Posts by Plutonian-Raven

The water lapped at the sides of the ship, thankfully calm. Jon stood at the railing, looking out towards Dragonstone. It was steadily growing closer. Soon, they'd take a smaller boat out to shore. Where Jon figured they'd be met by Daenerys Targaryen's men. Is this a good idea? Not the first time he had asked himself that question. But, he stubbornly pushed the question to the back of his mind. His bannermen were against this idea, but Dragonstone sat on a mountain of dragonglass. Dragonglass they would need if they were to properly face the White Walkers and their army.

Jon had seen them more than he cared to. They were the enemy Westeros should be most worried about. But, the majority of people believed them to be children's tales. They were very real though. And they were a very real threat to Westeros and every person in it. They had to do this. There was no other way; they needed to mine the dragonglass, and they needed an ally. He, his bannermen, and the remaining wildlings just wouldn't be enough.

"Your Grace," a familiar voice addressing him caused Jon to turn. It was Ser Davos Seaworth. "It is time we board the boat." Jon nodded before looking back to those joining him in Dragonstone. Besides Ser Davos, his old friend Lyah Forrester. She was one of his most trusted confidants, and he also valued her diplomatic skills as well. He wanted her help in this. Joining them would also be the wildling woman, Freya. She would offer testimony on the things she had seen beyond the wall. Jon then glanced towards the shore. He could see the shapes of people waiting there for them.

"Come everyone," Jon said, beckoning for his party to follow him, "Let's not make them wait too long." The sooner they got this started, the better. Silently, he boarded the small row boat that would take them to shore. Once everyone was safely in the small vessel, he gestured for it to be lowered. As the boat touched the water, Jon wondered about Daenerys' dragons. According to Tyrion's letter there were three of them. While Jon didn't think Tyrion would lie about this, but it was still amazing to try and imagine. Still...Jon had seen the the White Walkers and their army of the dead, so dragons wouldn't be the first supposed myth he had seen. And if they had dragon's on their side, then they'd have yet another weapon to use against the White Walker's army.

As they made their way to shore, Jon prayed that this worked. They needed this to work. If it didn't work...Well, they'd cross that bridge if they got to it.

All was so new to Freya. The salty sea air around them was warmer than any climate she was accustomed to. She had spent the majority of the trip watching the sea and their landscapes they passed, all while asking her traveling companions the occasional question. Even though this mission of theirs was of the utmost importance, Freya couldn’t help her curiosity.

Freya had only ever head of this Queen Daenerys Targaryen recently, and Freya hoped she’d listen to Jon. The White Walkers were real, and they had an army. Freya had seen the wights with her own eyes, more than once. She had seen what they could do to a person. Her clan had feared them, and for good reason. They were fast creatures and difficult to kill. Even one was no light matter. The free folk burned their dead to prevent them from becoming a wight.

Looking out over the water, just staring at Dragonstone, she barely heard Ser Davos speaking to Jon. This wasn’t the first castle Freya had seen since coming south of the Wall, but they always managed to impress her. Their towers seemed to brush the sky. Hearing Jon speak, Freya blinked and turned to the man. Time to go. Nodding to Jon, she followed him and the others to the boat. As a Free Folk woman, Freya didn’t just follow anyone. Respect was something that was earned in her eyes. And Jon had earned hers, as well the respect of many of her people. He had saved so many of the Free Folk. Regardless of what the other crows had told him, Jon had helped them. And, she liked her traveling companions. They all seemed like good,decent folk.

Once their small rowing boat had been lowered into the water, Freya looked around again. She heard a seagull cry somewhere nearby. As they rowed towards shore, the occasional splash of water hit her skin. The water was cool, but not freezing cold like the water up north. Freya couldn’t help but think it felt comfortable, nice. Water in the far north felt bitingly cold, and if one didn't get dry soon,exposure would soon take them.

