Silver Stag

Second Wave

But as she searched the battlefield, she found no sign of the mysterious soldier who had killed Gendry. It was as if they had vanished into thin air.

With a heavy heart, Aelinor turned back to the fight, knowing that she must protect her people and kingdom from the evil that surrounded them. For the sake of her brother and her family, she would not rest until King's Landing was safe once again.

In one of the many abandoned homes, Arya Stark slowly opened her eyes, groggily taking in her surroundings.

As she sat up, she felt a sharp pain shoot through her left arm, reminding her of the dragon fire that Drogon had spewed during her failed assassination attempt on Daenerys. A quarter of her right arm was burned and blistered.

She looked up, feeling eyes on her. She could faintly make out short blonde hair.

"Careful, my lady," a voice said from beside her. "You were gravely injured."

"Brienne?" Arya called out, her voice hoarse. "Is that you?"

Arya turned her head to see a figure appear before her, silhouetted by the faint light filtering in through the broken ceiling. It was Brienne of Tarth, her face etched with concern as she knelt beside Arya.

"Thank the Seven, you're awake," Brienne said, relief evident in her voice. "I feared for your life when I found you unconscious in the street."

Arya scowled, remembering the events that had led her here. "Did I succeed?" she asked bluntly, her mind still foggy from her injuries.

Brienne hesitated, her expression falling into one of sorrow. "No, my lady. I'm afraid not. The Dragon Queen survived your attack. Her dragon carried her away."

Arya's anger flared, hot and bitter, like bile rising in her throat. She had come so close to ending the reign of terror that had plagued Westeros for so long, only to fail miserably.

"Then I will go after Cersei," Arya declared, determination etched across her face. "She has alwys been my true target."

Brienne raised an eyebrow, concern written across her features. "My lady, please reconsider. You have already come so far, risked so much. Is it worth it for one life?"

But Arya was resolute. She had dedicated her entire existence to this quest, and nothing would stand in her way. Not even the honorable knight who stood before her.

"I must do what I was born to do," she stated firmly, her voice unwavering. "If I cannot kill Daenerys, then I will kill Cersei. It is the only way to fulfill my purpose."

Arya forced herself into a standing position, desperately trying to ignore the pain of her burn. She limped towards the door, ready to fight her way to the Red Keep.

She heard footsteps behind her meaning Brienne was following after her. Not that she expected any less.

Her burned arm ached with every step, but she refused to let it slow her down. She knew that Cersei Lannister was somewhere in the Red Keep, and Arya was determined to find her before anyone else did.

As she turned a corner, she heard footsteps behind her. At first she assumed it was Brienne, but as she continued to listen, she noticed these steps sounded lighter, as if someone was trying to conceal them.

She spun around, her dagger at the ready, but saw only darkness. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows - Bronn, his face twisted into a cruel grin.

"Well, well, well," he sneered, "look what we have here."

Arya tried to slip past him, but Bronn caught her arm, holding her fast. "I don't think so, little Stark," he growled. "You're coming with me."