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Chapter 62
JON
Jon Snow stood atop Dragonstone's battlements alone, the sea breeze a cool caress on his face.
He came here often to think. To wonder how things were in Winterfell with Sansa in charge. How Selene was faring on the other side of the world. How much closer the Night King was to the Seven Kingdoms.
He looked down to the scrap of paper in his hand.
To the King in the North, Jon Snow…
Jon could hardly believe the words scribbled in Sansa's own hand. Bran and Arya are alive. Where have they been all these years? How did Bran see that Night King and live? Jon was desperate to return to his siblings, to prepare his people for what was coming, but he was stuck on this cold and miserable island. At least we've mined enough dragonglass to arm ourselves several times over. He had Daenerys to thank for that.
As if he conjured her from thought, the dragon queen approached.
She really is beautiful, Jon thought. Her silver hair always seemed to catch the light, her violet eyes so unnatural and haunting…Jon knew she was beautiful the same way he knew Arianne Martell and Myrcella were…but none of them made his stomach flip. Just one look in his direction, and Selene made him feel like a boy again, like a bastard hopelessly in love with a princess. He had grown accustomed to her absence over the years, but it was much harder now they had reunited. Selene had burst into his life again, making everything more colorful, hopeful, and bright, and now she was gone. Jon fiddled with the moonstone around his neck, trying to ignore the worry that gnawed in his stomach.
"My lord."
She's never acknowledged me as a king. "Your Grace."
Daenerys' eyes fell to the moonstone. "We've just received a letter from Casterly Rock."
Jon's pulse quickened. "What did it say?" he blurted.
Daenerys smiled, "She's taken the Rock."
Jon breathed a great sigh of relief. "Of course she has," he said proudly.
"A great deed merits a great reward," Daenerys said, "When she returns I'm going to make her Princess of Dragonstone."
Jon's mouth felt dry. "She deserves it."
"That she does." Daenerys agreed, She paused for a moment, "You're not going to ask how I can make a Baratheon, the daughter of the man who overthrew my family, Princess of Dragonstone? When I have my brother's son in my keeping?"
Jon grimaced, "I can imagine how."
Daenerys looked away, "I know it may be hard to believe, but I am sorry. I remember what it felt like to be in love. I wouldn't have let anything come between us."
We didn't. Jon thought, but kept quiet.
"What if I told you there was a way for everyone to get what they want?"
Jon turned, "How?"
Daenerys was unreadable. "When you bend the knee, you could rise as Jon Snow, King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, if you so choose."
Jon blinked, "What?"
"We'll never have children." Daenerys continued as if he hadn't spoken, "but we could rule for decades, until I pass. Then the crown will go to Aegon and Selene, and their children after them." Daenerys looked amused at his stunned face, "I know the custom is to kneel, but you'll understand if I refrain."
"You…you're…proposing to me? But what about Ser Garlan? Or a Martell? Surely-"
"We make alliances with our enemies, not our friends."
"I'm not your enemy."
"You're not my friend."
"I still don't understand how this gives everyone what they want. It's not what I want," Jon cleared his throat, "no offense to Your Grace. And you know it's not what Selene wants."
"Not at first," Daenerys said, "but think for one moment. We'll all be living in King's Landing. You'll enjoy each other's company-"
"-and come nightfall we climb into another's bed."
"For a time."
"A time?"
Daenerys nodded, "All I need are a dozen years or so. A few heirs. Just to continue my family line. Then you're free."
Jon gaped at her. She can't be saying what I think she's saying.
"It's not unheard of for husbands and wives to live apart. Once I have my heirs, you and Selene may leave court and live together in peace."
Jon shook his head, "That's madness."
"Is it?" Daenerys argued. "The way I see it, it's either this, or a lifetime apart."
"You're asking Selene to lie with a man she doesn't love. For years. You're agreeing to marry someone who loves another."
"No one is happy, so it's a good compromise."
"Does Aegon know of this idea?"
Daenerys grimaced, "No, he doesn't."
"I have a feeling he might object to being a cuckhold. I still don't understand why you insist Selene has to marry him. Your Grace could legitimize Aegon and marry him to another highborn girl."
