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 was numb as she stood from her place, hesitating in the gateway of Winterfell as she glanced over at the dead. They stood there, staring at nothing as the fire separated themselves and what lay ahead. Why weren't they doing anything? Why were they just standing there? Her hand laid still upon Sake's shoulder, as though she could be a protector against those that stood within the walls of the castle.
Marcher Lords stood above her, the Dragon to the left, and the men that had travelled North behind her. Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips. Why had the trenches been lit so early? And who had lit them? The question sat heavy in her mind as her hand lifted, looking to Oberyn and Ser Barristan as she nodded her head. They needed to burn the dead, before the Night King could raise them or whatever it was he did to bring the Dead alive.
The boots crunched the snow and mud beneath them, her body moving her forward as she stood at the other end of the defences, just watching. It was odd for them to be standing there. It took a moment, before the first dead thing walked ahead, followed by a second and a third. All of them fell within the fire, their body dampening it slightly as it drowned the flames of their sustenance. What was this?
Rhaenar frowned, watching as more followed for the first line. "Your Grace, you need to get back." A voice called out to her, but she remained standing. In quick succession, more moved. It clicked.
They were sacrificing themselves for the others to cross, to be able to reach the living. And then she heard the echo. "Man the walls!" The North side were dealing with a similar issue, of the dead letting themselves drop to the fiery pykes. Rhaenar took a step back, her head cocking as she drew herself further behind into the safety of Winterfell.
Then it happened. The sacrificed bodies had made enough space for the dead to cross, their footsteps hurrying as they ran to the next bundle, flopping down upon it. A hand locked around her arm, tugging her back and into the gates, before the doors slammed shut; locking them inside.
Men hurried to raise themselves up onto the walls, on both the first set and the second as she crossed the moat with Oberyn by her side. "Get further into the heart of the castle!" He instructed, pushing her further in as his eyes widened.
She shook her head. "I'm not leaving you." She refused to abandon her men at a time like this.
"You're not trained in this, you need to be back on that dragon." He hissed, his words not harsh but imploring her to see sense.
