Brynhildr chained up the Red Priestess.

Melisandre stared down at the floor as Brynhildr bound her in a lone cell, with nothing within that could be lit on fire. There was but a small window, which Melisandre's head would never even fit into. Brynhildr had every intention of killing her, but could only do so once Daenerys gave her leave. Until then, she would question her.

"A warrior and a witch," said Melisandre as Brynhildr shut the steel door behind her. "It is not often that combination exists."

"I am more warrior than witch," explained Brynhildr. "My mother was a seer, my father a dreamer in some ways. I channel their magic but have little of my own."

Melisandre regarded her curiously. "And yet a child not of your blood took the traits of your parents. Perhaps it is your magic that concealed her from me in the first place."

"I don't think you were looking into the right flames. Perhaps you looked, saw Stannis, and saw him as your end goal, when really, he was meant to be what guided you towards the real Azor Ahai."

She looked away. "I am embarrassed to have made this mistake."

"It is embarrassing," agreed Brynhildr. "Though, I suppose, not as embarrassing as Stannis relying so heavily on you. A great military commander, he is. Proved himself twice to Westeros in the art of warfare yet he was beaten by someone like me, who Westeros regards as no expert. In the end, I suppose, you followed your faith. I cannot judge it, for I, too, have made sacrifices to my gods. Though, I cannot say I ever saw anyone in my lands use seiðr or galdr for murder."

"It certainly occurred," said Melisandre. "Perhaps used by those who were more ambitious than your father... but without a heart filled with love for his children."

Brynhildr narrowed her eyes. "Many want you dead, Melisandre. As do I, for the sake of caution. To protect my children. Yet, you seem to now have clarity regarding my daughter's role in this prophecy. I mean to hear what you have to say about this."

Melisandre laughed dryly, "And you'll kill me only after that? I only listen to what my Lord commands, same as you have allowed your gods to guide you down a path you knew nothing about. To kill me is to deprive my Lord of a servant, but not to cripple his cause. For there are others like me, and my burden will simply be passed on. I have foreseen already that I will die in this foreign land– I will never again see Asshai. But I know, too, that there are things I must do, first."

"You must surely understand that it is not in my best interests to let you go simply because of that? I don't trust you. I don't trust the influence you have over men nor do I want you free to use your magic against–"

"I would pledge myself to your daughter," said Melisandre. "I will tell her the destiny I see in the flames."

"She sees her future on her own. And I will not have you adding whispers and corrupting her."

"There would be no corruption. It would simply open her eyes to matters your gods and hers may not be prepared to show her. I swear it to you, upon Ragnar the dreamer and Aslaug the völva."

Brynhildr's jaw tightened. It didn't feel right to hear Melisandre using her parents' names. "This decision will be made with my daughter, her brother, and my partners. I am not so keen to welcome you so closely to our side, Melisandre. I don't know you and I don't entirely care to."

"You do not need to know me," said Melisandre. "I know you. I know your story. The Lord of Light spoke to me in the moment you demanded to know what role your daughter would play. I heard and saw from the flames the reason you were chosen to guide Daenerys. I've seen your past and I've witnessed the future that befell Kattegat. You were spared from it not only by your gods."

She knew it could be an attempt to manipulate her, to lower her guard. But Brynhildr was too curious and knew that, no matter Melisandre said now, nothing she did would change what already happened. Melisandre noticed her intrigue and spoke. "Ivar was King... for a time. He married a girl who saw past his deformities. But Freydis spoke sweet words in his ear, and soon, he began to think himself a god. He named himself as part of the Æsir. He hurt and took and could not anchor himself. He killed his wife, who gave him a deformed child. He had to flee Kattegat after a Siege led by Bjorn and Ubbe. While you were in the North, he was in a land much like it. The Rus brought him a ghost, an enemy, an apprentice, and an army. For a time, he acted as a father the way you did for your children. He attacked Wessex once more and died saving Hvitserk."

Brynhildr stood firm in her place, not daring to let her lip tremble even as she thought of Ivar having been gone for eighteen years without her knowledge. Melisandre continued, "Poor Hvitserk. He found love and Ivar ripped her away. He sided with Bjorn and Ubbe to dethrone Ivar, but lost his mind even when they won the battle. He became but a shell of what he once was, and was banished as a Skorgamor. Bjorn and Ubbe turned their backs on him. He came to Ivar, who'd matured. Hvitserk survived the final battle at Wessex and is a father now. He married a beautiful girl and he has two children, like you. A boy named Sigurd and a girl named Helga."

