AUTHOR'S NOTE: YES THE TITLE OF THIS CHAPTER WAS INSPIRED BY OUR CURRENT HOLIDAY! MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Lyra and Ghost were out by the cliffs, the former resting her back into her Direwolf's fur as they laid in the grass, her knees pointed towards the sky. Her fingers lazily combed through the silken fur of her life long companion as her eyes stared off into the distance, listening to the crashing of waves and the winds blowing her hair from her shadowed gaze. She sighed through her nose, closing her eyes and opening them to stare into the unchanging darkness. This has been her coping mechanism from the moment she reawakened from her untimely death, letting her heightened senses paint out the picture of her surroundings in place of her stolen eye sight. She feared her loss of sight would cripple her abilities to fight back, but something else took their place when she woke up.
Flashback
In the darkness, occasional shapes and colors of lights would form in front of her. At first, it scared her, afraid she was going mad. But after a while, the shapes and colors began to make sense when she interacted with people, seeing a variety of colors surrounding them whenever they were in her range. The first time she made sense of her strange sight was when she was reunited with Sansa. While she may not have been able to see, the light took shape of a beautiful Direwolf that was smaller than Ghost, but still beautiful and magnificent. In the darkness, she relied on touch and memory to help guide her down the steps to approach the Direwolf. As she got closer, the light gradually got brighter, and a scent, one she vaguely recognizes from childhood, filled her nose. The Direwolf stared back at her through the darkness before she leapt towards her, she didn't react in time before she felt arms around her, embracing her into an emotional hug. The moment they touched, she felt every emotion that came from the person holding her. She returned her embrace, letting the pain, sorrow, happiness and relief from this stranger wash over her as the person whispered, "Sister." While the voice sounded different, older, wiser, and pained in comparison to the young happy child she watched growing up, she knew who she was holding in her arms, "San...sa." she whispered in shock, in reality, she was holding her human sister, but through her strange sight, her 'inner sight', as she calls it, she had her arms around the beautiful Direwolf's furry neck, basking in their warmth.
No one but Melisandre knew about her strange gift, the Red Woman was quite intrigued and sought to guide her, teach her how to use her inner sight at will to see the souls of her enemies and allies. It worked when she met Ramsay Bolton for the first time face-to-face...and what she saw was almost as terrifying as the Night King. The Bolton's soul was completely twisted and monstrous as Sansa described him to be. It was absolutely grotesque, it's skin flayed off, a malevolent grin upon its face and eyes that burned a demonic red. Seeing such a soul staring back at her maliciously made her want to grab Sansa and flee to Essos if it meant keeping her little sister away from that monster. But she didn't, she couldn't let the Boltons have the North, she couldn't allow them to destroy her family's home.
On the day of the battle, through her inner sight, she saw the Flayed Man dragging a Direwolf by a leash, this one being much smaller than when she saw Sansa's. In that instant, she knew it was Rickon, her baby brother. When her little Direwolf started running toward her, she ignored all reason and galloped towards him in the field of darkness, her ears picking up the arrows being loosed by the Flayed Man. Her life didn't matter, only the little Direwolf that was coming straight towards her, begging her to save him. But when that arrow struck him down, all she could hear at that moment was the high pitched screaming yelp from the little Direwolf before it disappeared into little balls of light, back into the earth.
That moment, that heartbreaking moment that tore her soul to pieces, her grief turned to anger, anger turned to rage, until finally, it activated her inner sight to a range of a hundred yards. In the world her inner sight allowed her to see, she saw thousands of screaming Flayed Soldiers backing the monster that is Ramsey, and her own army that consisted of the Mormont Bears roaring ferociously, the Hornwood Black Mooses stomping their hooves angrily, and the Free Folk's souls resembling mammoths trumpeting their war cry.
She never questioned her inner sight, her soul empty as she struck down any Flayed Soldiers that came near her. She didn't feel anything, she just killed her enemies. But even in darkness, even with her inner sight, she knew the battle was lost when they were surrounded, she whispered a prayer to the Old Gods to protect Sansa before she would meet her end again. However, the moment when that war horn sounded, her inner sight saw Falcons, the Knights of the Vale, swooping in and taking out the Flayed Soldiers. In the darkness, she saw her Direwolf sister standing at the lead, watching the Falcons take out the Flayed men with a Mocking Bird smirking beside her.
The battle turned in their favor, all the brave souls intermingling into one spirit as they fought the Flayed Soldiers. Through the darkness, she saw anger and displeasure from Ramsay's demonic soul as he retreated from the battle field. But she refused to allow him to get away, not without avenging her innocent little brother. Together, with the giant Wun Wun, the Free Folk, they rushed toward Winterfell for their final stand to end Ramsay. Breaking down the gate was an easy feet for a giant, but she never wanted such an ally and friend to die in the process.
