Brienne
The day had ended, and the night brought a bone deep chill with it.
All the colder for the dark words that had come on proverbial wings. Her lord was calling his banners, and by way of equally black sails, so was his brother.
Brienne of Tarth had not needed to do much to argue her father around to supporting the lord of Storm's End rather than the lord of Dragonstone. Stannis Baratheon was not well liked, and sending a man like Davos Seaworth had not warmed the Evenstar to the words he carried.
She should have been glad of it. She would be able to serve her true lord, and in that her heart was aligned with her duty.
But there was something in the air. Something strange. Ever since the distant crack of thunder had rung out in the afternoon, without storm or lightning to accompany it.
When night fell a red comet had been visible in the sky, though the maester had said it was not predicted for moons yet, and its trail had seemed more like a wound in the heavens than anything natural.
And all the while she had felt something in her breast, like a stone had settled there and would not be moved no matter how she drank or swallowed or forced her breath.
So she had come out to the sapphire shores, darkened by the hour, and tried to find the peace that the perfect blue waters had always given her.
Only, each wave that lapped against her boots only swelled the stone in her chest.
It stole her focus from the water, and held it with the jagged edges of a far more literal sapphire. Or so it felt like. Pressing at her lungs. Scraping at her heart. Swelling to fill her chest, and crying out all the while in a roar like the press of stone against the bones of the mountains.
Cast out from its world, it had found a new home, and settled about the soul of its new bearer. Now the Warden of Earth wished its Dominant to stretch their limbs and breath deep of the aether of an alien world.
Brienne of Tarth roared wordless and broken-voiced in agony, startling the household guards who had kept to the treeline as their lady strolled the shore. Then she stepped into the water and the earth shook at her tread.
Her next stride was the length of a horse, and the one after would have outstripped a stallion at the gallop. Waves crashed against the shore and the trembling of the earth cast everyone in a mile off their feet.
The Titan of Tarth stood hip deep in the Strait, and only that kept her height from exceeding the Hightower itself.
She was the first Eikon to come to the shores of Westeros.
She would not be the last.