She hated the thought of her brother turned into an outlaw, unwanted in the world. "Ubbe's first wife lost her mind," said Melisandre. "Margrethe's thirst for more than she was born for was her undoing. He went to Torvi for comfort. He and Bjorn fled to Wessex after your battle, where the new King Alfred and his brother, Prince Aethelred, welcomed them. Ubbe and Torvi were baptized as Christians. They met Magnus, son of Kwentrith, and together they fought against King Harald. They sought the Golden Land. He named his sons Ragnar and Hvitserk and his daughter Brynhildr, to bring him peace."

It was pointless to stop tears from pooling in her eyes as Melisandre finished, "Bjorn never stopped desiring more women than he could respect, women he should not have had. But he became King of Kattegat... he even had ambitions to become King of all Norway, but the Vikings voted and King Harald was chosen. Yet, still, King or not, he rose from the dead to beat back the Rus and in the end, died a savior of Kattegat, and considered in the end, a King of all Norway."

Brynhildr did not speak. Her whole form shook, thinking of what she'd avoided, but also what she'd left behind to fall to ruin. She thought of Hvitserk and Ubbe's children, five babes born that she could not have. Four of them with the same names she'd intended to use, save for her own– that would have been the daughter she named for Elia.

Melisandre's eyes seemed to glow even with the dim light, "I tell you these things now not to cause you grief, but because you were saved from terrible fates. Ivar would have driven you mad as he did Hvitserk, or Hvitserk would have killed you in one of his blind rages, or Ubbe would have turned his back on you, or Bjorn would have kept you under his thumb and let you fade away. King Harald, the man you hated, would have forced you to become his wife. Five children, you could not have, four of which were born to the wives of your brothers instead. But one alone would have been the child you gave to Harald, a child that would have ripped you open and left nothing behind."

Melisandre tugged at the chains. "Daughter of Ragnar, filled with anger, the eyes of the gods did not escape you, the memory of the world follows you and your presence will linger in your world and ours. You raise your Queen to close the circle of a dynasty then shatter it to plunge our history into a new era. Your daughter could not have been seen by the Lord of Light until you brought her to me. Your daughter could not have become what she was truly capable of without youdropped at our shores."

Brynhildr stared up at the window trying to keep the tears from flowing down her cheeks. Melisandre whispered, "It was only fitting that a woman underestimated, a King and Queenslayer, would bring her beliefs to this land to empower the girl meant to sit the Iron Throne. A girl none of us envisioned because the world does not look changed. And yet, it's been different since your arrival. Since you left your family behind."

She couldn't stand it anymore. She chose to leave, shutting the door tight behind and ordering her nearest Valkyries to keep watch. Melisandre's words rang in her ears, cold truths and words strung eerily similar to the Ancient One of Kattegat and her mother, who'd spoken as if in a trance when she told Brynhildr about her fate.

She swept through the halls, already having forgotten what way she'd come from. It frustrated her to hear the truth, to consider Melisandre could be useful, to face the fact that she had abandoned her family before they'd come to need her the most. Had it been the gods' will? Certainly, she believed it.

Yet, she realized she'd spent all her time in Norway waiting to leave, without thinking that she'd left her family to die. She might've made Ivar a better King, Hvitserk not a Berserker, Ubbe steer clear of Christianity, and Bjorn... well, she didn't know what she would have done with Bjorn but he certainly wouldn't have been beat by Harald Finehair in becoming King of all Norway.

At last, she accepted that she wasn't sure where she was going. Valkyries, Stormcrows, and men of the Golden Company were still exploring the castle themselves. She chose a hallway and sat herself down, drawing deep breaths. She had had her new beginning, even now there came another one on the horizon. All the while her siblings had been dying at home, and she'd turned her back on them.

She cried out the frustration, covering her face to sob and be done with it. There was nothing she could do to change what had happened, and she would never again be able to go back and set things right. For just one moment, one selfish moment, she had to grieve her brothers and grieve the life she once had.

For four years she'd been excited and enjoying Essos and Westeros. And since the children came to her, she'd scarcely thought of the life she had before, if only to teach them the things she'd learned a harder way. But not once had she taken the time to sit and be in pain for just a little while. Not once had she thought that the gods had wanted her to leave and she did so without hesitation, without having been kind enough to think her family might've needed her there.

She felt someone sit beside her. She felt Viserys's familiar hands holding onto hers, his head resting on her shoulder. "My boy," she whispered.

"What did she say to you?" asked Viserys gently.

"Some hard truths about what happened to my brothers," admitted Brynhildr, lifting her head. Viserys offered her a handkerchief. "I only need a moment to feel... grief. And then, I will be alright."

"Remember what you would say to me and Dany when we were sad," noted Viserys. "Don't restrict yourself to only a moment. Better to get it all out no matter how long it takes. Of course you mourn them, they were your family. They were as lucky as we are, to have had you. I'm sorry, Mineri. I'm sorry for what happened to them."

