Jon
The situation before everyone could not be denied as awkward. Five people, all naked in a cold dank cell, holding each other to keep from freezing while one of them explained how he was murdered and brought back to life. Jon had finally unveiled what happened the night he died, how his brothers planted their knives into his body and the day of his reawakening.
"The thing I remember most wasn't the pain when I was stabbed, I was lying in the snow, cold and alone." No one said anything to him. What could they? "I think the worst part of it was when I first touched my scars. Seeing them made me hope I was dreaming, but feeling them made me know that I wasn't. I didn't want to be alive."
"Do you remember what it was like to cease living?" Yara asked. "When you were finally gone, what did feel like?" She sounded equally curios and scared to ask. Who wouldn't? Death was the most mysterious thing in the world. Everyone would experience it, but no one would be able to return to tell about it.
Jon hesitated, should anyone know what dying feels like? "It was like falling asleep except…" He thought back to that moment the light around him faded and he slipped into the nothingness. "I was begging to anyone who was listening that I would wake up."
Yara seemed to look out into the distance, pondering his words. "During the War of the Five Kings, I heard rumors about a group of outlaws. They were led by a man from House Dondarrion. They said he'd been killed by the Mountain at least five times."
"Six" Theon said. "When I was coming back to Pyke from Winterfell, some of the sailors on my ship talked about it as well."
"I don't give a damn how much he's died. The point is that he has. If it's true, maybe he could give you some answers." She said to Jon.
Jon shook his head. "I don't have any questions."
"That's a lie," she told him. "You don't die and come back without asking anything."
"You're right, I didn't. But I've buried whatever I wanted to know when my sister turned up at Castle Black. I'm alive again, and that's all I need to keep living." In all honesty, he didn't want to know more than that. If the Lord of Light really did bring him back for a purpose, then he probably should have told it Jon when he did. He didn't know what the damned god wanted him to do, so instead he was doing what he knew he could do.
Yara sighed, seeming to have lost progressing the conversation any further.
Daenerys finally spoke since she asked Jon the dreaded question. "What is it like North of the Wall?"
Jon looked at her from behind. She was right in front of him and she didn't turn to look at him as he held her. "Beautiful in a way." That seemed to get her attention. "When you're on the Wall looking north, seeing what you think is everything you possibly could see, and then you journey out to what lies beyond, it's amazing."
"It's not dangerous? Every day isn't a day of survival?" She asked as if she knew what the true north was like. She had yet to even see a real winter of the North.
"Aye, it's dangerous. But not every day was about survival." Despite all the journeys he went on in those lands, there were some that were fond memories. Camping at the Fist of the First Men, the cave, even reuniting with Ghost at Craster's. God's, he missed his direwolf now. He almost wished he brought him to Dragonstone. Daenerys would probably like to have met him.
"I heard a few words here and there about my father campaign in those lands." Jorah said. "But I never heard more."
Jon looked over to him. He knew Jorah wanted to know why his father went north to his death. "We went to investigate rumors of Wildlings gathering together into a massive army. On the way we stopped at a cabin that belonged to a wildling named Craster. It was there I first saw them."
"The White Walkers?" Theon asked. Just saying their name in the cell seemed to send shivers down everyone's spine. "Craster was known for his wives. When his wives gave him daughters, he'd marry them and they'd give him more daughters." Jon could feel the disgust everyone felt. "But his sons, they were a gift to the gods. I followed him one night into the woods. He carried his newborn son with him into the forest and left it there. Then I saw something take him, and then I saw its eyes, glowing a colder blue and looking back at me."
"Why was there a mutiny?" Jorah pressed.
Jon was surprised Jorah knew about the mutiny. From how he asked, he was rather uninterested in the range itself and more about what led to his father's death. "When we left the Wall, three hundred brothers made camp at the Fist of the First Men. They were meant to fight the Wildlings when they arrived, but the White Walkers got there first. Less than thirty survived and fewer made it back to Craster's keep. The men who were criminals before there oaths rebelled and killed everyone loyal to the Lord Commander. Only a few escaped."
