the castle had also gathered. Jon Arryn was there, smiling at his son, seeing a joy in the boy's face that he never saw when Lysa was with him. Stannis was also present, still scowling, but a part of him hoped that Aristanna could one day tell such a story to Shireen.

"The giant from the east, standing tall, no smile, no look of pride upon his face, for he had only fulfilled his purpose in fighting. The stone soldier, as resolute as the giant, she too stood. The witch, brushing her clothes and sitting on a pile of bones. The rogue priestess, her head low, hands clasped together as she prayed in thanks. The hound, whom stood close to his master, these were the heroes whom had saved the village," Aristanna explained.

"And at the centre, the two whom had fought the hardest. The knight sat on the ground, sighing in relief, finally letting go of his weapons. He leant against the back of his friend, the mage of the grey order, whom was kneeling, leaning on his sword. But the blade didn't rattle, and his body never gave way for the exhaustion that threatened to overpower him. For he set his sights to the castle, the castle of the evil mistress whom had summoned the army of bones, and he knew that his work wasn't done!"

Aristanna then clapped her hands together, shocking the listeners.

"And that is all for today children, time for bed," she said and the noble children groaned.

"Please tell us some more Aristanna," Tommen begged.

"I want to know if he takes the castle," Joffrey said.

"Does the castle have a moon door?" little Robert asked.

"What about the mage and the princess of the tavern?" Myrcella asked. "Does romance develop between them?"

"Does he give the dragon slaying sword back to the boy?" Tommen asked.

"Now, now children," Jon Arryn walked closer.

"Yes, em, it's truly time for bed now," Pycelle coughed, making his rise from the ground look like a struggle.

"Indeed," Cersei revealed herself from the doorway, smirking at the look of fear that crossed the faces of her brothers.

"Your grace, Lady Amell was simply...

"I know what she is doing, I am not Lysa Arryn," Cersei said, not caring that the hand was present. "Off to bed now children!"

She walked between Myrcella and Tommen, looking back at Aristanna and nodding to her. Jamie was one of the last to leave, mouthing a 'thank you' to the story teller. It left only Aristanna and Tyrion in the room.

"Incredible, I've not seem the three of them share an interest in something since...well ever, Joffrey almost seemed like a normal child," Tyrion said.

"Anyone can enjoy a good story, I could tell that the younger two missed Aunt Revka," Aristanna said.

"But you fill her role quite well, you'll be a fine Lady of the Meadow one day."

"I'll marry one day Lord Tyrion, whether it's a lord of status or a penniless man will be my choice. Love for my husband, my family, and the joy of these stories and my music will be what pleases me," Aristanna explained.

"I see, but this story was very different from the ones Lady Revka tells, it came from no book, so where did you come upon it? Your own imagination?" Tyrion asked.

"Sort of," Aristanna rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

"What do you mean?"

"You'll probably think I'm mad, but that story I just told, was one I dreamed of just last night!"

Next Chapter 9: War in the Meadow

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter, next time Chimeron meets some of the Amell family members.