(Near Silverhill: 4/21/299) Jun III
On the horizon, past the rocky hills, stood the proud castle of Silverhill, seat of the Lord Serret. Perched high upon the tallest hill, the castle looked every bit the glittering stronghold it was named as. Sturdy walls of stone, tall and mighty, rose from the earthen base upon which the castle was built. Appearing more as a tree of rock growing high into the clouds, the crenellation of the fortress glinted in the sun, hinting at silvery adornment.
"It's a day's ride. At least," Ser Justin sniffed at the clear morning air as he spoke, his eyes apparently lingering on the hilly landscape before them. After sighing once more, the knight collapsed his Myrish far-eye and handed it to the Hellhound who quickly snatched it out of his grasp.
"Yes, and the path is littered with so many fucking places to spring an ambush, you blond-haired ponce," the Hellhound snorted, as he looked through the glass, pointing out possible perches and hideaways for archers and assassins.
"That did not help the lions when they tried it all those other times during our little journey through their lands, Clegane," Massey countered with a smile, before gesturing with a nod towards Greywind. "We have the direwolves to account for such things. Besides, the path is wide enough for maneuvers if necessary."
"Barely," Clegane spat.
"Even so, the major is correct," Chi-Ha sniffed, as she stared through a far-eye of her own, the intensity of her own inspections readily visible upon her tightened jaw. "Oh, what I wouldn't give to have General Yin here with his tank divisions," the lieutenant-general mumbled, as she scowled through the Myrish instrument, the shadow of her brow catching the scar etched on her face at such an angle as to appear almost serpentine.
"What good would that have done?" Robb asked, his face still uncertain. Still innocent of what a determined adversary the Fire Nation could be when pressed.
'Lucky,' the errant thought sprung into her mind as she shifted sight from the speaker towards her charge, who had grown enough to be easily mistaken for their general in both size and shape. The four unnervingly quiet Flameguard, dispatched from King's Landing by the Firelord, had remained ever attentive at her friend's side.'You don't truly know Ursa yet…' she had wanted to say to the Stark, even though her inner flame had felt stronger and more powerful than ever, especially when her friend was close, she could not help but feel apprehensive towards her when words of battle were drummed up from the lord and commanders. The war had changed Azula's heir, this she knew, but it did not stop her from loving her friends. More than anything, did Jun cherish them, but the mere thought of'the Red Stranger' having access to the full might of the Fire Nation had still made her recoil in fear and she knew not why. The thought had only recently begun to haunt her, and looking up, she stared at the afternoon sky. The burning sun kissed her skin, but in her mind, it scorched her to the bone as she recalled the visions bestowed upon her by the many campfires of the many long nights before. Images of blackened mountains and children in orange robes bawling out their eyes in the moments just before they were burnt to cinders. Jun gazed upon the bleeding star as it flared brightly in the sky, an omen of both doom and salvation.'Or was it only one?' she wondered, thinking back on the chaotic nature of her dreams and the flames which had helped spawn them.
"Had we had them, we could have flattened the Westerlands in an afternoon and made it home just in time for supper, cadet," rumbled her former instructor, as she seemingly lingered upon her thoughts. Shaking her head at the words, the general tossed Jun the far-eye, then turned to the blond knight. "They only need to get lucky once, Ser Justin. Wolves or no."
"Well, at least its by the river," Jun added, trying to dispel the dark ideas away in any way she could, as she fumbled around with the bronze scope and peered through. Noting the branch of the Mander, that some had taken to calling the Silverstream, her eyes followed its twisting path through the rocky valley below. Spotting what she believed to be shadows in the stream, she rubbed her eyes and looked again, seeing nothing. "Hmmm," she scrunched her brow.
"Silver linings by the Silverstream, eh?" chuckled the knight from Stonedance, whose boisterous nature drew her attentions from the watery thread nestled between the hills. His laughing azure eyes met her own, and conflicted though they were, Jun still managed to giggle and smile out of courtesy. Thought she suspected the man could tell the humor had not risen up to her eyes.