As they neared shore, Freya looked ahead. She could see an assortment of people standing there, waiting for them. Freya assumed they were Daenerys Targaryen’s men. Let's hope this works, the brow-haired woman thought when it was time for them to leave the boat.

Upon hearing Lyah’s sudden remark, Jon couldn’t help but smile despite his tension. “Very true,” he remarked, amusement apparent in his tone, “I don’t particularly like the idea of being a dragon’s dinner. Let’s hope she has an even temper.” Unbidden, the thought of what had happened to his grandfather and uncle Brandon flickered across his mind. When he had announced his plan to meet with Daenerys to his sister and his bannermen, he had been reminded of what the Mad King had done to his kin when they had gone to meet with him in King’s Landing. Jon pushed the thought back, not wanting to dwell on it. It wouldn't help him any; it's only add to his tension. This meeting had to happen if they wanted to have a better chance of beating the White Walkers and their army.

Besides, even if he wanted to turn back it was too late to do so. So, he hoped Daenerys Targaryen wasn't a very temperamental person. When the boat was only a few feet away from the sandy shore, Jon stepped out of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Davos following suit and assumed everyone else was as well. As the rowers pulled the boat to shore, Jon walked towards the crowd that awaited them. The majority of them were armed soldiers, not that it surprised Jon. And most of them were unfamiliar to him. Except one.

Tyrion Lannister. He looked different now. There was a scar across his features, his curly blonde hair was longer now, and he had grown a beard since Jon had last seen him. Upon hearing the dwarf’s greeting, Jon inwardly smiled. During the time Tyrion stayed at the Wall, Jon had grown to like the man. It seemed he still possessed his sense of humor. “The Dwarf of Casterly Rock,” he replied, no anger or annoyance in his tone. After a moment of silence, he smiled back at Tyrion, his own smile silently saying it was good to see him too. It really was good to see him again and to know he was still here. It had been hard not to like Tyrion, and his humor and wit. At Tyrion’s question, Jon glanced back at his party.

“This Ser Davos Seaworth,” Jon said, starting the introductions as he looked to Davos and Lyah, “And Lady Lyah Forrester. They are my advisers.” Jon had always trusted Lyah, since his days playing with her around Winterfell as a child. And, since meeting Davos he had grown to like the man's honest nature and how practical he was. Jon felt their council would serve him well here. His gaze then flickered to Freya. The woman was watching the men around them cautiously. “And Freya, of the Free Folk.” As introduced his companions, he glanced towards Tyrion’s. Besides the armed warriors, there was one other person with him, a young, dark-skinned woman. An adviser to the Queen? Jon wasn’t quite sure. Though, he guessed he would know soon enough.

Looking over at Lyah as the woman spoke, Freya let out a chuckle. “Yes, that’s not how I’d like to end this journey.” There was still much to be done. And what would happen should they become dragon food today? What would happen to the others in the North? And the others once the White Walkers continued south with their army? Speaking of dragons…Freya wondered what they looked like. They were large she had heard, and breathed fire. Having been born in the far reaches of the north, Freya had seen many things. Mammoths, giants, the Walk Walkers, but never anything like a dragon. Freya couldn't help but feel excited about the idea of possibly seeing the dragons.

Putting thoughts back to the topic on hand, Freya climbed from the boat with the others. The water soaked into the ankles of her breeches, but it didn’t feel nearly as cold as water far up north did. Walking ashore, she glanced around at the people. The majority of them were armed men, which set the woman somewhat on edge. Brows slightly furrowed, she watched the soldiers cautiously. There weren't too many of them, but being born in the Free Folk taught her a good deal about paying attention to your surroundings.

As they they slowed to a stop, Freya’s gaze settled on the two people before them. They were a short man and young woman. She recalled that Davos and Lyah were called Jon’s advisers; perhaps these two were Daenerys’ advisers? Much of how all this worked was unknown to Freya. The Free Folk had no kings. And sure, her clan had a chieftan, but they didn’t hold quite the same position kings and queens here in the south did. Even though Mance had been called the King-Beyond-the-Wall, they never physically keeled to him or called him something like "Your Grace" or "My Lord".

