Reports from Glass and Wings

A/N: Hello again. Surprise, I am not dead yet. But still, I am so sorry for long wait since my previous chapter. I really did not plan for such a long hiatus back then. But well, long story short, I had to cover some big medical expenses that I had been putting off shortly I published the last one. Then, I had to focus way more on work. And somewhere along the next 6 months, I honestly felt a bit burned out on this particular tale on the occasions I did found the time and urge to write. I guess that can happen when you a single story consumes so much of your creative output for over 2 years. Which is also why lately, when I felt like writing something, I ended up updating my Star Wars fic instead.

Regardless, I now feel more refreshed to take on the next phase of this story. And my long break also gave me the opportunity to fill in the gaps in many spaces of my outlines and improve several of my future plans with more depth. So, if any of you still care about reading what comes next, then I thank you very much for your continued support and hope you enjoy this tale.

No scenes with Jon or Sansa in this chapter, specifically, but it covers some interesting reports that follow up from where we left off. And in the next chapter, we continue where we left off with Ramsay, for those that are looking forward to see how...that...ends :P

In the mystical glow of the Glass Candle, Skrel of House Magnar met the gaze of Shiera Seastar through the mirror's reflective surface, the spell holding steady like a literal charm. The room was dim, lit only by the eerie flame that seemed to dance and flicker like an echo from the past. The Skagosi sorcerer took a deep breath, steadying himself before raising his gaze.

"Greetings, Dragon Dreamer," Skrel had said, bowing his head briefly in respect. "I have much to report."

Shiera's mismatched eyes focused on him, a blend of intrigue and expectation. "So it seems, Keeper Skrel," The legendary witch of the past replied, her voice clear, despite the long distance between them. "Let's get started."

Skrel nodded, collecting his thoughts. "My mission to the Iron Islands brought interesting revelations. As we suspected Euron Greyjoy has begun using his authority as the new King of the Iron Islands to prepare for war against the North. More distressingly, he has recruited forces from the east during his travels across the seas, most notably a Yi Tish sorcerer. What drew my attention, however, was not just his origin, but a mark I recognized all too well." Skrel paused, his expression darkening.

"The sorcerer bore a tattoo of a cracked bloodstone on the back of his hand, a symbol of the Church of the Starry Wisdom." He said, contuing despite the note of disgust and trepidation in his voice, knowing that his past was clouding his features at that very moment.

Shiera's eyes narrowed slightly, understanding the gravity of his words. "I see," she murmured.

"I had a feeling," Skrel continued, "that Euron intended to use this sorcerer to aid the Bolton forces against King Jon. Given my... past with this sinister organization, I deemed it necessary to follow the sorcerer closely. My judgment led me to believe that being near Jon's faction would position me well to assist when the time came."

And so, the Keeper continued with his report flowed naturally, explaining the details and the rationale behind his decisions. Before too long, Skrel detailed how he had trailed the sorcerer to the North by infiltrating House Glover's army that came to answer Ramsay Bolton's call, witnessing firsthand the conflict that he had heard some start calling Battle of the Bastards the prior night.

"The battle was fierce," Skrel recounted, "and it became clear that the sorcerer intended to make a considerable attempt on our prophesied king's life. I couldn't stand idly by, so I sabotaged the defenses of the tent where Rickon Stark was being held captive and informed the lad to be ready for rescue, which soon came when a warrioress named Brianne of Tarth dispatched the soldiers alongside the Snowbear familiar of one of the new skinchangers in King Jon's army."

Skrel's eyes flickered with the intensity of the memories as he continued his report. "The Battle of the Bastards was unlike any I had witnessed before, Dragon Dreamer. The ferocity, the chaos, it was all there, yes, but there was something more...something darker at play."

He paused for a moment, his gaze distant as he recollected the events. "The Yi Tish sorcerer revealed his true power on that battlefield. As Jon and his dragon took to the skies, commanding the battlefield from above with frostflame that bred desperation among the ranks of the Bolton forces, the sorcerer revealed why Euron had picked him specifically to try to **** a dragonrider."