"Bah, you two," the Hellhound waved them off. "Have fun with your jokes,children," Sandor shifted his gaze towards the scarred woman leading their contingent. "General?" he addressed the woman leading them.
"Yes, major?" golden eyes snapped towards the new master of Clegane Hall.
"With your permission I should like to go back and inspect the men," the large man faced the Dragonstone commander dead in her fiery molten orbs. While a withering stare to most, Jun could see that with the Hellhound, the twin suns had found their equal.
"Go. Make sure they stay alert," the former instructor tilted her head, an unreadable expression lining her seasoned face. The former instructor's attention briefly shifted focus from the hills and the jagged path that lay before them, to the inheritor of Clegane Hall. "I don't trust places with too many rocks…"
The Hellhound frowned, then stared at her and Ser Justin. "Tell me when you lords, and knights, and little ladies make a decision," the major grumbled, snapping his helm shut, before pulling at the reins of his massive black warhorse.'The Stranger,' he had called it ever since Jun could remember, but after Ursa had earned her nickname it had become somewhat awkward.
"Do you really think Lord Serret spoke truth? When he sent us word on his terms?" the Karstark boomed, after Sandor and his mount had disappeared somewhere towards the rear of their company.
"You ask a question that has been festering in everyone's mind, my lord. My own included," Ursa groaned, her sharp face having taken on a guise of stone. The fierce visage, ever common on the princess' untrusting face, had sparked from the suspect nature on sworn enemies now issuing promises of peace. A look Jun had noted being shared by all those at the front of the column, save her own, for her mind differed in course from their own.
At her back, Jun heard Syrah mumble something under breath.
"Dragonseed!" her friend barked, immediately following the silver girl's mumbling, and startling Jun out of her ruminations. Blazing golden eyes turned away from the front to stare at the inhumanly beautiful fire bender just behind her. "If you have something to add, then I implore you to come forward and present yourself," Ursa pressed, her voice cleanly piercing through the twenty chattering men between herself and Syrah.
Though the words had not been directed towards her, Jun could still feel her inner flame flare at the command, and almost stepped forward out of reflex. In that moment, a fiery haze overcame her vision, followed by whispers in her mind that sounded of Ursa. She could feel something tugging against her own will before finally subsiding into a brief but uncomfortable wave of dizziness and nausea.'What the hell?' she thought as she cradled her head.
"Are you well?" Brienne whispered, nudging at her side.
"Mmhmm," Jun nodded. "I feel faint, is all. It seems marching does not agree with me, but thank you for your concern," she added with a smile, in her muttering response to her tall friend. Hearing crunching on the ground, both had shifted their sights towards the noise. A look of surprise had overtaken Brienne's wide face, one that Jun could feel had been plastered upon her own. After having taken her friend's offer so readily, they could only watch in silence, and with fair a bit of incredulity, as the silver-haired maiden and her black mount shuffled past them.
"I think he's lying, princess," the velvety smooth voice rang out without hesitation, bringing with it an almost freezing cold quality. A brief silence overtook the group, which Jun suspected was due more to the girl's increasingly beautiful womanly form, and disturbed only by the whistling winds of the rocky hills.
"It wouldn't be first time lords have lied. But tell me, why do you suspect as such with him, Dragonseed?" Ursa probed with raised brow, and what Jun could swear was just the lightest of bit of amusement tinting her steely tone.
"With the old lion, and the crowned stag, perched upon his shoulders his words share the same uncertainty as Lord Walder's before him. No offense, Ser Stevron, but really the whole realm knows how your father is."
The old knight shrugged. "None taken, my lady. I'll admit that he is somewhat of a, shall we say, guarded man? And he is none too fond of taking risks. He prefer certainties."
"Don't we all?" the girl smiled, revealing brilliantly-white teeth and showcasing her near-ethereal splendor for all to see. "As I was saying," she continued, the gathered men latching onto her every word as if in a trance while the wind buffeted her silvery-light hair. "It would be foolish to cross either one. No man. Nor really any man, anywhere, would deny that. And while the days have not brought us clarity to Lord Serret's state of mind, they have afforded us all the opportunity to consider the depths of his thoughts. To weigh them. To judge them," the Dragonseed said, rubbing her thumbs across the reins of her black courser. "Desperate men will say anything. This is a fact. They will also do anything to survive or profit if they can."