Freya found herself studying the short man for a moment. His blond hair was shaggy and curly, and there was a somewhat noticeable scar across his face. There was something calm about the air around him. Freya couldn’t quite put her finger on why it felt that way. Maybe it was in his expression, or the way he carried himself. He was watching them not with hostility, but mere curiosity. Freya turned her gaze to the young, dark-skinned woman beside him. She seemed rather calm too, though she watched them closely.

When the man greeted Jon, Freya’s gaze flickered to the northman for a brief moment. She was silent as Jon made his reply and began to introduce them; instead she glanced around at the armed men again. When Jon said her name, Freya looked back to the man and woman and nodded to them in greeting, offering a small smile.

Jon was quiet as Davos stepped forward to shake Tyrion’s hand. Davos nodded to Tyrion as he spoke, “Unfortunately for me,” he noted when the Lannister mentioned they had fought on opposite sides of the Battle of Blackwater. His sons had died in that battle, so it was still painful point for him. But, still, he genuinely agreed with Tyrion, “I hope we don’t end up opposite sides again.”

Jon hoped so too. They needed to be on the same side if they were going to face the undead army. This was something that threatened everyone in Westeros, regardless of which monarch they chose to fight for.

When the Queen’s other adviser, Missandei, spoke, Jon looked towards her. Her request for them to hand over their weapons caused the man to still. Turning, he glanced back at Davos, who glanced down, as if silently telling him to agree. Jon then glanced at Lyah for a brief moment before turning back to Messandei. “Of course,” he said, offering a somewhat forced smile. As he worked to remove his sword belt, a Dothraki man moved to take it from him. Pursing his lips, Jon held out his sword to the man, allowing him to take it, even though Jon was loath to part with it. He felt vulnerable without the weapon at his side.

Glancing back at Davos as he passed his own blade over to another man, Jon watched as several Dothraki men moved their boat away from the water. Jon really hoped Queen Daenerys didn’t have her father’s temperament. Though there was only one way to find out. Turning, Jon set his focus back on Tyrion and Messandei. He was quiet as they began to make their way up the stone path that led up to Dragonstone Castle. Noticing Lyah make her way closer to him, Jon glanced towards her. He could hear Davos speaking to Messandei, and Tyrion speaking to Freya. The latter didn’t surprise him very much. Tyrion had never seemed bothered by those most might consider outsiders. Tyrion himself understood what that was like. At Lyah’s words, Jon paused a moment to think before answering in a lower tone.

“I’m not particularly comfortable with it,” he replied honestly, “I don’t like giving up our weapons.” Though it was a request he guessed he should have expected. That didn’t mean he had to like it though. “Though, I still think this could work,” he continued in a soft tone. “I hope Daenerys Targaryen and the others will listen to us. She would be a good ally. And I trust Tyrion; I don't think he would knowingly lead us into a trap." Jon said, looking up at the castle as a approached. They just had to trust that Daenerys would listen to Tyrion.

A few moments later, there was a loud, reptilian roar sounding overhead. Before he could turn to look, Jon felt a rush of wind at as back as something large flew over him. Instinctively ducking, he fell to the stairs as he looked up to see a massive reptile flying over them. A dragon. Two more flew at various heights above it. Those were the dragons. Jon stared up at them for a long moment in mix of shock and awe. Blinking, he turned to look at Tyrion and Messandei for a few moments before slowly climbing back to his feet, still stunned.