Daenerys gave him a wry smile, "You've been speaking to Selene about this."
"Of course I have."
"The answer is simple. I trust her." When Jon stared at her, Daenerys continued, "Ever since I met Aegon, he's been pushing his rights. Pushing for a place at the table, the chance to ride a dragon, insisting on a marriage between us…but he has no definite proof that he's my brother's son. For all I know, he's a Lyseni child raised to believe he's a lost prince. And he has no experience. He doesn't know what's it's like to rule, to have men bleed and fight and die for you. But Selene knows. Did she ever tell you why she bent the knee?"
Jon nodded, "She thinks you're the best chance the Seven Kingdoms has for peace."
Daenerys smiled warmly, "You know how stubborn that girl can be. She's proud to a fault, and sometimes I'm convinced she'd rather die than change her mind…but she knelt. She knew Westeros would be safe in my hands, so she bent the knee. From that moment, I knew she would put the needs of her people before herself. I ask you, who else is better suited to raise the future kings and queens of Westeros?"
Jon had no answer.
"I don't just want House Targaryen to continue after I'm gone. I want my family to deserve the crown. I want the people to be proud of their rulers. The people love her, the lords respect her. They don't know or trust Aegon. I need her."
Jon's mind was whirling. A dozen or so years of watching Selene with another. Watching her bear and raise and love another's man children. But I would see her every day, and speak with her, spar with her, laugh with her…Was that better than never seeing her again? And for a dozen years. It seems like lifetime now, but would we care when we're old and grey? How old would we be by then? Thirty? One and thirty years old? We'd have the rest of our lives together.
Daenerys saw his hesitation. "Speak with Selene."
Jon frowned, "It's not my idea, Your Grace."
"From me it will sound like a command, from you a solution. Consider it."
"I-"
"Stop! You're hurting him!"
Jon turned, "Selene?"
Daenerys frowned, "What?"
Jon's eyes were to the sky, "I didn't know she was back."
"She's not. She-"
Jon didn't hear the rest, because Selene's voice was so clear she could have been standing right beside him.
"Because," Selene sounded pleased with herself, "No dragon ever had two riders."
What is happening? Jon thought, right before he felt a familiar, sharp pain in his chest.
Jon cried out in agony, clutching his side. He was dimly aware of Daenerys calling for help, but he wasn't on Dragonstone anymore. He was on a white sand beach with a handful of men, Rhaegal, and…Selene stood staring in shock at a man with a knife in her chest, just under her left breast.
"Selene!" Terror froze Jon where he stood.
She looked down, confused, as a disheveled man with an eyepatch freed his knife, and wiped her blood on the sleeve of his shirt.
A tall, thin man with waist-length hair sighed in exasperation. "You really are ridiculous, you know that? How are we going to explain this to Cersei?"
Selene fell to her knees, her hand on the wound. Rhaegal roared as the madman shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about, brother. The girl died when she feel from her dragon." He kicked at Selene's shoulder, and she fell backwards on the sand.
White-hot rage lanced in Jon's chest. Rhaegal attacked the closest man, but Jon couldn't care less about them.
He finally found his feet. Jon rushed to Selene's side and knelt where she lay bleeding on the sand. "Selene? Selene!" Please, gods, let her hear me.
Selene turned her head. Recognition flashed in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but only a high pitched squeak and blood came out.
Panic shot through him, but Jon tried to keep calm, "Gods. Selene you have to get up. Get up right now and escape!"
Selene shook her head. She doesn't give up. She can't give up. Not now.
Jon was suddenly reminded of a time long ago, the first time he glimpsed the true steel beneath the beautiful façade.
Selene struggled beneath him, trying to buck him off. "Let me go," she said though grit teeth, her dark eyes shining with tears.
Jon couldn't hide his frustration, "You won't ever stop fighting, will you?" he asked, half infuriated, half impressed.
Selene's jaw locked, "No, I won't." She thrust her knee into his stomach.
He let out a groan of pain, but kept his grip.
Rage burst in his chest, but who his rage was truly meant for, even he did not know. "Do you know what?" he yelled in her face.