"Standard teachings at the Academy, but do go on," Ursa pointed out, waving a hand, all the while reminding Jun of a similar proclamation made months earlier by the daughter of Dragonstone when they had stood at the crossing of Frey.
"And for good reason, princess," Syrah countered with smirk. "If they feel that they have a chance at snatching victory away from the jaws of defeat, then they will do what is necessary. Serret has had ample enough time to send a welcoming party or done any number of things to prove his allegiance, yet there he sits," Syrah sneered, as she pointed towards Silverhill. "There, deep in his hideous little castle," she narrowed, twiddling her fingers at the far off fortress as the words left her mouth. "Silent as the grave, because he believes this to give him some sense of control. But the longer he dithers the more doubt is cast upon his claims, and the deeperhis grave becomes..."
"Perhaps," the Bolton of Dreadfort whispered, "but the weight of the lion grows lighter with each passing day." In his frighteningly pale eyes, Jun could see hints of what looked like approval at the Dragonseed's indifferent tone, and while his voice had barely been above a sigh it had sounded commanding, nonetheless. "Could it not be that he has seen the error of his ways?"
"Too true, Lord Bolton, but has it grown light enough for him to have'seen the error of his ways' as you so put it?" Syrah countered, glancing toward the Leech Lord. "Serret wants us to come to him. Similar to what we had expected from Lord Walder, I might add, before he sent us a messenger and surprised us all."
Ser Stevron snorted, in what seemed to be good humor, but no smile came to his lips.
"Hah! Surprise," Halys Hornwood mocked. "The man had kept us waiting long past midday," the man continued grumbling, earning himself a few more from the group.
"Still, this a fact which is not becoming of one who claims to be loyal," Syrah lingered on the last word. "If Lord Serret truly wished to prove his allegiance, he would have sent his men to join us in our march. Sadly, he did not. He dallied, he waited, like a vulture circling a corpse. Whether it was ours or the lions he cared not, but it proves he is uncommitted. He wishes for the best offer, but he must be made to understand that the crown does not offer gifts in exchange for loyalty. It demands loyalty, as Lord Lydden came to realize," the Dragonseed shared a look with the Princess of Dragonstone, before a trick of light curved Ursa's lips upward.
"Well spoken," her friend said from atop her powerfully built black charger, the one named 'Proudhoof.'
"Greywind seems to agree with your assessment, my lady," the heir of Winterfell said of his hirsute guardian, who softly growled at the distant castle. The gathered horses, including the one on which the Stark sat astride, nickered uneasily at the sounds of the large predator. As the heir of Winterfell spoke, Jun saw his head turn left to stare at the direwolf at his side, before raising a single hand and scratching the back of the wolf's neck.
"Perhaps we should wait for Howland's report?" Medger Cerwyn suggested, clearing his throat. An uneasy gaze drifted between the man's fellow lords before Jun found them lingering briefly upon the Dragonseed. Catching his eye, Jun saw what appeared to be an almost misty flame burning within them, before the man shook his head and quickly turned away. Brushing off the strange sight, she paid heed to Cerywn's words for as long as her mind would permit, before fire took hold upon her thoughts. Whispers of danger swam in her mind's eye, as Lord Cerwyn spoke, his voice barely discernable from the roar of the non-existent flame currently burning within her head. The Lord of Greywater Watch, Howland Reed, had earlier embarked with seventy mounted men. All had been armed with short swords and clad in ring mail, as they had set out to scout the lands surrounding Silverhill, prior to their exodus from Deep Den. A profound sense of worry had gnawed at her, even before the men had left, for the flames had warned her that something was coming. Something evil. Something wet. Something hungry. It had twisted her stomach in knots, and caused the worry to slowly build up inside of her like bile, confusing her for she did not understand why the fires had fanned her feelings so. The emotions had only amplified, once her beloved had volunteered to find the man, against her wishes. For it was hard for her Jon to say 'no' to his brother just as it was hard for her to say 'no' to her future Firelord.
