Chapitre 2413: 48
Chapter 48: Embers GlowNotes:
I'm sorry it's taken so long but I was actually getting my hopes up thinking I might reverse-write this to get to the end sooner. The good thing is that I have the last chapter finished and the last two almost done.
The bad thing is that the fucking long night is in the way. Like, I have a crater and I have to build a bridge to get to the other side.
Don't get me wrong, I love fics with a proper long night (I was wholeheartedly hoping to see that in the series as well), but sadly I'm not that author, so...we'll see.
Chapter Text
48.
Embers Glow
A beast crawled out from the depths of the ruins bathed in the glow of the moonlight. Its high-pitched screech resembled the sound of ice shattering into a million pieces.
The Night King mounted it.
It was the ice dragon.
Many millennia ago, the dragon had been laid to rest, its tomb sealed beneath the dutiful watch of stone guardians. However, the very magic that had once held it captive now compelled it to rise again.
Men, children, all would perish and the entire continent would be cleansed in a merciless purge.
***
Bran gasped for air. The sudden blow to his chest sent him panting. He seemed unable to breathe properly.
The flaps of his tent rustled violently, parting to reveal Meera Reed, wide-eyed, rushing to his side.
"What did you see? What did you see?" she asked in a rush, knowing that this could be the only answer to his reaction.
Bran stared back at her.
"Jon. Daenerys," he rasped.
***
Dany stared at the map spread out on the table of the war council tent, where a meeting was taking place. Her eyes were fixed on Winterfell. Bran had shared with them the bad news, and she couldn't help but think these turns were nothing but the results of the changes she precipitated.
"You couldn't have stopped him from getting his dragon, one way or another," Bran said deliberately, "I should have guessed something like that. But it's not easy to find what you don't know is that you're looking for..."
Dany thought of all the attempts at sending her back in time through her memories until they found the exact moment.
Jon frowned at them as if witnessing a conversation between strangers.
"It doesn't matter now. The Night King will not go down any further. He won't," Jon's voice was rough, the look in his eyes ice-cold. He rounded the table with an arm up to point out on the map, "The ground is our defense. His hoard increases with our losses. Killing a couple of dozens of our soldiers will be enough to keep them moving forward. This war is against him and him alone. Dany and I will fight him in the sky. The Realm's soldiers must provide a barrier and defend the further transgression into the Realm."
Dany said nothing as she listened to him give commands and exchange words about battle plans with the rest of their council, meeting his gaze from time to time as he silently asked for her approval.
She also met Jorah's gaze.
Dany felt the urge to send him away. Were it not that he was harder to convince and persuade, she would long ago have overpowered his will to protect him from what Dany now believed was impossible to avoid.
"The Night King's destiny is set in stone," Jon reassured as they made their way back to the tent they shared.
"Perhaps everything is set in stone."
The thought made it difficult to breathe.
Jon halted his steps.
"You can't believe that."
She stood still and quiet; the sick foreboding clinging to her gut.
Jon walked slowly over to her until he stood in front of her and placed a hand on her cheek.
"You are no pawn, Dany. Neither I. We will do what we always do. We will fight."
Dany returned the gesture even though she was still plagued by the despondency of realizing once again that she was in the middle of a dangerous game that demanded that every move entailed a painful sacrifice to be paid.
***
Jaime felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his healing wounds. Here all the united armies of the Seven Kingdoms were arrayed, under one rule.
That of the Targaryen Queen and her bastard King.
Surely Jaime Lannister would not have imagined such a thing when he pierced her father's neck over two decades ago. And more than certain he didn't think that with Cersei on the throne, these banners would have been raised for her.
"I've never seen so many banners flying in the air and not a quarrel in the middle," Brienne made a comment as she rode beside him.
They'd ridden long hours to get there, in some of the ugliest and most difficult terrain to travel in all the Seven Kingdoms.
Her amazed expression also prompted his own and Jaime nodded. But his thoughts were elsewhere, in how much he was despised equally by all who waited there.
What did he have to gain her by riding alongside her? Brienne would arrive as a war hero, her honors only to be overshadowed by his tainted presence.
