The river was awake again.
It sang beneath the ice as if whispering her name, and every ripple that broke the frozen surface felt like a heartbeat she couldn't claim.
Althea rode south with Job Snow at her side, the Northern wind behind them, and the silence of the gods heavy between their breaths.
The pact had changed them not just in power, but in presence.
Where her shadow once trailed her alone, now it moved with his.
Two shapes, one rhythm.
But she knew balance never lasted long in Westeros.
The Weight of the Blood
They camped near the banks of the Green Fork.
The fire crackled softly; snow fell in thin veils.
Job sat opposite her, sharpening Longclaw with slow, careful strokes.
"You're quiet tonight," he said finally.
"I'm listening."
"To what?"
She lifted her gaze. "The river remembers everything. Even lies."
Job frowned. "And what does it say?"
"That you don't trust me."
He didn't deny it. "You brought fire to the North. I saw what it did to those shadows but I also saw what it did to you."
Althea's fingers brushed the faint scar across her palm. "It cost me more than blood."
Job's eyes darkened. "Then tell me the truth, before the river drowns us both."
She hesitated then whispered,
"When I made the pact I didn't just bind myself to you. I bound myself to him too."
"The Black Stag?"
She nodded. "He lives through me now. Every time I call on the curse, he wakes a little more."
The Return of the Mockingbird
By dawn, they reached the edge of a ruined bridge once golden, now split in two.
A lone figure waited by the broken stones.
Peter Baelish.
He smiled as they approached, his cloak rimmed with frost. "I heard the North has grown superstitious."
Job's hand went to his sword. "You should've stayed in the shadows you built."
Peter chuckled softly. "Ah, but that's where I do my best work."
He turned to Althea, his voice lowering. "You've changed, my sweet. The river looks good on you."
"Father," she said coldly. "Why are you here?"
"To warn you. And to claim what's mine."
Althea's pulse stilled. "What do you mean?"
Peter's smile deepened. "The curse you carry it didn't start with you. It started with me."
Job's sword hissed from its sheath. "You're lying."
But Althea didn't move.
Because in her dreams, she'd already seen this moment his voice, the river, the blood.
The Mockingbird's Confession
Peter stepped closer, his tone almost gentle.
"When I made a pact with the river, I asked it to give me a legacy that would never die. It gave me you."
Althea felt the world tilt. "You bound me before I was born."
He nodded. "A daughter born of whispers and prophecy the perfect tool. But the gods love irony. You inherited their curse and their hatred for me."
Job moved between them. "If you ever loved her"
"Love?" Peter laughed softly. "I don't deal in love. I deal in survival. The Starks believe in honor, the Targaryens in fire but I believed in her. The girl who could hold both."
Althea's voice trembled with fury. "You used me."
"I created you," he said. "But I see now the gods have rewritten the story. You're no longer my daughter, are you?"
The wind shifted, and the river answered whispering like laughter beneath ice.
The Betrayal
That night, the camp burned.
Althea woke to screams shadows crawling from the treeline, their eyes burning pale blue.
Job fought like a storm, cutting down the first wave, but they kept coming and behind them, a shape rose from the river, half-human, half-antlered.
The Black Stag.
He spoke with Peter's voice. "The pact is broken. Blood for blood."
Althea tried to use the river's power, but it turned against her, her veins freezing as if the curse itself had been reversed.
Job caught her as she fell to her knees. "Fight it!"
"I can't he's using me."
The stag-thing smiled. "You bound yourself, girl. You are the bridge. And bridges burn."
The River's Judgment
In desperation, Job plunged his sword into the river itself.
The steel hissed, steam rising.
The river roared not with anger, but memory.
And in that moment, Althea saw everything: her birth beneath a blood moon, her father's whispering bargain, her life replayed through water and shadow.
She screamed, and the frost shattered.
The Black Stag staggered backward as her body glowed with icy fire a storm of blue and crimson light tearing the curse from her veins.
Peter's voice echoed from the creature's mouth
"You'll destroy yourself."
Her eyes blazed. "Then I'll destroy you first."
She raised her hands and the river rose with her.
It swallowed the creature whole, dragging it beneath the ice.
When silence fell, only she and Job remained breathless, trembling, and soaked in crimson water.
The Aftermath
By morning, the river had frozen over.
Job sat beside the dying fire, watching her silently.
"Is it done?" he asked.
Althea stared at the frozen current. "No. He's part of me now. I just buried him deeper."
Job's jaw tightened. "Then we'll dig him out together."
She smiled faintly. "That's dangerous talk, Snow."
"I've been dangerous since birth," he said.
For the first time in weeks, she laughed.
But the laughter didn't last long because in the frost, faint and cold, she heard it again:
"When the river freezes, she will rise."
And the ice cracked just once.