Selene's eyes burned with defiance, and Jon suddenly realized how close they were. His fingers burned where he touched her, and he found himself leaning forward, until…
He was kissing her.
It was brief, and he felt clumsy and ridiculous, but Jon could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He could still taste the wine from the skin they had shared earlier. When he pulled away, Selene's eyes were as wide and shiny as polished shields.
Jon froze, unsure what to do or say as reality set in. I've kissed a princess of the realm, he realized in panic. I'm a bastard…and I…I-
"Selene…" he mumbled, an apology on his lips.
He never said it. Selene's eyes fell to his lips, and her hand shot out and slid behind his neck. The next thing Jon knew, she was kissing him. For a few glorious moments, Jon forgot who he was, who she was….all he knew was that this was something he'd never felt before.
Gods, Jon thought deliriously, this girl will be the death of me…
Tears of desperation fell down his face. "Selene, please. You swore you'd come back to me. You promised. Get up!"
Jon winced as Rhaegal unleashed flames on the men and…some enormous horn with strange markings. What's happening? I thought she took the Rock. Where is she? And who are these people?
Jon turned back to Selene. She's not getting up. Why isn't she getting up? Jon felt the full pain of a knife throbbing in his chest. The edges of his vision began to fade. No, no, no.
"Come on, Selene. Please!"
Selene looked back at him, her expression bizarrely peaceful. Why isn't she fighting? She could have been an angel with her pale skin and dark hair splayed around her. Her white gown spread on the sand…pure white, except for the alarming amount of blood below her heart, flowing freely into the sand.
Selene's eyes grew glassy with tears.
Jon heard his heart break, "No, don't cry, Selene." He tried to reach out and hold her, but his hands went through her like smoke. I can't save her, he realized. I can only give her comfort now. "Gods…it's alright. You'll be alright. I love you. We'll see each other again. I'll find you, wherever you are."
Selene's murderer was shouting, "Control it!" His eyes turned to Selene, his hands at his belt, "Alright, quickly. Before you get cold."
What? Jon had time to think, before he realized what the man intended. Bile rose in his throat as he heard screaming. It took a moment to realize the screams were his. Darkness encroached his vision and he knew Selene's time was running out. He cast one final glance at the beach. Rhaegal was melting the horn, killing more men, getting closer to where Selene lay.
The leader cursed as he jumped away from the flames, clearly more intent on surviving than anything else.
Jon turned back to Selene. Her gaze was on the sky, her eyes crystalline, her breathing shaky and slow. Gods, no not yet. Please, please, please.
Selene Baratheon, his wife, gave one last sigh, her eyes blank and staring at nothing. Blackness swallowed Jon whole.
###
Jon Snow coughed himself awake, his chest aching.
"Jon?" A familiar voice laced with concern. "Here. Drink this."
A cup was thrust in his hands. Jon didn't even look. He brought the brim to his lips and drunk, the water cool in his throat. It felt divine.
Jon squinted. Where am I?
He was in his makeshift chamber on Dragonstone. The fire in the hearth was pumping out heat, but still he shivered. Tyrion Lannister sat by his side, bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept in days.
Jon coughed, "What happened?"
"I was hoping you would tell me."
The memories of the beach came flooding back. Selene.
Tyrion dragged his hands down his face, as if steeling himself. "Did you know I was with Selene when you died? I watched over her unconscious body, same as you, and when she awoke, she told me that you had been murdered." He cleared his throat, "I'll only ask this once, Jon. Is she dead?"
Selene? Dead? She can't be. Yet Jon knew what he saw.
"No," Jon found himself saying.
Tyrion widened his eyes, before a large smile of relief broke on his face. "Truly? Oh, thank the gods."
I'm not lying, Jon thought. Maybe it was a nightmare.
You were awake when it happened, whispered a malicious voice in the back of his mind.
Jon shook his head, refusing to listen.
Tyrion nodded, "You should rest."
"No," Jon grunted, lifting back the sheets, "How long have I been asleep?"
"Two days."
