you sense her before you ever see her. dancing on the wind, swift as a deer, quiet as a shadow, your sister is. nothing could stop her from doing this, not even you, not even death. what do we say to the god of death, children borne of summer? you’re acutely aware of the night king’s stare upon your face, of the way he reaches for his weapon, and you know he is about to strike you down, and he will enjoy every second of it. she flies through the air, you see her descending upon the night king’s back -- i’m the only one who gets to bully my little brother, so back off -- but the night king turns, just as swiftly, and catches her by her throat and wrist, the very wrist holding the valyrian steel dagger you had gifted her. terror shoots up along your spine, your gaze turns panicked the moment your enemy turns to look somewhere else ; because you are afraid, are you not? you have always been afraid...but you don’t have to be. you don’t want to be, not when your sister’s life is in peril the way it is, right now. without even thinking, you search for her eyes overtop of the night king’s head, and once you have them you reach out as far as you are able. sister, you have fought every moment since you left your home. rest. let me take this burden from you.