Melisandre's tent was never truly dark.
Three tallow candles burned brightly on the desk, pushing back the dangers of the Long Night. Four more candles stood beside her bed, while the brazier in the corner blazed day and night. The first lesson anyone serving the Red Priestess learned was simple:
The fire must never go out.
When Gendry entered the tent, he found Melisandre standing beside her desk.
She served as one of his advisors in the camp. Many soldiers admired her—not because of her faith, but because of her extraordinary beauty. After all, such a stunning woman was an uncommon sight in a military camp.
"She's like living fire," Gendry thought.
As always, Melisandre was dressed entirely in red. Her silk gown shimmered like dancing flames, with long flowing sleeves and a fitted bodice that revealed the darker crimson dress beneath. Around her slender neck rested a tight collar of red gold, set with a large ruby that glowed whenever she channeled her magic.
She possessed an almost supernatural charm.
Once a man's eyes settled upon her, they found it difficult to look away.
Her hair wasn't the bright orange or strawberry blonde common among redheads. Instead, it was a rich copper-red that gleamed beneath the candlelight. Even her eyes carried a crimson tint, while her flawless skin remained as smooth and pale as fresh cream. Tall and graceful, she possessed elegant curves, a slender waist, and a heart-shaped face that only enhanced her mysterious beauty.
"A magnificent victory, Storm," Melisandre greeted softly.
Her voice carried the smooth, melodic accent of the Jade Sea.
"But tell me..."
"What is it that you fear?"
Even through his cloak and leather armor, Gendry could feel the warmth radiating from her body as she gently touched his arm.
"There are enemies hiding in the shadows, my lady," Gendry replied.
Melisandre smiled faintly.
"Those who openly curse you are easy to see."
"The truly dangerous ones are those who smile while concealing a dagger."
"But even they are not to be feared."
"Your enemies can never comprehend your true strength."
Gendry looked at her thoughtfully.
"How powerful is your magic here?"
"It's... average," Melisandre admitted honestly.
"The birth of the dragons has strengthened my power considerably."
"But if I were somewhere rich in magic—or if I had greater sacrifices—it would become much stronger."
She sighed softly.
"If you had allowed me to burn the statues of the Seven on Dragonstone, my strength would have increased greatly."
"I also believe Harrenhal possesses lingering magical energy."
"And beyond the Wall..."
"My power should become even stronger."
Gendry studied her carefully.
"What exactly did you see in the flames that brought you here?"
Melisandre gazed into the brazier.
"Many things."
"Most importantly..."
"The great war between ice and fire."
"I did not come merely because of the struggles between earthly kings."
"My earlier prophecies were not wrong."
"The flames simply became clouded by countless uncertain futures."
She lowered her eyes.
"Many red priests and priestesses make mistakes."
"They confuse their own wishes with divine revelation."
"They misinterpret what the Lord of Light truly shows them."
Reading visions within sacred fire was no simple task.
It was an art.
Like every art, it required endless practice, study, and sacrifice.
R'hllor spoke to His chosen through flames, smoke, ash, and dancing embers—a language no ordinary mortal could understand.
Melisandre had spent countless years mastering that language.
No other red priest interpreted the sacred fire with greater skill.
Yet even she was not infallible.
Gendry glanced toward her.
"You never saw me in the flames?"
Melisandre shook her head apologetically.
"Your fire burns too fiercely."
"It always disrupts my visions."
"You are an uncertainty..."
"A blasphemer."
"Your path will be extremely dangerous."
She continued quietly.
"The bloodlines of House Durrandon and the Valyrian Dragonlords have always been proud."
"They believed too much in themselves."
"Your uncle, Lord Stannis, stopped believing in any god after losing his parents."
Gendry frowned.
"Are you saying the Doom of Valyria was connected to the gods?"
"The past is deep beyond measure."
"But I believe the gods would never favor those who considered themselves gods."
"The Dragonlords mastered blood and fire magic."
"They allowed thousands of gods to be worshipped."
"In the end..."
"They were consumed by fire."
"Be careful, Storm."
Gendry nodded respectfully.
"Thank you for the warning, my lady."
Melisandre stepped closer.
"I can offer you far more than advice."
"Give me fire..."
"And I shall create shadows."
"Shadows are servants of light."
She smiled faintly.
"And if not shadows..."
"I can still offer you life's most primal pleasures."
Gendry smiled helplessly.
"Is there any magic that demands a smaller price?"
"Your Lord of Light seems rather greedy."
"There is."
Melisandre nodded.
"Come."
She opened an intricately carved chest.
"I've prepared many tools to serve the Lord of Light... and His chosen savior."
Inside lay countless powders and magical ingredients.
Some caused flames to burn green, blue, or silver.
Others made fire roar, hiss, or leap higher than a man's head.
There were powders that produced thick smoke...
Smoke capable of forcing people to reveal secrets...
Inciting desire...
Inspiring fear...
And even black smoke capable of killing instantly.
Gendry's eyes brightened.
"Glamours..."
"Now that's interesting."
"Could one make another person become me?"
Melisandre shook her head.
"Not truly."
"Objects remember their owners."
"Your armor."
"Your boots."
"Even a strand of your hair."
"Powerful glamours draw upon those memories."
