When Violet and Jon returned to Winterfell, they hadn't expected to greet the face of someone Violet and Sansa had not seen in quite some time. Olenna Tyrell and several soldiers serving as her personal guard were seated beside her when Violet walked through the doors of the dining hall. She was in a long black gown, and black bear furs covering her older frame. A black veil circled her head like a crown. She was clearly a woman in mourning.
"Lady Olenna." Violet greeted with a nod of her head. "You've traveled quite a way."
"Indeed." Olenna responded, she coughed lowly to clear her raspy voice, and took a sip of wine that was on the table in front of her. Her frail voice gave away how old she had truly become, however Violet knew she was anything but fragile. "I had one final trip in me."
"I am so very sorry for your losses, Lady Olenna." Violet spoke gently, stepping closer to the older woman.
"Cersei Lannister ripped a future away from me. She murdered my son, grandson, and my dear granddaughter Margaery." Olenna paused and took a deep swallow of her wine. "There was only one person on my mind, who could help me seek the revenge I so very clearly deserve."
Violet sighed as she had wanted the same revenge for quite some time, and yet it still felt so far away from possibility. "I'm afraid you've arrived on a rather inauspicious day, as I am not in a favorable position at the moment to help you."
"But you are." A voice called out from behind them. Violet and Jon whipped around to see Bran, perched in his chair with a shawl strewn across his lap. He had grown favorably since the pair had last seen him, his raven locks of hair almost covered his eyes which matched the color of the night sky. Stubble could be seen growing across his chin, and his boy-like wonder had been lost – a man sat in his place.
"Bran," Jon breathed out before rushing across the great hall to pull his brother into his arms. Bran stoically kept his eyes on Violet through the entire encounter with his brother, and it was something that unnerved Violet to no end.
"You look well." Violet smiled, ruffling the top of his hair.
"You're exactly where you're supposed to be." Bran mumbled, his large brown eyes peering into Violet's soul.
"What are you talking about?" She asked in confusion.
"He does that sometimes." It was only then that Violet and Jon noticed Sam, he was the one who had wheeled Bran into the room. "It's like he speaks in riddles."
"I've told you why, Sam." Said Bran, eyes never leaving Violet. "The night king is close. He will be here in two months."
"How do you know this, Bran?" Jon asked, his hand subconsciously hovering over the hilt of his sword.
"I am the three-eyed raven. I have seen everything that ever was or will be. I can see the night king marching beyond the wall." Brans eyes finally moved to look at his brother. "I saw your brothers betray you, and stab you in the heart."
Jon's eyes widened and he looked up to Violet, the only person in the room who knew about what happened at Castle Black. "And I saw you sentence them all to death." Bran's eyes shifted back to Violet.
"If what you're saying is true, then how am I able to help Lady Olenna? Dany is refusing to help me, and the men here are still recovering from retaking Winterfell. We aren't ready, not even a little bit." Violet was growing increasingly frustrated at the helpless feeling burying itself in her gut. She wanted to help Olenna, the Gods know she did, but she just couldn't. Cersei Lannister was not her main priority at that moment.
"Because, you're exactly where you're supposed to be."
~
"We've been staring at this bloody map for hours." Violet growled, knocking over several wooden pieces that simulated armies on a board. Arya, was laying on the table half asleep – her arm was dangling over the edge and gently playing with Ghost's fur. Jon was pacing around the room, occasionally having a conversation with Tormund who was eating in the corner of the room. Sansa had tried thinking of a strategy, yet nothing was coming to mind.
They were given enough warning to prepare the people they had, but not enough time to acquire any more – even with the new addition of the Tyrell army. So much of Westeros was still under Cersei's thumb, and would surely not help them, regardless of the fact that their own lives were in grave danger. And Violet had hoped Dany would have arrived within that time, admitting she was wrong about the entire argument and was going to fight on their side – they had no such luck.
Now they were a week away from the night king's arrival, and they had nothing.
One dragon. Six thousand men. One dire-wolf. One Queen. And way too many odds stacked against them.
"Bran still won't tell us anything. What the bloody hell is the point of seeing the future if you can't help those in the past?" Jon growled, leaning against the table.
Arya snorted at his observation. "We fight, Jon. That's all we can do."
"Violet, Jon!" Sam came crashing into the room, with Gilly at his side. "You've got to come see this!"
Violet couldn't believe what she was seeing. She had no idea how it was even possible that he knew to come. And yet, the Dornish ten thousand manned army was slowly ascending upon the Winterfell gates. Their golden armor, and matching sigils could be seen even far away in the billowing snow.
Violet was quick to mount a horse and dart out of the gates, Jon trying and failing at keeping up with her pace. Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand were both marching ahead of everyone else, both looking thoroughly annoyed at the winter weather that surrounded them.
"How is this even possible?" Violet asked, following the pairs lead in leaping off her stag. She walked into the open arms of Oberyn, before Ellaria soon placed a deep kiss on her lips.
"If I'm going to die fighting an army of dead men, I was going to kiss those beautiful lips of yours at least once before I go." Ellaria responded, with a shrug of her shoulders.
Violet was so excited at their arrival, she didn't even fight Ellaria's advances on her. The woman was quite a beauty – Violet couldn't argue that. So she gave the woman exactly what she wanted, cupping her face along her darkened skin and sliding her tongue easily into her wanting mouth. If death becomes them soon enough, there would be no regrets between them.
"And now you can say you were kissed by a Queen." Smirked Violet, pulling away to face Jon's shocked face who arrived at the scene, and a smiling Oberyn.
"We received a letter from Tyrion and Vary's, requesting our support in your sisters claim to the throne. They may have subtly mentioned you also had your own claim and were in need of assistance in Winterfell." Oberyn told her.
"Dorne might be quite a way away, but the dead will still find it if Westeros falls." Ellaria added. "We don't want to hide away on a little island while our people fight for us."
"Which is why we told Tyrion we already had a Queen, and we have chosen to fight beside her." Oberyn pointed his spear in her direction.
Violet's eyes misted as she tossed her arms once again around Oberyn. Since the pair met, there was an unspoken connection instantly, and Violet cherished his friendship deeply. Maybe it had to do with their familial history, but there was a bond there that they couldn't deny.
"You will never know how much this means to us," Violet told them, motioning her hand to the castle behind them.
"Saving the country you live in seems like a simple decision to me." Oberyn smirked.
"Oh, this is my best friend, Jon Snow. Jon, this is Oberyn Martell, Prince of Dorne. And his lover, Ellaria Sand." Violet introduced them.
"Oh, I love your curly hair." Ellaria gushed, reaching forward to run her fingers through Jon's raven locks. His eyes widened, and he shifted on his heels uncomfortably.
"Come on lover, the Northerners are not as free as we are in Dorne." Oberyn mumbled, pulling Ellaria away from Jon. "I presume you have brothels in the North."
"We do." Jon was the one to answer. "It's pretty full, everyone thinking they're about to die and all."
"We can squeeze in somewhere." Ellaria told Oberyn, pulling him back to mount his horse, the pair riding off quickly through the gates of Winterfell. Violet smiled for the first time since Bran arrived with the news the night king was closer than they realized.
"You never did tell me how you became close with a Prince of Dorne." Jon grumbled, his hands resting on his hips. The snow was falling into his dark hair, causing it to stick to his icy pale skin.
"The same as most of them go. Revenge." Violet responded with a shrug.
"That isn't true now though." Said Jon.
The pair mounted their own horses before beginning their journey back to the castle.
Their fight to come was no longer about revenge. It was about survival. And there was no way everyone was coming out alive.