"Lord Reed and the rest of his men should have been back ages ago," Sunglass said offhandedly, his concentration still drifting between them and the rocky hills surrounding their army.
"Yes, and that's why I had to send Snow and a few of my own to see what exactly has waylaid them, " Ursa's iron voice cut through the intermittent chatter as her fiery golden eyes scanned the horizon alongside those of the general.
"The lands surrounding Silverhill are difficult to traverse," the general added. "Accidents on these lands could lead to a few broken legs. Such things would certainly explain their tardiness, would it not, princess? After all, during our march through the Neck I did not spy any mountains or hills even half the size of these," Chi-Ha gestured to their surroundings. "Unless I somehow missed the mountainous regions within those swamplands?"
"You missed no such thing, my lady. Only endless swamp and biting insects abound there," the Bolton concurred. "Lizard lions also, if you happen to be unfortunate enough to encounter them."
"Pah! You two underestimate the little Reed," Lord Hornwood scoffed at the idea, his thick beard shaking as he laughed. "If he is late, it is not because of difficult terrain. He is no southron babe fresh out of its cradle."
"Do you both believe it having been an ambush then? For that is the only possibility left," Ser Rambton suggested, his eyes just as focused upon the rocky hill-infested landscape as the general's and Ursa's own.
"Not while Jon and Ghost are with them," Jun chirped adamantly, praying quietly to the flame within that nothing ill had befallen her dear Jon or their scouts. At her words, she found the Stark boy staring at her with an understanding expression. In gratitude, at the gesture, Jun could not help but smile.'Thank you,' she mouthed.
"That's assuming he even found them in time," Syrah drawled, almost shattering Jun's resolve. "All those twists and turns and deep crags seem easy enough to get lost in. Even for a direwolf."
'You fucking bitch!' she thought, and before the retort had come to her own lips, the Stranger had spoken.
"It's best to not be unconstructive at this moment, Dragonseed. So kindly keep your silence," Ursa chided the girl, who seemed taken aback at the sudden scolding.
Knowing Syrah, Jun had more than suspected a venomous retort to be lingering upon her tongue, but the moment had quickly passed and the Dragonseed could only pout her full lips in displeasure.
"Agreed," Robb nodded with a frown, before giving Jun one last smile. "Both Jon and Lord Reed are cautious and shrewd as they come. Just as all men from the north are."
"Aye!" a few northmen within earshot whooped in agreement, causing the Stark to display a faint grin.
"Hmph," the silver beauty frowned impotently.
"Thus, I refuse to believe that they were caught unawares," Robb concluded, after the hooting had partially subsided.
"Whatever their fate, we can only wait for so long," Ursa declared. "His grace is due near Silverhill any day now, and we certainly cannot discover the truth of where Serret's true loyalties lie, when the King himself is standing under the castle's shadow."
"What do you propose then,girl? Going in alone? I doubt even your mother could have brought him to heel on her own," the Lord of Karhold voice his disapproval.
"If you think that, Lord Karstark, then you clearly don't know how convincing my mother can be when she deigns to," the future Firelord turned, ignoring the barb, and instead focusing her blazing golden eyes toward the Serret castle sitting upon the hill. "Capturing us," her friend motioned towards herself and the son of Lord Stark, "would be a worthy enough prize to risk everything. For it could end the war, in favor of the lions, and catapult Lord Serret's house to new heights."
"It is quite the risk. One that I am sure would be tempting to a lesser lord such as he," the Bolton commented, shifting atop his black charger as he did so without ever so much as glancing back.
"Perhaps we should send a messenger, before sending such valuable bait?" Ser Stevron suggested, as the others began discussing amongst themselves, the northerners with the northerners and the southerners with the southerners.
"No time," Ursa said calmly. "Brienne? Kai? Dragonseed?" she addressed the two firebenders amongst them, and the tallest of their number. All those referred, quickly trotted forward on their mounts, one wearing a confused face, the other diligence, and the last irritation. "You three will join me, as will you four," the princess motioned to the four silent Flameguard. "Also, I would ask for a rainbow flag of parley and a banner bearing the sigil of my house to be brought to the fore, Ser Justin. And be quick about it," she added.