He pulled her into a hug, and she knew it had all been worth it. Her son, grown enough that he might soon have a family of his own, did not forget her lessons. Did not forget the importance of being present while someone was upset. Felt no embarrassment in comforting his mother. She knew she'd raised him well, she knew she had been a good person chosen for the role of raising him. It was more than her parents had done for her, more than even her brothers had given her in moments like these.

When she felt better, he gave her a tour of the castle, helping her orient herself. He'd done much exploring here as a boy, he still remembered the ins and outs of the place despite not having been here in nearly seventeen years.

He still held her hand, and she knew that the reason he'd found her was because he was sad, too. This place brought back memories for him, memories that weren't pleasant. He was probably remembering Queen Rhaella, her death, Daenerys's birth. The sort of things that had been etched by fire into his six-year-old mind. She gave him a hug, too, knowing he needed it.

They convened with the others for a meal, Daenerys having been overseeing the shifting-around of men who would stay in the castle and those who would stay on their ships. She'd decided that they would keep Melisandre around if only for Daenerys to ask her about her own dreams– she didn't want to snuff out the words of the Lord of Light considering she'd grown up fervently believing in both the Norse and Valyrian gods.

While Brynhildr worried this could potentially go poorly, and that Daenerys might not be capable of realizing the danger Melisandre could pose, she also knew that this was a choice perhaps only Daenerys could understand. None of them were dreamers, and though Brynhildr guided rituals, she wasn't exactly someone capable of true magic. It was only Daenerys that could know Melisandre's value in the realm of prophecy and this belief of her being the Princess Who Was Promised.

At any rate, Brynhildr could see from her own interaction with Melisandre that she wasn't trying to escape nor had she openly tried to hurt anyone. Just as Melisandre had believed that Stannis was the Prince Who Was Promised, so, too, did she now seem to believe the same for Daenerys. She supposed that if the Lord of Light believed in Daenerys, then Melisandre would not risk her. Still, she'd need to be closely monitored.

Daenerys had also made a formal decision regarding her Small Council. Viserys was named, in front of their highest offices, as Prince of Dragonstone, heir to the Iron Throne, and still Hand of the King. He'd teared up, honored, and Daenerys had given him a tight hug, she equally aware of the pain this return was causing him.

Oberyn was named Master of Laws, given he'd grown up in Westeros. Daario and Captain-General Strickland were currently their Masters of War; once the war was won, one or both could continue to hold the post. Brynhildr had been named Master of Ships, a great honor she gladly accepted. Connington and Aegon were both named members of the council without set roles; Daenerys didn't know yet who to place as Master of Coin but she knew she wanted the two of them close to all plans.

She'd named Ser Jorah as the first member of the Queensguard, though he would not be attending meetings in favor of patrolling the castle. To Brynhildr, it worked well for the sake of having him believe they did not suspect him to be a spy at all. Either way, all the most important things were constantly discussed in private between Brynhildr, Oberyn, and Daario. Jorah would not be learning any more than what the rest of the world would eventually still be allowed to know.

"We have about eight-thousand men in the dungeons now," said Oberyn once they'd received the first batch of letters from the Storm Lords. "Most of the three-thousand who were guarding Dragonstone were killed and of the nine-thousand that seemingly survived the Blackwater, about two-thousand were killed in our own attack and the rest were able to be detained. That gives us eight-thousand swords on top of the about twelve-thousand we still have under our banner. Almost twenty-thousand this close to our garrison."

"As for the other Stormlords," said Viserys, letters in hand, "House Cafferen of Fawntown started by supporting Renly, flocked over to Stannis, and now pledges allegiance to Queen Daenerys. House Connington of Griff's Roost, of course, is ours– Connington is once more named Lord by our Queen. House Errol of Haystack Hill has pledged to Queen Daenerys, as have House Fell of Felwood, House Mertyns of Mistwood, House Penrose of Parchments, and House Tarth of Evenfall Hall. House Dondarrion's lord, Beric Dondarrion, is currently indisposed attempting to capture Ser Gregor Clegane, and one of the other Dondarrions has stated that they simply 'surrender' to us, rather than declaring allegiance."

Daario picked up where he left off, "We've received word that King Joffrey is going to marry Margaery Tyrell now instead of Sansa Stark. House Buckler of Bronzegate, House Steadmon of Broad Arch, and House Swann of Stonehelm all chose to declare for Joffrey after the Battle of the Blackwater. For now, we can assume their castles are less defended what with hostages in King's Landing and the great mass of soldiers there are there at present.

