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The Hunted Lady
Avila huddled in a corner of a street, trying to remain hidden. The damned soldier just had to give a detailed description of her and now that thrice damned king had the whole kingdom looking for her.
The soldiers made one round, two rounds, three rounds, before leaving. Avila let out a breath.
Only to be seized by a soldier that had crept quietly to her right amidst all the chaos.
Avila tried to throw his hand off her, but he shouted for help and soon Avila was kicking and struggling in their grasp.
'Let-go-of-me!'
The soldier laughed. 'The little lady thinks she can command me. You damned me that day, little bird. Your disguise was a little too good for me.'
Avila could feel panic mounting as she recognized the man as the same guard that had guarded Jon's door when she murdered the boy. She forced herself to remain calm.
'I don't know what you're talking about.'
The soldier roared with laughter. 'You don't know? You will know soon enough…in the dungeons.'
With that, the soldier and the others pulled her to the castle, with Avila kicking and struggling all the way.
The Lady in Mail
Brienne was surprised to see that a boy, no more than one and twenty, had eaten the Rose Berries and survived. The berries were named for their nice appearance but deadly poison.
Brienne was even more surprised to see that the rumored dragons were currently burning a few trees in her backyard.
They were supposed to have launched an attack on Kings' Landing that day, then lying low in the east, or the north, but not Sapphire Isles.
She was dressing herself in mail when she heard the roar of a dragon. Brienne suspected that her hearing had messed up, but when the second roar came she decided that her sparring lessons could wait.
She had picked her way cautiously through the trees, hacking at the vines. She had arrived just in time to see the boy fall.
Brienne tended to the boy herself, sparring lessons forgotten. Still, it was amazing that this boy still managed to survive and be in a stable condition now.
Brienne hacked at the straw dummy, cutting it in half with one strike, earning her praise from her trainer. However, her thoughts were far away in the corner chamber of the castle…
Eddard
Ned paced up and down in front of the cell.
'Can you just stop it?' Avila asked, irritated.
'No.' Ned said, and then resumed his pacing. He had hoped that the girl will know something about the cure, and the king apparently had a knack for overhearing things, because the next day lordships and dragons were offered for the girl alive. But then she had refused to say anything concerning the cure ever since her arrival in the cheery dungeons. They had planned to try torture, but decided against it. The girl could be their only way of saving Jon. So Ned settled on irritating her instead.
But the girl would not speak. She only spoke when demanding something, but never gave any information.
Sighing, Ned left. He felt helpless. Vital information was right in front of them, and they had no way of obtaining it.
Arya
Arya wanted to cry. Her big brother, the one who loved to muss her hair, lift her onto his lap, sometimes even starting fights for her, barely had enough strength to talk.
'Little sis…'his voice was barely a whisper.
Arya swallowed a sob. 'Don't die while I'm gone. I'm going to help dad wrest the truth out of her. Don't die. Promise.'
'Promise.'
Arya slipped her hand out of Jon's burning one and dashed down the stairs, sobs blinding her.
I will make him better, she told herself fiercely. I'm going to beat the truth out of her if I have to.
Jon Snow will not die.
The Lady in the Cell
No one could imagine her surprise when Arya Stark flung herself into the cell and clung onto Avila.
'Please,' she sobbed. 'Pl-please.'
It dawned onto Avila what she was here for. Avila tried desperately to harden her heart, but then she remembered her own sister, clinging to her sobbing on the Burning Day, as she called it.
'I don't wanna die!' Laila wailed, clinging to Avila, guards trying to drag her away. Avila fought to maintain a hard grip on her little sister, kicking and biting at the guards, desperately trying to protect her sister.
'Hush, Laila,' Lady Viten said, already bound to the stake, face sorrowful. 'It will be over in the blink of an eye.'
Laila only wailed louder and pressed her face into her sister's skirt.
All of a sudden Laila seemed to break. Dashing into the sea of guards, she caused a commotion big enough to draw most of the guards away from the only Viten left abound aside from herself.
'Aliva, nur!' Laila yelled. It was an old game of them to say the letters in words from left to right, but now it meant life and death.
Swallowing a sob, Avila took a last look back at her sister. Her father nodded slightly.
Avila gathered up her skirts and ran, the guards only noticing when Laila was subdued. They shouted for someone to get her, but she was far away by then.
Looking back, Avila saw the smoke rising. She could still hear Laila's screams in her mind.
Crouching under a tree, she vowed to get revenge for her family on her tears.
But turning back to the present, how could she refuse this little girl?
Especially one who looks so much like Laila.
Taking a deep breath, Avila whispered to the wide-eyed girl all she knew.
Jon
Every little movement sent jolts of pain along his body. Jon couldn't even scream. Most of his strength had been ripped away from him as well. Just breathing felt like lifting a very heavy pail of water.
