The Frozen Sea is as cold as the bones of a dead man, gray and thunderous in its choppy, murky depths. The tall, wooden ship cuts through the waves like a knife, gliding past the porous, jagged rocks of the mainland cliffside.

The seven stand on the deck, bundled in furs and woolen clothes, peering out under hoods at the clashing sea. High above them, Tara's bird soars, its golden-tipped wings fluttering against the cutting wind. Today, the captain promised, today they will see the snow-capped tips of Eastwatch.

Even with the nauseatingly relentless rock of the boat it would be difficult for the other six to be more relieved than Allayria to reach the shore. The week of endless dark blue water has brought back old nightmares of sinking down into the deep, of water pressing blackly against mouth and nose, and of dead things, pale and lidless, slipping between the waves. Sleep has become a fractured twilight, evaporating with sharp bitterness every time her bleary gaze touches on the moonlight filtering through the misty window, on the shadows passing over her. It is a reminder of another time spent below deck, of lying awake in the gray night, listening to a heartbeat beneath her ear. The loneliness is a palpable thing.

As eager as she is to touch the solid earth again, Allayria is anxious about what comes next. From Eastwatch they will make a slow, perilous journey to Abadi Chaudri's secret base. And then... they'll do something.

In all the other crazy things she's done in her life, there has been a plan. Sometimes strung together haphazardly, sometimes shattering upon impact, leaving the planners to improvise in the moment, but she's never gone in without a plan.

She would like to remedy this—Lei, with all his live-wire energy, would love to remedy this—but their overwhelming problem is that there are no details to plan with. The location and scant details of what might be there are all they have, and it's not nearly enough to come up with something that would make Allayria comfortable. The best she was able to do was procure seven Jarles uniforms. They have been practicing under the deck. Practicing the way she had once before, the way she had with...

The tip of her nose stinging with chill, Allayria passes her mitted hand over her eyes.

No more memories, she tells herself. I can't do this forever.

Someone shuffles behind her and Allayria turns to see Hiran disappearing below deck. Probably to start making dinner. They had all learned, between quickly becoming tired of dry jerky and enthusiastically supporting Tara's almost unnerving ability to catch fish, that the only person amongst them with any talent in the kitchen was Hiran. He grouses about it, but Allayria sees the smug way he watches Tara chomp into the seasoned meat.

"H-he promised we'd be there by nightfall," Fae mumbles between furs, turning toward Allayria.

"We've had rough water," she answers, and Fae groans.

"Does that mean we'll have to spend another night on here?"

"I'm not," Tara says darkly. "I'll go sleep in a snowdrift if I have to."

"You'd die of hypothermia," Caj interjects.

The Beast-caller's brown, long-lashed eyes flicker over to him and his bare hands.

"Not if you come with me and keep us warm."

"Count me in too," Fae moans and, beneath all the furs of his coat, Caj's form stiffens.

"No one's wandering off into a snowdrift," Allayria says shortly. "The rest of us would have to drag your frozen bodies up to Eastwatch and then you'd take entirely too long to thaw out."

"I'm going to need time to thaw out anyway," Tara mutters.

"If we have to stay on the boat another night it won't be as bad as on the open water," Lei interrupts, though he doesn't look back at any of them. "The tide isn't as rough close to shore."

There's some grumbling over this, but the smell of frying fish wafts up from below and, led by their stomachs, the others disappear below deck.

Resisting the allure, Allayria steps forward.

"Is that true?" she asks Lei. "The stuff you said about the tide."

Lei's cool brown eyes flicker her way then back, behind them.

"No idea," he admits and Allayria laughs.

True to her word, she has not spoken of Abadi Chaudri to Lei, nor has she said anything to the others. She has kept a close eye on him though, watching for tell-tale signs of anxiety, but aside from some grumpiness with their current situation, he's been his usual stiff-necked self.

"Have you ever been to Eastwatch before?" Allayria asks him.

"No."

"Do you know anything about it?"

"It's a large military base located on the border of Jarles, housing the majority of Roften's arctic forces, with large, internal furnaces to keep the floors livable. That and the thick casing of ice around it traps the heat in, providing—"

"I meant something useful," Allayria says dryly. "Who runs it, what they're like, how easy it is to get out."

He glances at her.

"General Grismen holds Eastwatch," he says. "He came to Bear's Spear a couple of years ago. He's a hard man."

Allayria holds his gaze for a moment. If Lei thinks he is gruff, the man has to be half bear.

"Do you think he will cause problems?" she asks.

Confusion wrinkles across Lei's face.

"He has his orders," he states and Allayria sighs.

They reach the shoreline an hour after the suns set. None of them quite fool enough to attempt the steep, slick trek in the dead of night, the team resigns itself to another night on the boat.

"Asf long asf itsh not too roufgh," Tara says between mouthfuls, "I can livef with it."

Finn, watching her with open-mouthed fascination, misses with his fork and the square of fish falls onto his lap.

"I can't imagine it will be," Hiran says smoothly, leaning back against the wooden backing of the bench, stretched out like a fat cat in sunlight. He has a superior look about him as he pushes some more cooked seaweed onto Tara's plate.

"We should all try to get a full-night's rest," Allayria says, feeling a bit like a hypocrite because she knows with absolute certainty she will not. "We should be sharp for the climb tomorrow."

As suspected, the hike up to Eastwatch the following morning is a slow, treacherous ordeal. After sending Tara's hawk back to Bear's Spear with news of their arrival, the seven ascend. Laden with all of their things and joints stiff from the piercing wind, the group trudges along the narrow, frozen path, shoulders scraping the freezing mountainside. Caj and Allayria are out in front, taking turns burning a path through the knee-high snow.

Toward the end, they have to truly climb, scrambling up ice and clammy rock, mitts clutching arm sleeves, arms heaving bodies up over ledges, heads lying back in the snow, panting.

The ice is so thick up here it's a cold, bright blue, something that doesn't quite look real to the naked eye. It stands, tall and chilly, looming up over them as the gates of Eastwatch swing open.

A/N: A little reminder of winter as we finally (finally) start to see some spring here. I am already ready for the summer. Bring on the shorts weather, swimming, and almost-accidental-death-by-sunburn. I want to go outside and commune with nature!

And then promptly come back inside, where there's air conditioning.

Also, Tara is my spirit animal. See you all next week.