Dream Of Winter | C. Stark & H. Targaryen

Manifest Destiny

Helaena POV

The Dragon princess ventured into the mystical crypts of Winterfell with her fellow greenseers. Bran -she was determined to call the younger Stark sibling to avoid confusion- was atop the giant grey wolf Ivar. The two took a liking to each other. Bennard's familiar was left without a bonded for years. And Bran's Summer was killed defending the three-eyed crow. So their connection was opportune. Both for their sense of inner peace and because a special chair hasn't been yet made for Bran.

Brandon, heir to the Last Hearth, was also with them. Bran wanted only those with the gift to join him on this occasion.

The air grew colder as they descended deeper into the subterranean chambers. The flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.

The three of them moved cautiously, their footsteps echoing through the cold silence. He wasn't mistaken in claiming to feel a strange pull. As if an unseen force was guiding them further into the depths of the crypts. She knew there was something waiting for them. A hidden secret that needed to be unraveled.

As they reached a particularly ancient section of the crypts the Umber lordling spoke in a hushed voice, "Bran, are you certain about this? I've been down here dozens of times. I would've sensed anything ... unnatural."

With a distant and all-knowing gaze, her ghost replied "There is power here, cousin. Ancient magic that has been dormant for centuries. Just by being here, Helaena's amplifying its signal like she did for me. We must uncover its secrets."

The dreamer felt proud at being the source of such power. Many times she's resented her fate. The loneliness of her existence. But being with kindred spirits. It soothed the aches of her heart.

"I do sense a pull. A connection to the past. The blood of the First Men flows through our veins. And it may be the key to unlocking what lies ahead."

As they pressed forward, the shadows seemed to dance around them, whispering secrets in hushed voices.

Bran's eyes glowed with a peculiar intensity, his connection to the weirwood trees guiding him. He extended his hand and touched the cold, weathered stone behind a particular statue, a likeness of a long-deceased Stark ancestor.

She was certain they're had to be a reason why they were down here. Brandon the builder and his great-grandson the Breaker had battled the Others. They knew of the importance of cremating their dead. But it is the Targaryens who follow that practice. Despite seemingly having no contact with the lands beyond the Wall. The kings of Winter preserved their fallen in this macabre never-ending tomb.

The only question is why.

Suddenly, Bran produced a dagger from his cloak and made a cut to his hand. The blood spatters landed on the wall. A hidden mechanism was triggered, for the spot glowed in the dark.

The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow, dimly lit tunnel. The air buzzed with an otherworldly energy as if the passage itself was alive.

Brandon exchanged a wary glance with Helaena, but they steeled themselves and followed Bran and his wolf into the secret passageway. The tunnel wound its way through the depths of Winterfell, leading them deeper into the castle's hidden underbelly.

They must've traversed a long way. She won't be suprised if they crossed into the center of the earth. It was chilling cold that sprung forth. But she always ran a little too hot. Perks of being a dragon rider.

As they walked, the winged wolf spoke softly, his voice filled with a mix of anticipation and caution. "I saw this passage when I was with Bloodraven. It is said to have been created by the ancient Starks. A means of escape or concealment in times of great peril. But it has been lost to history, until now."