The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Winter Is Coming

Edrick awoke to the sound of a horn blaring out into the night.

The first blast had him grumbling and shoving a pillow over his head, trying to get back to sleep. The second had him scrambling to get out of bed and get dressed, reaching for his sword. And the third made him stop dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

He glanced at Rickon, whom he now shared a small sleeping cell with.

"Others are coming," The little boy said, eyes sharp and eager.

Gods, that child had something wrong with him. Edrick had always been considered reckless to the point of stupidity, but his cousin, the little Lord of Winterfell, put him to shame.

"You're a danger to yourself. Come on,"

Stomach clenching unpleasantly, he got dressed then grabbed Rickon's hand, which the boy shook off immediately, but no matter.

They joined the throng of people crowding in the courtyard, including Jon, Jaime Lannister and various important people from the Night's Watch, Wildlings and Southron armies. The Red Witch was there too, for whatever reason. People were preparing for a fight - the clang of swords, axes and spears was overwhelming - though what they could do against the Others was anyone's guess.

A strange, thudding noise could be heard above the din.

"Five Others come bearing a white flag from the north," Jon pushed his way towards them, offering a grim, slightly hopeless smile. Only six. Better than an army. "And a white dragon approaches from the south,"

What? But Edrick's heart began to race in anticipation as he realised what that thudding noise was in the distance, growing louder and louder, closer and closer. Seven hells. After weeks of nothing, everything was descending on them at once.

"Lady Stark must have been too blunt in her negotiations," Jaime Lannister, who had stayed behind to command the southern armies, said with a dark smile.

As if the man who had killed the dragon queen's father would've done any better.

"Caught between ice and fire," The steward, Dolorous Edd, said gloomily. "Just my luck. Most men only get killed by one or the other,"

The words were scarcely out his mouth when an enormous white and gold shape filled the sky above them, heading for beyond the Wall. A second or so of chaos - men yelling out or gawping at the night sky, horses screaming, great gusts of wind that threatened to extinguish the torches - before there was a shriek of rage (or pain) from the beast. No one was quite sure what happened at first, but then the dragon was driven at the Wall once again, and once again seemed to be repelled by an invisible barrier preventing it from going any further north.

"Gods," Someone moaned. "Now it'll turn on us,"

It didn't. In fact, the dragon landed a short distance from Castle Black and a figure slid off its back. Not the dragon queen they were expecting, but a man, tall, dark and lean with a mad glint in his eye.

Euron Greyjoy, he introduced himself with a cruel smile, rider of Viserion. Crow's Eye.

As Lord Commander, Jon did most of the talking, though both the northern and southron lords were behind him, the Wildlings too. Greyjoy explained that he was allied to the Daenerys Targaryen - who had apparently just let him take one of her dragons - scouting out whether the threat to the North that Rosennis Stark spoke of is real.

Jon was suspicious of the man's true intentions, given how the dragon was repelled trying to fly over the Wall without even trying to make contact with the Watch first. Everyone knew of Greyjoy's reputation, besides; Asha Greyjoy was their prisoner and had nothing good to say about her uncle, nor anyone really, but the tales of Euron were the nastiest by far. Among countless other things, he had raped his brother Victarion's wife, his ship the Silence was manned by a crew of tongueless sailors, he had burned Lannisport during the Greyjoy Rebellion, and he'd done unspeakable things to his youngest brother Aeron when he was a child.