"As you command, my princess!" the man saluted, pressing his armored fist to his chest and bowing his head.
"What?!" Jun blinked, as the blond knight rode off towards the supply wagon. "You're not seriously considering going all the way there with only seven-people?!"
"Jun is correct, my lady. You cannot put yourself at such risk, you are the niece of the King," Robb added, just at shocked by the suggestion as she.
"Of course I can," she countered. "I am the niece of the King, but just because it is so does not mean that I am to be treated as some fragile treasure. I will not put these men's lives at risk in what may be a possible trap. Better to lead a smaller, more agile, group. One that can escape quickly, if necessary."
"Well, what about me? I am one of your Flameguard, am I not? I demand to go," Jun yelped, pressing a finger into her own chest. "I am charged with your protection, and I will not be absent your side," she added.
"Demand?" Ursa replied, raising a brow. "You demand nothing from me, soldier. You are allowed to advise me, but never forget that you are meant to obey, and I say you remain here. Your reservations have been noted," the princess looked between her and the Stark. "But you two seemed to have forgotten what I told you at the Twins. I cannot stress enough, that my parents have afforded me a greater level of freedom than even yours have done for you, Robb."
"I will not return to Dragonstone, only to present your corpse to the Firelord!" she pressed, unwilling to let her charge be absent her protection, and equally unwilling to face the Firelord if what she uttered would have truly come to pass.
"I appreciate your concern, the both of you, but your lives are far too valuable to be gambled on this," the princess added, softening her eyes as she looked at them. "You are the son of a Lord Paramount, and you are a spiritwalker. Should harm or death befall me, word would need to reach my parents immediately that it was I who set upon this path of my own volition. For they would only accept such dire claims coming from one sharing equal standing to myself," Ursa looked at Robb as she uttered the last, and maintained his hesitant stare. "Now, unless you believe your lord father would not enter negotiations with Serret, in the event of your capture, then you would do well to leave me be."
"And would your parents not do the same for you?" the Young Wolf countered.
"I would never allow myself to be taken alive to be used as a bargaining chip," the Red Stranger hissed, glaring at the distant fortress. "If it comes to it, I would bite off my tongue and force myself to drown in my own blood. Make no mistake, should Serret's words prove to be false, he and the rest of his house will be dealt with. And the next time a lord decides to waste my time, or try some form of treachery, a simple letter saying I will be sent to discuss terms is all that will be needed to bring them to heel."
"By the gods…tis Tywin Lannister with teats," she heard several of the north and rivermen mumble from behind them, a few of which chuckled lightly at the jest. If the princess had heard them, she had made no move towards the insult, if it indeed had been as such to her.
'Don't do this!' she wanted to shout, knowing that Ursa would most assuredly follow through with her promise, only to be beaten by the silver bitch.
"Wait a godsdamned moment! So both of their lives are valuable, but not mine!?You may not value your life, princess, but I definitely value mine!" the Dragonseed snapped, utterly dismissing the danger both Brienne and Kai would share with her. Syrah's brilliant golden eyes flared with her sharp words, her pale skin flushing in anger.
On her head, Jun could feel beads of sweat beginning to form, and upon glancing towards the others surrounding them, she could see the same happening to them. It had gown hot.Very hot.
"Did I give you permission to speak, cadet?" Ursa almost seemed to have snarled, her own eyes revealing a much more terrifying burst of burning primordial light within.
"No, but neither did you give it to that rat," Syrah waved dismissively towards her, and Jun knew she would come to regret her words.
