Rhaenar's heart beat in her ears as her breathing became all she could hear, the plume of smoke barely catching up as her shoulders rose and fell. He was here, standing at the other side of the courtyard. Her feet moved before her mind could connect, her hands instantly reaching out as he swept her into a tight embrace, pulling her from the floor. "I thought you had changed your mind." She said so softly, it was hard to tell she'd spoken at all above the noise of the courtyard.
"We'd run into some complications, we aren't used to the snow." Oberyn teased gently, running his hand over her back. "What are you wearing? Why do you look so bland?" He asked, setting her back to the floor as he gazed at the plain coat, his finger pulling at the braidless hair. There were no silver dragons adorning her, no white fur of a coat, or jewellery upon her skin; she was only in a dark coat, boots, and breeches. Why was his Dragon Princess?
Rhae giggled, shaking her head as she clutched his hand, taking it into her own as she held it in front of her. "The North don't like it."
"The North can find somewhere to shov-." His voice stopped as he looked to his left, seeing Jon stand to the side. "This is the one we came up here for?" The dark eyes looked on quizzingly, his brows dropping lower.
She tugged his hand, drawing his attention back to her as she smirked. "If you don't mind, we're here for a reason."
He nodded, eyes flickering back. "I can see that, but him?" He grimaced, eyes darting over him. "He's so... Dismal." Rhaenar was sure a stream of words were crossing his mind, his tongue holding as Oberyn's continued to flicker over Jon. He didn't seem pleased. "And why is it so cold up here? No wonder the Northmen are solemn. I feel like my balls are going to freeze off."
Rhaenar smiled, before taking his arm in hers and leading him towards Jon. "Believe me, it only gets worse." Oberyn glanced down at her, Rhae paying no mind as she stood just shy of Jon, a wide grin on a bright face. "Jon!" She called out, her twin turning to face her with a stormy expression as his brow dipped, the grey dragging up to Oberyn. "This is Prince Oberyn, from Dorne."
Oberyn's hand shot out, as did Jon's before they shook. "Are you the last?" He asked, his expression not lifting.
"Yes. There's no others on the King's Road." Oberyn confirmed, Rhae set back by Jon's peculiar attitude; Oberyn looking as equally confused at his coldness. Rhae had dealt with her fair share of awkward greetings in the North, of brisk attitudes and chilled expressions, but never from Jon.
Jon's hand shot out, waving. "Begin the preparations for an attack!" He called out, surprising everyone in the courtyard as all eyes turned to him. "The Night King is coming, we only have until tomorrow daylight." It set off a panic in the air as Oberyn's hand tightened on Rhae's, drawing her closer. "Anyone who is not here, won't be here. Any of the vulnerable who have not yet left the castle, will need to remain here." He looked cold as he turned to Tormund, his wildling nodding. "Close the front gates! The only entrances that will be used at the small doors!"
The war had begun, the Night King was coming, and ice had slipped into Rhaenar's blood as she swallowed thickly. They'd face him soon, she'd look into his cold blue eyes once more, and be expected to fight against those who followed. It brought her to the spot in fear, a shiver threatening her spine as ever so gently a panic settled inside. Rhaenar wouldn't show it to her men, but she feared the Night King - of his powers, of what he can do.
People began to bustle around her, moving faster now to begin to distribute the weapons as Rhaenar straightened her back. This was the time where she needed to focus on keeping the men around her safe, not on the panic that coursed through her veins. "What do you want me to do?" She asked, her eyes looking to Jon who stood before her.
"Start rounding up your men, let them know they need to be kitted up, have their weapons, and be prepared to move out. We'll gather in a war meeting tonight." Rhaenar nodded, her mind ticking at what to do. She had to make her way through campt to speak with them all, inform them; although, by now they would have heard Jon's warning, and seen men jostling around; they needed to know what to expect.
She stepped away from the King in the North, Oberyn hot on her heels as she crossed through the main entrance of Winterfell, seeing the Northernmen and the few Houses that sat in the centre all turn to her, questioning in their gaze. Rhae hesitated as she glanced around, meeting them all. "You heard the King! Begin moving to your stations, consult your commanders; they know the plans!" She cried out, keeping strong as she walked through. "Anyone who isn't sure where they are, consult me; I will be on the field talking to my own commanders."
Rhaenar couldn't hang about waiting for them to place down their bowls or to fumble for weapons, she needed to find people. "Where do you expect me to be?" Oberyn asked, his snakeskin curled boots digging into the snow beneath them as they slipped out.
"You'll be at the south of the castle with the Reach's army, along with men from the Crownlands and Stormlands; Ser Barristan will be the main commander down there. Any problems or trouble, rely on his knowledge." Rhae remembered. "And Meria will also be there."
