Queen of North

You'll die tonight, My King

For a moment, Valarr was sitting on the ground, tears rolling over his face. Yet a strong angry and wicked yell left from the deepest parts of his lungs. He didn't try to even open heavy door, it was useless. The only thing he did, was that he looked up and observed statue in front of him. "What are you staring at, whoever the fuck you are," he spat toward it and brushed his face with palms right after with desperate grunt.

"Do you need help.." a man behind him talked as he stood there watching him. The man roamed his eyes on Valarr and seemed to try to find words to describe his condition. ".. your Grace?" He adds and his voice it's so deep and cold that the echo brought pain in the head of the King.

Valarr tried to stand up, but failed. He felt like trapped, like animal held by beast. His attempt to escape at lest few steps ended by his fall on the ground. "Who are you?" He yelled with horror in his voice, staring at man.

"Your guide through the darkness.. your Grace." The respond and eyes unblinkingly focused on Valarr. He didn't attend to persuade him,he wasn't able to take his feet so he stood there waiting for him to find strength and approach. "You look terrible." He noticed and his voice seem more humanlike.

Heavily breathing, his eyes flicking like crazy, he stood up after a while. Slowly. Valarr took few steps toward him. "I don't need a guide in the darkness. I am Valarr Nightborn."

"If you say so.." the man unimpressed by his representation took a lighting torch and turn his back slowly walking through the deepest parts of the tombs corridors. "Welcome to my house, Valarr Nightborn." He spoke after a while and his voice made his bone shiver. "The Nightborn who was born on the brightest night with the brightest stars and the bigger moon men ever saw."  His voice lurking on his mind like a threat when the man stopped his feet so did the King. "The darkness you were born is nothing to this. Cause the night here, your Grace,is endless and dark and full of terrors." Valarr could here his breath on the back of his neck although the man was standing before him.

The man turn around to face Valarr. The light from the torch was brushing his face smoothly showing his age and purity of his eyes. "Look on your right." The man tells him and Valarr was standing to face a statue of Jon. That was his grave. Jon was dead.

"What's this?" He murmured under his breath. "That's nonsense! He just left. I just saw him leaving!" He rose his voice, feeling his core shaking.

The man didn't answer to him,a cold glare was everything he needs to confirm his fears. He kept walking slowly and steadily. "No affection for the man who stood by your side many times. No tear." He man says and with his last words he stop his feet once again to share the light on another statue, another grave. "Do you recognize her?" He asked him holding his position.

Valarr was staring at man, with confusion and anger in his eyes, trying to think what was happening, but in a moment he turned to see the statue, blood froze in his veins. "Elaine," he whispered in shaking voice. In voice barely audible, yet it broke. "This is just a dream. I have to wake up!" He murmured, closing his eyes, so he faced the statue of his sister with tears in his eyes in the moment he opened them again.

"The blossom of the house Targeryan." He mentions turning again his back returning on the slow walked path. "The promising life she never lived because her brother wasn't merciful enough to spear his own blood. The part of his heart." He said and Valarr heard Aenar's voice instead of the man. "But the murderer shared a tear." His cold voice returned. "Share the sorrow."  And his steps halts again on the next one. The grave of Daemon. "The wise brother." He said turning to face the shaking and sobbing King showing no sympathy at all. "The one who was more than a brother. He was a father and mother and shield yet you broke him."