Quietly, and ever so calmly, did the princess prod her steed towards Syrah. Ursa's angular face was still and impassive, belying the raging inferno that was buried within her withering gaze. For what seemed like an eternity, the glowing beauty and the scowling force glared at one another, before the former had ultimately relented. Silently, Jun observed as all the blood drained from Syrah's normally porcelain-hued face, exposing what she could only surmise was complete and utter shock at what she had just done. Suddenly intimidated by the princess' silent approach, the white-haired upstart made a shallow attempt at withdrawal only to find no recourse, as the only exit either of them would have had was blocked by the gathering crowd. Idly, Jun wondered if the silver bitch would attempt to ride past the Firelord's heir, in some ill-conceived plan to escape punishment. In the end, however, she did not, much to Jun's disappointment. The Dragonseed had instead resigned herself to where she was, with both defiance and fear swirling equally within her dazzling golden eyes. In that same fearful defiance, Jun could sense the Dragonseed's inner flame quieting. Whereas before it had roared and thrashed, now it merely whimpered like a beaten pup.
"I…I…I," the girl faltered, tripping over her words. "My princess…I…I don't know wha…" Syrah attempted to choke out, before being silenced.
"She is my Flameguard, and you arenot, peasant! She is afforded the luxury of speaking her mind, when it comes to my wellbeing," the booming reprimand had exploded from Ursa's mouth like thunder, her steely hand grabbing hold of Syrah by the immaculately clean collar of her uniform. Ursa's larger size had been readily seen as she towered a full head taller than the snobbish girl "Your success in battle has made you grow bold indeed if you believe that you can speak to me as an equal let alone out of turn!"
"My lady, please, she overstepped. There is no need to…" Robb interceded on the girl's behalf, trotting ever closer upon his mount.
"Do I tell how to discipline your own men, Stark? Would you even listen, if I did?" Ursa barked, tilting her head only slightly away from the Dragonseed to address the heir of Winterfell, and sounding very much like the sires that had borne her.
"No, and Iwould listen," he said, before standing back. Several of the northern lords had appeared ready to protest the dismissal, yet the future Warden of the North had only nodded for them to relent in whatever words that they had intended to share.
'No need to add fuel to the flame,' Jun thought as she watched the lords grumble silently in their disapproval. Unease began to flood her senses, and Jun could feel her hands slowly tightening their grip upon Whisper's reins in. So tight had she wrung the straps of leather that the cracks within them had begun to pinch her fingers.
"Then you have promise, but please do not interfere when Dragonstone disciplines its own," the princess replied in a generally respectful tone, before returning her full attention to the girl currently ensnared in what Jun suspected was a viselike grip. "I only tolerate you, girl, because you have thus far surprised me with your prowess in the art of fire bending and your predisposition towards bloodshed! However, donot mistake my quiet praise for familiarity! I have thus far quelled the misgivings of those that have been the unfortunate subjects of your arrogant dismissals, but I will not do so forever! The extents of my good-nature fall very short when it comes to such flagrant insubordination," Ursa spat. "I want you to rest assured," the words came through gritted teeth, even as Ursa's eyes gleamed in unyielding fury, "that all of your lives do have value to me. However, in this instance, your life has value because you are amongst the strongest of the fire benders yet produced by Dragonstone and I wish to use this opportunity to test you. To see how you fare in circumstances which do not favor you! And if you ever speak to me that way again, you will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher," the princess growled, finally releasing the girl from her iron grip and revealing naught but the smoldering ruins of a formally well kempt collar underneath.
At the corner of her eye, Jun saw the general shift uncomfortably at Ursa's words.
"General?!" Ursa's face turned sharp, as she faced the former instructor, who had seemed startled at the unexpected address. Freed from her burning gaze, Jun observed as the Dragonseed slinked as far back as she could.
"Yes, my princess?" the woman replied with a stiff Fire Nation salute.
"Do you find my approach to be reckless?" her Baratheon charge asked.
After a brief silence, the scarred instructor steeled herself and spoke. "I do, my princess. But it was a tactic once used, by your second cousin, to great effect. So I can find no fault in it, since it led to the defeat of a much greater force than the one we currently face."
"Really? My second cousin?" her friend blinked, scrunching her brow in thought for a moment, before speaking again. "Lu Ten, was it?" Ursa raised an inquisitive brow as she looked to the general, a look she had seen grace the Firelord's face on many occasions.
