Cinders in the Dark

Watery Halls

{none of this is canon. I made it all up and it's only going to get weirder}

Lucinda descended the stairs arm in arm with Lord Blackwood. It was much easier to see now that the stairs were covered in hundreds of candles. She wondered if the lord had brought them all with them or if there was a store room somewhere full of candles she hadn't stumbled into yet. The castle was as empty as always despite the alarming force of men the lord had brought with him. They didn't encounter a single person as they walked through the castle.
She recognized the route they were taking, headed towards her fathers office. She hoped her father was there, waiting for her. Lord Blackwood pushed the doors open, ushering her inside before closing them. She felt oddly calm given the situation at hand. At least now she could stop waiting in anticipation. She would finally get some answers.
Once they arrived at her fathers desk, she knew her father would not be joining them. And the lord had the audacity to sit behind his desk and motion for her to have a seat in her own house. She did so without comment.

"You're familiar with the watery halls?"

Horrible opener in her opinion and her shocked face immediately alerted him to the fact.

"Do you intend to send me there, Lord Blackwood?"

His hazel eyes were staring at her curiously, his gaze softening since he'd taken the castle.

"Depends."

She waited in the painful silence afterwards for him to continue the sentence. And when he stared back not saying another word, she broke first.

"Depends on what?" Her eyes darted everywhere but his.

"If you're going to marry me in the Burnished Sept."

The inside of her cheek was destroyed from where she kept anxiously biting it.

"So, I marry you in the bowels of this haunted castle or you send me to the watery halls?"

She was now more confused than ever. Why had he committed murder then? Why storm the castle? Why were there so many fucking candles everywhere? Her face was scrunched up, showing her bafflement.

"Essentially." He replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Why me?" There was something he wasn't telling her.

"Have you heard the story of the Night's King?"

That was worse than bringing up the watery halls. Just what the fuck was this man messing with?

"The Northmen defeated the Night's King." She was trying not to start freaking out. The wall is leagues from here and forbidden to women. The Night's King a story to scare children in their beds.

The arrogant tone he responded in turned her blood. "Did they? Do you think Night can ever really be defeated?"

"Why do you have so many bloody candles lit then hm?"

Her fear was waning and her indignation was rising. How dare this, this old gods freak, come spouting myths at her. Like she didn't spend her entire life reading about folklore and studying magic where she felt it. But then, Lord Blackwood knew strange magic she didn't.

"The candles are for you. I've seen what you do in the dark, best to keep you lit."

If he was referring to her trying to die down beneath the castle, that was one time. It wasn't like she was trying to off herself on a regular basis. She shook her head, he was getting her off point.

"What about the Night's King?"

"He gave his soul to the corpse queen."

He was three for three on creepy as fuck things to say to your newly betrothed after storming her castle.