He stared at the brazier before him, the flames lashing against the grates. Her voice fresh upon his ear with the words that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

I knew you would betray me.

He could still feel the warm dribble of blood that his fingers found at the crease of her lips. His arms still held the full weight of her crumbling beneath him at her last breaths. Her vacant eyes darkening as the fire inside her died. An Oathbreaker. A Queenslayer. A Kinslayer. Whether this would work or not, could she ever forgive his betrayal?

"Stare long enough into the flames, Your Grace, and the Lord of Light will give you the answers you seek."

Startled by the voice breaking the silence in his small cabin, he stood in a haste, his chair scraping against the wood floor and his hand flexing over the hilt at his waist. Recognition stilled his hands as his breath slowly evened out. Kinvara. The Red Priestess. He beckoned her to enter.

"Forgive me my lady, I was lost in thought." He gestured for her to take a seat beside the fire.

"There is no need for apology, Your Grace, I'm sure there is much to think on."

"I am not a king," the words sharp, leaving no room for disagreement. But unlike Melisandre, Kinvara held an assurance that cut at his resolute stance.

"Perhaps, not of these realms. But you have been chosen. And those chosen must serve."

"Valar Dohaeris." He remembered the phrase in High Valyrian that the Unsullied would shout in response to their queen's Valar Morghulisbefore formation drills on Dragonstone. One of the nights that they spent wrapped in each other's arms on the ship to Winterfell, he had asked her what the exchange meant.

'All men must die, Jon Snow,' she said as her fingertips traced the prominent scars on his chest as they laid naked facing each other in her bed. She placed a lingering kiss on his lips and drew away taking his breath with her. 'And all men must serve.'

The fool in him could only bite his lower lip and stare at her in awe. The silver haired queen who'd chosen to love his poor, jagged heart and who had set his soul afire. He cupped her face in his hand and brought her near taking her lips into his. He could still taste the salt and tart of her on his tongue. Surely, he didn't deserve the love she was offering but he made a promise that everyday he would earn it. With a hungry grunt he pulled away and smiled into her eyes. While he would gladly take her again, a part of him craved nothing more than to learn more about this otherworldly woman.

'Why not say it the other way around? Service comes before death. In death, there is nothing and no one to serve.' He knew this to be true. Death was empty and lonely.

He could tell she knew where his mind had drifted. Her hand stopped just above his heart. 'Then tell me, Jon Snow, if there is no service in death, how are you here? You died and then you rose. You came back to fight for the living. You made that sacrifice.'

'We've made a sacrifice, Dany. We're both alive and we're fighting together.' His finger tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her ear.

'Together?' She exhaled deeply. 'Before you, I felt so alone in this world. Coming to Westeros was supposed to feel like coming home. But at best, I felt like a stranger, at worst, a foreign conqueror with only a name.' A sound near to a laugh escaped her but it was one of the saddest sounds he'd ever heard. 'That is, until I met you.' His heart sang as his eyes found the truth in hers. 'And now I can't help but think that it's me and you against an evil this world hasn't seen in ages. I am grateful to give my life to that purpose. You are alive, Jon. There is no greater service than what you've given since you died'

Her eyes pleaded with him to trust in her words and he couldn't deny her. 'Aye, My Queen."

He claimed every inch of her skin that night and he had never felt more alive than in that moment.

But, their service wasn't over yet. "Are you sure he heads for Eastwatch?"

"Yes. The fire that runs through his blood will lead him there. And there, you will find your queen." The broad smile that illuminated Kinvara's face was confident though until she was in his arms once more, the question would linger in his mind.

He sunk deeper into his seat, his eyes retreating to the fire hoping their boat could catch favorable winds. If so, they'd make landfall in two days, another four to get to the cave. And then? What if it doesn't work?

"Raise the dragon, for his reign will bring the reckoning. Upon your ashes, he shall rise." Pulled from his thoughts, he sought her eyes in question. Those were the words written on the burnt scroll in Lord Varys' chambers. "You don't need to believe in the Lord for his will to be met. Many have been claimed by the fire so that you could fulfill your destiny. Bringing Daenerys Targaryen back to this world is a part of that destiny."

A scoff escaped him. Destiny, fate, prophecy. Words that until recently meant nothing to him. All because one all-knowing being wanted to control the world and he and Dany had drawn the short straws to stop him.

'But you, Lord Snow, you will be fighting their wars forever.' The last words spoken by Thorne were those of a cursed fate.

"You told me on Dragonstone that she had to die. That I had to be the one to do it. Why? Why couldn't it just be me, why couldn't I tell her?"

"I'm afraid the Queen was compromised. It had to be this way, as is the Lord's will. He will bring her back and then you'll both be liberated from the Three-Eyed Ravens hold."

"And after? If everyone is 'compromised', how do we build an army that we can trust? How can we possibly keep our plans from him?" He could feel the fire in him burning. How were they expected to win a war when the numbers were stacked against them?

"Your Grace, there is only one way that has ever worked. It took time and the sacrifice was great." Of course it wouldn't be easy.

"What sacrifice could your Lord want from us?" He stood and paced in front of the flame. His hand running down his face and around his beard.

"There has been only one other that has been able to amass a great army and threaten the rule of the greenseer. You, yourself, have faced him thrice before." He turned toward her and shook his head slowly in disbelief. There's no way. "He was defeated. But he was only one. Now there will be two. And you will succeed where he failed."

"No. No. I won't do it." His voice was raised higher than its ever been. His face twisted in disgust. "He murdered innocents. He stole babies and raised them into, into soldiers. He..."

"...was the only one stopping Bran Stark, and the one before him, from enslaving the world." She stood before him. Her eyes level with his. The bright red necklace around her throat glowed in the fires light. "The cost is great. It will take the lives of many. It will take hundreds, if not thousands of years. But it will save this world. There must be a balance and this is the only way."

"So we will be evil. We will be murderers. We will do our own enslaving." He thought of what Dany would think. The irony of her entire life working towards breaking chains culminating in becoming a slave master.

"It is not an easy life. Being a King never is. You will, however, get to choose how you rule your people, how you form your society. But the formation must be done."

He held his head down with his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't look at her anymore. He couldn't breath the same air as her anymore. He felt dirty and used. "I'd like to be alone."

"As you wish, Your Grace." She bowed low and purposefully before walking toward the the door. "You'll never be the hero of this story Jon Snow. And Daenerys Targaryen will never be the hero queen flying in on her dragon. They'll never know that you've saved the world. But you will save it."

With that, she took her leave and he was left standing in the shadows of his cabin.

He would take the entire journey north resigning himself to what would come to pass. He thought of Ned Stark and what he would think of his son. Would he be ashamed of who he would become? And Rhaegar and Lyanna? Is this what they wanted their baby boy to be? It didn't matter anymore. They were all dead. And their hopes and dreams with them.

He placed her naked on the hard rock as Kinvara had instructed. She was still as beautiful as the day he first saw her. Though now her face was haunted. Her skin was translucent and her lips were blue. And at the center of her chest was a deep knife wound, the one he'd given her. It was covered in ruby red droplets hardened in the cold. He bent over her and placed his lips near her ear. "Please forgive me," he whispered desperately before placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

After Kinvara said her words all he could do was wait. She'd said they'd do defeat the evil together and he hoped she'd remember her promise.