From the darkness came a new. Desperation became damnation. Rune's body wilted still as her mind became black. The smells of herbs, lavender, and spices, spiked her nose. She could hear the distant chatter in the background, the sounds of two women engaging in conversation. It was uncertain what they were talking about. The conversation sounded like her head was still underwater. 

Her distant memories flashed through her mind. The storm, the forest, falling through the ice, azure eyes, getting stabbed, and death. But all of that was going to change with a single movement. 

Her fingers twitched with a slight movement. Within her hands, her joints haven't moved in a year, making a clicking sound. Once again, she wiggled her fingers. The feeling of numbness soon subsided. 

But all went silent. 

"Did you just see that?" whispered the old woman to her helper. They now stood near a table that had all of their powders. They continued to stare at the body that was on a separate table. Both were working on the arms, trying to bring the original colour back, but she was pale beyond normal. The rest of her body, up to the neck, was covered with a light bed sheet.

"There!" the older woman pointed at the corpse. Now exchanging each other an odd look, they proceeded a step forward. It was certainly bizarre to see a slight finger twitch, especially from a corpse that had been under the ice for over a year.

They halted their footsteps when they saw her move again. This time, her chest started to rise and fall. It was eccentric to see a frosted breath escape her lips. Both women now stood by her side, looking at the corpse that was now alive. One leaned in and placed her ear close to her chest. Before the women could check if there were a clear heartbeat, Rune's eyes shot open. She then jerked up in a sitting position.

Startled by the events, they both felt a stab of panic wash over them. Before they could take in the situation, both women ran out of the room screaming bloody marry. Both of the older women sprinted down the hallway of the Red Keep.

"The dead has risen! The dead has risen!" Their frightened voices alerted every servant in their path. Every woman and man didn't know how to take the situation. They stood there, watching both of them continue to scream. For all the gods know, their voices could effortlessly alert every person in Kingslanding.

When they rounded the corner, both ladies almost slammed into someone. The man quickly pivoeted his footing and moved to the side. Concerned by their actions, he stopped them in their tracks and asked them what troubled them. 

"What troubles you, ladies?" the man asks in a serene tone. Of course, he wanted to know what troubled the two. As peaceful as this day was, it was about to get a deal more compelling. After all, both women were doing their job. Then their job turned into a nightmare. Never in their sixty years of working there -- have they come across something so demonic. 

"By the gods! The dead has risen," the woman spoke. From his understanding, both women looked like they worked as morticians, just from the specific clothing choice. His smoky eyes flickered to their worried expressions. In a sense, they seemed like damsels in distress.

"We were doing our job, mainly, to get the colour back in her skin. Out of nowhere, her fingers started twitching," the woman replied in a state of panic. He nodded and gazed at the other woman, trying to hear both of their alibis. 

"What frightened us was the icy eyes and frosted breath." The description alone was enough to raise alarms in his head. He heard no such thing from the land of Westeros. The only time he's ever heard of such a description was from a book he read from the restricted section. Now he was more intrigued. 

"Where was the body found?" he questioned. If his theory is correct, Rune would be more of a endangerment to Kingstanding. But that depends on how she'll react to her new surroundings. After all, the Ice Walkers are immune to the cold, but not the heat.

"She was found in the ice, just beyond the wall and thirty miles from Castle Black. We could have sworn it was Celeste Valaryon, b-but the eyes tell different," the second woman stuttered. The man stood there for a second, gathering his thoughts. He knew Celeste, princess of the Valaryon family, had gone missing a year ago. But it fascinated him even more. If this wasn't Celeste, then who is she?

"Alright, take me to her," he commanded. Both women nodded and did a curtsy.

"Thank you, Prince Aemond," one spoke with a soft tone. Both women were relieved that a skilled Swordsman would take up the job of investigating. After all, they'd be lucky if the two ladies could slay a Pidgeon.

Aemond stood tall and proud while he walked. His black armour symbolized his role in the Targaryen family. He held his sword by his left hip when he approached the hallway that guided him to the small stone room.

The two ladies chose to stand outside and wait for Aemond to find out about their concerns. He took caution when he entered the room. But his gaze locked to a woman's gaze. Not only were the rumours true, but it's those eyes allured him even more. She had skin that was as pale as the moon and eyes that were kissed by blue stars.

Aemond was so enamoured that he didn't notice that she held the sheet up to her body for her dear life. He shook those thoughts from his head and saw how she was sitting on the side of the table. At this point, Rune didn't even know what to say. When she woke from a long sleep, she saw how both of those ladies took off running before she could ask for help. Then, the next thing you know, there's a stranger in the room with her. 