Freya was quiet as the others spoke, watching each person in turn. It was over the course of the conversation that Freya learned the two Queen’s adviser’s names; the man was Tyrion, and the woman was Messandei. As Messandei spoke, Freya’s gaze shifted to her. Her request made Freya tense. She glanced warily over at Jon for a moment, unwilling to give up her weapons. Though, as Jon agreed she realized she wasn’t in a position where she could choose. Which Freya hated. Still, the woman removed her sword and a smaller dagger she carried on herself, passing them uneasily to a dark-haired man who had stepped up to take them. She didn’t want to make this anymore difficult for the people she was coming to see as friends.

As soon as her weapons were out of her grasp, Freya felt exposed. She always had a weapon nearby. One never knew when they’d need it. And there had been all sorts of dangers north of the Wall. One needed to have a weapon with them at all times for their own safety. As the man who had taken her weapons stepped away, Freya watched him cautiously for a moment longer before looking back to Tyrion and Messandei. She hoped this wouldn’t come back to bite them.

As the others began to make their way up the stone ramps and stairways that led up to the castle, Freya fell into step with them. She heard Davos strike up a conversation with Messandei. She had learned since meeting the man that he was pleasant and easy to get along with in her opinion. Though, the conversation was short-lived and silence soon overtook the group. It was awkward and it made the walk seem longer. Though, Freya was unwilling to be the one to break it. She didn’t have to though. When Tyrion spoke, the woman turned to him.

Her gaze momentarily drifted over to Jon before she answered. “Yes,” she said in reply to Tyrion's first question. She noticed he seemed skeptical as he spoke of the wights, but not scornful or mocking. Freya guessed she shouldn’t be surprised; not many of the people south of the wall had seen the dead. Nodding, she spoke again, “I have seen them. More than once. Believe me, you don’t want to see them if you can avoid it,” she remarked, her tone serious. As she thought of the wights, her mind conjured memories of them. Their unnaturally blue eyes, their rotting bodies, their impressive speed. It all combined to make a fearsome creature. She had seen them overtake even the strongest of warriors, ripping into their flesh with a frightening ferocity. "They're not something someone should take lightly."

A few moments later, the loud roar sounded above the party making their way up to the castle. As something large swooped low over them, Freya ducked low to avoid it. Out of reflex, her hand reached for the sword that was no longer at her hip. She remembered then that she had handed it over. Looking up, Freya's eyes widened in awe as she saw the massive creatures circling the sky above them. Where those the dragons? They had to be. Freya just watched them for a moment as she shakily rose to her feet. They were magnificent. Frightening, if she was being honest (she wouldn't admit it easily though), but magnificent.

Still in a state of shock, Jon glanced towards Tyrion when the man spoke. Jon had heard from stories that dragons were large, but to see them in real life was a shock. As Tyrion and Missandei continued to lead them towards the castle, Jon glanced back at Lyah and his other companions before following. Jon had never seen anything like them, not even north of the Wall. The mammoths and giants had been impressive, but these three dragons were a different story. Every so often, he glanced up towards the dragons soaring high in the sky overhead. Impressive beasts. Fearsome. Dangerous With them on her side, Daenerys Targaryen would be a dangerous foe. All the more reason for him to hope she's believe what they were about to tell her.

As they were led into the castle itself, Jon glanced around, though he was more focused on his inner thoughts than their surroundings. The armed soliders guarding the door hardly spared them a glance. Still, Jon knew they were ready to attack them should they show any sign of hostility. Jon recalled Tyrion's letter, mentioning of the Dothraki horde and the army of unsullied. Yes, Daenerys had recruited an impressive force. Looking to Tyrion when he asked them to wait there, Jon nodded to him. Not for the first time, he wondered how this meeting would go. How much did Daenerys take after her father? Jon hoped not much at all.

When Tyrion returned a few moments later, Jon nodded again to him and followed him into the room. The throne room was dimly lit and rather bare. Queen Daenerys Targaryen sat upon the stone throne at the front of the room, still and silent as they entered. Her hair shone like silver, a color Jon had only heard about. Stopping, he was quiet as Missandei spoke, listing her queen's titles.