"Two days?" Jon asked incredulously. "I need to check on my men." He pushed himself to his feet, grimacing.
"Are you alright?"
"Fine," Jon said through grit teeth. He could hardly tell Tyrion he was plagued by a dull burn on the left side of his chest, just below his heart.
"Lying doesn't suit you, Jon Snow." Tyrion sighed, "And you're not very good at it." The dwarf went toward the door, "There's a meeting tonight. You're more than welcome to join."
Jon slipped a cloak over his shoulders. "I'm not invited to Daenerys' councils."
"You could be," Tyrion said, "once you bend the knee."
Jon gave him a side-glance.
Tyrion laughed, "I know, I know. You've probably lost track of all the times you've heard those words since coming here. But honestly, Jon, what are you waiting for?"
"My lord?"
"You need Daenerys' army and dragons to defeat your…" Tyrion waved his hand, "…army of the dead. And are you honestly telling me you'd go to war against Selene?"
"My people-"
"You're people can't withstand an attack from the north and south." Tyrion raised his brows, "Your ancestor Torrhen Stark once bent the knee to save his people. I know you'll make the same decision."
"And how's that?"
"Because I know you, Jon Snow." Tyrion smirked, "You're taller, sure…a bit broodier, perhaps…but you're the same honest young man who rides off to save people. It's in your blood."
Honest? I've married in secret and lie about it daily. I've lied even now about Selene being alive.
That wasn't a lie, Jon thought fiercely. Selene is alive. She has to be.
Tyrion nodded at his silence, "I know you won't, but you should rest."
"Thank you for your concern, my lord," Jon said as he walked passed Tyrion and out of the room.
It was a rare day on Dragonstone. The sun was out, the sky blindingly blue and clear. Jon winced at the brightness at first, walking with no purpose or direction.
"You don't look very well, my lord."
Jon turned to find Myrcella making her way toward him, her long, golden curls swaying behind her. It was disconcerting how much Myrcella looked like her sister as Jon first saw her in Winterfell all those years ago. The hair and eyes were wrong, but they had the same features…the heart-shaped face, the small nose that scrunched when they were annoyed...even their smiles dipped in the same place.
"I feel even worse, princess."
Myrcella laughed. "You should be in bed. Selene will never forgive you if you exhaust yourself to death."
Jon blood ran cold. "How do you mean, princess?"
Myrcella grinned knowingly, "Oh, you don't have to pretend with me, my lord. She told me everything."
He swallowed, "Everything?"
Myrcella stepped closer, barely able to hide her giddiness, "Everything. We're sisters, after all."
Jon frowned, "I thought we were keeping it a secret."
The princess giggled, "I'll wager it's hardly a shock to anyone, my lord. Your longing looks make every thought plain on your faces."
"Wait, what are you speaking of?"
Myrcella frowned, "Your…your obvious affection for each other. What are you speaking of? What have you done?"
"Nothing," Jon said quickly.
Suddenly, Myrcella gripped him by the arms and pushed him against a stone column with surprising strength. She got close enough for Jon to count her lashes. "Jon Snow," she whispered threateningly, "Tell me what happened."
"I can't."
"You will, or I-" the song of swords began in the courtyard behind them. Jon heard the familiar shouts of the dragon prince and the Tyrell knight.
Myrcella heard them, too, "Or I'll tell Aegon all I know."
"You wouldn't."
"You're forcing my hand," Myrcella whispered fiercely, "because you and my sister are keeping secrets. How am I supposed to help when I don't know what's happening?"
Jon hesitated.
Myrcella took a deep breath, "Aeg-"
"Alright!" Jon whispered. "Gods, you've changed much since Winterfell, you know that? You're every bit as willful as Selene."
Myrcella chuckled, "I'll take that as a compliment, as I'm sure it was intended. Now…"
Jon sighed, "You can't tell a soul."
"I promise."
"You have to swear it."
"You can't imagine I would ever wish to harm-"
"Swear. It."
Myrcella nodded, "Yes, yes, I swear it."
"Selene and I…we," Jon looked away, "We've-"
The princess clapped her hand over her mouth, her words muffled. "You didn't! Did you really?" She threw her arms around him, "Oh, I'm so happy for you both!"