Jon could feel his grip on life starting to slip. He clung onto it desperately, but it was more like trying to hold sand in your hands. The more you try to hold on, the more it goes.
He heard discussions, snatches of conversations like: 'Stark blood,', 'Targaryen blood,', and 'Dany.'
His mind tried to piece it together, but it just couldn't. He did remember some things, however.
All of a sudden his body had started burning like mad last week. The milk of the poppy didn't help anymore. Dreamwine wasn't any better.
Every moment of life felt like pure torture. And yet he still clung on.
For my family.
Okay, because I don't have any idea how to write it, I'm just telling you all straight out. George is staying on the Sapphire Isles till old age with Brienne, and won't come out again unless I feel the need for him to. Poor George is made just because a dragon needed three heads.
Daenerys
She sailed west as fast as possible, wanting to get the cure to Jon as fast as possible.
Blood of a Stark. Blood of a Targaryen. Three drops precisely. Mix them together. When the mixture is fully blended, burn it. Then take a torch and light it with the same fire. Burn the boy with it.
Dany couldn't believe her eyes at first. Burn him? Won't that only make matters worse?
But blood had deep magic that was not to be underestimated, and Dany went anyway.
Bursting into the palace, she skidded to a stop. It was massive. Dany felt belittled by it.
It was then she realized that she had completely no idea where to go.
'What is she doing here?' a voice barked. Dany spun to see a guard towering over her. The guard grabbed her wrist.
'Ser, I meant no harm, just-'
'No harm?' the guard roared with laughter. 'The last wench who claimed to be harmless nearly killed Jon Snow.'
Another guard scrutinized Dany. 'She looks pretty. Might make a lot of money.'
Dany felt goose pimples pricking up. 'Unhand me!'
'I think not.'
Dany was starting to despair when her most unlikely savior came.
'Let her go.'
The guards immediately let go of Dany. 'Your Grace.'
Robert Baratheon looked sad, pale and tired, which was not what Dany expected the Usurper to look like. 'Send her to Jon Snow's chambers. And see that no one treats her badly, or I'll have your heads.'
The guards gulped.
Dany turned to leave when the king called out, 'Daenerys?'
She turned.
'I'm sorry about the spell. I wasn't clear in the head and-well, I have to admit that I was jealous of Rhaegar and hated House Targaryen. Blood magic took its toll on me as well. Remind me never to do it again.' He smiled ruefully. 'I'm trying to make amends now, so don't tempt me into killing you.'
Dany stared in astonishment for a moment. Finally, gracing the king with a small smile, she turned and left.
The guards ushered Dany to Jon's room with all the respect they could offer. Dany smirked inwardly. Where was their respect five minutes before?
When they reached Jon's chamber, the guards bowed low enough for their heads to touch the floor while ushering her in making Dany almost burst out laughing. Instead, she composed herself and managed a stiff nod at both of them before entering.
Any ounce of cheerfulness in her disappeared when she entered. There were only two people in the room, and the state of one of them made Dany suck in her breath.
Dany didn't want to believe it. The boy who had almost wasted away to nothing on the bed wasn't Jon Snow. True, she had only known him a few days, but it just doesn't fit. Daring, cheerful Jon Snow isn't the boy they said he was now.
'Queen Daenerys.' Ned rose from his position beside the bed. He looked thinner and paler. Mayhaps it was because of Jon.
'Lord Stark. Formal as ever, I see.' Dany managed a smile.
'The deed must be done quickly.' Ned told her. 'Jon doesn't have enough time.'
Taking a look at one another, Ned took out the cup and his dagger. Dany took out her own dagger.
With one deft slice, they cut their finger open together and held it above the cup.
One drop…two drops…three drops.
They quickly withdrew their hands, and Ned took out a spoon and proceeded to stir it. Dany noticed that Ned's blood was darker than hers.
With an agonizing slowness, the mixture finally blended. Ned poured it into the brazier. The flames crackled.
Dany fetched the torch and lit it with the flames from the brazier.
Now came the hard part.
Dany cursed herself for even wanting to do such a thing, but there was no choice. Slowly, she put the torch to the boy's skin, telling herself not to look at the Lord of Winterfell. She might just start crying if she saw his expression.
Jon screamed, even though he was supposed to be in an unconscious state. Dany flinched, but did not remove the torch. She cursed herself madly, and Jon screamed on.
Dany had told herself not to cry, but she did. Ned was crying too, as he held Jon down and did his best to speak in soothing tones to the boy, Jon quietened down a bit at the sound of his voice, but as soon as Dany tried to burn him again, Jon began screaming and struggling again.
After five long minutes that felt like hours, Jon let out one last drawn out scream before falling limp onto the bed.
Unsure of the next step, Dany looked at Ned.
That was when the light erupted from Jon's body.
Sorry…just felt like a good place to end. Besides, I needed to change point of views between two characters in the same place without feeling awkward.