Shiera leaned forward slightly from her chair, thousands of miles away, her interest piqued. Skrel could see the analytical glint in her green and blue eyes as she absorbed his words.

"The sorcerer wielded earth-based magic, manipulating the very ground beneath us," The Keeper explained with a sigh, unable to keep a tinge of sadness from his tone. "So, he was like my fellow Keeper Zhu of Tiqui, who has been unable to truly rest in peace since the Night King slayed and the raised him during our Order's recent expedition to Beyond the Wall.

Shiera bowed her head in understanding and empathy for a moment, as he did but soon, her inquisitive gaze met his once more so, Skrel continued with his report. "This sorcerer conjured boulders from the earth, sending them hurtling through the air towards Jon and his Ice dragon. But these were no ordinary projectiles. They seemed... rational, almost. They chased after Jon and his dragon as if guided by some unseen ****, relentless and unyielding. That did surprise me, since I never saw Keeper Zhu do anything like that myself when he still lived."

Skrel's hands clenched unconsciously as he recounted the scene. "It was unsettling to watch. The rocks twisted and turned in the air, dodging obstacles and continuing their pursuit. It was clear to me then that this sorcerer was no ordinary foe. His magic was not just potent, he wielded it with a such sustained precision that it was truly chilling."

Shiera's face remained stoic at his remarks, but he thought he saw a glimpse of genuine concern on the youthful face of the ancient Targaryen witch. Which made sense, as far as he was concerned. Sorcereress as experienced as her would know even better than Skrel the implications of such a formidable enemy aligning with a rival Sorcerer King that sought out to destroy their own prophesied king.

Skrel took a deep breath, steadying himself before continuing. "As the battle raged on and the sorcerer's relentless attacks continued, another figure emerged on the battlefield, one we had long suspected and anticipated through the omens we deciphered."

He paused for a brief moment, choosing his words carefully. "Melisandre of Asshai, the Red Priestess that set all of these events in motion by reviving King Jon, revealed herself to be the First Witness to Flame and Frost that our prophecies spoke of. Her presence was unmistakable, and her actions confirmed our suspicions."

The Skagosi's face lit up with a mix of reverence and relief as he recounted her intervention...and sadness at the price of her sacrifice after such an uplifting spectacle "In the darkest moment of the battle, when the sorcerer's attacks seemed inescapable, Lady Melisandre called upon her god, R'hllor. The Red Priestess' body became a temporary sliver for his power and managed to unleash a portion of the Lord of Light's caged might right there on the battlefield."

He took a deep breath, remembering the scene with a sense of awe. "A radiant burst of light, pure and blinding, erupted from her. It was as if the very sun had descended upon the field. The light spread like wildfire, and where it touched, the wounded were healed. Even the Ice Dragon, which had taken a considerable beating from the sorcerer's attacks, seemed rejuvenated and reinvigorated by the divine energy."

Skrel could almost see the scene playing out before him again as he spoke. "The Bolton forces were momentarily distracted, stunned and blinded by the sheer intensity of the light. It was a turning point, a brief pause in the chaos that tipped the scales in our favor."

The Keeper went on, his voice steady and resolute. "In that moment of respite, King Jon seized the opportunity. With a surge of determination, he and his dragon swooped down attacked the Glover flank, incapacitating the sorcerer in the process."

Skrel concluded this part of his report, his expression serious. "Melisandre's intervention was crucial, Dragon Dreamer. It confirmed her role as the First Witness from our omens and showcased the potent power that R'hllor could bring to bear in our favor."

Shiera Seastar looked at him, her mismatched eyes unblinking for a long moment. Then she smiled ever so slightly.

"You have been busy, Keeper Skrel," She remarked. "Good job and thank you for bringing all of this to my attention."

The Skagosi sorcerer bowed his head in response, glad to have been able to please such a high-ranking member of the Emerald Council. But soon, her face became unreadable yet again.

"What of the ancient pendant from the vault?" She asked. "Did that omen also came to pass?"

