Game of Thrones || The Sword of the Morning

The Long Night II

"The beautiful thing about fighting for your life is that no matter how hard you fight, Death can snatch everything from you in an instant. Hope is a gift and a curse. Hope makes you think that everything might be okay in the end, but more often than not, it's a trick. A cruel trick."

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꧁~~The Living~~꧂

"It's gone quiet.."

Theon Greyjoy whispers, the Godawood feeling more eerie than it ever has in his entire life. The Ironborn behind him clutch their weapons as they wait for the inevitable doom they all know is coming. But despite the tension, Bran sits there under the Weirwood tree, silent as a crypt as he stares at the initials 'ED' and 'JS' carved into the white bark of the ancient tree.

"I wish I did things differently, Bran.."

Theon whispers, as he clenches and unclenches the spear in his hands, pacing in the snow slightly as Bran looks away from the tree to Theon. Bran was always confused before about why Theon betrayed the Starks. He was like a brother to them, and yet he betrayed them. But Bran realized long before he became the Three-Eyed-Raven, home is what drives a man forward. That and love, something Theon never had.

"Those decisions brought you to where you stand now- where you belong; home."

Theon let's out a shakey breath as he looks down at the Stark who is nothing like the Stark boy he had known all of those years ago. And despite the blank gaze in Bran's seemingly dead eyes, there is signs of forgiveness, of recognition as a friend and as a brother. And in the end, that is all that Theon Greyjoy wanted.

Ellaria Sand paces back and forth, flicking around her twin Dragonglass daggers in her hands, her breath showing in the frigid yet damp crypt inside of Winterfell.

Tyrion had been drunk for the last few hours. He had been drunk even before the dead had arrived. What's the point in dying if you're not dying sober?

"It's gotten quiet up there."

"Why is nothing happening? Did we lose already?"

Someone asks after Tyrion's comment. But nobody answers the woman as she holds her baby closer to her in her arms. Sansa watches on, feeling utterly useless as the dagger her little sister had given her lies next to her on the ground, waiting for her to stand up and use it.

"I need to be up there... I need to be up there. Maybe baby girls are out there.."

"If you go up there, you'll be putting us all at risk."

Varys states, trying to sound calm and reasonable but it does not seem to ease Ellaria one little bit as she turns sharply.

"What do you know about it? You have no children like me and her!"

She points at the woman who's holding her newborn baby in her arms, whispering soft coes to coax the newborn into sleep.

"You wouldn't understand what it is for man and wife to create life. All you do is scheme and take like a scheming snake slithering about in the garden, biting those you don't like."