He struck her as the type of man not to be reconded with. His silver-blond, long hair told her that he was a Targaryen. But what startled Rune was the eyepatch he wore on his left eye. It informed her that he absented his eye in battle or some accident.

"Who are you?" he questioned, lowering his gaze to hers. Both had too many questions on their minds, but Rune didn't even know where she was. The thought of being frozen to death and waking up in a strange place shook her to the bone.

"It doesn't matter," she spoke. Her voice was smooth as silk, something that chimed Aemond's ears. But at the same time, he knew she would be a hard case to crack. He sensed a hint of hesitation. On the other hand, he could see that she was embarrassed and confused. It wasn't every day he saw an almost naked female who had awoken from the dead. 

"Where are you from?" he acquired another question. But in the end, Rune shook her head and dropped the question. At this point, she didn't want to be bothered with constant questions. She had questions that needed answering. 

"It doesn't matter," she spoke again, but with a solid tone. If she was trying to shake Aemond in any way, it wasn't working. At the same time, he realized how unreal the moment was.

"Alright, stand up," he motioned for her to do so. She froze in place listening to his words. Even if she tried to stand, her legs would have been jello. Rune knew she hadn't walked in a year, so the muscles and joints would have probably been weak.

"I... I can't," as much to her embarrassment, she had to admit to him that she couldn't walk. But at the same time, he realized how problematic his words were. He couldn't force her to stand, otherwise she would have already been on the floor.

"You can't walk, can you?" he stood there for a second, not knowing how long she had been frozen. Almost as if he could read Rune's mind, he stepped out of the room to address something he knew was bothering her. 

The lack of clothes.

His gaze glanced over to the anxious ladies that waited for him to return. He already took into consideration how the situation could have gone down. There could have been a fight that ended with a grave. If it weren't for his expert style in duelling and combat - - he wouldn't have made it this far. 

"She has fire but no bite. I assure you she won't fight back. Just get her something to wear and bring her to the throne room." Aemond instructed the two morticians. Meanwhile, deciding if he wanted to help Rune. There was room for doubt, but first impressions always matter. Even though Aemond knew it wasn't the best meeting, he was sure it would get better.

Or would it?

"Right away. Thank you, Prince Aemond." Both bowed and got right to work. The idea of pissing off a prince wasn't recommended. Neither was the idea of losing their jobs. They didn't want to lose their perfect score of working in the Red Keep -- ever since they both turned fifteen and started working there.

After searching through the markets that had continuous crowds of people coming and going, both women found three possible dresses that Rune could wear. Those outfits were not cheap, that's for sure.

Both women had to pay a pretty penny for all three. Just using one golden dragon coin was beyond expensive. The price of one gold dragon coin cost them eleven-thousand seven-hundred-sixty copper pennies. Even copper pennies were expensive. Luckily they got more than three-quarters of their money back in exchange.

* * * *

"Firstly, I would like you to recall your recent memories," King Viserys spoke with a soft but assertive tone. There, she sat, under a ceiling of a dignifying throne room. Above her, the ceiling reached so high it almost touched the sky. A couple of feet behind her, two wooden double doors and a stone floor accompany the look of an old throne room. In front of her, a set of stone stairs led up to the Iron throne that contained a thousand swords. Behind the throne was a substantial arch window that reached high towards the ceiling. On both sides of the arch window hung two large, black banners with a circular, crimson, three-headed dragon symbol centred in the middle.

"Anything you can remember can help me conclude my decision to release you," Viserys told her. Rune sat in a chair across from him. She remained silent for a moment to recall her recent memories of being in the ice for a year. She finally came to a small conclusion of memories she wanted to explain, but each of them was faint.

"My father Borros Baratheon sent my brother and I on a journey to venture beyond the wall," she tried to recall why he sent her and Demetris beyond the wall. Her story was already starting to sound unusual to Viserys. He found it strange that Borros sent two out of five of his children on a dangerous task.

"Our task was to find out if the rumours were true. . ." she trailed off, remembering those same blue eyes that she saw a year ago. It was clear as day. There was no way she couldn't remember those eyes, the eyes of the Night King.

"And what were those rumours?" Viserys asked. Rune's ice blue eyes ventured from the floor to his brown ones. Her eyes gave him a hint of what those rumours could have been. There was no doubt about that. Her gaze reminded him of the stories he read to his children. The good. The bad and the uncertain. Each of those legends proved either false or entirely made up, but it wasn't until this moment she proved them all wrong.