Not for the first time, Skrel wondered what it must be like for the Dragon Dreamer to spend her waking hours in the present while wandering the future when she is asleep and what strange things might that do to someone's mind, since he was sure she already knew the answer to that question. Still, he felt the remade pendant hanging around his neck still and reflected: Had that prophetic omen come to pass?

He was inclined to think yes. After all, he had been guarding the ancient crystal around his neck for well over a moon's turn, ever since he had been assigned to infiltrate Pyke by using his mastery of glamor magicks that could alter his appearance in order to spy on the new Greyjoy King. At the time, he had felt uneasy about the idea of carrying it, true, and not just because it was one of the oldest magical artifacts that were kept in their Order's Vault. Of course, there were other reasons that had him unsettled at the task. Ever since First of the Founders had come into the dark crystal's possession, they had learned enough to understand that without careful protection, the artifact would injure the exposed skin it came into contact with, draining the life out of that patch of flesh.

The few times members of the order had been unfortunate enough to have that happen to them, they had discovered that no herb, medicine, spell, or healing art known to them could renew the part of the body that was damaged by the crystal. As a result, he had opted to keep the dark stone on a necklace but also to cover his chest, back, and shoulders in thick mail armor so as to have a layer of defense against his skin. And even with those measures suggested to him, he had originally been quite tempted to turn down the mission.

But then, he had listened to the prophecy of the Dragon Dreamer that came to her the night before being handpicked for the dangerous mission and felt inspired at the thought of being involved in such grand matters, and so soon before formally joining forces with the prophesied king they had been waiting centuries for.

And eventually, he saw the battlefield erupt with the light of R'hllor. So, he nodded to the second most senior member of the Emerald Counci before showing her the now remade, golden crystal.

"As you know, the artifact used to be far darker than it is now," Skrel pointed out. "It used to be as pitch-black as the darkest night, like a living embodiment of shadow. And yet, after the battle begun, it started to brighten from within...as if golden light was starting to come forth with every pulse. Then, the First Witness to Flame and Frost called forth the healing and invigorating power of the Lord of Light. And before my eyes, the crystal changed into this winged, golden form. The full meaning of it all still escapes me, Dragon Dreamer, but yes, I am inclined to agree with the prophetic line that came to you: the Darkened State has reclaimed it's Light...which means, the time approaches for its Lord, the Rogue, and the Immortal to rise," The Keeper explained, inhaling sharply once he was over.

For a long, long moment, the longed-lived Targaryen simply stared at the magically purified artifact, her mismatched eyes narrowed. And from across the mirror, Skrel could all but see how the thoughts in her mind danced faster than a sword master’s blade across the throats of his foes. The Keeper knew better than to interrupt at that point. If just half the things he had heard about the Dragon Dreamer were true, then Shiera Seastar's mind had grown thrice as keen as the sharpest blade with age, and deadlier by far. It was wiser to stand back when such a weapon was wielded.

"The paths are coming together now," She finally said, her tone even. "And so, we must take advantage of the opportunities. As such, it is important that you bring the following news to our king: The Bolton-aligned Keeps have fallen, once the Skagosi, true to their word, crossed to the mainland and have proven themselves as bannermen to our prophesied king. The Dreadfort, once a symbol of House Bolton's reign, along with the Last Hearth of House Umber, and the Karhold of House Karstark, have all surrendered by now."

Skrel's eyes widened at that. He had known it was only a matter of time before the undermanned castles yielded but it happened even more quickly than he had expected. Then he had to suppress a chuckle, as he realized with a sudden thrill of anticipation that this had to mean that their army had finally started deploying their sorcerers in the open for the first time in centuries, in order to improve their odds of victory, much to the shock of the Bolton bannermen.

The Targaryen sorceress smirked ever so slightly at the look on his face, which he would have found shocking at one point, but he supposed it made sense for her to also take a moment to revel in the significance of these events: after all, she had been waiting far longer than most members of the Order of the Emerald Weirwood for the day they would announce their existence to the world.