How many titles could one person have? Jon only had one. The King in the North. As Missandei finished speaking, Jon and Davos remained silent for a moment. Jon slowly turned to glance at Davos. Upon meeting his gaze, the only man blinked and looked to Daenerys. "This is Jon Snow," the man said simply. Jon stood silently a moment, waiting awkwardly for the man who was very much like his Hand to say his title. "He's the King in the North," Davos quickly added. Jon's single title seemed less impressive than Daenerys' long list of titles. Davos glanced over at Lyah and Freya, wondering if he should introduce their own names as well. Deciding to just get all their introductions over with, he continued. "I am Ser Davos Seaworth and this is Lady Lyah Forrester. We are his Grace's advisers. And this is Freya. She's one of the Free Folk."

Jon meanwhile looked up at Daenerys, trying to keep his nerves in check. Right now was not the time to be nervous. Though, he was thankful the awkward affair of introductions was over. He only hoped the rest of this meeting went well and didn't get any more tense.

If the topic hadn't been so serious and if Freya hadn't been so on edge, she would have laughed at Tyrions joke. Regardless, she didn't have time to really focus on it due to the sudden appearance of the dragons. Freya finally wrenched her gaze away from them when she heard Tyrions voice. Looking towards the man, she accepted his hand as she shakily stood. Once she was standing, her hand fell back to her side as she looked up at the dragons. They circled over the castle. She really hoped they didn't end up being their dinner. Walking alongside the others, Freya shook her head at Lyah's question, "No, never," she whispered back, looking up at the flying creatures in awe. Mammoths and giants were huge and powerful. These dragons were something else entirely.

As they entered the castle, Freya quickly became interested in the architecture. The vaulted ceilings rose high over them, taller than any of the huts her clan had ever built. For a moment, Freya felt small. When they stopped outside a door, the woman continued to glance around in an attempt to take everything in, though she stopped to look at Tyrion when the man spoke. She nodded her head slightly. Once he had left to speak to the queen, Freya returned her focus back to her surroundings. What would happen to them here?

When Tyrion returned to retrieve them, Freya perked up slightly. Now they would see the famous Daenerys Targaryen. Freya had to admit, after all this talk about her, she was curious to see what she was like. The room they were led into was large and dimly lit. It had an ominous feel to it. Looking at the front of the room, Freya finally saw the Queen. She sat upon a throne that Freya felt looked uncomfortable. The woman's hair was a silvery color, one Freya had never once seen before. It was pretty really. Freya wondered then if they would be asked to kneel. That was something she wouldn't do. She had never kneeled to anyone before. Respect was earned among the Free Folk, and they kneeled to no one.

As Missandei spoke, Freya was silent. If the air in the room hadn't felt so tense, Freya would had chuckled. How many titles could one person possibly have? Freya herself had no titles, and that was fine by her. She didn't care much for them. She glanced over at Davos as he introduced Jon and the rest of them, noticing that the air felt awkward and tense. Freya might have smiled if she herself hadn't felt so tense. She looked back to Daenerys, wondering what would happen next.

Despite Daenerys calling him "my lord" Jon replied politely to her question about their journey. "The winds were kind, your Grace." That was when Davos spoke up, looking a little anxious, as well as anger that Daenerys had not referred to him by Jon’s title. Jon wanted to smile at that. He had chose his companions well, he felt. As Daenerys began to talk of Torrhen Stark had bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror, swearing fealty to House Targaryen. Jon knew where this was going. He was being asked to bend the knee.

Jon remained silent as the conversation continued, his mind going over what he knew. He knew little of Daenerys Targaryen. He didn’t know what she was like, what kind of queen she would be, and how she would treat the people of Westeros. That was one of the reasons why Jon wasn’t willing to bend the knee. Furthermore, Jon knew that his bannermen didn’t like the idea of him coming here. They felt it was foolish, and that he should remain in the north. After everything the North had been through, Jon did not believe they would follow a southern Queen. How many of them would break their oaths if he bent the knee? A good deal of them, Jon was certain.

