Face The Darkness | GoT x Night King Reader

Chapter 17

With a final, deliberate motion, she placed the crown upon her head, the warmth of her humanity melding with the coldness of the throne's legacy. The room echoed with the clink of metal, the sound a declaration that reverberated through the hearts of the living and the dead alike. The warmth of her spirit, now entwined with the coldness of power, was a beacon that pierced the gloom of the room.

I stood back, watching the transformation unfold. The crown, once a symbol of tyranny and despair, now sat upon the head of a girl whose warmth had brought fire to the coldness of the undead. "Long live the Queen," I murmured, the words a cold acknowledgment of the shift in power.

"Thank you," she replied, the warmth of her voice carrying a hint of irony. "But I don't think I'll be needing this." With a swift motion, she tossed the crown aside, the metal ringing out as it clattered to the stone floor. The warmth of surprise and hope flickered through the room.

"Your reign ends now," she declared, her voice a fiery blaze that seemed to warm the very air. "I didn't come here to rule over the dead, but to end their suffering and your tyranny." The warmth of her words resonated through the chamber, igniting a spark in the cold hearts of the undead. "I don't need a crown to end your reign of terror."

Her statement hung in the air, the warmth of her conviction battling the coldness that had once dominated the room. The Night King felt a tremor of doubt, something he had not experienced since he had first raised the dead. "You wish to end the cycle of life and death?" he questioned, his voice a chilling whisper. "To bring peace to Westeros?"

Arya's gaze was unwavering, the warmth of her determination burning brighter with every passing second. "Not just for Westeros," she said with a fiery resolve, "but for the world. To bring balance where there is only chaos, to show that not all Targaryens seek power, but rather, peace and justice. The Dead deserve to rest, they fought for long enough."

The room grew colder as the implication of her words settled. The undead warriors around us began to stir, their cold eyes flickering with a warmth that had been lost to them for centuries. One by one, they took a step forward, their movements slow and deliberate, breaking the rigid formations that had once defined their existence. They turned from my side, their cold gaze now fixed on Arya, the warmth of their newfound hope shining through the icy chains that had bound them to me.

The warmth of their shift in allegiance was a gentle thaw, a whisper of life in the heart of winter. Their steps echoed through the chamber, a symphony of change that grew louder with each passing second. The air grew thick with the anticipation of a new world order, one where the living and the dead could coexist without the constant threat of annihilation.

The living forces outside the castle walls watched as the dead within the gates turned from their silent vigil to face the throne. The warmth of confusion was palpable, their warm breaths creating clouds of mist in the frigid air. The coldness of doubt slowly melted away as they realized that the girl they had feared was now their salvation.