His head turned, glancing down. "I've brought my eldest with me, they're along the army checking them over." It surprised her to hear that Oberyn had bought his children along, she thought he would want them safe.
"And your youngest girls?" Rhae questioned.
He smiled. "With Willas, driving him in circles apparently." Rhae let a giggle bubble from her lips, her eyes warming at the thought. "Elia's with the horses; Obella, Dorea, and Loreza are in the gardens." Good, they were so far from the danger, and if anything went wrong here they'd have a chance to flee.
"You have four others? No?" Meria she knew about, and Obara; but she was unsure on the other two; the names must have slipped her mind.
"Sarella and Tyene; Sarella is good with medicine, and Tyene is strong with poison. Both able to hold themselves in the field." He explained, his eyes drifting over the lands in front of them. Armies of all sizes and sigils stood before him, no mistake which house was which as they stuck to their Kingdoms Overlord. She could see the metres of defenses that surrounded Winterfell, the sharp pykes and trenches that had been built.
Rhaenar should search for the small team responsible for the dam, see if they were having any luck or if they required something more... powerful. "Why have you changed for them?" Oberyn asked, seeing her move between bodies.
She spared a glance back, an eyebrow raised. "Changed? I haven't changed." Rhaenar hadn't changed, not for anyone. She was doing her job, and she had to make sacrifices.
"Look at your clothes Rhae, look at the looks that surround us." And she looked, seeing the looks of discontent and anger despite being so fraught with fear. "You have never been so plain."
She huffed. "Like I said, you'll get used to it." The North wasn't welcoming, to anyone. Oberyn reached out, a hot hand locking around a sizzling wrist as he turned her to face him, dark eyes boring down.
"Tell me." He urged; Rhae pulling at her arm to free it but he refused, only tightening his grip.
"They don't trust outsiders, no matter who they are. I'm just trying to improve relations." She relented, back slumping as the weight of it all crashed over her; at the judgement that seemed to pass around her at every little thing. "They're important to me, even if I'm not to them."
Oberyn sighed, watching as the indigo turned inky. "Are they that important that you'll let them walk all over you?" Would she? Would she bow down to their demands just because this was Jon's home, the place her mother had spent almost all of her life.
"My kindness only goes so far; I've already overstepped my place with Sansa." She admitted, thinking to earlier. She was a fool for being harsh, but Rhaenar felt that Sansa needed to hear it.
He rose a brow. "Sansa?"
"The Lady of Winterfell, the voice of the Northmen apparently." With a grumble, Rhaenar's voice lowered, disappearing entirely as the indigo darted around them. She couldn't speak too loudly, with the number of ears that surrounded her. "She doesn't like me very much."
"What makes you say that?" All Oberyn remembered of Sansa was that timid girl sat at Joffrey's wedding table, publicly humiliated and blamed for his death. How could she have gone from that to a Lady of Winterfell all while disrespecting the future Queen of Westeros?
Her eyes searched out as she resumed walking, dragging Oberyn along with her. "It's little comments, little things that have been happening..." Leaving before Rhaenar, the frostiness, thinking she was better than all those around her; to name but a few. "And we had a falling out earlier, I was rather harsh."
That must have been something to see, he thought, smirking slightly. "You? Rather harsh?"
Her lips quirked, not ready for a smile but enough to see the amusement. Rhaenar had grown harder these past few years, she's not as soft as she once was. "I opened her eyes to the reality of being a Queen, of being responsible for so many people. She seems to believe that the North should be independent - and she's not alone in believing it, but the way she speaks..." Rhae hesitated, her eyes glancing up to meet his as they huddled closer together. "She makes out that House Stark have had it worse than any other, that she won the battle of the bastards - that she doesn't need the South's help."
"And you are mad at this?" They could see the dam ahead, men working in the shallow water as they worked at the rock.
Rhaenar wasn't mad, more conflicted; between agreeance, and complete rejection of the idea that the North doesn't need the South. "I don't know. I don't know how I feel about any of this." Her tone softened. "I don't want a civil war on my hands before I've begun. Already the country is waring against the dead, before turning its eyes to the capital. If I keep pushing for what I want, and then it goes to more wars - no one will want me."
He stopped her, hands falling to her biceps as he looked into her eyes. "You should fight for what you believe in. The people will see that you only want what's best; and you know Willas and I will be by your side every step, we support you because you showed us you cared. The same way all these Houses will see that you care." His words were sweet, warming to the soul, but there still remained the doubt in her mind.
"But not the North." She affirmed. "I gave my dragon's life to get them back, I tried to form alliances with the Houses of Westeros so that we can fight this together. And what welcoming did I get?" Rhaenar was silent, her head shaking. "They stared at me in hatred because of where I come from, they stared at my men in disgust because they don't look the same as they do. What kind of people do that? What right do they have to judge people by how they look, or where they come from?"