"And where were you?" Jorah sounded like there better be a good explanation. He deserved one. As the Lord Commander's personal steward, it should have been Jon's duty to be there to protect him. But he wasn't.
"I was a prisoner of the Wildlings at the time. But I led a range to avenge your father. I want you to know that every mutineer found justice." Jorah seemed a bit relieved when he said that.
Jon was the only one who really did any talking for the next few hours, telling everyone about how he became a Wildling and the Battle of Castle Black. He seemed to attract the attention of some of the other prisoners in the cells. Sometimes there was the occasional question coming from someone who wasn't in the largest cell.
It was all cut short as four Ironborn guards entered the dungeon and opened their cell. "Your majesties," one of them mocked. "King Euron orders you to his presence." They held swords up to all of them, being cautious no one tried anything stupid.
"I can't walk." Daenerys reminded. The wound was already beginning its long process to heal, but it was still too early for her to walk on it without any pain or risk of ripping it open.
"It would be our pleasure to carry you" the Ironborn said, grinning maliciously as he eyed her breasts.
Jon stood up and reached down and grabbed hold of Daenerys, lifting her off the ground and into his arms. "I'm all she needs." He noticed her look at him, her brow arched. He realized how he worded that and turned a small hint of red for a moment before following the Ironborn. They closed the cell behind them and led them out of the cold dungeons. Some windows finally came into view and revealed the night sky. The stars were bright, and for a brief moment, Jon could see the moon. It wasn't yet full, but barely.
As they continued to walk back the Great Keep, Daenerys seemed to rest her head over Jon's chest. "Your heart's still beating," she whispered. What did she mean by that? Was she trying to say he was still alive, because he noticed a long time ago. And yet, it made him feel calm to hear her say that. "It's a good heart," she said.
Jon remembered something Ser Alliser told him at Castle Black. "You have a good heart, Jon Snow. And it's gonna get us all killed"' That was his curse it seemed. Every time he meant well and tried to do what was right, other people had to suffer for it. He was sure that wasn't what she meant though. It sounded as if she was glad that he was with her.
They finally entered the Great Keep and instead of sitting by his fire, Euron was standing at a table, looking down at something, but his body obstructed the view. He turned to them and smiled, as if greeting returning friends. "Now that is a lovely sight. A beautiful queen in the arms of her handsome king. It's like a bedtime story." He slowly walked over to them, but kept his distance as if constantly observing them. "Where are my manners, the queen must be feeling tired after her injury from this afternoon." He gestured to his chair by the fire. "Please, I insist."
Jon did not dare to try anything with this madman. He looked at the chair carefully, checking for anything that could be dangerous before he carefully placed Daenerys on the chair. She sat up as best she could and he stood in front of her, as if acting as a shield.
Euron looked at them both for a moment, before letting out a snort. He picked up a candle on another table to his side and walked up to Daenerys. Jon would've stepped in front of him, but he had to stay put as four crossbows were suddenly aimed at him.
Euron offered the candle out to Daenerys. "I've heard that fire doesn't even hurt when you touch it. Show me." Daenerys slowly accepted the candle and Jon looked at her as she silently moved her fingers slowly through the flame. Euron seemed legitimately surprised, "Remarkable. This is the first I've seen of something like this." He stood up and walked back to the table he was at earlier. "Tomorrow is the full moon, the day you'll all die. Well, all of them except you." He pointed directly at Daenerys. "I can't have your dragons burning down what will be mine very soon. Even if all I did was keep you as a prisoner, they would still wreak havoc upon us all once they've figured out where you are." He picked a box from a crate next to the table and reached inside and pulled out a glass bottle. It was a delicate clear glass, and inside was a green luminescent liquid. It wasn't wine for all Jon knew.