Standing in Winterfell in the middle of darkness, she glared at the Flayed Man who mockingly reconsidered one on one combat when all the arrows were pointed at him. She heard the arrow fly before it was released, in her mind, the deadly projectile flew at her in slow motion, the disruption in the air warning her of what was coming. She didn't hear the gasps from her soldiers when her hand shot out to catch that arrow, seething in burning rage as she stomped towards the Flayed Man, snapping the arrow in half with her fingers in one hand before dropping it to the blood soaked ground. She caught the next two arrows with precision and ease, breaking each of them in her hands, not stopping to think about how she was able to do such a thing before she started beating Ramsay into a bloody pulp, gouging his right eye out in anger and vengeance for her murdered brother and defiled sister. It wasn't until she smelled Sansa through the blood and death that she stopped beating him up, realizing how she must look to her little Sansa, covered in the blood of their enemies and allies. Not wanting her sister to see her become a vicious animal towards their hated foe, she got off of the weakened bastard before ordering her men to take him away.
She turned off her inner sight and sat down, completely exhausted by the battle and from using her inner sight. Alone in the darkness again with only the sounds of people striking the Bolton banners and taking way the dead soldiers filling her darkened world. After wiping the caked on blood and dirt clean from her face, Sansa approached her to ask where Ramsay was being kept. After changing into much cleaner clothes, she accompanied her sister to the kennels where the Bolton bastard was tied up in. She didn't dare turn on her inner sight for the energy it would take just to see the ugly Flayed Man again. She stood close to her sister as the smell of Ramsay's blood hit her nose and his pained groans filled her ears. She listened to Sansa and the bastard talk as her ears caught the sound of the hounds padding toward their master. Before he met his fate, she coldly says, "Give Roose Bolton my regards. The North Remembers." She didn't have to see or use her inner sight to enjoy the sounds of Ramsay being ripped apart by the very dogs he trained and used for his own sick game, and didn't have to see Sansa's look of satisfaction and relief as they walked away from the kennels, his screams being music to the sisters.
On the ramparts overlooking the moors of Winterfell, the sisters talked with each other, the Tully hair Direwolf watching her half-sister whose eyes were now void of natural and unnatural sight.
"You said you were blind." Sansa stated, her blue eyes searching for the faded grey-violet hues that were now hidden by long bangs blowing in the winter winds, allowing only one of her eyes to become visible.
Lyra didn't face her sister, she stared distantly at the snow, "I am." she said bluntly, feeling tired and empty from everything that has happened in recent events.
"But the way you fought," Sansa said, shaking her head in exasperation, "no blind person could ever fight like you did." her mouth gaped, remembering how her older sister moved in a deadly dance as she sliced through her unseen enemies.
Lyra looked down, knowing she must tell her sister, "I don't know how to explain it Sansa." she whispered, her voice raspy from all the battle cries and screams. "Something happened to me, something I can't explain because I don't know how or why it happened to me." she turned to face the direction where she felt her sister standing, her darkened gaze half-lidded and faraway. "I can no longer see the world through your eyes Sansa, what ever I have, a curse, a blessing..." she shook her head, "...I'm not using that sight at the moment, only darkness is what I see now. I won't use it unless necessary."
"What do you see with...'that sight'?" Sansa asked, watching Lyra's visible eye, seeing if they would change color as they did earlier when she saw her beating up Ramsay. "I'm not afraid if that's what you're thinking." Lyra looked up at her through her unseeing gaze, "You're still my sister no matter what. This will not change anything. Show me." Sansa firmly said, refusing to let this ability change her views of her sister.
Lyra was silent for a moment as she took in a deep breath and closing her eyes, focusing on her inner sight before opening her eyes, finding herself alone with the beautiful Direwolf. Sansa gasped, watching Lyra's eyes glow a feint purple, upon closer inspection, she saw specs of violet twinkling within the grey, giving it a silver gleam.
"What do you see?" Sansa asked, amazed by the beauty of her sister's eyes.
"You." Lyra said, staring into the Direwolf's blue eyes, "I see who you are on the inside, what your soul looks like." she paused as Sansa's eyes widened, "It's beautiful little sister, but most of all, it shows who you really are." she smiled, reaching her hand to touch the side of the Direwolf's face. Sansa leaned into her sister's touch, finding contact she long denied in the past comforting, watching Lyra's eyes shine in their own sight. "I see a Direwolf." Sansa gasped at what Lyra said, "Beautiful, but most of all, above all the hardships you endured, I can see and feel strength, love, and resilience. That is what you are, a true Direwolf, just like Father."