When Tyrion replied to his Queen’s question, Jon glanced towards the man for a brief moment. Letting out a sigh, Jon looked at the floor when Daenerys said she assumed he was here to bend the knee, resisting the urge to look back at Lyah. What to do? After a moment of dilberation, the young man made his decision. “No, I am not.” He said it simply. He had no intention of bending the knee. Though, in the back of his mind he did wonder if they would be burned because they refused. What if he had led Lyah, Davos, and Freya here only to have them all burned alive? That caused a pang of guilt to stab at Jon’s chest. Still, he couldn’t bend the knee. He felt that Lyah wouldn’t want him too. And he knew that Freya would never kneel.

“Your Grace, the oath was made in perpetuity, as long as perpetuity was possible. Your father burned my grandfather alive. He burned my uncle alive. He would have burned the Seven Kingdoms. I don’t believe Torrhen Stark’s oath of perpetuity stands in that situation,” he said, his tone calm and firm, though not impolite. He should not be held to oaths made by his ancestor, especially when The Mad King had killed his grandfather and uncle. Until Jon knew more about Daenerys Targaryen, he could not bend the knee to her. Not now, and maybe not ever, depending on what the future held. He only hoped that Daenerys was nothing like her father, and that she wouldn’t order them killed because Jon disagreed with her.

As the conversation continued, Freya remained silent, just listening. Her brown eyes flickered to each person that spoke. She felt almost out of place here. Things here were so much more different than they were among the Free Folk. How different would things be for her people now that the White Walkers and their army had forced them from their home? Now wasn’t the time to dwell on this though. Forcing the questions and uncertainty to the back of her mind, Freya instead focused on the others in the room. She needed to focus on what was going now, on the people around them.

When the silver-haired Queen began to speak of the past and oaths, Freya’s brows furrowed slightly. Freya didn’t believe Jon should be held to an oath made many, many years before his birth, even if the man who made it was his ancestor. A man keeping his word was important, but this was different, at least to her it was. Jon himself hadn’t made that vow. Things were much different now, and the people involved in this oath have long since passed from this world. But, she didn’t speak. Instead she held her tongue, just continuing to listen.

I assume you're here to bend the knee? When Daenerys said those words Freya clench her fists and her gaze instantly darted over to Jon. Mentally, she begged the man not to kneel. But if he did…Freya herself would not kneel. Jon had her respect, though she had not pledged fealty to him. While she had been asked to come here because of her knowledge of the lands north of the Wall. She had agreed because, not only was this necessary, she also respected Jon Snow, and she felt he was decent. He had saved her and the other Free Folk. He, Lyah, and Davos were three people she had begun to truly trust and see as friends. But, Freya wouldn’t pledge fealty or kneel to anyone that hadn’t earned her respect. And while the fact that Daenerys had risen to his position and power was impressive, Freya couldn’t say she truly respected the woman, not yet.

Freya practically held her breath as she waited for Jon to reply. She knew what her decision was. No matter what Jon’s decision was, Freya would not kneel. If she was killed because of it, so be it. While she didn’t want to die, she wouldn’t submit. When Jon finally replied, refusing to bend the knee, Freya bit back a smile. She liked his decision. Though, her opinion didn’t matter. It was Daenerys’ that mattered. Blinking, Freya glanced towards the woman, wondering what she’d way in reply.

Jon had honestly hoped it wouldn't be this difficult either. But, they had come to his meeting expecting different things it seemed. Regardless, Jon had made his decision. It wasn't necessarily because he believed Daenerys Targaryen was evil; she didn't seem like she was. But, Jon did not know her well personally, and he wasn't one to give his support to someone he did know. Not only that, he had the northern houses to look after. They would be very hesitant to bend the knee to a southern monarch, especially after all that had happened over the past few years because of southern monarchs.