"Additionally, we've learned that the King in the North, Robb Stark, has chosen to go against his promise to Lord Walder Frey and married some Volantene girl instead of a Frey girl– the alliance with the North may not be as fruitful as we so hoped. It's being said the North army is retreating, though not entirely with our suggestions. A garrison has been left at Harrenhal and Robb moves only for the funeral of his grandfather, the Lord Hoster Tully. As such, it is my recommendation that we focus on taking Storm's End and let the North's mistakes play out as it will. Should we need to discuss the alliance again, Roose Bolton resides at Harrenhal, and perhaps a party of Valkyries could accompany Commander Lothbrok there to treat with him."

Daenerys gave a nod, "Thank you for your advice. Yes, let us see what becomes of the Northern army. A good and sound recommendation to retreat and hold the North was given– I recall even a detailed suggestion of fortifying Moat Cailin was given. If the King in the North wishes to ignore our advice– perhaps he does not trust us– and chooses to lead with his heart instead of his head, then we will keep our distance and see what becomes of it."

"Even in Dorne we've heard of Lord Walder Frey," added Oberyn. "King Robb will surely find difficulty in marching back North without the Twins. If he mends this or finds another route, we will treat with him anew. For now, the Stormlands."

Captain-General Strickland cleared his throat, "As Captain Naharis said, we've some houses that have surrendered or otherwise pledged their support. It seems the Storm Lords admired our show of strength and appreciated the placement of Shireen Baratheon as Lady of Storm's End even with our seizure. House Caron of Nightsong, House Estermont of Greenstone, and House Wylde of Rain House all began supporting Renly Baratheon but turned to Stannis's side and remain fervent supporters. In their letters they have claimed they will not yield. These houses, as well as the King Joffrey loyalists at Bronzegate, Broad Arch, and Stonehelm, we can take by force with very few men."

Daenerys looked at Brynhildr, piecing things together for herself. "Then we take those first," said Daenerys, to which her mother nodded. "We hold the garrison at Dragonstone and send out parties to take each of those houses. Once we've received ravens from there, we know it will be clear to take the majority of our men to the mainland and march upon Storm's End. We might find it undefended by then, and otherwise any who linger in its defense will fall with ease."

"Some ease," said Aegon carefully. "Storm's End did withstand near a year of siege."

"For that, we have a plan," assured Brynhildr. "We do have, after all, the Onion Knight that managed to smuggle food into Storm's End. Should we need to do it, we employ the same tactics as we did here. Years ago, I made plans to take every major castle in these lands. I've taught them all to Viserys and Daenerys. Storm's End and Casterly Rock sit higher up on the cliffs than Dragonstone does, but both have a sewage system that drains into the water below– these are ways we can use to get in. We hope to not have a battle, to preserve Storm's End as a proper garrison, but if there is need for us to sneak in, we will be able to do it."

Aegon seemed impressed. "Every major castle?"

"Yes," said Brynhildr. "Oberyn was able to acquire for me maps of Winterfell, Riverrun, Casterly Rock, the Eyrie, Storm's End, and the Red Keep– with as much detail as someone outside of the castle could manage. He even had me practice planning an attack on Sunspear, which he knew like the back of his hand. The Eyrie, they call her impregnable, but even she has her weak spots. The mountain can protect her from large armies but I grew up learning of the power in small groups with brave and clever men. These places, they are defended well against large sieges and blockades by men on foot and on horseback, but a handful of Valkyries could bring us into each if we are careful enough."

Daenerys gave nod. "This is what we will do. Let us–" There came a knock at the door. "Enter, Ser Jorah."

He came in, the guards holding onto an older man in a black cloak. "Ser Barristan Selmy," announced Ser Jorah. "Once Lord Commander of King Robert's Kingsguard."

"We've been expecting you," said Oberyn, recalling Varys had assumed Ser Barristan would come to find them. "Let him go."

Ser Jorah blinked, but Daenerys repeated the order. Ser Barristan was allowed to be free, and he immediately dropped to one knee. "Queen Daenerys," he said, bowing his head. "Prince Viserys. I have been searching for the two of you to ask your forgiveness. I was sworn to protect your family. I failed them. I lay in wait after my dismissal for your arrival, so I may pledge my sword to you."

"Rise, Ser," said Daenerys kindly. She glanced at her mother and uncles, none of which seemed surprised or at all worried. "I accept your oath." She gestured around the table, introducing, "My mother, Commander Brynhildr Lothbrok of the Valkyries. My uncle, Captain Daario Naharis of the Stormcrows. My uncle, Prince Oberyn Nymeros of House Martell, and Commander of the Valkyries. Captain-General Strickland of the Golden Company. Lord Jon Connington of Griffin's Roost. And–"

"By all the gods," said Ser Barristan as he looked upon Aegon. "I'd heard but a rumor..."

"Prince Aegon," said Daenerys, "son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Martell."

Ser Barristan nodded, bowing his head once more. "I swear to protect you, the three of you. House Selmy of Harvest Hall pledges themselves to you, Queen Daenerys."