"You don't even know what I was going to say!"
Myrcella drew her head back and dropped her voice to a whisper, "You and Selene eloped."
"Well, yes, that was what I was going to say. How did you know?"
"Well, I knew about your fondness for each other, and I told Selene to act, and now you're making me swear to keep something secret…I don't think I've ever seen a king blush before."
"I'm not blushing! I'm just….it's warm today."
"Of course it is. We're kin now, Jon. You're my brother, by all the laws of marriage."
Jon hadn't even thought about that. "Yes, I suppose I am. I have two sisters, but I'm happy to have a third."
Myrcella grinned, her eyes crinkling warmly, "I had two brothers, but now…" she looked away, before embracing him again, "I'm glad to have a brother again."
Jon felt warmth spread in his chest, and returned the girl's embrace.
"Isn't one Baratheon princess enough for you?"
Jon and Myrcella turned. Aegon was leaning against the next column, eyeing them with amusement. He sniggered, before rejoining Ser Garlan in the courtyard.
"Ignore him," Myrcella murmured.
Jon was tired of ignoring Aegon's jabs. He stepped out into the light of the courtyard. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, my lord."
Aegon straightened, exchanging a look with Ser Garlan. "Do you not?"
"No. Care to explain?"
Aegon walked toward him, the tip of his sword dragging on the stones, "I would be happy to. I'm referring to the way you look and speak to my betrothed."
My wife. "And which way is that?"
Aegon's jaw set, "Like you're thinking of all the things you'd do to her if you were alone." The dragon prince turned to Ser Garlan for validation, "Correct me if I'm wrong, ser."
Myrcella put her hands on her hips, "Are you men, or boys, that you would slander my sister? And in my own hearing!"
"I didn't even say anything!" Ser Garlan protested indignantly.
Aegon looked to Myrcella, "I would never speak ill of your sister, princess," he turned back to Jon, getting closer, "I'm speaking of the King in the North."
Jon held his ground, and Aegon's gaze.
The Targaryen boy scoffed, "King? How can a bastard be king?"
"I'm not sure. How can one be a prince?"
Aegon's sword was a steel blur. Jon met it with Longclaw.
Myrcella gave an exasperated sigh, "Boys."
Ser Garlan pushed himself between them. "Enough. Before you two regret it."
Jon and Aegon stood as still as statues.
Garlan shook his head, "You don't have the queen's leave to kill each other." When neither man responded, Garlan sighed, "Fine. It seems this day has come at last." He turned to Aegon, "You're betrothed to Princess Selene. You will marry her. Content yourself with that. Acting like a spoiled child and picking fights with her childhood friend will do nothing to increase her affection for you."
Jon smirked.
Garlan Tyrell rounded on him, "What are you laughing at? You're a prisoner on this island, only able to walk freely because of our gracious queen. Selene and Aegon are betrothed. You need to accept that, and stop looking at her as…as if…" a flush crept up the knight's neck, "as if she was yours."
Slowly, Jon and Aegon lowered their swords. Aegon looked between Jon and Garlan, and stalked away.
Myrcella stepped forward, "Thank you, Ser Garlan. You are a true knight."
Garlan nodded, "Thank you, princess." He turned to Jon, "You know why he hates you, don't you?"
"He just made that perfectly clear." Jon felt his anger like a second pulse, "Apparently, I look at her wrong."
Garlan shook his head, "Are all northern heads filled with snow? It's not because you look at her discourteously, it's because, well…because she looks at you that way, too."
Bells began to toll.
Myrcella brightened, "Dragons. Selene must be back!"
Jon released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Selene's alive. It was just a nightmare. Thank the gods. In the distance, Jon could see Rhaegal's green scales reflecting in the blinding sun. As the dragon approached the castle, Jon strained his neck to see if he could get a glimpse of Selene on his back. I can usually see her from this distance. Jon frowned. What does Rhaegal have in his claws?
Myrcella screamed.
Jon's stomach dropped when he saw it, too.
