The Shadow Queen of Tywin Lannister

CXLV. Family Swords & Haunting Songs

Godswood, Winterfell – The North – 1 Day before the Battle

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The big Battle was almost there, the days had passed and the army of the undead was almost outside the gates of Winterfell. Everyone was ready, many were nervous but very few truly showed it.

Visenya was from those who continued normally, just double-checking that everything would go according to plan. She spent her time with her loved ones and at night, she was plagued by the same dream; the dream of her death.

She hid any thoughts behind a small smile and used all of her training across the years to keep her mind focused on the present tasks and not what was meant to happen later on.

That particular evening, Visenya was informed that Bran wished to see her at the Godswood; the rather sacred place of the Northerners and the Stark, a sacred place she never expected to visit.

A real weirwood tree was right in the middle of it, the old carved faces staring back at her as she approached. She had never seen a weirwood tree before and she found herself slowing down, having this odd feeling that they were truly watching her; judging her for her actions.

Her Lannister guard had remained outside, for she did not wish to come with any hostilities into such sacred ground. Visenya had learnt about all kinds of religions when she travelled to Essos, specifically Braavos and she respected them all; as long as they did not force themselves on others.

Perhaps that was the main reason she never liked the Faith of the Seven. For it had come with the Andals and was forced upon the Kings of each Westerosi Realm, eventually leading to the massacre of hundreds of innocent Children of the forest.

Speaking of them, they had made their home around the ancient tree but her approach had drawn them out. They stared at her as she approached, some checking from a distance but a few were brave enough to take a few steps closer.

Bran was sitting by his wheelchair close to the base of the Tree, watching her with the same distant and emotionless look he seemed to have.

"Lady Visenya" he greeted, his voice not always matching his face.

"Lord Bran" she greeted back as she came to a halt a respectful distance from him but took notice of the clothed item lying on his lap.

"I am no Lord. I cannot take such titles as the Three-Eyed Raven" he informed her, not once offended that she had gone with the safest and most common option in addressing him.

Something about his 'title' made her want to scoff but she did not let it happen. It was this whole idea that simply complicated her life, by bringing her gifts to the surface and forcing her to expose them to everyone around her.

She was a believer, having seen a lot of things over the years but she still did not like how Bran carried himself; or the little care he seemed to have of family or certain issues. Sure, he was supposed to be this solitary man meant to re-watch the past but Visenya believed he could be more.

Sensing movement around her, her eyes scanned the space by her left and by her right; only to see a few Children of the Forest having approached her. They were the size of a human child but fully into adulthood for their species.

Their skin was in the shade of nut-brown skin and it was dappled like a deer's with paler spots. Their hands, Visenya had noticed, only possessed three fingers and a thumb, with sharp black claws instead of nails.

Their ears were unusually large and she remembered tales about them, about their hearing being so sensitive that they could pick up sounds no human ever could. Their eyes had this mixture of green and gold but their pupil was slit like a cat's.