"What exactly are we facing?"
It was the King who asked that question.
I took a deep breath, and looked for the right words to accurately convey how fucked the situation was.
"What you are dealing with… is a monster made of ice and magic. it can control every single speck of ice in its surroundings with a mere thought."
The room seemed to grow colder for some reason.
"It has been lying in wait and growing stronger since the age of the last hero. Every living thing that dies beyond the Wall—man, woman, animal— eventually rises again to join its army. They don't sleep. They don't eat. They don't comprehend pain."
The uneasy silence held for a moment longer before Robert asked "How many?"
"Hundreds of thousands. Maybe more. They've been gathering for centuries."
I crossed my arms. "So… anyone still eager for adventure?"
The mix of confusion and fear on everyone's faces would have been funny in any other situation.
Ned was the one to break the silence this time. "Tell them what happened when you first saw them."
I sighed.
"Well, a horde of a few thousand wights descended on us, but I was able to give the band of misfits with me the tools needed to fight them off, a bit slowly for my tastes, but it was a good start…"
"Just when everything seemed to be going according to plan, the temperature began to plummet. In the distance, a blizzard formed—too fast to be anything natural, as if the sky itself had taken offence to our presence."
A few men shifted nervously in their seats.
"Before I could react—before I even understood what was happening—a spear of cursed ice slammed into my chest, missing my heart by a hair's width."
"It was nothing but dumb luck that I'm still alive."
The King leaned forward, frowning. "I hear what you're saying, and I know that you can understand why we are having a hard time believing what you are saying… So why are you telling us we shouldn't check ourselves?"
"Oh, by all means, send someone," I said. "Just don't go yourself and get killed. Send a small group—men you trust, men you can afford to lose. At least if they don't come back, you won't be leaving your sons in charge of dealing with the end of the world."
Robert exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his beard. "That does sound horrible for everyone involved," he said at last.
"Very well then, if my men come back having witnessed the others, then we start preparing for war."
"Thats all I ask. You're going to need to start gathering dragonglass as well—it's the most accessible weapon to use against the wights. You can't forge it into swords, it's too brittle, but daggers will do."
From the other side of the chamber, I heard an infuriating voice, "And what will you be doing oh great mage, while the Seven Kingdoms prepare to fight a fictional army?"
I turned to look at him with a smile that showed exactly how much I appreciated his sarcasm. "Don't sass me, Lannister."
"I've already done more than anything you will ever do. If not for me, most of you would still be too busy killing each other while the Night King tears through the Wall and plunges the world into darkness."
I let my smile fade. "But if you must know, I'll be busy finding a way to kill that frozen bastard for good. So unless you have something useful to say, shut your mouth—I'm talking to your king."
A few people struggled to hide their laughter, despite the situation. Robert didn't bother—he let out a bark of laughter and shook his head.
"Yes, Kingslayer," he said, still chuckling. "The adults are talking."
Jaime looked furious, about to open his mouth—until Tyrion stepped on his foot, stopping whatever stupid retort was coming next.
"One more thing," I said, turning to the rest of the people in the room. "Let the wildlings through the Wall. Keep an eye on them, sure—but don't leave them out there to die. If they do, you're just handing the Night King more soldiers."
Umber's jaw tightened. "Are you daft? You want us to invite the wildlings?"
I rolled my eyes. "I'm not telling you to invite them into your bed. I'm saying move them somewhere they can help fight for the living."
Karstark spat. "They'll turn on us the moment we blink."
"Then don't work with them," I snapped. "Stick them on an island if it helps you sleep. I hear Skagos is lovely this time of year."
That set off the shouting. Voices rose—angry, overlapping, useless.
I sighed in disappointment. "Do whatever you want. I'm not your king or your lord—nor do I have any desire to be. I've given all of you more warning than most would. If you insist on making stupid decisions after this, that's on you."
And with that said, I walked out, leaving their noise behind me.
I had more important things to deal with.
----------------
The doors slammed shut behind the mage.