"Also, be aware that some of the members of the order that King Jon already met back in White Harbor are on their way to Winterfell," Lady Shiera went on. "Enforcer Maenag will represent the Emerald Council on Winterfell until King Jon first royal visit to Skagos. And they will be able to arrive before too long, given that his companion, Nadria Sand, will be using the water magic from her Ancient Rhoynar heritage to clear the ice and snow and allow their boat to use the river route and increasing the speed of their boat when she can. Regardless, report all of this to King Jon when you are able and make sure you stress once more that, the sooner he is able to find the time to make the agreed upon official visit to Skagos, the better for all of us."

Skrel bowed his head slightly. "As you command, Dragon Dreamer."

A moment of silence followed, the only sound being the soft crackle of the flame within the Glass Candle. He took a deep breath before too long though, hesitating momentarily before deciding to broach a delicate subject.

"My lady," He began, his voice careful, "there is something more I wish to discuss. Because it will be better if you hear it from me."

Shiera nodded slowly for him to proceed, her gaze attentive but not revealing any surprise. He sighed.

"As I said, during the mission, I noticed the sorcerer's tattoo," Skrel continued, "A bloodstone on the back of his hand, the mark of the Church of the Starry Wisdom. It... it brought back memories and prompted certain actions. Some in the Emerald Council may consider them...impulsive at best."

He paused, gathering his thoughts before plunging into the crux of the matter. "As you know, I was captured by slavers in my youth before awakening into my powers and sold to this sinister religion that, for thousands of year's, have worshipped the eastern champion of the Great Other that emerged in the Great Empire of the Dawen during the ancient Long Night: the Night King's counterpart we know as the Bloodstone Emperor.

"And as I am sure you can imagine the...experiences..." He went on as he tried to keep the shivers down his spine under control," that I had to endure as one of their slaves before being rescued by the Order of the Emerald Weirwood have influenced the way I see tyrants and rulers that **** their halves of the social contracts. What you may not know as much, however, is that I have come to associate the Ancient Language of Truth that the First of the Founders taught the original members of our order to consolidate our safeguards," The Keeper admitted. "Don't hear me wrong, Dragon Dreamer. I understand that this language that magically compels our behavior to secrecy once the oaths of initiation are spoken by the members is by far the biggest reason that we have managed to avoid unwanted detection from the outside world for centuries. But...I fear its sheer potential for **** now that the time is nigh for us to reveal ourselves to the North in full and eventually, the wider world."

The Skagosi sorcerer met Shiera's gaze squarely, determination in his eyes. "Thus, when speaking to King Jon and the lords under his command, I took the liberty of hinting at certain weaknesses inherent in the Ancient Language. I felt it necessary to the spread the word so they could make note of safeguard against its potential ****, once our Order steps into the light."

Shiera sighed heavily, a rare break in her usual composure. Her eyes, one dark blue and the other bright green, regarded Skrel carefully but he could tell he had given her a headache, if only because of what he has added to her plate in the next Council meeting.

"Skrel," She began, her tone understanding yet tinged with caution, "I comprehend your reasoning. Your past has molded you into a vigilant guardian and I respect that. However, you must understand that not all members of the Emerald Council will appreciate your... initiative in this matter."

She paused, letting the implication of her words hang in the air. Skrel knew he had taken a risk, but he believed his actions were necessary for the greater good. And if it costed him...well, he would cross that bridge when he got to it.

"The Ancient Language of Truth is a powerful tool, and its revelation must be handled with utmost care," Shiera continued, her gaze steady. "We must strive to ensure that our revelations foster a sense of unity and trust, not suspicion."

Skrel nodded, understanding the gravity of her words and suppressed the urge to sigh. He was trying to navigate a fine line, and he hoped that the eventual outcome would justify his actions. But only time will tell, at this point,

Soon, though, he titled his head when he noticed that the Dragon Dreamer's mismatched eyes took on a thoughtful gleam, as if connecting dots in a complex web of intrigue. Her gaze seemed to pierce through the veil of the present, contemplating possibilities hidden to others.

It was a mesmerizing whirlpool to watch, if he was honest with himself.

"Speaking of interference and misuse of power," She murmured, her words flowing like a gentle stream, yet carrying undercurrents of profound implications. "I find myself pondering whether the arrival of the earthen mage from Yi Ti is as coincidental as it seems."

