There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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Rhaenar stood beside Aegon as they huddled next to each other in the courtyard, his warmth seeking into her as her foot tapped against the cobblestones. She hadn't let him out of her sight since Bran had taken her to wherever he had, worry filling her too much at the thought of losing him that way. It pained her, made her heart ache in ways the boys didn't understand as she kept a soft hand to his forearms, eyes searching for his when they were alone. Rhaenar refused to risk them, she refused to let any harm come to any of them; Stark, Targaryen, or not. The people that surrounded her were family, and she intended to keep them alive.
But, in doing so, she also stood by Aegon as he did his duties to his men, leading them as a major commander within the Living side. It was their job to stand for the men, if they needed anything sanctioned, she would do it. "We need wooden posts down the stretches of land surrounding Winterfell, and when the time comes they'll be lit." Rhae explained to the men, keeping her tone soft. "That way, once we see the first pyres go out - we know they've arrived."
One of the Northern men shot her a look, jutting his chin. "Which areas in particular? There won't be enough timber to continue making the trench defences as well as the bows for the men, and keep Winterfell warm." Shit, she thought.
"How much timber do we have? Can we swap the logs used in rooms for coal?" The coals should hopefully take longer to burn, and not be as in demand as timber was.
He shook his head. "We might have enough coal if we ration, as for the timber there's only 3000 tonnes left." 3000 tonnes? That wasn't much at all, not if it was supposed to last them longer than a few nights.
"I'll speak with King Jon, see what he suggests." She told him. "But for now, do what you can. We need those pyres to detect the on coming battle - the last thing we need is to think we have time when we don't." They'd rely on Bran, but it wasn't certain. The Army of the Dead had at least 100,000 men, any chance to gain the upperhand against that many men was needed. Bran wouldn't be able to know if the Army had split into multiple parts, he'd only be able to see the Night King. The men nodded before dispersing, turning to leave through the courtyard archway.
Rhae turned to Aegon, shaking her head. "If we don't have enough wood, we're fucked." She muttered. "We might have to fly, and appeal to the Lords we know are joining our fight, and then somehow get it transported up here before the dead arrive."
"We won't have time, Rhae; from reports, the army is getting closer every day. It's at least a week's ride by horse between here and the Riverlands if you don't stop; and that's without any loads weighing them down." Her hand rested on her hairline, pushing back the pale strands. She didn't know what to do, how to help them. She couldn't agree to chopping wood in the surrounding areas of Winterfell in case it was a holy tree or such' the North worshiped the Old Gods.
