[Contains GoT spoilers! This series follows Seasons 2 through 8 of Game of Thrones.] Rhaena Velaryon is the daughter of the late Lord of the Tides, Trysten Velaryon, and of the former Princess of House Targaryen, Visaerya Velaryon. Living on the isl...
The former princess only planned on staying these few days and wanted to leave on the morrow. Daemon insisted she stay despite what his sister said, and she appreciated it. She did avoid having to speak at all with her daughter, but now Visaerya is being called to a meeting. The bastard had spoke about having to tell them about... something. The time has come, it seems. She meets her son to the location the bastard told them - the Winterfell library. Several, several other people are already there, Rhaena being among one of them as she stands beside her husband. She looks pained and looks up at her mother, not with hate, but with worry.
"Why have we been called here?" Visaerya asks in an annoyed tone. An extremely large painted map of Winterfell and the surrounding area is at the center of everyone gathered. Many of them gaze at it with terrified eyes. Surrounding Winterfell are black tokens, one Arryn, one Stark, several Targaryen, along with several unmarked ones. At the very top, icy blue tokens take up nearly a fourth of the entire map. Does it mean winter? Visaerya wonders sarcastically. Do they mean to fight the coming snows?
Daemon goes to stand beside Rhaena, who looks up at him with scared eyes. He scans the map, trying to understand as well, but cannot. "The blue tiles," Jon begins. "represent the enemy."
"The harmless snowstorms?" Visaerya scoffs, earning a quick glare from her niece.
"Hold your tongue." Daenerys warns her.
Jon sighs. "There is a force coming to Winterfell as we speak. A force you may have only heard about in bed time stories told by your wet-nurse." He stares down at the table. "Our enemy doesn't stop, doesn't tire, doesn't feel. It is death itself, and it comes for us all." Visaerya raises an eyebrow as Daemon's eyes widen. He's always been the skeptical one. This must be a ploy to get them to leave, isn't it? The White Walkers are all gone. "We've seen them all." Jon looks at Rhaena, who nods.
"Their leader can raise every corpse around him with just a lift of his finger. With that, they are under his command. Mindless. They do his bidding, and there are nearly a hundred thousand of them." She states. Her brother's mouth drops slightly as he looks down at the blue tiles once more.
"Death?" He inquires quietly.
"The Night King leads them. He created them. They follow his command." Jon points at the tiles. "If we destroy him, we destroy them all. Getting to him will be our best chance to take out the Army of the Dead."
"If that's true, he'll never expose himself." The Kingslayer chimes in.
From the back of the room in his wheelchair, Brandon Stark speaks up. "Yes he will." Everyone turns to look at him. "He'll come for me." He says in a bland voice. "He's tried before. Many times with many three-eyed ravens."
"Three eyed-raven?" Visaerya wonders out loud, but goes ignored like it's the most normal thing in the world.
"He wants an endless night. He wants to erase this world. To erase it's memory. I am this world's memory."
"That's what death is, isn't it?" The fat one in black leathers says. "Forgetting. Being forgotten. If we forget what we've done, where we've been, we're not men anymore. Just animals. Your memories don't come from books. Your stories aren't just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I'd start with you." He tells Brandon sadly.
"How will he find you?" The Imp asks.
"He's marked me." The crippled boy lifts up his furred sleeve to reveal a harsh red mark on his arm. It looks as if someone grabbed hold of his wrist, tight enough to leave a mark. It looks also like claws did so to him. Visaerya stares at the boy's wrist, some reality finally breaking the walls of her closed mind. If it is true, then something must be done, she supposes. When she breaks her gaze, she sees Rhaena eyeing her, like she knows her mother is beginning to believe. Visaerya stares back, though still keeping her cool demeanor.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"We'll put you in the crypt where it's safest-" Jon suggests.
"No. We need to lure him in to the open before his army destroys us. I'll wait for him in the Godswood."
"You want us to use you as bait?" Sansa protests. "We won't leave you alone in the open."
"He won't be." The Greyjoy boy speaks up. "I'll stay with him, with the Ironborn." He hesitantly raises his head, meek, and looks at Brandon. "I took this castle from you. Let me defend you now." The crippled boy nods.
"Whatever you need is yours, my Lord." Daemon addresses Jon. "What guards the Celtigars and I have brought are at your disposal. I will fight for you, this castle, and the living." When the bastard glances warily at him, Rhaena lightly touches his wrist. Jon inhales deeply.
"You will be with your sister, here." He points at the Stark token, backed by several other black ones. "Take any guards you have and join them." His command is met with Daemon's confident nod.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I take it my mother will be in the crypt as well?" He looks at Visaerya and Jon nods.
"Any of those too young, old, or incapable of fighting will be joining her. They are the safest place, I assure you." She silently huffs, feeling some fear creep across her body. She stifles a shake that comes over her by standing up straight and looking at Jon. She would prefer to stay as far away from those dark, damp crypts as possible, but it seems she has no choice. As long as she does not see a dead man's face.
"Well, how long do I have to prepare for the dark underground tomb?"
The bastard looks directly in to her eyes, his face pale and his fear openly seen. "They'll be here before the sun rises." He swallows hard. "Get some rest."
