"The north hasn't seen a dragon in centuries. They turned to ice during the first true winter after the conquest."
"Foolish child, the last dragon of the north walks among us."
game of thrones
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
— AS the sun continued its ascent, bathing Silverpeak in a gentle morning warmth, a gathering of onlookers had formed in the courtyard. The news of Caelan's impending journey to Winterfell, leading a select group, had swiftly spread throughout the stronghold. The atmosphere buzzed with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.
Among the assembled party, Jorik Snow, his fiery red hair recently cropped short, stood firmly holding the reins of his horse. He also kept a watchful eye on a black mare bearing the deserter, ensuring the man remained secure in his restraints. Ser William, a sturdy figure atop his own horse, exuded an air of readiness.
Meanwhile, Martyn and Elays, the eager young recruit who had enthusiastically accepted the invitation to join the expedition to Winterfell, remained on foot for the moment. Their interactions with their families, as they bid farewell. Caelan observed their farewells for a moment before turning his attention to his own family members who had gathered.
Approaching him with an air of authority, his father, Lord Arion, cast a commanding shadow. Gareth, mirroring their father's stature but exuding a gentler demeanor, stood beside him. Mia, Gareth's wife, who was nearing the end of her pregnancy, offered a warm and supportive presence. Finally, on the other side of Lord Arion, stood Elira, her vibrant golden hair cascading freely over her shoulders, her eyes a reflection of both pride and concern for her elder brother's impending journey.
Amidst the gathering in the courtyard, Lord Arion's deep voice broke the calmness around them. "Caelan," he began, his tone tinged with pride, "you bear the honor and duty of House Valnor. Delivering the deserter to Winterfell is not merely a task, but an opportunity."
Caelan met his father's gaze, his own gaze mirrored the seriousness in his fathers. "I understand, Father," he replied. "I'll ensure that the deserter is delivered to Lord Stark promptly."
Gareth, his younger brother, offered a reassuring nod. "We have faith in you, Caelan," he added, his voice calm and supportive. "Perhaps more swiftly than this old Lord could." his tone changing to carry more amusement as he smirked to their father. Lord Arion fought a small smirk that was framed by a gray beard.
"Why else would I give him such a task?" he replied, his tone now light with amusement instead of holding such a commanding presence.
Mia stepped forward, a hand gently finding a place on her husbands arm, her other resting on her belly. "Please return safely, Caelan," she said, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Hopefully before the little one arrives."
"Perhaps also with news of an upcoming union." Elira chimed in, stepping forward and quickly closing the gap between herself and Caelan, pulling him into a hug. "Perhaps Lady Lyanna Stark will be more captivating than you think."
Caelan couldn't help but offer Elira a smile tinged with a bit of irritation.
He nodded at his family, dropping his arms from around Elira and decided to disregard her banter and found his fathers eyes again. "I'll do my best,"