A tear slipped from Sansa's eye at the praise and pride within Lyra's voice as she described what she was able to see. Bringing her own hand to Her elder sister's face, she pushed her bangs to the side to get a better look at her enchanting gaze. "You are also a Direwolf." she said, earning a melancholy smile from the woman, "But I'm not a Stark." she said, remembering what made her different from their family.
"You are to me." Sansa said, stroking her gloved finger over delicate cheekbones as the glow within Lyra's eyes faded back to a pale gaze. The older girl groaned, shutting her eyes as a migraine throbbed within her head, one of her hands leaving Sansa to massage her temples.
"Lyra?" Sansa panicked as her older sister swayed a little, holding onto her tightly in case she fell.
Lyra groaned as the migraine started to fade, "I am fine, my inner sight took much out of me in this battle. This gift has helped me quite a bit in our quest, but I prefer not to use it unless necessary. It can be pretty exhausting." she explained, assuring Sansa that she was alright.
Sansa let out a relieved sigh as she released her sister, but kept close to her, "Does anyone else know?" Lyra shook her head, "Only Ser Davos, Melisandre and yourself. It's better we don't advertise it. Most of the people here don't even know I'm blind, and I prefer they don't know, at least not yet. I don't want to give them a reason to pity me, or be afraid of me." Lyra said, having felt the stares of her former brothers when they saw her faded gaze.
Sansa nodded, understanding her reason behind wanting to keep this secret closed. Then she remembered something, "How did you catch Ramsay's arrows when you couldn't see them?" she asked, remembering and hearing talks of how Lyra caught the arrows as though they were nothing, stunning and bewildering them with her unfounded ability.
Lyra was silent as she tried to remember exactly how that moment happened before she started punching the bastard, "Haven't quite figured that out yet. It's still quite a blur." she answered, just as shocked at herself for how that happened.
Sansa breathed out a laugh, "You may very well be the first Northerner, and woman, to ever catch three arrows in close proximity and speed." she praised as she linked arms with her sister and proceeded to walk them back inside.
Lyra chuckled as she allowed Sansa to lead her through the halls she remembered passing through, "I always wanted to get my name in the history books somehow." she teased, making Sansa laugh as they enjoyed each other's company, basking in their victory and bond for the first time in years.
End Flashback
Lyra blinked, coming back to the present as she listened to the waves, letting the sounds sooth her aching heart. The thought of her only sibling alive brought a tear in her eye, one she quickly dried to not show weakness. Before she left for Dragonstone, she used her inner sight for a moment to see Sansa's Direwolf soul howling, telling her goodbye. She shook her head and sighed, "I came here for my sister. To give her and our people a surviving fighting chance for when the Night King comes. But instead, I'm dealing with yet another stubborn King." she whispered to Ghost, her trusted companion, who turned his head to her in response.
"I know, I can't give up. Sansa's counting on me, the North is counting on me." she stared off into the distance, imagining Winterfell, and her sister waiting for her in the courtyard, waiting for her to come back.
"This is not gonna be easy boy. On the bright side, at least he's not Cersei." Lyra said, earning a quiet whine of agreement from Ghost, making her smile a little before her mind returned to that confrontation with the Dragon King. That moment she heard him stand up from his throne to approach her, she immediately turned on her inner sight on reflex. What she saw made her freeze in shock and amazement, his soul, his very being, was basked in a bright light, taking form of a Dragon he was well known as. It was almost as large as a giant, if not larger, its scales were silver and its eyes, an unyielding violet. She wasn't afraid, completely hypnotized by the beauty of such a creature as Aegon got closer. While Aegon held her face in the real world, her inner sight of the Dragon was much different when he held her like that. Its wings surrounded her, giving her no room for escape as he stared into her eyes, trying find all the secrets she keeps hidden inside. She switched off her inner sight when he confirmed her 'disability', his hands still on her face. She remembered how hot his hands felt on her cold skin, as though he was a walking torch ready to burn anyone in his way.
She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard footsteps approaching, "Hello Lord Tyrion."
The dwarf stopped in his steps, "How did you know? Was it my foot steps?" he asked, remember being told that his foot steps are much light in comparison to a person of average height.
"You smell of wine." Lyra bluntly said, smiling as Ghost seemed to chuckle at her answer.
"Compensating the loss of sight with your other heightened senses." Tyrion shrugged as he stood a distance from the blind Queen, watching the waves then glancing at her, the position she and the Direwolf were in painted a beautiful enchanting picture that would melt the hearts of anyone who saw. Seeing the blind Queen sitting so close to the cliffs made him concerned for her safety, one of the reasons why he approached her while she was alone.
