Aeyma was not sure if she should be content or petrified, sitting atop a horse of bones and decaying flesh. Craster was nearly upon her, talking of warming cold winter beds and fresh blood to add to the family when a sword thrust itself into his spine. He had gurgled up a mouthful of blood that dribbled from his chin before collapsing to the floor, revealing an Other in his wake. The blue-skinned being held out a hand to her and with a grip as cold as ice, helped her to her feet. There were a handful of them, sending the daughter-wives into dark corners, given away by whimpers of fear. She thought of comforting them, telling them they were safe now, but the words seemed hollow before they even left her lips, so she said nothing.

Instead she allowed herself to be led to the dead steed and mounted it, studying the Others as one wrapped Craster's cloak around her shoulders to keep her warm, she was not fire made flesh as her mistress was, after all. She had studied magic her entire life, groomed by the High Priestess since birth to fulfill the pact, to ensure that Lady Rhaenys reached her betrothed, that they were wedded and bedded so magic could be strong again. It was fading, all those with the gift knew it, where their ancestors could summon flames with a thought, they could only get a spark with the death of another. But there was power in a king's blood, much more than a commoner, so when Rhaegar bled, Aeyma tore a piece of his bloodied shirt from him, kept it clutched to her chest, wondered if she could do what must be done, what the Lord of Light expected of her.

She prayed for most of the ride to where her mistress waited for her, eyes closed and shivering in the cold as snow beat down upon them, raging even more so the closer they got to the rotted castle of the Night King. The blizzard rained down upon her yet she felt a sudden shower of warmth, as though a beam of sun had been aimed right at her, so she opened her eyes and stifled a gasp. The horses, the undead men upon them, even the castle, was cloaked in a bright blue glow, twisting and turning like blood pumping through a heart, magic visible before her eyes. One of the Others raised a fist into the air and she could not help but watch in awe as a tendril of icy magic flew into the air, invisible to all but her but felt by all nonetheless, a pulse reverberating through the air, followed by a lighter one made visible by a darker bolt of blue, a response, a welcome. When they entered into the keep of the castle, Rhaenys was descending down the stairs, a palpable look of relief to see a familiar face.

But all Aeyma could focus on was the air around her Lady, she was...glowing, not an inch of flesh without the bright red aura of magic, stretching out behind her, reaching towards something, no, someone. When Aeyma saw the Night King, she knew the Lord of Light had answered her prayers, for he had the same glow as Rhaenys, only a dark blue, which stretched out longingly towards Rhaenys, seemingly begging to mix the red and blue together.

"Your eyes have been opened." The scratchy voice of the Night King commented and she quickly fell onto her knees in submission and humility.

"I...I-I, yes, your grace." Unsure of what to say or how to even address him, she simply bowed her head. Her purpose would be fulfilled soon.

A/N:

Short chapter, wanted to dip into Aeyma's head a bit to show why she's in the story as well as how she fits. If you remember from previous chapters, she's from Assaih, the land of blood magic. Please review! Also, would it be better if I replied to reviews? I know other authors do but I wasn't sure if with my fics it'd be cool or annoying.