Silver Stag

Preparations For Final Stand

"What are you working on?" he asked, crossing the room to stand beside her.

Aelinor set down her tools and turned to him, a small smile on her lips. "I was just trying my hand at some ancient Valyrian runes," she said. "Our ancestors believed in the power of these symbols, and they would often carry them into battle to bring strength and protection."

Daemon leaned in, fascinated by the intricate designs she had carved so far. "These must have been important to them," he said.

Aelinor nodded. "They were. The runes were believed to hold great magic, and those who possessed them could wield powerful spells. Our family has alwys held onto this tradition, passing down the knowledge from generation to generation."

Daemon reached out a hand to touch one of the runes, feeling a strange energy emanating from it. "Do you think they still work?" he asked, looking at Aelinor with curiosity.

She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I don't know for sure, but I believe they can still hold power. Perhaps we should try using one or two in our next battle."

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting we use magical runes in combat?"

Aelinor grinned. "Why not? It might give us an edge against our enemies."

Daemon couldn't help but laugh at her determination. "You nevr cease to amaze me, my love," he said, pulling her into a kiss. "Let's see if we can find more information on these runes, and maybe we can put them to good use."

She picked up her tool again, and began carving with renewed purpose. Daemon watched her in silence for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully. He knew better than anyone how much these ancient traditions meant to Aelinor, and he respected her dedication to them. She had the heart of a dragon. There was no denying it. She simply knew when to use it and when to allow others to underestimate her.

[King's Landing - Courtyard]

As the Northmen, the Unsullied, the Dothraki, the Velaryon, the Martells, the Lannisters soldiers, and the Vale knights gathered around Jon Snow, they knew that the stakes were high. The threat of the Night King loomed large over them all, and they needed to come up with a solid plan to defeat him before it was too late.

"We cannot meet in the open," one of the Northerners said, his voice low and urgent. "It would be far too dangerous. We need to find another way."

Jon Snow nodded in agreement. He had been thinking the same thing himself. "I think we could learn from Dorne's playbook on this one," he suggested. "Why don't we pretend not to be here when they arrive? Let them think we're elsewhere, and then launch a surprise attack when they least expect it?"

The others looked at each other thoughtfully, considering the proposal. It was risky, but it just might work.

"What do you think, Tyrion?" Daenerys asked, turning to her trusted advisor. "Do you have any ideas how we could make this work?"

Tyrion rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I have a few ideas," he said slowly. "Wildfire. It's our only hope. We can use it to clear a path through the undead hordes and gain ground."

Wildfire was a powerful and dangerous substance, one that had been used in the pasr to defend King's Landing from invaders. But it was also unpredictable, and its use came with a high risk of casualties.

"Do you know how many lives we would lose?" Ser Davos asked, his voice heavy with concern. "The wildfire could consume everything within miles."

There were murmurs of agreement among the assembled nobles and soldiers, but one figure remained silent. Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons, looked troubled by the suggestion.