Euron uncorked the bottle and poured a drop of the liquid onto his finger. He grabbed a fresh candle and coated the tip with the substance and approached them again. "So the only solution, is wreak a little havoc of my own, a bit that even dragons will retreat in fear." He held his candle to the one Daenerys held and the candle ignited, but the flame was green.
Green fire, Jon heard about such a thing from Davos. He said it was called Wildfire and didn't hold back the details of how much of a destructive force it is.
Euron ogled at the color of the green before he immediately held it under Daenerys's arm. She gasped and dropped her candle, moving her arm out of the way. She looked at her arm and saw a shade of red where the green flame touched her. She felt it burn.
"What is that?" She asked.
He only smiled at her and whispered. "A fire so wild, it even burns dragons." He nodded at his guards and grabbed hold of Jon and pulled him away from Daenerys. Two other Ironborn grabbed her and yanked her from the chair and threw her onto the floor. She winced at the pain in her leg, but that was the least of their worries.
Euron grabbed the bottle on his desk and tossed it up in the air to himself, not afraid of it accidentally breaking. "You remember my last question in our little game. " His smile was too excited, waiting for what she had to say. "Don't lie this time. Is he in love with you?" He flicked a finger directly at Jon.
Jon froze for an instance. What kind of game was this? Why was Euron so interested? Did all he ever do was toy with his captives? He seemed very much bark but no bite.
But the question did linger on Jon's mind. He didn't even know for himself, it was too strange at the moment. Was he? He felt something whenever he was with her on Dragonstone, but then it all became a mess when he learned the truth of himself. He had so much on his mind. One thing that stayed the same though was that he always thought of her. In fact, he couldn't get her out of his head.
He then he remembered what Missandei told him on the beach. 'When Qhono gave you your sword, he said that any man who looks at the Khaleesi like the moon of his life would never hurt her.'
He then remembered what Davos told him when they had a moment away from the Painted Table. 'You're not goin because you need her help, you're not goin because she needs yours. It's not about the dead or Cersei or fucking battle ahead of us.'
'Davos-'
'You're goin because nothin in the world matters right now except her, does it?'
"Yes," Daenerys said. Jon looked at her and they shared a glance. She had that look of confessing a crime or a great guilt that weighed her down. She was right.
Euron seemed pleased. "Wonderful, let's see him prove it." Euron made to throw the bottle at Daenerys. Jon didn't even think, he just reacted and pulled himself free of the men who geld him. He wrapped himself in front of Daenerys, protecting her. The bottle broke against his back and he could feel the liquid wildfire start to burn already. The next thing he knew, a flame touched his back and the liquid ignited. He screamed out as he never had before. he had been burned before, but not like this, and this was not a natural fire, it was evil. He fell on his back and rolled on the floor, trying anything to extinguish the flames. He could smell his flesh starting to cook and it was horrible.
He caught a glance of Euron looking marveled before he gave a signal to his men. They carried large pouches of ash and threw them onto Jon, dousing the fire. It all felt worse than the knives. He stopped screaming, but he couldn't stop shaking. His breaths were rapid and the pain was so great.
Euron laughed as he took a deep smell of the room. "Cooked wolf! Smells delicious!" He gave a wave of his hands and his men grabbed Jon and Daenerys and began to carry them back to the dungeons.
The Ironborn didn't shy from grabbing at the burns. It felt like a thousand knives repeatedly stabbing into the back of Jon's shoulder. He yelled out every time they squeezed and openly cursed at anyone who could hear him.
When they returned to the cells, Daenerys was shoved in and Jon was tossed. Immediately, everyone surrounded Jon and gasped at his burns. The salt water on the floor seeped into the flesh and made the pain so much worse. He couldn't understand anything they were saying as they rolled him onto his front, but he knew they were panicking. He felt dazed and everything was beginning to blur. The only thing he could really focus on were his thoughts.
'Is this it? I don't want to die again, not yet, not here. I want to go home. I want to see my family. I want to see Ghost. I want to see my daughters.' The voices around him behind to be pieced together. He could start to hear them as he was turned over and sat up. They were careful not to touch his wounds.