Jaime would have none of that.
"Commander," Jaime for the first time addressed her as such. "With your permission, I will meet you at sundown."
Her horse stamped its hooves on the ground.
"Do you need my permission now, Jaime Lannister?" she joked and laughed.
It was a rare but lovely sight.
***
Tyrion gazed over the procession led by Brienne of Tarth with waning hope to see Jaime riding with them but traces of his brother were not to be found among them. Brienne and her men were welcomed by Daenerys and Jon Snow — the King and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
An anxious feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Once upon a time, he would have been there, in the center of all the turmoil, next to the Queen. He was important then, a well-regarded person.
But he'd lost it all and Tyrion still wondered what truly transpired that he had stooped so low in the Queen's favor.
"I thought you'd be dead," Jaime voice came unexpectedly, making Tyrion startle out.
He turned around and saw his brother standing a small distance away, just as hiding in the shadows as himself was.
Tyrion was torn between surprise and dismay.
"Shouldn't you be with Brienne's men?"
Jaime lowered his eyes.
"Your friend the squire didn't make it. I'm sorry, Tyrion," Jaime announced.
Oh poor Podrick Payne, hardly a made man, Tyrion thought.
"It's always the good guys," he said, walking over to his brother.
After exchanging recounts of their misadventures, the brothers settled into a place of their own.
"Most of the people here have good reason to want to see us dead and by their own hand..." Tyrion commented, bitterness coated his every word.
Jaime did not question this.
"I have to get one of them to knight Brienne before this battle takes place," Jaime asserted.
Tyrion cocked his head to one side.
"You understand that there is no one more deserving..." started Jaime but Tyrion cut him off.
"I do not question that Lady Brienne is worthy of such reward, but aside from the obvious impediment of her being a woman," Tyrion scratched an eyelid, "I am taken aback by this great concern on your part for her welfare. The extent of these affections...have long taken root?"
Jaime looked at him with a startled look.
"Or are you going to resort to hiding your true feelings behind honor and righteousness like you've hidden honor behind the smug jerk all these years?"
Jaime shrugged, "What does it matter now? We're finished, you and me. And I can't make promises to Brienne, not the kind I'd like to...But I can give her this. We can. You and me. One last good deed before House Lannister is gone, for good."
***
Daenerys stood beside Jon as he spoke to Brienne of Tarth and the men she had led in battle, congratulating them on their courage at the battle of Winterfell and thanking them for their service.
Gradually the other lords and soldiers approached, and Jon glanced at her, knowing that this would be their chance to address the realm as a whole for the first time.
She nudged him on and encouraged him with a smile.
"In fact, I shall thank all of you, my Lords, my Ladies... to all of you who are here. I have known a time when the kingdom dwelt on petty disputes and ignored the real enemy rising in the North. A terrible time indeed, in which we almost lost us all," he said and his gaze seemed afar, maybe in the memory of it. "The approaching battle it's an event that has compelled great warriors of the past. Starting with Aegon the Conqueror."
Dany shuddered.
"Our lessons taught us that when Aegon looked west to a land in chaos he saw good to unite seven kingdoms under a single rule: that of his own. What those lessons do not tell us is that Aegon first had a dream. A warning that the darkness beyond the wall would plunge the world back into a long night.
"In his dream Aegon foresaw the realm unite under the command of one of his descendants: a king or queen who would be the one who was promised," Jon turned around and smiled slightly at her, as Dany stood there, straightened up and dismayed at each word. "Daenerys Targaryen, my wife and my queen, was the one who put aside her own interests to face this threat. Then and now." Implicit understanding passed between them. "Aegon's prophecy has been fulfilled with her."
He came back to address their army.
"But you'll play a role too, each one of you. For your children, and for the future of your children's children, we will fight the Night King and his army to return him to the darkness where he belongs."
***
She looked at Jon with a smile as he was surrounded by people and celebrated. Dany felt as if something within her had eased. Hard as she tried not to linger in the past, she always found her way back but this time there was a sense of completion, she did not find herself stuck on bitter memories but instead she cherished the present and let go of the past.
