iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 624 Winterfell 3
Out of politeness, should I appropriately express my regret, even though my true feeling is one of immense relief...?

Tyrion shrugged. "Well, charming lady, why do you want to see me?"

After a pause, Melisandre told Tyrion directly: "I know who is helping Stannis. I saw it in the flames—a three-eyed raven."

Three-eyed raven?

Tyrion instantly recalled various legends he had read before. If these were true, they would explain why Stannis was able to monitor the enemy army's every move.

White Walkers, dragons, green prophets...

What else might happen?
One by one, legendary beings are appearing in the world, seemingly foreshadowing the darkness that is about to descend upon this world...

Tyrion suddenly felt ridiculous. Faced with so many unknown and terrifying forces, how could he, a dwarf, possibly dream of becoming a hero who would save the world?!
Even he wanted to laugh at himself.

……

His cheeks burning, Tyrion snapped back to reality and saw the witch gently stroking his cheek. She smiled at him and said, "You seem to be afraid?"

Tyrion wisely and naturally avoided the witch's alluring touch, and said with a grin, "Lady, you have sharp eyes; dwarfs are naturally cowardly."

"No, you are not cowardly, but much braver than most people."

Melisandre smiled slightly from her fiery red lips: "All men must die; death is not the end."

Tyrion shrank back slightly in an exaggerated manner, and said with a smile, "If I had a choice, I would like to live longer."

Yes, it's all up to your choice.

Melissa pointed her slender finger, and the flames in the brazier suddenly rose, casting shadows on her beautiful face with the flickering firelight.

Her gaze returned to Tyrion, and she parted her red lips slightly: "You can choose to die, or you can choose to live."

The atmosphere suddenly became heavy. Sir Bronn reached for the dagger tucked at his waist and watched the witch warily.

Tyrion broke the silence, grinning. "Beautiful lady, most people prefer to talk amicably."

Upon hearing this, Melisandre chuckled and said, "My dear little lion, I never expected you to enjoy gambling."

She glanced briefly in Bronn's direction and whispered to Tyrion, "He'll be engulfed in flames before he pulls out his dagger. Want to see it?"

Her red eyes were captivating yet dangerous: "The night is dark and treacherous. Whether you live or die is up to you."

Tyrion's smile had long since vanished. As he and the witch locked eyes, Bronn's voice suddenly rang out: "My lady, I don't really know him. Yes, I'm referring to that little dwarf in front of you."

As Bronn finished speaking, Tyrion clutched his chest in anguish.

Melisandre glanced at the two misbehaving men and couldn't help but smile. "Very well, your loyal guards have made the choice for you."

Tyrion clumsily climbed off the chair, his limping steps much more agile than usual, and brought a new goblet to pour wine for the witch.

His expression was extremely obsequious: "Being born a dwarf is the only choice. Noble lady, if there is anything I can do to serve you, I am at your beck and call."

Melisandre slightly raised her beautifully curved chin, took a sip of wine, and slowly curved her lips into a smile: "It's simple, I need you to escort me to Winterfell, and I want to leave as soon as possible."

Winterfell?

After a moment's hesitation, Tyrion asked with some surprise, "You're going to see His Majesty Grin?"

Melisandre nodded slightly: "That's right, it was you who introduced us."

Tyrion actually preferred to meet Green after he had made enough contributions, and to minimize the number of times he would meet him face to face.

Tyrion didn't want to relive that feeling of being held in someone's palm and toyed with at will.

If they had met earlier, what merits would he have to offer at this point?
They barely managed to save Donghaiwang, and it was still the Giant race.

As for the possibility of breaking the alliance between the Starks and Stannis (Chapter 370), Tyrion knew that he had indeed done his part, but it was far less than Stannis's own contribution.

Tyrion forced a smile; he should have gotten used to it by now—lowly dwarves had always been forced to make choices. "I am honored to comply with your wishes."

"Maybe I'll hear news about Tessa," the dwarf optimistically consoled his sensitive and fragile heart...

……

next morning.

As Lord Eddard Stark stood before the map, frowning in thought, Ser Roderick Caesar entered the tent.

"Lord Ned, they have left."

Duke Ed's gaze remained fixed: "Where are the escorts?"

Sir Rodrik also came to the map, nodded, and said, "I have arranged a troop of cavalry, all of whom are skilled hunters."

Duke Eddard nodded slightly, and after a moment of silence, he roughly circled the location of the land grant on the map with his finger, then suddenly said, "Stannis is too quiet."

Ser Roderick glanced at the map: "Perhaps it was Rose's reinforcements that forced Stannis to retreat, my lord."

"It's possible."

A sharp glint flashed in Eddard's eyes: "It's also possible that they're waiting for the Starks and Tyrell's next move."

After a pause, Ser Rodrik hesitated and said, "My lord, is the dwarf trustworthy? Although he is a member of the Night's Watch, he is still of Lannister blood."

After a pause, he continued, "He offered to reveal Tyrell's plot to kill us and Stannis. I really can't guess why he was so kind."

After another moment of silence, Duke Eddard stared at the location of the Wall: "Not only the North, but the entire Seven Kingdoms share a common final enemy."

.........

.........

The leaden-gray clouds pressed heavily on the sky, as if an even bigger snowstorm could fall at any moment.

The biting wind, carrying ice shards, swept across the towering towers of Winterfell like thousands of sharp ice blades, condensing into glistening frost flowers between every stone, draping the ancient and sturdy castle in a layer of silvery-white ice armor.

In the square behind the city gate, the cold air seemed to have materialized, relentlessly penetrating everyone's body.

Lady Caitlin, standing at the very front, instinctively wrapped her heavy fur cloak tighter around herself. Her breath quickly condensed into tiny ice crystals in front of her, disappearing in an instant.

Sansa and Rickon, standing on either side of her, unconsciously pulled their cloaks tighter, their youthful faces occasionally showing tension and unease.

The lords and knights of the North behind them stood solemnly in the snow, the cold wind whipping up fine snowflakes that quietly covered them with a thin layer of white frost.

Woo-woo-woo-woo

As more morning light pierced through the clouds, a deep and long horn sounded, followed by the sound of horses' hooves approaching from afar, making the ground tremble.

Marigold banners and three-headed dragon banners fluttered in the wind, and silver armor gleamed with a cold light in the morning sun, contrasting sharply with the blue cloak.

The king's procession surged through the gates of Winterfell like a turbulent river of silver and blue.

His cloak billowed wildly in the cold wind as Green rode at the head of the procession, surrounded by the Kingsguard.

With a clear neigh, Green stopped his horse and turned his gaze to the waiting crowd.

In an instant, the surroundings fell into a temporary silence, with only the howling cold wind sweeping through the city.

"Welcome, Your Majesty."

Lady Caitlin, along with her children and the people of the North, slowly knelt down in the direction of Green.

(End of this chapter)