"Colonel Lu Ten," the woman clarified with a subtly sharp tone.
"Hmmm. Know him well, did you?" the daughter of Azula asked, without waiting for reply. "I should like to speak of him. When time allows. I would like to learn more about his tactics. Perhaps when I return from Silverhill?"
"I am at your disposal, princess. Always," Chi-Ha bowed.
"Good," the princess responded. "Now, make ready for our procession," she added, sparing a quiet gaze to Kai and Brienne, before boring them straight into the Dragonseed, who fidgeted nervously beneath Ursa's fiery scrutiny. "We should be able to get to the castle in a quarter of the time it would have taken the entire army to get there."
Less than an hour had passed, and now Jun could only watch her charge as she mounted 'Proudhoof' and gave one last inspection to the seven who would join her. Neither Jon, nor the Lord Reed had returned during their preparations, and a restless pall had poised itself to overtake her should another hour pass without either returning. "General, if I may," she asked the scarred woman who quietly observed the princess and her retinue.
"Speak your mind, cadet," came the terse response.
Wincing at the curt reply, she continued on with her plea, one she was sure would be rebuked yet again, but she would keep trying so long as Ursa remained in sight. "Will the Firelord not be displeased in you for allowing the princess to leave the protection of the army?"
"She will, but mine is not to question the commands of royalty," golden eyes studied her in apparent interest. "Should the princess die, then I will share in her fate. If she lives, then I will share in her glory."
"You're willing to let her risk her life, even at the expense of your own?" Jun countered with more than a healthy amount of bewilderment.
"And what would you have me do, cadet? Hmmm? Declare an Agni-Kai and force her to back down?" the general shot back, her earlier curiosity now shifting into an almost thoughtful sort of annoyance. "She has bested many of my betters. She has bested entire legions of Lannister soldiers without suffering even so much as a single scratch. And even if I attempted to do so, and somehow managed to beat her into submission, then I would be rightly executed for injuring the Firelord's own daughter. So too, if I try to best her and lose, for the princess would not spare one who engaged in such blatant a treasonous act as attempting to strike one of the royal family. Nor should she be expected to," the general turned to her, watching her with a silent sort of respect in gleaming gilded eyes.
"Talk to her then," Jun pleaded, feeling farther and farther away from the flame that both warmed and frightened her in equal measure. The flame of Ursa.
"Your heart is in the right place, young one," Chi-Ha sighed. "But take care not to let your emotions overcome your sense of propriety. Disrespect is not something Firelords take lightly," Chi-Ha warned ominously, before seemingly noticing her continued discomfort at Ursa's proposal. "And between the two of us," she added in a hushed tone, "I half expected the princess to maim the Dragonseed girl for her defiance, but she stayed her hand. Do not press her, cadet. She is your friend, but she is also your princess and your future Firelord."
"I know," Jun whispered. "Believe me, I do."
"She has much of her parents in her, and they are not known for suffering fools. Trust in her, child, for she is not naïve. She has grown exceedingly formidable in body, mind, and spirit."
"I wish I held your optimism, general," Jun sulked, suddenly feeling the weight of her shoulders.
"It is not optimism if I have legitimate reasons for believing so. Perhaps this will act as a balm to your doubts, or not, but there was one other budding prodigy that believed the same as our princess. One, I once held the privilege of witnessing display their prowess, before being placed as her charge. Much as you were, for her," the general nodded towards the daughter of Dragonstone. "And one whom I would never bet against. No matter the odds."
"Who?" she asked, suspecting who it had been, but asking just the same.
"Our Firelord," the general frowned in private contemplation, before turning to her. "The princess has, a far as I can discern, displayed far greater power than even her highness did at that moment in Ozai's court. So many years ago, now," the woman mused with the slightest of wet reflections glimmering in her eyes. "A place far less forgiving than even Dragonstone. And as I would never bet against our Firelord, regardless of her age, so to would it be ill-advised to bet against one who is her better in matters of war. Not in the politics of it mind you, in which her highness excels, but merely in its waging. The Firelord lets her enemies dig their own graves, and the princess lays them to rest."