As Daenerys spoke, Jon remained silent, listening to every words she said. While he certainly did agree, she was not her father and she shouldn't be held judged for his crimes, he did disagree about one thing. Just as she was not accountable for her father's actions, he was not beholden to his ancestors oaths. It seemed almost hypocritical to him.

When Daenerys finished speaking, Jon turned to glance back at Davos. Then, he turned to glance back at Lyah and Freya. After looking at each of them, he looked back to Daenerys. "You're right," he began, looking at the Queen evenly, "You're not guilt of your father's crime. And I am not beholden to my ancestor's vows." It was in the past, and there were other factors at play now.

But the oath the Stark family had made decades ago wasn't Jon's reason for coming here. And he felt they had held off discussing it long enough. The White Walkers and their army were a danger to everyone. It didn't matter which monarch you swore fealty to, if any at all. Winter was coming. Jon only hoped he could make Daenerys listen and realize that they needed to work together if they were to survive. He hoped that having the testimony of someone who had been born and raised in the lands north of the Wall would help sway Daenerys to see that fighting the dead was a more pressing matter.

"But, that's not why I'm here. I need your help," Jon said, figuring it was time to bring up his reason for coming here. And he didn't see the point of beating round the bush. "And you need mine," he continued bluntly. He was aware of her powerful forces. She had the Unsuilled, the Dothraki, both of which seemed very loyal to her. Not to mention the three dragons that they had seen as they had made their up to the castle. Still, she'd need their help to face the army of the dead. They already had gathered knowledge of ways the wights could be defeated.

Who ruled the Seven Kingdoms wouldn't matter if they all died and became wights. The wars they were fighting among themselves were only keeping them from facing the real threat. And that threat was creeping up on them very quickly. They had to prepare now while some time still remained.

Freya's gaze settled back on Daenerys when the other woman replied. She seemed genuinely disappointed with Jon's refusal. Though this wasn't the topic they had come here to discuss, and Freya found she was getting anxious to get to it. Not because it was a a subject she liked talking about, but because the sooner they talked about it the better. However, the Free Woman remained silent, shifting slightly as Daenerys began to speak again.

She agreed that Daenerys wasn't guilty of her father's crime. If Freya believed that Jon shouldn't be held to a vow that his ancestor made long before he was born, then she certainly believed that Daenerys shouldn't be judged for her father's crimes. Each was their own person. Which was why when Daenerys again began to speak of Jon honoring the vow his ancestor had made, she couldn't help but think it was hypocritical of her. It honestly left Freya feeling irritated.

When Jon glanced back at her and Lyah, Freya met his gaze. She wondered what his reply will be. Either way, she didn't think he'd agree to kneel. He had seemed very sure of his decision. His next words relieved Freya. Still he refused to kneel, and he also brought up their reason for coming here. It wasn't because of some oath made by men who had long since died, but instead about the enemy making its way down from the north. Freya had been asked to come to tell them what she had seen north of the Wall. To tell them of the White Walkers and their wights. And to tell them of what they were capable of.

Freya looked over at Daenerys, trying to gauge her reaction. It must have been funny to hear Jon say that she needed his help. Daenerys had a formidable army from what she heard, as well as three massive, fire-breathing dragons. Still, she would need help. As the White Walkers led their army south, their number of wights continued to grow. The more people who died, the more soldiers they had for their army. Even with the aid of dragons, their army would still be overwhelming. Ferya had seen the destruction they were capable of. The army of the dead was massive and shouldn't be underestimated.

Though would they believe them? Freya glanced over at Tyrion. She wasn't sure if she had even convinced him that she was telling the truth when they had briefly spoken on the way to the castle. It wasn't like she had been able to tell him much before they had been distracted by the dragons. Well, all she could do was try to tell Daenerys and her council and hope that it convinced them to work with Jon.