Naveena TARGARYEN :||: Queen Series #3

19) The Long Night

Rhaenys
The castle was silent. Every man, woman and child capable of fighting had already prepared, already taken up their post, prepared to fight. Every man, woman and child unable to fight had disappeared deep into the crypts under the instruction of Sansa and were left in the capable hands of Tyrion, wielding only a small dragonglass cutlass.

It was silent. Not even the wind howled, though the torches flickered, it kept quiet, seeming to know the danger we were about to face. The dogs did not bark, surely smelling the stench of our death on our enemy waiting just across the battlefield.

Silence. No clink of armour, no rustle of nerves, no crunching of snow. Not a sound. Everything was still.

Arya and I stood in the armoury, where the smith had met me moments before, carrying the heavy Valyrian steel armour I had requested. When I had asked, I'd gotten a few strange looks from the men, especially Jon. But when I had insisted it had to be Valyrian steel, Brienne gave up her beloved sword Oathkeeper, Jamie Lannister had gifted her.

"Will it be enough?" I asked the smith. "I don't need it to cover all of me just my torso."

The others had given me confused looks, most likely thinking I was being greedy. Requesting this much Valyrian steel when it was so important in the fight against the Army of the Dead. But Brienne hadn't hesitated and hadn't complained, she trusted me and that was enough.

The smith had understood my instructions about being minimal, only needing to cover the important bits. Arya lifted the discs of metal above my head and I shimmied it down my body. The armour was hard, strong but pliable, conforming to my round belly with ease, whilst still acting like a second skin. The armour had been put together in thin discs, falling down my body like actual dragon scales. With the dancing light of the torches around the room, I looked like a red beast, ready to wage war.

"How does it feel? Heavy?" Arya asked, inspecting the armour to ensure it was sitting correctly.

"Yes, but not too heavy, it's surprisingly easy to move around in."

She nodded and eyed my arms and legs, covered in normal chainmail. Arya opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "Are you ready?"

"I have to be," I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood brought on by potential death.

Arya grabbed my hands before I could reach for my sword. "Are you sure I can't convince you to go below to the crypts? You're carrying a baby."

I squeezed her hands and gave her a soft smile. "As Tyrion said, we've all been fighting our entire lives to be here for this moment. I did not survive all those battles just to crawl underground."

Arya sighed but nodded in understanding. She leaned in slightly and it looked like she might embrace me but she straightened again, eyes focusing on the Stark symbol of the wolf the smith had placed in the centre of my chest, above my heart. Someone cleared their throat from the doorway and we turned to find Jon leaning against the frame. Arya excused herself, embracing her brother on the way out.

Jon turned to me, his handsome face etched with worry and exhaustion and the battle hadn't even begun. He strode towards me, brows furrowed in concern, wrapping his strong arms around me and pressing his forehead to mine. We stood like that for a long moment, listening to each other's breathing. It would be the most reassuring sound of the entire night.

"I will find you again," He whispered, his eyelids fluttering open to stare into mine. "If not in this world, then the next."

"And we will be together?" I barely breathed.

"Always," Jon murmured before his lips gently touched mine. It wasn't passionate or sensual but it wasn't quite a farewell kiss either. It was full of promise, that we would be together, no matter what.