Jon could barely move himself. His head drooped down like dead weight. 'I want to see the dragons. Ygris…. Lyarras... even Rhaegal. I wonder if he would let ride him, let me fly with him...' He wasn't sure how, but he began to see visions, all at once. He could see through his eyes, and the eyes of five others. He could see Ygris and Lyarras, flying over Winterfell. He could see Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion, flying over Dragonstone. But then it became more than that. He began to feel as well. He could feel the icy cold of the North and smell the scents of the woods and the earth while at the same time he felt the warmth of the south at Dragonstone and smelled the ocean.
"His eyes," he heard Theon say, "what's wrong with his eyes?"
The voices around him then became overshadowed by what was practically crying. Through the other eyes he looked out of, he could hear crying. Words kept repeating over and over. 'Where's mother? Where's father? Where's mother? Where's father?' Jon could feel the fear of the dragons. He felt them lost. They knew their parents were hurt but didn't know where to find them.
'Over here.' The thought seemed to strike all of their minds as they all looked out to the horizons that surrounded them. The thoughts then became muddled and the connection felt lost as Jon blacked out.
Things seemed to be like they were when he died, it was nothing. He was nothing. But all of that ended when he heard singing. A woman was singing. He recognized the voice, it was Daenerys. She was singing to him the song he sang to his dragons, and it was beautiful. It was something that made him want to wake up. His eyes started to blink open, the darkness of the dungeons was brighter than the nothingness of his sleep. He was on his side that wasn't burned, his head was resting on something soft, and he could feel a small hand, stroking through his hair. The pain finally rushed through him, but it was bearable now. Daenerys didn't seem to realize he had woken up, she just kept singing to him.
"Though the winds of winter blow
They will never scare the crow
For when the king comes striking down
Our steel will break his crown
And then the skies will fill with light
Our brothers have won the fight
And then the one who was lost shall win
And the greatest of ages shall begin
The wolves will howl and the dragons cry
Through fire and ice-"
"We will never die." He finished with a heavy breath.
"Jon!" She stopped stroking his hair as he looked up at he as best he could without feeling pain.
"How do you know that song?" He asked as Jorah, Yara, and Theon gathered around him.
"Never mind that, how do you feel?" She asked.
"Please, tell me." He asked. He didn't know if his wounds were fatal, but if they were he at least wanted an answer.
Daenerys gave him a worried look, but her eyes fell closed and she obliged. "I had a dream on Dragonstone before I met you, and then another one before I got here."
Jon felt that what she said would be surprising, but it wasn't. It actually brought half a smile to his face. It was becoming more frequent that there were more and more things connecting them. "How long was I out?" He groaned out.
"Almost a day. We're not sure." Theon explain.
"Jon," Daenerys sounded sad, "we're not sure when, but Euron in planning an execution soon."
"He'll kill all of us except for Daenerys and Yara." Jorah commented. "And it's not going to clean."
"They said you were practice," Yara added.
Jon sighed, upset at the answer. "Wildfire."
"Well," Yara shrugged, "there are worse ways to go. Eaten alive by sharks, ripped in half, hanged by your own entrails."
"Would you shut up?" Jorah scowled.
"Just lightening the outlook."
Jon spoke as loud as he could, though it wasn't that much. "We're not going to die."
"Face what's in front of you, bastard." Yara scowled at him, at all of them. "There's no hope at all and no one is coming for us."
"No," Theon said, "there's still a chance. They only found one of the blades I had."
Everyone looked over to Theon. There was nowhere he could had hidden the blade. It was very thin and small, but they were all as naked as they could be. "Where's the other one?" Jon finally asked.
Theon turned his left arm over and they could barely see the shape of something underneath his skin. There was a cut that was constantly picked at so it wouldn't heal. No one had any words to say. He actually hid a fucking knife under his skin. "We might not live through all of this, but we can make sure Euron doesn't either."