She met Skrel's eyes, her expression now a mask of calm speculation that betrayed none of her thoughts. "This sorcerer's considerable attempt on our king's life raises unsettling questions. Could there be a connection with Chai, the Sorcerer Lord of Carcosa, and claimant to the Yellow Dynasty of Yi Tish Emperors?"

Skrel's thoughts momentarily froze, his mind grappling with the potential implications. The Sorcerer Lord Chai. He who had claimed to be the 69th Emperor in the tumultuous civil war that has gripped Yi Ti was an enigmatic and powerful figure in the widescale, yet stalemated, War of the Three God-Emperors that erupted in recent years on the enormous domains covered by the Golden Empire of the east. But to the Order of the Emerald Weirwood, he was a more well-known entity...especially after he had astounded them by circumventing the binding magical oaths of the Ancient Language of Truth, something they had thought impossible, at least to that degree.

"The one who knew of our omens regarding the prophesied king and his Ice Dragon," Skrel voiced his thoughts, the realization dawning on him. The pieces seemed to fall into place, and he felt a dreaded chill of concern. "And who found a way around our oaths, against all expectations."

"Yes," Shiera affirmed, her gaze unwavering. "It seems too orchestrated to be mere chance, doesn't it? An earthen mage from distant Yi Ti at this so-called Battle of the Bastards, trying to eliminate our prophesied king? Given Chai's knowledge of our omens and his unexpected escape from our oaths, we must entertain the possibility of his involvement."

Skrel felt a surge of surprise mingled with apprehension. Could Euron Greyjoy had encounter the Sorcerer Lord in his travels to the eastern seas or even on distant and dark Asshai? Could they have decided to establish an alliance of sorts and that was how Euron came to gain the willing services of a powerful sorcerer from the **** Far East? This angle was one he hadn't contemplated before, but now it seemed glaringly evident.

"I hadn't considered that connection, Lady Shiera," he confessed, his mind abuzz with the emerging painting. "If King Jon permits, I will interrogate the sorcerer. We need to ascertain if there is indeed a link and understand the scope of this threat."

Shiera nodded, her expression remaining enigmatic, an unreadable mystery. "Proceed with caution, Skrel," She advised, her tone both soothing and somber. "We tread treacherous paths, and each revelation could send ripples far and wide."

Skrel nodded, acutely aware of the burden of responsibility. The stakes were monumental, and every step had to be taken with utmost care to protect their king and the mission of their Order.

Soon, he felt the magic in the glass candle rebel against his control once again and he fought the urge to scowl. But he lacked the blood of the dragons, so there was a limit to how much he could hold the spell.

"I am afraid I am going to have to stop the spell that allows us to communicate from afar very soon," He warned. "Is there anything else that you would like me to inform King Jon?"

At that, she gave him a wide, wide smirk and the mere fact she did so gave him pause.

"Yes. Tell him that he has the personal assurances from a senior member of the Emerald Council that he is really going to like the gift Enforcer Maenag will bring with him to Winterfell."

Skrel blinked rapidly at that but soon, he winced when he could not sustain the spell any longer and the mirror reflected his own face back at him again.

Before long, though, he scoffed. "The Dragon Dreamer's reputation as a historical tease is certainly well earned."

Western Outskirts of Manderly Territory: The North - En Route to Winterfell

As the former queen finished unfolding Sansa's letter, Margaery bit her bottom lip, feeling doubts creep into her nerves. Jon must have told his sister about their moments together in White Harbor. Otherwise, she would not have felt the need to send a personal letter so quickly after already reporting their victory. Especially if they had to use the strange and magical powers of these...skinchangers...to find them on the road in order to deliver the letter.

So...what if her old friend was feeling territorial about her brother, like a fierce direwolf that sought to protect her pack members? She swallowed ever so slightly at the thought but soon, she lowered her gaze, hoping to reconnect with Sansa in good terms after all they had both gone through.