It last as long as it was good, for she found herself in the company of her old advisor soon.
"Our King will make a well-beloved ruler," came Tyrion's voice. "That Aegon's dream bit last-minute addition was a much-needed morale boost."
Dany tightened her lips in a line.
"I'd given you up for dead, Tyrion," she pitched.
"The weed never perishes," he replied, "Or rather, it always comes back."
"Shall I burn it away?"
"It isn't a good conversation with you unless I make you mad and you threat me with fire, it feels like the good old times?"
Dany narrowed eyes on him. "Tyrion. I don't want to play games with you."
"I want to know then. When did you lose hope in me?"
Dany bristled mirthlessly. "Perhaps it isn't about hope at all, but knowing that it isn't enough. You were not enough, Tyrion."
His dissatisfied expression grew sour and he looked past her.
"Surely you've found someone who fits the role better," he said, and they both fixed their eyes on Jon, who looked back at them sharply.
Tyrion cleared his throat. "Your Grace, I thank you nonetheless. And if I am allowed, and excused because I know I shouldn't he asked any of you..."
Dany's eyebrow shot up.
"I'd like to put forward Lady Brienne's knightship for your consideration."
She tilted her head in confusion.
"Brienne? Can a woman...?"
"Just think how well it will look in the history books when they read of the year of the first Targaryen Queen of Westeros and the first Lady Knight," he prompted before she could protest.
***
Jon stood outside Ser Jorah's tent for long minutes just staring at it. When he stepped inside, he quickly identified the sound of whetstone kissing rough-hewn metal. The bear knight looked up scowling before returning to it.
"Your Grace," he lowly greeted him, uncaring of hiding the unpleasantness.
There had existed mutual respect between the two once, Jon completely overlooking his crimes for which he had been exiled. Instead, he'd chosen to see him as his father's son.
His crimes couldn't matter anymore but for some reason, at perceiving that look of warning and ever wariness, Jon would have wanted to ask him with which right he sought to judge him?
By being Dany's protector, Jon thought immediately and not for the first time.
For Jorah it was no different in the sense that Jon had gone from being the righteous and honorable man, in his memory, to the threat he saw him for now. To think that once he was almost relieved to know Khaleesi would be guarded by the likes of him...
"That sword is not Valyrian steel. It will not stand against the dead," Jon pointed out.
"It will serve to keep Her Grace out of harm's way—"
And perhaps it had been enough, Jon thought, playing in his mind moments from his time in Essos, of which he had only heard. But this was different.
"You might do better with her then," Jon said.
Then he unveiled the object he'd brought with him: the ancestral sword of House Tarly. Jon extended it to Ser Jorah, who stood in awe at the sight of it.
"To put an end to anything that stands between life and her, do your duty, Ser Jorah," Jon stated.
***
When night fell Jaime gathered courage to walk into the sprawling encampment, knowing that regardless of the outraged looks and open hatred, what was about to happen was worth the pain that came with it.
As he trudged across the camp, he felt awaken inside him what had long since ceased: contentment.
Jaime found Brienne in a circle of his men, standing in guard with her eyes straight ahead. Like this, she seemed lost in some recondite thought. Clad in her suit of armor, and the Valyrian steel sword Oathkeeper resting at her side, she looked every bit the warrior she was.
Brienne was perhaps the first and only woman Jaime has ever admired, now he realized.
Jaime came to stand next to her. Brienne looked at him for a moment with quizzical eyes.
"Since when does the lion hide?" she asked in dismay.
Jaime couldn't hold back a snort, looking at her. "Ever since he got bland and old..."
An easy laugh erupted from her chest.
"I don't think you, Jaime Lannister, have ever gotten bland. Although old man, perhaps you are."
The murmurs around him grew louder and then died altogether. Brienne looked behind him, and Jaime turned to see Jon Snow, now as King, and his Dragon Queen coming toward them.
Jaime took a step back, aware of his place on this whole affair.
"Lady Brienne," the Dragon Queen called out to her loud and clear, addressing her in that voice of authority she had for her subjects. "My husband, the King, and I have recognized and celebrated your deeds and your service during this war and the previous endeavors that have been entrusted to you. Notwithstanding this, we believe that the realm is still greatly indebted to you."
