"Eddard Stark."
A cold voice echoed through the damp dungeon.
"Have you made your decision yet?"
Heavy footsteps followed, the steel-studded boots striking the stone floor with sharp metallic clangs that shattered the silence.
Storm's End's dungeons were cold and damp. Water dripped steadily from the moss-covered walls, and the icy air seeped deep into the bones.
In the darkness, Eddard Stark slowly raised his head.
A torchlight approached from the corridor, forcing him to squint as the sudden brightness pierced his eyes.
He had only just awakened from a dazed sleep.
Hunger and exhaustion weighed heavily on his body, drawing a low groan from his lips before he broke into a fit of coughing.
"...Stannis?"
Still half-conscious, Eddard instinctively called out.
Only after speaking did he fully wake.
A bitter smile crossed his face.
Lowering the arm shielding his eyes, he let out a faint snort.
"What is there left to consider?"
The approaching figure stopped.
"If you refuse to submit..."
"I will kill you."
The cold threat echoed from beneath the flickering torchlight.
Eddard remained unmoved.
Struggling against his chains, he shifted into a more comfortable position against the damp stone wall.
"Everything you're doing is meaningless, Stannis."
"This is simply another Siege of Storm's End."
"But this time..."
"No one is coming to save you."
His words were calm but sharp.
Silence followed.
After a long pause, Stannis finally spoke again.
"No."
"This time is different."
Eddard laughed quietly.
"Different?"
"Don't tell me another smuggler is going to sneak onions and turnips into the castle again."
"Stannis..."
"Another siege like this, and you'll simply starve to death."
"This isn't the same as before."
Stannis offered no reply.
Beneath Eddard's mockery still lay a final attempt to persuade an old ally.
---
The silence was eventually broken by another figure.
A woman dressed in crimson stepped into the torchlight.
Melisandre.
She emerged from behind Stannis and slowly approached Eddard.
Her ruby-red eyes glowed brilliantly in the darkness.
They resembled burning gemstones, radiating an eerie crimson light.
Her lips curved slightly as she spoke in a calm, melodious voice.
"Victory belongs to King Stannis."
"He is the hero foretold."
"Lord Stark..."
"You cannot understand."
"Mortals cannot perceive the deeper truths."
"This is the will of the gods."
Eddard recognized her immediately.
Looking into those glowing red eyes, he sneered without fear.
"So your god commands you to burn the statues of other gods..."
"Spread fear..."
"And make innocent people bleed?"
Unlike his conversations with Stannis...
Eddard held nothing but contempt for the Red Priestess.
Melisandre ignored his sarcasm.
She continued walking until she stood directly before him.
Then...
She gently cupped his face with both hands.
Her palms were warm.
Almost burning.
Their eyes met.
Through his gray eyes, Melisandre seemed to be searching for something hidden deep within his soul.
Her breath carried the scent of smoke and fire.
"I saw your death in the flames, Eddard Stark."
Just as he attempted to pull away, she whispered softly,
"It was Karl Baratheon..."
"The man who should never have existed..."
"He was the one who pulled you back from death."
Her mysterious voice was strangely captivating.
Eddard remained unmoved.
"Your tricks don't work on me, witch."
Melisandre merely smiled.
"You'll never understand what I say."
"But that doesn't matter."
"You only need to understand one thing."
"Don't waste your life."
"Use it for something greater."
"Only Stannis Baratheon can save the Seven Kingdoms."
"He alone can end the darkness that approaches."
"You should kneel before your king."
As she spoke, the ruby hanging around her neck glowed brighter.
Its crimson light illuminated half of her beautiful face.
Instead of beauty...
It inspired only dread.
Eddard showed no fear.
The chains around his wrists rattled violently as he glared directly at her.
"You're nothing but a seductive liar."
"A deceiving witch."
"Your very existence is a mistake."
"You've bewitched Stannis."
"You've led him onto the wrong path."
"He's dancing on the edge of a cliff."
"And you don't even realize you're pushing your so-called chosen hero into the abyss."
"You claim you saw my death in the flames."
"Then tell me..."
"Did you also see Stannis fail?"
"Did you see him die?"
"Your god is no true god."
"He is a false god."
"An evil god."
For the first time...
Real anger filled Eddard's voice.
He hated this woman.
Despised her.
---
BOOM!
A wave of scorching heat burst outward.
Without warning, every torch lining the dungeon walls ignited simultaneously.
Brilliant flames filled the corridor.
The sudden heat forced Eddard to shield his eyes as he stumbled backward into the corner of his cell.
Melisandre slowly released his face and stepped away.
Then Stannis finally spoke.
"I never asked for this crown."
"Gold upon the head is cold..."
"And heavy."
Eddard forced himself to look through watering eyes.
Stannis continued.
"But whether I desire it is irrelevant."
"As Robert's lawful heir..."
"The Iron Throne belongs to me."
"That is the law."
"So long as I wear the crown..."
"I have responsibilities."
"Even if fulfilling them demands my own life..."
"If millions can be saved from the coming darkness..."
"I will gladly pay that price."
Eddard frowned.
"What are you talking about?"