She was growing a disgust for it, a bubble of thick molasses in her stomach the more that she thought about it. "The only excuse Jon could give me was that it's because they're the North, as though that forgives their behaviour; or that they'll eventually warm up to me." Rhaenar's arms opened wide, motioning to the field. "Do they look as though they're warming up to me?"
Oberyn sighed, reaching to wrap an arm around his shoulders. "It's hard, it's just like the Masters in Meereen. It took you a long time to get them to warm up to the idea of having and employing free men."
Her head shook. "But it took them besieging Meereen, and to use my dragons to quell them. To weaken them into submission. I don't want that here, I don't want to be labelled as a Mad Queen." It was Rhaenar's fear, to be known like her father before her, to take the wrong steps that lead to being called that nickname. "I'm fighting this uphill battle, and before long I will lose." She admitted, her voice so quiet and small as Oberyn really looked to her.
In a flash, he could see the young girl that she was; not the Queen she tried to be. She was vulnerable, and she felt weak; but most of all, she was tired. Heavy bags still sat beneath her eyes, her face still holding a slight gauntness to it. In the end, it would be who fell first. Westeros or Rhaenar. "I will be by your side, you know that. These men will always be by your side." He tried to remind her, but he knew it wasn't seeping in.
Rhae stepped away, lowering her head. "Forgive me, Prince Oberyn, but I need to check upon the men at the dam." He let her go, knowing better than to push her too far as she stumbled back towards the Dam, not even sparing a glance behind her. Rhae forced a smile to her lips as she came within distance of the freezing water, at the small defence it was to a large sprawling lake. Snow covered the banks, but treaded with mud from the men that worked upon it. "Evening." she called to them, wide eyed.
They turned, jumping in shock before standing to attention before her, Rhaenar shrugging it off with a grin. "How is it coming along? Do you need any help?"
The man she assumed was Ripley, stood half submerged in the water with an axe in hand as he turned; green eyes shining. "Forgive me, Your Grace. It's a little trickier than believed."
Her head cocked. "A little trickier? What do you mean?" Ripley motioned her over, to the edge of the banks as he ran his hand over the wood that was built there.
"This here is super wet, and several layers thick. We can't burn it, nor can we chop some of the wood without greater risk to ourselves - we'll get caught in the burst." He explained, standing back up before accessing it. "We'll need larger tools to saw it." Her brows dipped, her head nodding. "That way we can stand either side and cut across."
"How long will it take you to get it done?" It seemed like something that would take hours; and they didn't have that kind of time. "Can't you have it tugged from above?"
He nodded. "That would work but we don't have anything large enough that'll work." To tug it? The indigo swept over the wood, over the size before her head turned in thought.
"Would my dragons work?" She questioned, frowning slightly. "The wood on the inside shouldn't be wet should it? That'll go straight up?"
Ripley's shoulders shrugged. "We can try it." Rhae nodded eagerly. If the dragons could cut the time, that would work massively in their favour. "Men, start removing the outer layers." Ripley instructed, joining in as he waded through to approach the dam. They got to work as Rhaenar thought, urging Leirion to come to her as she waited at the edge. A growl rippled in the distance, a smile crossing her lips as the beat of wings echoed through the wind, drawing closer and closer as he came.
The indigo swept the sky as she spotted him, the dragon swooping through the air before landing behind her, disturbing the water with ripples as he sank to the banks, eyes on the men. They cowered, she could see it in their shoulders as their axes were more cautious to hit the wood. "Move out the way!" Ripley called out, the others rushing to the other bank as Rhaenar looked up to Leirion.
"Dracarys." She whispered. The great, big dragon rose his head high as his mouth opened; the orange climbed from his throat before thick flames shot from his mouth. They couldn't see the wood from where they were standing, the flames engulfing it fully as thick black smoke took to the air where the flames and wood met, the water sizzling in temperature.
The fire died as Leirion shook his neck, the smoke clearing. The wood was severely charred, a crisp black charcoal texture having taken to it. "Again." Ripley advised, Rhaenar nodding.
"Dracarys." She muttered, watching as Leirion repeated his actions. There was a loud crack, her eyes shifting to the others as they began to stumble back, Rhaenar following as she moved away from the bank edge. Another crack echoed before through the thick plumage of smoke, water burst, the wood taken with it.
It flooded the thin winding river that was close to drying out; rapid in its approach as it flushed through the winding terrain towards Winterfell. They'd done it, they'd broken the dam. A single hand reached up, patting Leirion with a gentle grasp as the scales felt hot beneath her palm. "You did it." She muttered, grinning up at her dragon whose white eyes stared at the water that passed. "My beautiful boy."