The room erupted—voices clashing, chairs scraping, outrage building like a storm.
Robert slammed both hands on the table, hard enough to rattle goblets and silence everyone.
"ENOUGH!"
He glared around the chamber, daring anyone to keep speaking. No one did.
He looked across the table at Ned. "You were right," he growled. "He does look startled."
"I've seen him—whistling while walking through the Red Keep, without a care in the world"
He jerked a thumb toward where Barristan stood along the wall.
"I asked Barristan if he'd noticed. You know what he said? He said the bastard walks like he's above everyone else's problems. Like he's just waiting to see how things fall apart and laugh."
Robert's voice dropped.
"Well he's not whistling right now. Whatever the hell happened beyond that Wall—it scared him."
"And if he's scared… then the rest of us shout be shitting ourselves."
He turned his gaze back to Ned.
"Start the damn preparations. Pick your most trustworthy men to scout, I will send some of mine as well"
Ned gave a grim nod. "What should we tell the people?"
Robert snorted, shaking his head.
"Nothing. Not yet. They'll figure it out soon enough—if they haven't already."
----------------
Cersei slipped out of the castle with surprising ease. The northern chill bit at her skin as she pulled her cloak tight, leaving only her eyes visible beneath the hood.
She hated what she'd been reduced to—slinking through the shadows like some mistress. But she had no choice. She couldn't afford to be recognized. Not now.
Every step on the cobblestones sounded louder than it had any right to be, each one threatening to draw eyes, questions, whispers.
After what felt like an eternity, she reached her destination.
The clinic was unmistakable. And there, lying in front of it like some ancient guardian, was the direwolf. She remembered it from King's Landing—but it had grown. Somehow, impossibly, it was even larger now.
She took one cautious step closer.
Her heart stopped as one of the beast's eyes slid open and stared directly into her soul.
She froze.
A flicker of recognition passed across its features—then disinterest. The wolf gave a lazy grunt, shut its eyes again, and resumed its sleep.
Only then did she remember to breathe.
She took a moment, forcing her racing heart to settle, then stepped forward toward the clinic door.
A small bell rang as she gently pushed the door open. Thankfully, the room seemed quiet—save for a woman seated at a desk, scribbling something down. She looked up at the sound of the bell.
"Oh! Hello," the girl said, pleasantly. "Is this an emergency? Can I help you?"
"I need to see the mage," she replied, firm, keeping her hood low and voice steady.
The girl blinked. "Oh—El's at the castle right now. If you're hurt, I might be able to help. I'm his apprentice—"
That's when recognition struck.
This was her.
The lowborn girl. The one the rumors whispered about. Not just the mage's apprentice—something more.
An ugly feeling bloomed in her chest. She couldn't name it. Jealousy? Rage? Disgust? Something sharp and sour that twisted in her gut.
She tucked a loose strand of hair beneath her hood and forced her voice into something colder. "No, thank you. I'll wait."
"Oh… okay." The girl smiled, still trying. "If it's something medical, could you tell me your symptoms? That way El can help you faster when he gets here—"
Before she could snap back at the ignorant girl and put her in her place—
The door behind her swung open.
She didn't need to turn. She felt it. The shift in the air. The sudden weight of his presence.
Her throat tightened.
There he was. Just as he appeared in her nightmares—tall, dark-haired, smiling that maddening, too-familiar smile that made her blood run both cold and hot at once.
"Hi, honey," he called in that annoyingly cheerful voice. "I'm home."
Her knees nearly buckled.
She might've taken some satisfaction in the way his smile faltered—surprise flickering across his face as he recognised her. But the fear inside her was louder.
"Oh, bugger," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I knew I was forgetting something important."
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A/N: Still getting back into the habit of writing, so might be a bit irregular with the updates. It takes me an average of 5 hours completely locked in to write a chapter, but I only seem to be able to lock in for an hour per day. It's bad, I know.
My goal is to be able to write a chapter every three days at least. I am open to any advice you guys might have on how to achieve that.