Echoes of Ice and Iron-Chapter 53: Scars and Choices

They reached Athax long after the city had gone to sleep.

The gates opened on a signal lantern and the quiet authority of familiar voices. No horns. No announcement. Just iron shifting in the dark and boots on stone.

Aya barely lifted her head.

Killan felt it before he saw it - the way her grip loosened on the reins, the slight tilt of her shoulders as if the effort of sitting upright had finally exceeded whatever stubborn force had carried her this far.

Vignir was there, shadowed by torchlight, his expression tightening the moment he saw them. He took in Seth first - half-conscious between two guards - and then Aya.

"Inside," Vignir said, already moving. "I’ll call for help."

They moved quickly then. Efficiently. Seth was taken the moment they crossed the inner ward, hands already reaching, voices low and urgent. Aya dismounted more slowly, swaying once before Killan caught her by the arm.

"I’m fine," she said automatically.

She was not.

A dark drop struck the stone between them.

Killan’s breath caught. He looked up just in time to see blood spill from her nose, thin and bright in the torchlight.

"Aya," he said quietly.

She blinked at him, unfocused, and then the world seemed to fade.

Killan caught her before she hit the ground.

He had just shifted her weight when footsteps rushed down the corridor. Boots. Familiar ones.

Aya’s guards appeared at the archway - Masa and two of Frost Fire, he forgot their names, but their familiarity struck him a second - faces sharp with alarm the moment they saw the blood on her collar and the way her head lolled against Killan’s shoulder.

"Your Grace," Masa said, already stepping forward. "Let us-"

"No."

Killan adjusted his grip, one arm locked firmly beneath Aya’s knees, the other braced across her back. She stirred faintly at the movement, breath hitching, and his hold tightened by instinct alone.

"I’ve got her," he said again, more quietly this time.

"We can carry her," the larger man offered, urgency edging into his voice. "You’ve also just arrived-"

Killan finally looked at them, his eyes hiding a storm.

"She’s unconscious," he said. "And bleeding. You want to help? Clear the way and locate healers for your Queen."

A pause. They knew he was right.

"Bring them up to our chambers," Killan continued. "And please move out of my way."

Masa then nodded. "Yes, Your Grace."

They moved immediately - doors opened, servants pulled back, voices lowered to whispers. Killan didn’t pay them any attention as he breezed through the hall.

Aya shifted again, a soft sound escaping her throat. Blood traced along the curve of her cheek.

Killan felt it like a blade under his ribs.

"Aya," he murmured, more plea than command. "Just a little longer."

She didn’t answer - but she didn’t slip further away either. And so he carried her on.

As they neared the corridor where their chambers were, Raina, her chambermaid, and two other women appeared at a run, hair loose, alarm written plainly across their faces. "The Queen-" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Help me get her inside and start a fire," Killan said. "Bring me clean water and her clothes."

"Your Grace, we can do this by-"

"Do as I say," he cut in, not unkindly. His voice stayed low, controlled. "Hurry."

Raina hesitated - only a heartbeat - then nodded and turned, already calling for what was needed.

Killan didn’t need permission to help his wife.

Not after this. Not after she had stood between Athax and war, between the North and collapse, between her people and a blade that never stopped swinging. She had gone into enemy territory, to the front lines, and came back like this so the rest of them could sleep behind stone walls and warm fires.

Of course, he would take care of her.

He carried Aya into the smaller chamber adjoining their quarters, kicking the door shut behind him with practiced ease. The room was dim, cold from disuse. He lowered her carefully onto the bed, easing her down as if she were made of glass.

Only then did he allow himself to breathe. And only then did he allow himself to really look.

He stripped away her cloak, then her outer layers, working with the familiarity of someone who had done this before - after battles, after long rides, after nights that left her shaking with adrenaline and refusal.

He worked quickly but gently, unfastening armor straps, peeling away leather and cloth soaked with sweat. His hands were steady, even when his chest wasn’t. When she stirred, he murmured soft reassurances, words meant only for her.

"I’ve got you," he said quietly. "You’re safe."

Her body told its own story.

A pale line along her ribs where a blade had slipped past armor.

Burn scars on her shoulder, jagged and uneven.

Older marks too - some faded almost to nothing, others still sharp with memory.

Killan swallowed.

They’ll write songs, he thought grimly. About the battles she won. The armies she broke. But they’ll never write about these.

Aya stirred weakly, brow furrowing. Another thin line of blood escaped her nose.

"Easy," Killan said, brushing her hair back, pressing a cloth gently to her face. "You’re home."

Her eyes fluttered open for a moment - just long enough to find him.