"The White Walker," she told him. At the moment, nothing felt real. Resurrection, having a change in appearance, and now talking to The Protector of the Relm. Each of those things, including breathing, didn't feel real. Still, to this moment, Viserys had a hard time processing a White Walker being in his presence. More importantly, how is she not feral yet?

"From there, it gets a little foggy," she told him. Viserys nodded and leaned his head back. His long, silver-blond hair continued; to drape perfectly over his shoulders.

"I remember the piercing cold winds and a veil of snow. That's when I knew; I wasn't going to make it. I lost my brother in the storm while crossing over a lake. Before I knew it, I went through the ice like a knife. Then I was drowning. The last thing I saw was; the Night King before I felt death's embrace," she continued to stare at the stone flooring. She felt her stomach toss and turn. As sickening as it was to re-live a flock of memories of dying, she still needed to explain it to him. At the same time, when she continued to explain this to him, Viserys's eyes wandered to the arms of the chair. He noticed the colour of the chair started to discolour and freeze.

Although she still didn't notice, it was still uncertain what she was capable of. But she didn't look sickly or dead. Her skin didn't look like rotting rubber. She almost looked like a porcelain doll. Even Aemond noticed...

It wasn't until a second later that Viserys noted Aemond's presence. His son had sly movements that almost agitated him. He was so silent; his actions proved to be surprising. After all, Viserys knew Aemond's life as a young boy wasn't arcadian. He continued lean against one of the many stone pillars. As if Veiserys would let Aemond walk away without a bit of justice. After all, he told his son; not to disturb or come in without his consent or goodwill. The meeting was supposed to be privet rather than a public one. This one would be for the books; a meeting between a Targaryen and a Baratheon that was now one of the Night King's followers.

"I couldn't imagine what you went through. . ." Viserys motioned his hand towards Rune, looking for a first name. He was still uncertain who she was, even though it remained a mystery.

"Rune. My name is; Rune," she spoke with a soft tone. She still couldn't wrap her head around everything that had happened. But she chose her word carefully since she didn't want to end up in a dark cell. But at the same time, her name was unfamiliar. Viserys remembered looking through a book with all the names of each family member in each house. But Rune's name wasn't on the list. He recalled Demetris, the firstborn son and the eldest of the Baratheon family. Cassandra is the eldest daughter, Maris is the second eldest daughter, Ellyn is the third, and Floris is the youngest. Versys didn't know where Rune fitted in.

"As I was saying. I couldn't imagine what you've gone through, Rune. I can see you are in no condition to return home. But in the meantime, Aemond will be helping you for the time being." Viserys could have sworn he saw his son scoff and curse under his breath, but he kept his composure long enough to keep it hidden. Even though Rune and Aemond didn't have such a great first impression, both knew; they're going to have to learn how to get along. 

Aemond pushed his back off the pillar and stalked closer to her chair. He crouched down enough for him to assist her. As if on queue, Rune stretched her arm around his back, then he placed his arm around her shoulder blades, trying to stabilize her. Slowly, he lifted her and leaned all of her weight towards his body. He kept a firm hold on her, desperately trying not to make her fall. But as expected, her legs started to buckle. She placed her other hand on his chest, looking for more support. If it wasn't for him being the pillar out of the two, she would have taken him down with her.

His pace was slow and continued to match hers. The only possible concern he had was when Rune froze the arms of the chair. When he led her out of the throne room, he noticed small sections of his armour started to freeze. Aemond could tell she was nervous. Was it their first meeting that made her nervous?

"I know our first meeting wasn't the best, but the morticians did a great job picking out a dress for you." Aemond tried to strike up a conversation, knowing that women love talking about themselves. But on the other hand, Rune thought he was just being a flirt. She didn't know what to reply to that. It wasn't often that she got a compliment. Of course, her sisters always got all of the attention while she had to stand in the background.

"T-thanks," her voice came out in a whisper. If she was being honest, the dresses she received; was the best clothes she ever had. It wasn't too tight, too showy, or too long. Every dress back at home broke her back, made her uncomfortable, or made her trip. But this one felt nice.

The pale dress fit her body just perfectly. The dress was loose, had an off-the-shoulder neckline, short, thin sleeves that hung off her shoulders, a small white and gold belt to compliment the dress and a flowing skirt that stopped just above her ankles. Aemond could have sworn that she looked like a doll in that dress. But luckily, it was thin enough for the warm weather.

"And you look like you're going to a funeral," a small but noticeable grin ghosted his lips. He took that more of a compliment than an insult. Aemond knew she was joking rather than trying to insult him. He could have chosen to drop her on the floor any minute but he didn't. 

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said. Aemond knew it was going to be a long process to help her heal and return home.