To Lady Margaery of House Tyrell, The Rose of Highgarden,

Surrounded by ancient woods, I find a moment of peace to communicate with you. Our recent triumph against my old tormentor, Ramsay Bolton, has brought a measure of hope back to the North, and as I sit beneath the Ironwood trees of Ironrath, I offer silent prayers to the old gods and the new for our shared safety.

Josera Snow, a man gifted with the rare power of the skinchangers and Mira Forrester's half-brother, assures me that my words will find their way to you, even as you traverse the vast terrains outside White Harbor. Guiding a raven through woods and fields without the walls of a castle as a beacon is no small feat, but with Josera’s abilities, I have faith it will reach you.

Tales of your travels from King's Landing to the North has reached me. I must confess, I am most pleased to hear that you're drawing closer with each passing day. Cersei Lannister despicable actions at destroying the Sept of Baelor and everyone in it with Wildfire was a horrific to hear. But I will admit to you, because I feel you will understand this better than most, that I also felt exasperated and disappointed but not exactly surprised at the fact that the hated queen mother somehow managed to escape the consequences of her actions yet again. That terrible woman always did had a talent for evading justice' grip.

Regardless, I am so relieved to hear that you were able to avoid her massacre. When my brother brought news of your escape from that inferno, I released a breath I hadn't realized that I'd been holding for a moment there. And that was when I realized in full that, after all this time and all the adversities I have had to endure since last we spoke, you still mean a lot to me, my good friend. And I am so glad to know that we need not remain on opposite sides in the wars to come because of political entanglements anymore.

Still, I am aware that this did not came without cost. Jon shared with me the trials you and Loras endured at the hands of the self-righteous and hypocritical members of the Faith Militant. I am so sorry to hear of what befell you during your captivity, both in the black cells and, later on, in the gilded cage of royalty this High Septon placed around your being, in order to manipulate you for his ends. As someone that once called the Red Keep a spacious prison after my father was wrongfully executed, I know how itis to live under the weight of that pressure; feeling as if an invisible axe is looming above your neck waiting for you to make the wrong move before tasting your blood.

It seems like a lifetime ago when we dreamt of a future in the vibrant gardens of the Red Keep, where I would be wed to Loras, and you and I would become sisters in more than just spirit. While the whims of destiny led us on different paths, and I am not the same woman I was back then, the sentiment remains alive in my heart.

There is much more I would like to tell you. Things that will also influence what I am to share with you next. But while great in importance, most of these are topics best spoken in person. I am afraid that there are certain matters I cannot trust a letter, even one protected by one of our skinchanger champions. Still, for now, I am willing to share something with you with that I hope fills you heart with joy and put your mind, shaken by your recent trials, at ease:

If the winds guide your heart towards King Jon and he sees the same future, know that my blessing and well-wishes are with you. The thought of you as queen, by my brother’s side, brings a genuine smile to my face.

Time has created a chasm of experiences between our last meeting and now. And even though it was challenging, I am sure we have emerged at the other end, changed but stronger than before in the ways that matter most. I yearn for the moment when we can sit, perhaps with a goblet of Arbor gold, and share our stories, our fears, and our dreams. You were a beacon in my darkest nights back in that nest of vipers the people call King's Landing, and I long to rekindle that bond of sisterhood, especially now that Arya has returned to me and reminded me of the bonds I had come to misses so dearly.

With all the warmth my heart holds, Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell and your friend.

Margaery's fingers lingered on the edges of Sansa's letter, feeling comforted by the emotional warmth of the parchment and the weight of the sentiments penned down, despite the winter cold. Within the confines of her traveling carriage that had now resumed their movements along with the escort that Lady Wynafryd Manderly had arranged for them, the outside world's noises were muffled, allowing her a few moments of solitude with Sansa's words.

"Ancient woods of Ironrath..." She thought, painting a picture in her mind of Sansa sitting beneath Ironwood trees. The image brought comfort. "Sansa has truly become a Northern Lady. I can almost see her there, the great trees as her guardians." The mental panting made her smile before she knew it.

Margaery's heart swelled with pride at the tales of Ramsay Bolton's defeat, led by none other than Sansa and her brother the king. Her friend, once so unhappy, had truly blossomed into her strength and to learn that she had managed to surpass their expectations so much pleased and surprised her in equal measures.