"Did... Seth...?"

"He’s with the healers," Killan said. "He’s fine and still breathing. Let’s take care of you now, huh?"

A ghost of a smile touched her lips.

Then she went limp again, breath stuttering as her body finally claimed its due.

The fire caught with a soft crackle as Raina and the servants returned, setting a basin of warm water down, laying fresh clothes and linens within reach. They moved with care, eyes averted, voices hushed.

Killan took the cloth from the basin himself.

"I’ll handle it," he said simply. "You may wait for the healers outside."

No one argued.

He wiped the blood from Aya’s face, careful around her nose. When the cloth came away red again, his mouth thinned - but he didn’t stop. He cleaned her hands next, fingers calloused from sword hilts and reins, stained from days of command and killing.

Hands that had held their passes strategically. Hands that had saved them all.

"You don’t get to faint on me like that," he murmured, pressing a clean cloth beneath her nose when the bleeding started again. "Not after everything."

He stayed with her for what seemed like hours before healers arrived - watchful, grounded, unyielding - until the fire warmed the room and the night outside Athax felt a little less heavy.

Whatever war waited beyond the walls could wait a few hours longer.

Tonight, the Queen was not a symbol.

She was his wife.

And Killan would guard her as fiercely as she had guarded them all.

***

The knock came softly.

Killan didn’t answer it at first.

Aya slept fitfully, breath shallow but steady, color slowly returning beneath the firelight. He remained seated at the edge of the bed, one hand resting over her wrist, his forefinger pressed lightly where he could feel her pulse - still too fast, still uneven, but there.

The knock came again. Firmer this time.

Killan rose, careful not to disturb her, and crossed the room. When he opened the door, Vignir stood there with two healers behind him - Tamsin among them, her expression grave but composed. The corridor light cast sharp lines across Vignir’s face, worry barely restrained beneath his authority.

"Is the Queen alright?" Vignir asked, as Killan stepped aside to let them in.

"Yes," Killan replied hollowly. "For now. She does not have any external wounds, but..."

Vignir exhaled once. "The Frost Fire Captain is with the healers. He was conscious, but only just."

That was enough to draw Tamsin inside. She stepped past Killan, eyes flicking immediately to Aya on the bed, pale against the linens.

"Your Grace, I’ll go ahead and take a look," she said. The healers moved closer, Tamsin already kneeling at Aya’s side, checking her pupils, her breathing, the faint tremor that ran through her fingers even in sleep.

Vignir turned to face him fully then. "Do you know what’s happening to her?"

Killan shook his head. "Something about her power. I’m not entirely sure."

"How long has this been happening?" Tamsin asked. "The nosebleeds and fainting."

Killan didn’t feign ignorance. "Never saw it happen until today. May have been days since their return from Ceadel," he said. "Maybe longer, if I’m being honest. She didn’t show any signs until today."

"And the Frost Fire Captain?" Vignir asked.

"He’s worse," Killan admitted. "Unstable. Disoriented at times. Strong one moment, bleeding the next. Whatever’s happening to him is because of her too. They are linked somehow. He did say he was her Blood Guardian or something like that."

Tamsin looked up sharply at that. "Her power, you said? Her summoning power. And he is her Blood Guardian," she voiced, careful with the words. "I suspected as much when I saw him earlier."

Vignir’s gaze sharpened. "You suspected that’s the reason?"

"My Lord, it’s only because I don’t know enough yet," Tamsin replied evenly. "Both of them don’t have any physical injuries, but are experiencing the same symptoms. The guard was worse off than her."

Killan folded his arms, tension radiating from him. "Can you help her?"

"I can keep her alive," Tamsin said honestly. "I can ease the pain if she’s feeling some. Slow the worsening. But this- "she glanced at Aya again, " -this requires knowledge we don’t keep in Athax."

Vignir stiffened. "You’re saying we need a Maester."

"Yes," Tamsin said. "One who understands Summoners and their powers."

Killan nodded slowly. "Find me one, Vignir. Ask the Northmen. I’ll get him or her myself if I have to."

Tamsin placed a hand over Aya’s, gentle but firm. "Then we must keep her stable until then. And her guard as well. They are... linked, in ways we are only beginning to understand."

Silence fell on Killan and Vignir as they watched the healers work on Aya.

"You need to rest too, Killan," Vignir said in a low voice. "It wouldn’t do Lady Aya any good if you get burnt out at this time."

Killan kept his eyes on Aya’s form. "I know. Let me just stay here for a while."

And for the first time since the war had begun to close its jaws around them, Vignir said nothing to argue otherwise.