He couldn't understand Stannis at all.
Melisandre answered instead.
"The darkness is coming."
"And everyone must choose."
"Men and women."
"Young and old."
"Noble and common."
"The choice is the same."
"Light or darkness."
"Justice or evil."
"The true god..."
"Or the false one."
"Open your eyes."
"The truth surrounds you."
"The night is dark and full of terrors."
"The day is bright and full of life."
"Ice and fire."
"Black and white."
"Love and hatred."
"Joy and pain."
"Winter and summer."
"Evil and justice."
Her chant echoed through the prison like a strange hymn.
When her voice faded...
Stannis spoke once more.
"This is my duty."
"And now..."
"You must also make your choice."
"This has nothing to do with crowns."
"Or power."
"As Robert's Hand..."
"You merely obeyed your king."
"Karl Baratheon was not wrong."
"And neither were you."
With those final words...
Stannis turned and walked away, carrying the torch with him.
At the prison entrance, he stopped one last time.
"This castle..."
"Will become Karl Baratheon's grave."
"My patience is limited."
"If you still refuse to make the right choice..."
"I'll execute you..."
"And appoint a more suitable Warden of the North."
Without another word...
He disappeared into the darkness.
Melisandre cast one last meaningful glance toward Eddard before quietly following him.
One by one...
The torches extinguished themselves.
The warmth vanished.
Cold darkness reclaimed the dungeon.
Eddard lowered his head.
Silence filled the prison.
After a long while...
He sighed softly.
---
"This is the last raven."
Under the cover of night, Kevan Lannister released a black raven into the sky.
Watching it disappear into the darkness, he quietly muttered to himself.
His gloved hands rubbed his frostbitten face before he exhaled a cloud of white mist.
Turning around...
He returned to a sheltered campsite hidden behind a rocky cliff.
A bonfire crackled nearby.
Tywin Lannister sat beside it.
A thick bearskin cloak rested upon his shoulders.
Across his lap lay a Valyrian steel sword.
Longclaw.
Using a piece of soft deerskin, he carefully polished its blade.
Kevan knelt beside the fire.
"The message has been sent."
"After this..."
"We withdraw toward Deepwood Motte?"
Tywin continued polishing the sword for several moments before finally sliding it back into its scabbard.
Only then did he look up.
"We have no other choice."
"This is the only path that leads to victory."
His expression remained calm.
As though discussing tomorrow's weather.
Kevan lowered his eyes toward the flames.
"Yes..."
"It truly is our only option."
Ever since exposing House Bolton's conspiracy at Last Hearth...
Their army of former Night's Watch deserters had been fleeing across the frozen wilderness of the North.
Using the mountains near the Bay of Ice as cover...
Living off supplies seized from House Umber...
And occasionally raiding isolated farms for food...
They had survived for nearly three months.
Even so...
More than two thousand men had already been lost.
Most hadn't died in battle.
They had frozen to death.
The brutal northern winter was merciless toward southern soldiers.
Fortunately...
Their perseverance had finally brought them close to dawn.
Kevan returned to reality.
Using a stick, he pulled several roasted potatoes from the fire.
Ignoring the heat, he carefully peeled them with his dagger before arranging them neatly on a wooden plate.
Next...
He sliced meat from a roasting rabbit.
Everything was carefully prepared before he respectfully offered the simple meal to his elder brother.
Tywin accepted the dagger and calmly used it as both knife and fork.
Removing his hat...
He remained silent for a while.
Finally, he spoke.
"Gina and the others have already reached the Bite."
"They'll launch their offensive from White Harbor."
"That's where they'll attract the North's full attention."
"And where they'll gain the greatest advantage."
"They'll strike first."
"As for us..."
"We move immediately."
"The Wolves have searched these mountains for months."
"We've run out of places to hide."
"So tomorrow..."
"We'll break through their encirclement."
"And head directly for Deepwood Motte."
"The Ironborn have already landed along the Stony Shore."
"House Greyjoy has assembled its forces near Deepwood Motte."
"The entire war now hinges on a single move."
"Our breakthrough tomorrow..."
"Will serve as bait."
"Robb Stark has already prepared a trap for us."
Tywin's eyes narrowed.
"But that trap..."
"Is also our opportunity."
"If we perform our role perfectly..."
"Deepwood Motte..."
"Will become Robb Stark's grave."
"And once that happens..."
"This war will finally begin to turn in our favor."
He calmly repeated tomorrow's entire strategy.
Kevan understood every word.
"Brother."
"I'll lead the vanguard tomorrow."
"I'll be the first through the enemy lines."
"We must guarantee our breakthrough."
His face carried the resolve of a man prepared to die.
Tywin shook his head.
"No."
"I'll ride beside you."
"Don't worry."
"Neither of us will die tomorrow."
His confidence never wavered.
As though tomorrow's battle had already been decided.
He calmly speared a piece of rabbit meat together with a roasted potato and ate with perfect composure.
Kevan remembered the final raven soaring into the night sky.
He trusted Tywin completely.
Yet...
As he lowered his head...
A determined light quietly shone in his eyes.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)