"There are no demon gods," corrects, not with anger but a sort of impatient primness. "There are gods. And I am war, and you have always been with war. No matter how much of me they chain here, I am my sister's shadow. I am the eyes where she is blind. I am the screaming when she is silent, and the silence when she cheers. Everything forgotten and everything denied by those who fly their banners high, that is mine. Traitors and lies and atrocities, yes. And you, too, whatever you were too brave to swallow that no one wanted to hear."

He presses a soft kiss to the corner of Fives' mouth, and his lips feel almost perfectly human, except for the shape of the teeth underneath them, and running a few degrees too hot.

"Tell me your name, wildling. What would you ask me for it?"