A soft smile played on Margaery's lips as she contemplated the mention of Josera Snow. The allure of the skinchangers, once merely a fixture in stories, now seemed so real. Sansa, amidst such powerful allies, seemed to be interested in unraveling the North's ancient secrets one by one. And she was getting more and more curious as to what new wonders will they uncover.

Reading about the Sept of Baelor, however, made Margaery's heart tightened in reflex; unpleasant memories echoing back at her. And yet, despite facing her own trials, Sansa had found space in her own heart to worry for others and for herself, specifically.

Before long however, she sighed with mixed feelings as she refocused on other lines. Memories of their shared dreams in the Red Keep's gardens seemed distant, yet their bond had weathered time and turmoil. And the mere fact that Sansa was willing to give Margaery her blessing to marry her brother, the King in the North, especially after coming to learn how treacherous and manipulative royal betrothals could be in the wrong circumstances made her feel touched and honored.

For, beyond mere political implications, Margaery could all but feel Sansa's heartfelt warmth emanating from the letter, as if she was putting her hopes for a brighter future from quill to paper and was willing to trust her with them.

It was in that moment that she grimaced, however, for the Rose of Highgarden suddenly realized an unpleasant truth: she was no longer sure that she deserved a friend that could put as much trust in her as Sansa was willing to do.

Margaery swallowed as memories of real kindness mixed with manipulative instructions danced through her mind, like partners threatening step on each other to bring the pain.

"Well, my letter just contains some news and instructions from King Jon," Her grandmother suddenly said, snapping her out of her thoughts. "Apparently the Knights of the Vale managed to arrive at Ironrath just in time and are currently aiding his Grace."

The Golden Rose eyes widened slightly at such an important piece of news, the implications heavy in the air. "Then, it's true? Have the Vale lords chosen to accept Jon as their king?"

Olenna turned to look at her, the wrinkles in her face frowning in calculation as she narrowed her eyes at her ever so slightly. "Not officially, no," She replied with a huff. "Which makes sense. Baelish may be the Regent Lord of the Eyrie until his stepson comes of age, but he was never one to commit hard to any side without considering all his options and seeing what he could gain out of it. Still, riding hard in the defense of the Starks even if he arrived a little less late than Walder Frey did at the Battle of the Trident speaks volumes about his willingness to put his allegiance to the Lannisters on the Iron Throne far behind him. I am sure, he will swear some oaths in public before too long, although he will probably want to extract some promises from the new King in the North before making a show of it."

The deposed queen bit her bottom lip to suppress the reply of surprise and outrage that threatened to escape her lips as the realization sink in. But she couldn't help but seethe in silence because she at that moment it hit her that what her grandmother had said about the former Master of Coin and backstabbing, brothel owner with a terrible reputation applied to them to. After all, weren't they also trying to secceed from the Iron Throne after securing a favorable deal with the new King in the North? And so, shame added to her feelings of unease over Sansa's blessing, as Margaery felt her cheeks flush a little before she could school her expression completely.

Before Olenna's eyes could narrow further at the look on her granddaughter's face, however, Sarella put her own letter down, a smile of excitement on her face. The Queen of Thorns then turned to look at her with an arched eyebrow, her expression a mixture of curiosity and impatience.

"What's got you so animated, my dear?" Olenna asked, her voice a dry rasp. "One would think you've received a love letter."

Sarella smiled, her eyes still on the letter. "In a way, Lady Olenna, it is. And from a king, no less."

The mention of a love letter from a king shifted the atmosphere in the carriage subtly. Margaery, tilting her head slightly gave Sarella a measured look. She could just about feel her conflicting emotions simmering just beneath her composed exterior, but she held her tongue from a sharp retort.

"Oh?" Margaery inquired, her voice even but laced with an undertone of curiosity. "What does the letter say?"

Sarella's smile widened, seemingly oblivious to the slight tension. She unfolded the parchment with care and her eyes danced over the words again.

"It's about the dragon," she began, excitement evident in her voice. "King Jon has finally had the chance to read the report and suggestions I gave him regarding the naming of his Ice Dragon."

