Face The Darkness | GoT x Night King Reader

Chapter 10

"Your fire will not save you here," I murmur, "But I offer you a choice."

The girl, her eyes brimming with defiance, looks up at me through the curtain of her hair. "I will never serve you," she spits, the warmth of her anger a stark contrast to the cold seeping into her limbs.

"Serve?" I repeat, my voice a low rumble that seems to shake the very air. "You think this is about service?" I lean closer, my icy breath misting before her face. "This is about balance, about ending the cycle that has plagued this world since its birth. Your fire is a part of that balance, a part of the eternal dance of life and death."

The girl's eyes flicker with understanding, and for a moment, I see the warmth of hope within her. "I can feel it," she whispers, her breath a cloud in the cold. "There's... some connection between us."

"Yes," I reply, the word a rumble that seems to resonate through the very bones of the earth. "The blood of the dragon flows through your veins, as it once did through mine. It is a bond that transcends the veil of the living and the dead. What is your name, child?"

Her eyes narrow, the warmth of her spirit refusing to be snuffed out. "I am Arya," she says, her voice a fiery whisper in the frozen air. "Daughter of House Targaryen."

"Arya," I repeat, the name a warm echo from a time long past. "The dragon's blood runs true in you. Why would they send such a valuable fighter into this battle?"

"They sent me because I know how to fight," she retorts, her teeth chattering with the cold. "I am the weapon they need to end you."

"End me?" I ask, amusement flickering in my icy gaze. "And what makes you think you can do what countless others have failed to achieve?"

"The same thing that makes me think I can do anything," Arya says, her voice steady despite the cold that clings to her. "I'm a survivor. And I have a list of names to keep me warm."

"A list," I murmur, the concept strange to my undying ears. "What names could possibly hold such power?"

Arya's eyes flash with a fierce light, the warmth of her hatred a stark contrast to the cold that surrounds us. "Those who have wronged me," she says, her voice a fiery whisper. "Those who have taken from me. Your name is not on it, yet. But perhaps it should be."

"Is that all you live for?" I ask, the question a cold challenge. "Revenge?"

Her eyes, filled with the warmth of determination, meet mine. "For now," she says, the fire in her voice undimmed by the freeze that grips her body.

A chuckle, cold as the grave, rumbles through my chest. "Madness," I murmur, my breath frosting the air before her. "To think that the living can challenge the Night. How quaint."

Arya's eyes flash with fury, her cheeks flushing despite the biting chill. "I am not mad," she snaps, her teeth chattering. "I am the daughter of the dragon. I am the end of your reign of terror."

Her words are as futile as the snowflakes that dance around us, but there is something in her fiery gaze that resonates with the distant echoes of my own humanity. I lean closer, the cold emanating from my very being. "You wish to end me?" I taunt, my voice a chilling whisper that pierces through the howling wind. "Then why don't you pick up your dagger and fight?"