The Shadow Queen of Tywin Lannister

CLVI. Shared Grief

[A/N] - 5.298 words, to make up for all the previous chapters that were far shorter than usual.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So many battles had been recorded throughout the known history of men occupying the lands of Westeros. Hundreds of stories and songs had been passed down from one generation to the other, the memory of the deceased ones living through them.

However, it was not only battles and stories and songs that remained stable across the moving and ever-shifting history. Prophecies as well had been passed down, some talking of similar things and some of opposites.

Some prophecies connected with religion and others with living people that once roamed the lands, leaving their mark in the pages of history books the Maesters of the Citadel would write and store.

One could not count how many battles had taken place, how many lives had been lost over lands, riches, titles and even prophecies.

There were always those, who supported someone they believed was the one a prophecy talked about or even believed they were the ones someone had foretold of so long ago.

Yet, one never truly thought of the accuracy of those prophecies. After all, a person alone cannot save the world on their own. Help will always be needed and sometimes, it might take more than one person to truly make the difference.

Whether be a Prince or a Princess that was Promised to be born through smoke and salt, whether be the much awaited Azor Azhai or even the Targaryen on the Iron Throne meant to unite the Kingdoms...one would never expect that perhaps all those prophecies talked of the same things...of the same people.

Mayhap it was never a single person but one could say could be Seven.

Each one brought together something into this Big Battle that had long been foretold. Each one did their part and they all united under a single goal, a single dream and a single mission. Each role was different and yet together proved to be the pieces needed for humanity to be saved.

One could take as an example the Seven Faces of a Single God that many worshipped and believed in. Who was to say that all those prophecies talked of each one of its many faces, each side representing a part of the lives of mankind and of a role one had to play in the Battle of the Long Night?

The Father, who fought in the heat of battle and defended his children until his last breath. Whose strength made him stand like a rock and keep fighting, despite the wounds on his body. He could only rest when he knew that his children were safe from harm.

The Mother, who brought life into the cruel world and led her children into the heart of battle. She was the one, who knew the beauty of giving and cherishing life but also the pain of losing it. Yet, she still took the risk and made a difference in this Great Battle.

The Warrior, who fought in the front lines without a single inch of fear in his body. His courage was his most powerful weapon, not once backing down even when his comrades and fellow soldiers perished under foreign blades made of ice. His strength helped to keep him alive and save not only those, who truly mattered to him but also many others.

The Smith, who made the very same weapons they needed to fight such dark power. He carried his own weapon into battle, fighting alongside soldiers and fixing what his predecessor had ruined.

The Maiden, whose innocence was never one to be mistaken for weakness. She gave strength to the others and did not run away in the face of danger. Her tribute, in its own right, and her choices were her weapons that helped others to continue and keep going; despite the tiredness they felt across their bodies.