She walked through the door into the throne room. Darkness laid upon it, only the moon's silvery tendrils creeping through the window behind the Iron Throne and shining directly onto her separated her from the shadows of her surroundings. She held up her arm to shield her eyes from the brightness, as her gaze fell upon her dress. Dark red, and heavy. Her mother's - at least, what might have once been her mother's, back before Cerelle had run away.
What was she doing here? The room held nothing extraordinary, it was just as she remembered it from ten years ago.
Slowly, carefully, every step taken as if it might be her last, she tread forward into the room, the light following her every move. And just when she felt comfortable, a growl sounded from behind her.
Cerelle turned towards the noise and was faced with an enormous grey wolf with eerie red eyes, taller than even herself, with fangs sharp enough to cut through ice. It circled her, paced around her in an attempt to frighten her, or even to assess if she made for worthy prey.
Yet she knew the direwolf - for that's what this beast was - would not harm her, not with eyes like this. And so, she closed her eyes and lowered her head, proving that she posed no threat to him either, that she was in full submission to the beautiful creature before her. The growling stopped, and something prodded at her chest. The wolf had grown smaller, less dangerous, and was now asking for her attention. A smile, a genuine, honest smile spread on her face, yet just as she laid her hand onto the soft fur, the Wall broke and a wave crashed upon them.
The water hurled her across the room, this way and that, pulling at her hair, her clothing, her skin. Soon she had forgotten what up and down, left and right, front and back was. All that remained was the current playing with her like a simple leaf in the wind.
Suddenly, she bumped into something hard, and the water was gone. Wet and cold and miserable, she gasped for air, yet no matter how much she swallowed, her heartbeat refused to obey her. Her hands fumbled about, until one of them finally closed around something sharp. She let herself fall backward, onto the small platform she somehow knew was there. Staring down at the room, the light falling through the window behind her, she finally realised where she was.
The Iron Throne was every bit as uncomfortable as it looked. Blades all around, closing in on her, thirsting for blood. She knew she should run away as far as her legs could carry her, yet something kept her tied to her seat. No rope or chain, but a force from deep inside of herself.
She ended up sitting on the throne for far longer than she should have, yet eventually stood up, and left. Left the cold room, the abandoned castle, the frozen city. Left towards the north, the true north. Left just in time to miss the shadow of a dragon passing over what remained of her home.