"Come! We ride!" Ursa's voice reverberated throughout the company, before all eight of them raced down the path leading up to the Silverstream.
"I pray you are right, general," she said, as a chill ran up her spine. Reaching for the small satchel strapped to Whisper's side, Jun reached in and retrieved the far-eye she had earlier received. Peering through the instrument, she spied the dust trails kicked up by the eight mounts of the princess' entourage. "R'hllor protect them. All of them," she mouthed, feeling as a flare of heat bloomed within her chest. The sun still reigned high in the sky, as the group had departed, and Jun wondered if it would still be so when her Jon would return.
She did not wait long. Mere hours after Ursa had left the protection of the army, a handful of men came riding up from the northern reaches of the rocky hills. A handful, whereas before there had been seventy northmen and twenty from Dragonstone, now only ten had returned. Two from Dragonstone, seven from the north, and one very large wolf. For a moment, Jun felt her stomach turn as she could not clearly see her Jon amongst the horsemen. But as they drew closer, and the pale fur of Ghost revealed crimson streaks, that was when she saw him. The stalwart form of Jon, still very much alive and well, his face and armor smeared with the blackest blood she had ever seen. Slowly, a smile crept up onto her face, for she beheld no missing limbs, nor did Jon's body sag in its saddle. The blood did not matter, because he was back and she could once again embrace him in her arms. Against her every instinct to ride forward and greet him, she held back, noticing the grim visages that had accompanied the small party. At the head of the group, rode the Lord of Greywater, his face equally smeared and stoic. Dragging up the rear, at the end of a long rope, was a large bloodied sac, one whose hue bore the same blackness as that which stained the faces of the men.
Lord Reed and Jon, rode past them, to the head of the column. There they spoke to Robb and the others. "What in the seven-hells happened out there, Reed?" she heard Hornwood inquire in an unusually loud tone. "Was it Serret?"
"No," the small man muttered. "It was that," he pointed to the large man-sized bag, all drenched in blood.
The northman dragging the woven container, cut it away from his mount, before cutting open the knot keeping it sealed. Immediately thereafter, the entire area smelt of bile, rotted fish, and shit. Several gagged, included herself, as something monstrous spilled forth. Wet, oily-black, skin sloughed off at the chest and thighs. Fish-like spines lined the back of the creatures head, and bulbous black eyes stared lifelessly at her. Razor-sharp talons lined each and every finger and malformed toe of the thing laying before them with its gaping fish mouth.
"What in the fucking hell, is that?!" the Hellhound sneered in disgust, his crass words instantly receiving mutual agreement with all those assembled.
"Was it only one?" the Bolton stared, his face nearly unreadable save for the slight twinge of uncertainty reflecting within his pale eyes.
"No, Lord Bolton," answered Reed. "It was many. They came from the river, in the night. They can take the voices of men, and women, and children. They nearly lured us into an ambush before several men from Silverhill emerged from the brush to warn us away."
"Silverhill?!" the heir of Winterfell asked.
"The creatures killed and ate them before our very eyes," the little man wrung his hands nervously. "We had no choice but to flee. We withdrew from the rivers and made them come to us. Many, did we kill, but their attacks never ceased. We lost thirty-two that first night. Our horses either fled or were butchered, and then they chased us through the woods. We ran for two days and two nights, hemorrhaging men all the while. It wasn't until Jon and his direwolf came, that the fishmen attempted one last attack, before finally relenting and disappearing back into the woods and the river beyond."
Turning back towards where her friend and the others had gone, her eyes grew wide as she remembered the shadows she had spotted in the river. "Ursa! We have to get her! We need to warn her and the King!"
"Make ready the men," Robb said to Karstark and Bolton, just as the general commanded of the Hellhound. "We ride out for Silverhill immediately!" they said in near unison, causing the army to explode in activity as word traveled to the rear of the company.
"Cadet!" Chi-Ha shouted, drawing her attention. "Take this time to contact whoever is in the grove, and Snow?!" the scarred woman turned to Jon. "Use one of our hawks and send word to the King. Now!"