"Ser Jorah Mormont is Azor Ahai reborn."
Arya blinked stupidly at Bran, then looked to Sansa. This was the third, perhaps the fourth time Bran said the words. There was no mincing his statement, but Arya had a hard time believing it. Dead people, dragons, faceless men. There wasn't much that she didn't believe these days, but this felt like a stretch, possibly because she so desperately believed she was Azor Ahai.
Sansa was staring at Bran, her face pale and his utterly neutral. When Bran summoned them to the weirdwood with the promise of urgent news, the sisters ran, fear and excitement hanging in the air around them. News. News. The war was either over or about to begin. This was something else entirely.
"No," Sansa mumbled breathlessly, speaking for the first time. "That – that can't be. He didn't love her anymore." She found her fierceness again. "He didn't. And Azor Ahai is supposed to have a flaming sword. Beric Dondarrion died with his flaming sword." She jutted her chin out and crossed her arms. "He can't be Azor Ahai. Jorah's going to return to Winterfell and be my lord. He promised."
Bran regarded her for a moment, then inclined his head slightly. "There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world." He spoke with a calm knowing that chilled Arya further. "In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him."
"We know the story," Arya clucked. "But it was me. I killed the Night King. Even the Red Woman knew. I shut the blue eyes forever."
Bran's patience was bountiful. "The Three Eyed Raven has no reason to lie." His voice was kind. He waited for another rebuttal.
Arya pursed her lips. House Stark was supposed to be who took back the north, who defeated the evil and saved Westeros. Still, nothing could take her victory away. Arya Stark would always be the one who defeated the Night King. Father would have been so proud.
"It is what it is, whether we accept it or not," Bran offered as a say all end all.
"Then it must be true," Sansa muttered. She looked to Bran, her voice pleading and eyes full of loss and sorrow she knew so well. "Now what must he do?"
Bran allowed her a moment, then spoke kindly. "Ser Jorah plunged a Valyrian steel sword through Daenerys's heart. His love for her was pure and true like Azor Ahai's love for Nissa Nissa, but his love for humanity was greater. That was his destiny. It is fulfilled."
Sansa nodded numbly.
"And what about Jon?" Arya asked defensively. "He loved her too, the big stupid. He could have killed her, too. Would that have made him Azor Ahai? A bunch of different people can't be the same hero reborn. Jon is the prince who was promised. If it's not me, it has to be him."
As if it were the most obvious thing on the planet, Bran stared at her and explained slowly: "Jorah Mormont is Azor Ahai. The man you know as Jon Snow still has important work ahead of him. Aegon Targaryen is the Last Dragon."