Olenna leaned back, her hand resting on the head of her cane, her expression a mask of practiced neutrality mixed with a slight curiosity. "So that is what that request of his was? Strange. He couldn’t come up with one himself?”

The daughter of the late Prince Oberyn shrugged at that. “He has been busy with things of far greater import recently. And to be fair, the Starks are not exactly best known for their choice of names or flowery words.”

“Hmmmm,” Margaery hummed until she could trust herself to speak evenly. “And pray tell, what name did you suggest?"

Sarella's eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and anticipation. The carriage continued its steady progress over the snow-dusted road as she leaned closer in her seat, the occasional crunch of wheels on icy patches providing a rhythmic backdrop to the conversation within.

"I considered many options, Lady Olenna," Sarella began, her voice animated. "I delved into the history of Targaryen dragons, looking for inspiration in the names of creatures that once soared the skies. Names like Balerion the Black Dread and Vermithor the Bronze Fury. Mighty beasts that have become legends and were known by titles forged in the fires of their deeds."

Margaery observed Sarella's enthusiasm at her successful assignment, her own feelings a complex whirlpool she dared not explore too deeply at that moment. So, she just focused on the Dornishwoman’s words.

The daughter of the second-born Prince of Dorne continued, her hands gesturing expressively. "Yet, none of those names seemed to capture the essence of our King's new companion. This dragon, this magnificent creature of ice and power, needed a name that would echo its uniqueness and also pay homage to King Jon's journey."

Olenna's gaze remained keenly fixed on Sarella, an she could tell that her grandmother’s sharp eyes were missing little. "Go on," She prompted, her voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity now.

"I learned that some soldiers from the Riverlands had also taken to calling her 'The Frostmourne', a name King Jon initially found too aggressive on its own at the time," Sarella explained, her words flowing with an engaging mummer’s cadence. "However, considering how names and titles like 'The Black Dread' were used in the past to describe dragons, it occurred to me that such a title could also find a place alongside a proper name."

The interior of the carriage was filled with a thoughtful silence as Sarella paused, gathering her thoughts. Margaery's mind raced ahead, pondering what suggestion had won the King's approval.

"I suggested the name 'Snowfyre, the Frostmourne'," Sarella finally revealed, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. "Snow, to honor King Jon's Northern heritage, his pre-legitimized past, and the icy nature of the dragon. And Fyre because some of the older Targaryen dragons had that word added to their names, such as Dreamfyre. Between that, and the historical precedent found in the name of House Blackfyre, the last branch of House Targaryen that tried to push their claim to kingship starting with Daemon, a Targaryen bastard of King Aegon IVth, I thought that together, they balanced each other beautifully and with more than enough symbolic and historical sense."

A moment of silence followed her revelation. Even Bellegere Otherys had turned up from her own letter to look at her long-lost but now found cousin from Dorne, but she remained quiet. Olenna was the first to break it, a slight smile tugging at her lips. "A clever concoction, I suppose. Snow for his Stark roots and Fyre to hint at the dragon's duality. You've given it much thought."

Sarella paused for a moment, as if she was surprised to hear the open compliment but she soon beamed under the praise. "Thank you, Lady Olenna. King Jon has decided to use the name. He wrote to express his appreciation for the suggestion. And ridden dragons tend to be remembered by history so I am proud to have had a part in it and for the books yet to be written."

Margaery took a deep breath before giving the chosen advisor of her new king a serene smile. "Your ingenuity does you credit, Sarella," She said simply.

With that, she looked out the window as the carriage rolled on, the landscape outside a blur of white and the bare branches of the winter-touched trees. And soon, she sighed, unused to feeling in such a way.

Then she thought of Sansa again and how much they had grown to care for each other. So, she smiled as the winds of winter buffeted her face and decided to focus on that.

A/N: Well, that's it for now. The beginning may have started as a bit of a recap, I will admit, but to be fair, it has been quite a while.

Thank you once again for your continued support. Please leave a comment if you liked it and if you have any questions feel free to shoot.