"Your Graces, my King and Queen," Brienne responded and addressed them as such for the first time. A silent pledge of fealty. "I do not feel that anything is owed to me as I fulfill my duty and my reward is to honor the realm with my service."
"Still, Lady Brienne," Daenerys crossed her husband a complicit glance, "Your feats cannot pass unobserved."
Jon Snow drew his sword, and commanded, "Kneel, Lady Brienne."
Though at first befuddled, Brienne did as she was commanded. Those present surrounded the scene expectantly, their gazes fixed on the gleam of the Valyrian sword raised by Jon Snow.
Jaime's stomach turned.
With the nimble swing of a seasoned warrior, his sword touched Brienne's left shoulder, "Let your courage be standard of your worth, let your honor fly always high and proud," he rose it again to rest the sword in Brienne's right shoulder, "I, Jon Snow, King of the Seven Kingdoms, in accordance with my wife and Queen, Daenerys of House Targaryen, bestow upon you, Lady Brienne of Tarth, the duty to protect and the order to defend, for you are now Ser Brienne, knight of the Seven Kingdoms, from this day until the end of your days."
Jon sheathed his sword and took a step back, letting the Queen proclaim, loud and clear, "Rise now, Ser Brienne, knight of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the Realm!"
Applause and cheers then broke out throughout the camp.
Brienne bowed once more to her King and Queen, and rose with a face streaked with tears and a smile that shone brighter than the moon and stars.
***
Jon found Dany getting ready in war clothes and his heart got sick with worry. Was there no way to convince her to run away and protect herself? Jon chastised himself for thinking that a woman who had grown up and lived amidst war would turn her back on it just now, on his whim.
He came to love her as the warrior queen she's always been but right now he couldn't dissipate images of harm done to her.
Dany turned around and asked him for help to fasten her vambraces.
"Ser Brienne wears proper armor," she said softly.
"Ser Brienne's place is on the battlefield," Jon replied, securing the ties. Dany held up her other arm, and Jon paused in thought. "Is your wound healed enough?"
Guilt and shame together pierced his heart, but Dany made no move to refuse his touch, instead she just wrung her fingers.
"I've had—" but she shut up suddenly, swallowing, then she started again, "It's not my first battle. I don't think it will be my last."
Jon began to tie the one in her left arm as her hand rested above his chest. His mind retaining the words and pondering their meaning. Was she talking about this or was she contemplating at the years that would follow?
"This..." Dany spoke suddenly, bearing him a hopeful, tender look, "We will survive this. We've done it before."
He completed his task and took her hand, kissing it. Daenerys brought their faces close together and closed her eyes, as he wondered where her thoughts have wandered off.
The two lay on the furs facing each other, landing caresses here and there in silence. She was tracing the features of his face with a finger when she asked, "Have I told you that my dreams do come true?"
Jon tucked a loose strand of silver-blonde hair behind her ear.
"I know," he just said.
"Would you let me tell you one of my dreams while you close your eyes?" she wondered in a whisper.
Jon obliged. He closed his eyes and let moments pass as he felt her breath, the closeness of her body heat to his even through the heavy clothes between them. She was regarding him, not just looking at him. He felt the love there, more physical than ever.
"I have seen a spring landscape, a sun yawning over a shimmering beach and a fire growing over the falling shadow." Her lips moved gently over the skin of his cheek as she whispered. "People stand on the shore, their bare feet leaving marks in the wet white sand. Their voices are light and carefree, carrying the joy of a fresh windy evening. And there is also the laughter of children bursting out thunderously as they splash against the gentle waves coming in on the current."
Her eyes were glazed over with tears.
Jon tried in his mind to push away the darkness to form the images she was describing, but all he could see was Daenerys.
"Above the flames I can see a smile, a real smile. One that reflects a heart that is alive and joyful." She couldn't continue without breaking her voice, so she raised her mouth over his ear, "Can you see it too, Jon? Can you see that there is a life after death?"
Jon's eyes widened.
The sound of three horn blasts broke out.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone