ā all the fear and the fire of the end of the world ā
( multiple x fem!oc)
(mature themes!)
(doesn't really follow the HBO show
or the books, but has elements)
...
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" I am not the only traveler Who has not repaid his debt I've been searching for a trail to follow again Take me back to the night we met "
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MEGARA STRUGGLED TO REMEMBER a time when trousers had graced her legs. Throughout her life, her wardrobe had consisted merely of three dresses—each one a mismatch to her frame, either hanging loose like the sails of a ship or clinging desperately, much like the skin of a fruit far too ripe. It was a curious reflection of life's constant ebb and flow, the manner in which the human body transforms, stretches, and contracts, just as swiftly as a child blossoms from infancy to youth.
Now, seated across from a timeworn vanity, her gaze met the mirror's cool, impartial stare. Reflected back was a figure she scarcely recognized, swathed in a tunic and cloak that draped her form in unfamiliar angles and shadows. If mud were to streak her cheeks and her locks trimmed to an unkempt, boyish mane, she could easily mistake herself for a lad—no, not even one on the cusp of manhood, but a mere boy, green and untested by the world's harsh realities. The thought of such vulnerability gnawed at her.
Indeed, she acknowledged the weakness that clung to her like a second skin, neither defined by gender nor denied by it. But resignation was a luxury Megara could not afford, not here, not in the shadow of the Wall where every moment was a silent battle for survival and every breath a defiance of the odds. Her reflection might show a figure unseasoned and unready, yet within her, the resolve to forge herself anew—to craft from the raw, unshaped ore of her being a weapon tempered by will and necessity—burned brighter than the hearth fires of Castle Black.
She did not plan on remaining this unsculpted figure the mirror currently held captive. No, Megara would not allow it. She would grow, adapt, and emerge not merely stronger, but formidable. A force that neither friend nor foe could easily overlook or dismiss.
Megara shrugged off the black fur coat, its weight heavy on her shoulders, and let it fall carelessly onto the bed. The coat, a barrier against the chill that seeped endlessly from the icy walls of Castle Black, was unnecessary now. She was warmed by a different kind of fire, one that blazed from within, promising that ice would yield to flame in due course.