"I came here to brood over my failure to predict the Greyjoy attack." He said, looking out at the ocean before glancing at the Northern Queen who stroked Ghost's fur absentmindedly, "You're making it difficult. You look a lot better brooding than I do. You make me feel like I'm failing at brooding over failure." Tyrion jested in order to lighten the mood and awkward silence.
"I'm a prisoner on this island." Lyra stated, ignoring Tyrion's attempts to joke. "I wouldn't say you're a prisoner on this island." Tyrion said, looking discomforted, "You're free to walk the castle, the beaches, to go wherever you want-"
"Except to my ship." Lyra cut him off, "You took my ship." she said, glaring into the darkness.
"I wouldn't say we took your ship-"
"I'm not playing word games with you." Lyra cut him off again, her patience running thin. "The dead are coming for us all."
"Why don't you figure out what to do about my missing fleet and murdered allies, and I'll figure out what to do about your walking dead men." Tyrion said sarcastically, looking at Lyra in frustration.
"It's hard for me to fathom, it really is." Lyra shot back at the dwarf, fixing her stare in his direction, "If someone told me about the White Walkers and the Night King..." she sighed as Ghost nuzzled her shoulder in comfort, "...you probably don't believe me." she said scratching her Direwolf's muzzle.
Tyrion watched Lyra show affection to her animal before responding, "I do actually."
Lyra scoffed under her breath, "You didn't before." she said, remembering Tyrion's reaction back in the throne room, "I know you think it's nonsense."
Tyrion nodded, "It was nonsense. Everybody knew it." he walked closer to where Lyra laid with Ghost, "but then Mormont saw them, and you saw them, and I trust the eyes of an honest woman more than I trust what everybody knows." he said as he came beside her, being eye level with her blind gaze he was trying to get used to.
Lyra sighed through her nose as she gazed at the horizon, "How do I convince people who don't know me that an enemy they don't believe in is coming to kill them all?" she asked, frustrated at her failed attempts to convince the Dragon King to help her.
"Good question." Tyrion commented.
"I know it's a good question. I'm looking for an answer." Lyra said, running her fingers through Ghost's fur.
"People's minds are not made for problems that large." Tyrion said, trying to offer the girl some comfort. "White Walkers. The Night King. Army of the Dead." he shook his head, "It's almost a relief to confront a comfortable familiar monster like my sister."
Lyra couldn't help but nod in agreement, "I need to help prepare my people for what's coming. I can't help them by staying here doing nothing." she let out a breath, "Everyone told me to learn from my Father's mistakes. Don't go South, don't answer a summons from a Mad King's son, a foreign invader." she shook her head at herself, "And here I am, a Northern fool."
"Children are not their Fathers. Luckily for all of us." Tyrion stated, happy he was different from his own Father, "You yourself said so to Aegon back there, and that alone made him happy." he commented, remembering the look of relief the King failed to hide from his Hand. "And sometimes, there is more to foreign invaders and Northern fools than meets the eye." Lyra's unseeing gaze was focused on his voice, "Aegon could've sailed for Westeros long ago, but he didn't. Instead, he stayed where he was and saved many people from horrible fates. Some of whom are on this island right now." he added, watching Lyra process his words, "While you're here, you might consider asking them what they think of the Mad King's son. He protects people from monsters. Just as you do. It's why he came here, and he's not about to head North to fight an enemy he's never seen on the word of a woman he doesn't know." he said, glancing at the horizon for a second before returning to her, "After a single meeting...it's not a reasonable thing to ask."
Lyra was silent as she contemplated his words before standing up with Ghost following her and walking passed Tyrion without a word. "So do you have anything reasonable to ask?" The dwarf asked, stopping Lyra in her tracks before she turned around to face him, her fur cloak blowing in the wind, "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice sounding tired from how her day is currently going.
"Maybe you are a Northern fool. I'm asking if there's something I can do to help you." Tyrion clarified, watching as Lyra glanced at Ghost, her blind gaze locking on blood red, as though they were having a silent conversation before they turned to Tyrion simultaneously, her bangs flying in the wind, giving the dwarf her blind stare that normally scares people.
"Dragon glass." Aegon repeated, staring at Tyrion from across the Painted Table, as though he suddenly grew taller before his eyes.
"Volcanic glass. Obsidian." Tyrion said, knowing this would sound ridiculous to Aegon, "He says you have a tremendous amount of it here."
"Why are we talking about glass? We just lost two of our allies." Aegon exclaimed, not understanding why they were having this conversation when they more important things to worry about.
