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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Rhae stood beside Harry and Missandei as she clasped both of their hands at the edge of the table, her brows furrowed as she looked over. The room was dark, casting a shadow on those around them as only a few candles remained lit, the fire their main source of light. They didn't have much time left, and this was the final council before they'd be expected to take to the battlefield - they couldn't change now, their mistakes would be made, and lives would be lost.
Her breathing was laboured, hidden by carefully concealed thought about breaths as her hands shook in her friends. So many men would face their deaths when these dead things arrived, the faces she could see over this table maybe not being there by the time the sun rose.
The indigo met midnight blue, Aegon's hardened face nodding as she nodded back. He stood beside Oberyn, Jon Connington to his other side. So many faces were all looking at this one map, from Lannisters to Starks to Targaryens; those who were once enemies, would now be fighting side by side. Her twin stood opposite, leading the meeting as he chanced a look at the Lords and Ladies around him. "We have dragonglass and Valyrian steel. But there are too many of them. Far too many."
His heavy voice carried across the room as the tension grew, gazes shifting to look at one another. "Our enemy doesn't tire. Doesn't stop. Doesn't feel. We can't beat them in a straight fight." Their eyes met.
"So, what can we do?" Varys questioned, his place beside Tyrion.
"The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls..." Jon hesitated, all eyes flickering up. That was their end goal, to stop the King. He turned them all, at his death, they should all fall. It was worrying, they didn't know what his strength was like, what he could do. With the flick of the wrist, he could potentially end all their lives for what they knew. A spike of fear struck her, her hand tightening around Missandei's as she glanced over. "Getting to him may be our best chance."
"If that's true, he'll never expose himself." Then they'd be fucked, they could fight his entire army and he'd be able to make more; whichever way he could do that...
Bran cleared his throat. "Yes, he will. He'll come for me." All bodies shifted, facing the young Stark. "He's tried before, many times, with many Three-Eyed Ravens."
"Why?" Samwell asked, just as confused as the rest of them. "What does he want?"