"They wrap another person in your appearance."
"But they cannot change the person's true nature."
Gendry nodded thoughtfully.
"Then protecting you has become even more important."
Melisandre smiled.
"There is no need."
"The very first lesson I learned as a practitioner of fire magic was how to protect myself."
"If anyone intends to harm me..."
"The flames will warn me first."
She looked at him eagerly.
"If you wish..."
"I can demonstrate many forms of magic."
"I have searched endlessly through the flames."
"But I could accomplish far more."
Gendry regarded her carefully.
"It won't harm you?"
"I can't afford to lose the hen that lays golden eggs."
"I still need my advisor."
Melisandre hesitated only briefly.
"No."
In truth, she wasn't entirely honest.
Casting powerful glamours carried a price.
If the target suffered serious harm, the backlash would affect her as well.
The ruby around her neck would burn like molten metal, and her skin might blister beneath the heat.
"There will be opportunities later," Gendry said.
"I'm currently hunting rats in the dungeons."
"Your abilities may prove useful."
Melisandre gently kissed one of his fingers.
"I am always happy to serve you, Storm."
"Come to me whenever you need my help."
---
Leaving Melisandre's tent behind, Gendry returned to his command pavilion with Ser Barristan following close behind.
Inside, Tyene Sand was still waiting.
She smiled teasingly.
"I thought you might stay longer with that beautiful Red Priestess."
"After a great battle, most men seek a little entertainment."
Her golden gown clung elegantly to her figure.
Her golden hair framed a face of almost innocent beauty.
Only her deep blue eyes hinted at the danger hidden beneath.
She was perhaps the most dangerous of Oberyn Martell's Sand Snakes.
Gendry smiled.
"She's no ordinary woman."
"Much like you."
"Very dangerous."
Tyene laughed softly.
"I'm nowhere near that dangerous."
"You're my father's friend."
"And House Martell's ally."
"The Mountain and House Lannister remain our true enemies."
Gendry nodded.
"Joffrey is dead."
"The mob killed him."
"Carry that news back to Dorne."
"Perhaps Sunspear should begin making preparations."
Tyene's expression became serious.
"On behalf of my aunt... and her murdered children..."
"Thank you."
Gendry shook his head.
"No thanks are necessary."
"No matter who commits it..."
"Harming children is always a sin."
Tyene replied quietly,
"I consider it the gods' judgment."
She glanced toward the battlefield.
"The war seems nearly over."
"No wonder that fat lord from the Reach is smiling so much."
Gendry's expression grew solemn.
"No."
"The greater war is only beginning."
"The Long Winter is coming."
"And this winter will be unlike any before."
"Hunger will sweep across Westeros."
"And the Wall already stands on the brink."
Tyene nodded thoughtfully.
"You truly are different from King Robert."
"He enjoyed life without worrying about tomorrow."
"If I hadn't witnessed your courage on the battlefield..."
"I'd never believe you were father and son."
Gendry chuckled.
"He was born a lord."
"I was born a blacksmith."
Tyene smiled.
"A blacksmith is one of the gods as well."
Gendry looked directly at her.
"If you still intend to enter King's Landing..."
"You should disguise yourself as a septa accompanying me."
She bowed gracefully.
"I'd be delighted."
"There is nothing difficult about that."
With a smile, she departed.
---
Only Ser Barristan, Lothor Brune, and Anguy remained.
Ser Barristan spoke first.
"Our numbers are far too small."
"After the Battle of the Blackwater, even more Kingsguard are likely dead."
Gendry nodded.
"Quality matters more than quantity."
"You'll have to shoulder more responsibility."
Barristan remained as upright as a drawn sword.
"I've heard the Hound and Ser Meryn are still serving."
"Only one of them deserves the white cloak."
"I'll personally evaluate every candidate."
"Many men dishonor the Kingsguard."
"They may receive titles..."
"But they should never wear white."
Gendry agreed.
"King's Landing has remained corrupt for far too long."
"It needs sweeping reform."
"And I don't intend to stay there forever."
"Once the Long Winter arrives..."
"The city itself may have to be rebuilt."
Turning toward Lothor, he continued.
"After we enter the city tomorrow..."
"Have Ser Boros assume command of the Gold Cloaks."
"You'll assist him."
"Lord Kellen and Ser Guud will remain behind to organize the former slave soldiers and select the best among them."
"The Gold Cloaks won't lack manpower."
Lothor nodded immediately.
"Understood, Your Highness."
"Also..."
"Find the finest rat catcher in King's Landing."
"I need every hidden tunnel beneath the city cleared."
"Lord Eddard may still be hidden within the Black Cells."
"Varys could have moved him."
"And don't overlook the brothels controlled by Varys and Petyr."
"They must all be searched."
Lothor nodded once more.
"I understand."
"And don't forget Petyr's secret tunnel."
"The one hiding House Targaryen's armor."
Gendry smiled faintly.
"That one is especially important."
Varys might never have discovered that passage.
It connected both land and sea.
Everything was falling into place.
Rat catchers.
The Kingsguard.
Hidden tunnels.
Even Melisandre's glamours.
Gendry tightened his grip around Tiger Roar.
A grand feast has already been prepared...
And it's waiting for Varys.
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