тнe ɴιɢнт'ѕ qυeeɴ ☾

         And a reason to be that way.

"You are leaking from eyes, fire-bird."    The walker's footsteps picked up again, but she only moved      forth one or two paces, extending an icy hand in gesture to the          young fire-headed girl, before bringing her cold fingers to brush              at her own, frostbitten cheek.  The Night's Queen cocked her                           head, seemingly curious, before she spoke again.                                               "Lost? Scared?"          Those great blue eyes narrowed, the rise and fall of the              frozen woman's chest slow, steady. She shifted, almost                 to quickly glance 'round for any more company, but                  her lips parted once more.                                   "Why lost? Who you?"

The walker did not move, rather, she chose to keep still         for a moment, thinking herself unseen. There was a niggling sense of doubt,                but she considered her gut the            instinct to follow, as she always had. She shifted, the ice of her bones cracking,         taking a few silent footsteps through the trees. But she stopped, again, only those horrible, bright eyes     s t a r i n g out at the world. Curious. Who was this woman?

He had once been a brother of the night’s watch but, that was far to long ago. He remember who he was but, he’d never tell her. 

The walker queen grew silent, still for a moment or so. She was incredibly still, but eventually her lips parted, and after a few cracked, icy breaths, she spoke once more. It was strange, though. To find something so very similar, and yet...different. "Ijörka." Stepping closer, she made to circle the man and his horse, blue eyes roaming curiously. There was another pause, but she quickly put an end to it with words. "You are not of own kind."

"Oh, my sweet summer child. What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter when the snows fall a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the the long nights when the sun hides for years, and children are born and live and die, all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little lord; when the white walkers move through the woods"

We're all the same to them. Meat for their army.

      She slowly drew out her sword and held it tightly in her hand.                  ”Speak or be killed.”

          "You are fool."     It stirs a response, regardless if the walker's lips twist          into in a grimace, unimpressed by the other's bravery.

                                           ‘ Ꮇａｒｇａｅｒｙ. ’

                                           "Margaery?"   She repeats the word, the taste of it foreign         and alien on her tongue, knowledge of the common language                of Westeros being limited as it is. Once, twice -                                                                               "Margaery."    -  before she feels as if she has grasped the word, the maiden's name.          The cold hand at her throat slips to touch her chest,       in a gesture her beloved had done to her when they had met.              It is slightly shaky, lacking confidence, somewhat.                     She never uses the formalities taught to her years previous.                                            "....Ijörka."     How strange it is, to converse in a mannerism like this with something living.          It hasn't been done in many a moon, and her skills are rusty, but it                   brings back a rush of memories from her distant past.           She remembers it all so clearly - her Lord Commander, however....              even as an incredibly strong wight, his memory was terribly torn.

There’s a few people actually ;o; some of them are hxunded, withironhearts, noctexilla & etsorortace

After what felt like hours, Sansa finally took a seat by a nearby tree. Sighing, she looked up, finding a pair of crystal blue eyes staring right back at her. She gasped loudly, frozen from being too terrified or simply too dumbfounded to know what to do. 

Her eyes remained on the girl, refusing to break the contact for a split second. The walker kept still, not moving for several more moments, before taking it upon herself to tread forwards, steps careful. The Night's Queen had a curiosity like a burning candle, ignited by the things of the world she had not seen in so long. She came to a halt, not directly before the girl, but closer than before. The ice woman's head cocked, slowly, perceiving gaze still on Sansa's face, before her lips parted, and she attempted speech. For a split second, all that came from dry, frozen lungs was wheezing, hacking, like she had difficulty breathing - but then the words came, wobbly as they were, but coherent enough.  "You cry because sad? Or scared?"

His skin was white as snow the horse he rode was undead.

Strange. He looked similar to one of her own...but she couldn't be quiet sure. The walker Queen allowed her eyes to roam the stranger curiously, before returning his greeting slowly, almost uncertainly.                       "...Hello."

     She doesn't answer, the walker merely stares blankly in response.                       What does she want? That, is a good question.

*Requested by anon