"Which was why I was speaking to Lyra Snow. A potential ally." Tyrion answered, being patient with the King
Aegon raised an eyebrow at his statement, "And what does the Queen in the North want with dragon glass?" he asked, curious as to why she would need something like that.
"Apparently it can be turned into weapons that can kill White Walkers and their foot soldiers...or stop them. Destroy them?" Tyrion added, not sure how to phrase a term when it comes to killing what's already dead.
Aegon walked around the Painted Table, "And what do you think about this...Army of the Dead, White Walkers, and Night Kings?" he asked for his Hand's opinion, still finding the idea of such a thing imaginary.
"I very much like to believe Lyra Snow is wrong." Tyrion said as Aegon came near him, "But a wise man once said you should never believe a thing simply because you want to believe it."
Aegon stared at him with his arms crossed in front of him, "Which wise man said this?" he asked as Tyrion was silent for a moment before answering, "I don't remember."
"You're trying to present your statements as ancient wisdom." Aegon stated, staring at him unblinking.
"I would never do that...to you." Tyrion said after a moment before Aegon paced a little.
"The reason I believe Lyra Snow, is because she's here." Tyrion explained, turning as Aegon walked about slowly, a contemplative look on the King's face, "All of his advisors would've told her not to come, I would've told her not to come. But she's here anyway." Tyrion shook his head slightly as he watched Aegon's back, "You don't have to believe him. Let her mine the dragon glass. If she's wrong, it's useless. You didn't even know it was here. It's nothing to you." Tyrion paused as Aegon stared into the fireplace before taking a step closer to the King, "Give her something, by giving her nothing. Take a step towards making a more productive relationship with a possible ally. Keep her occupied while we focus on the task at hand. Like Casterly Rock." he added, hoping this would cheer him up, at least a little.
Aegon listened to his Hand speak, yet his mind was on the Northern Queen who cannot see. How did she lose her sight? Was it after she won the Battle of Bastards that made the Northerners announce her as their Queen. He can still feel the icy coldness to her skin when he moved her hair out of her eyes. Aside from the shocking cold, he could never stop thinking about how distant and faraway her eyes were as he look into them. They were vacant, and held a sadness that was deeply hidden as she stared back at him, but could see him. And what was with her habit of covering her eyes from people? They would feel more comfortable around her if she would at least show her face. In his opinion, she was too pretty to hide her face.
Shaking his head out of his thought, he turned to Tyrion, "How is it that a blind woman such as her is chosen as Queen? What did the Northerners see in her that was worthy of a crown?" he asked, trying to understand the mystery surrounding that woman.
Tyrion opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Shaking his head he admitted, "I don't know, I haven't taken the time to ask that question. All I know is that she and her sister Sansa, a trueborn Stark, took back their ancestral home from the Boltons." he said, remembering what Varys told him thanks to the latter's little birds, "Between the trueborn and the highborn bastard, they place their trust in Lyra Snow to lead them as their Queen." he sighed looking up at the King, "Ned Stark was likable in the North for his honor, love and devotion to his people, and she is every bit a Stark in appearance and personality despite not inheriting the name. Maybe they saw good ol' Ned in his bastard more than Sansa who takes after her Southern Tully Mother." the dwarf shrugged, "We'll never know unless she tells us."
Aegon digested what Tyrion said to him, his eyes glancing at the Painted Table, more specifically where the North is carved into the stone. "You're curious about her." Tyrion stated, making Aegon glance at him, "Admit it, from the moment you heard about her, you wanted to know how a woman such as her started from a simple runaway bastard to becoming a blind Queen in the North." he said as an idea came to mind, "Try getting to know her. Youtwo have more in common than you realize. You both became leaders for a reason, try learning about her, find kinship, friendship if it could help you two understand each other better. Maybe that way, you can agree upon an alliance." he finished with a satisfied smile, hoping this idea would generate a positive outcome along with the dragon glass.
Aegon thought about what he said, the idea wasn't unappealing to him, and getting to know her might quell that nagging feeling of curiosity that seemed to revolve around Lyra Snow. He knows she's hiding something despite her honesty she demonstrated since the moment she set foot on this island, and he wants to find out what it is.
He walked out of the room, "I need time to think." he said as he left the room, needing some fresh air as well as alone time to think over the dragon glass idea.
Early Christmas gift. Ho ho ho. All of you were curious as to how she was able to win in her fight during the Battle of Bastards if she couldn't see. Well here you are. Oh, and if you're wondering about that cave scene, I promise, I'll try not to make it crappy. I am mixing dialogue from the show with my own ideas.