Rhaegal beat his wings to slow as he approached the courtyard. Jon grabbed Myrcella and pulled her away from its center as Rhaegal landed as gently as he could.
When the dragon stepped away, Jon could finally see the white thing Rhaegal had clutched across Westeros.
It was Selene, exactly as he'd seen her in that ill-fitting white nightgown she'd worn on the beach. Her curls were wild, her skin as pale as milk, and the nightgown had the most horrible red stains down the front.
Rhaegal gave a metallic whine, nudging Selene with his snout as if he could wake her from a deep sleep.
Jon stepped forward, swallowing his horror as he knelt beside her. Gingerly, he placed a hand on her arm. She was icy to the touch. It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. She's dead. She's gone.
Myrcella stumbled toward them, "Selene? Is she…but she can't be…" the girl's eyes rolled back.
Ser Garlan caught the princess as she fainted. He looked to Jon, eyes wide, "Is Selene really gone?"
Jon bit his lip, and nodded.
Ser Garlan stared at Selene's body. "I can't believe it.. I thought she would outlive us all. May the Mother have mercy on her soul."
She never really cared for the Seven. Jon thought dully.
Jon looked up when he heard footsteps. It was Daenerys and Tyrion. Both entered the courtyard with smiles, no doubt expecting to find Selene laughing, or telling tales of her journey west….but their smiles died when they saw Jon stoically sat beside her unmoving body.
"Selene?" Tyrion's voice cracked. He glanced at Myrcella, asleep in Garlan's arms, before he rushed to Selene. He knelt above her head, looking down onto her pale face, "No, no, no…" he reached out with shaking hands and gently placed one on either side of her face. "Selene, please, please…"
When she didn't stir, Tyrion squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could will the truth away. He hung his head, his quiet sobs shaking his shoulders.
Daenerys was slower to approach, but she joined them, looking down at Selene from where she stood across from Jon. He tried to read her expression, but couldn't.
Tyrion looked up, "You lied to me, Jon Snow."
Jon couldn't meet his gaze, "I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't believe it."
Rhaegal curled his body around them, whimpering sadly.
That seemed to shake Daenerys out of her reverie. The dragon queen's eyes grew wet as she sat down beside Selene, taking her other hand. "Blood of my blood."
Footsteps on stone, and suddenly Aegon was right behind Daenerys, looking down on Selene. The dragon prince's mouth fell open in shock. "Is that-"
"Princess Selene of House Baratheon," Daenerys' voice was shaky with grief, "Lady of Storm's End, Dragonrider, and heir apparent."
Selene Baratheon Snow, Jon thought dimly, my love, my wife.
Aegon's eyes fell to Jon, and where his fingers intertwined with Selene's. His face darkened, before he walked up to Jon, "Excuse me, my lord. Can I have a moment with my betrothed?"
My wife! Jon wanted to scream, but something stopped him. He glanced at Daenerys, who was staring at them with interest.
I should tell them the truth, Jon thought, but he found himself standing. Selene's fingers slipped through his limply, and it took all Jon had not to embrace her.
Aegon took Jon's place by Selene's side. He placed one hand beneath her neck, the other arm he wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her toward him, as if she would wake.
"Selene?' Aegon whispered.
Jon felt his distant anger, but his heart felt numb. If I stay quiet, she is forever known as Selene Baratheon, Dragonrider and heir apparent, hero of Casterly Rock…If Jon revealed the truth, then they would only remember her breaking her betrothal, and gods know how they would feel about her then. It's better this way. She dies with the honor she deserves. Only Myrcella and I know the truth. Despite the sun, Jon felt cold all over.
A drop of rain fell on Jon's head. He squinted at the sky. A sun shower.
Daenerys cleared her throat, "Come, now. Let's get her out of the rain."
"I'll do it," said an older voice.
They turned to find Ser Barristan Selmy approach. Her old swordmaster. The lines in his face had never seemed deeper. "Her father placed her in my arms at her birth, it only seems right that I..." The knight couldn't finish his sentence.
Aegon stepped back. Selmy knelt, sliding his arms firmly beneath her, and lifted. Selene's head lulled back, her arm swinging limply.
Tyrion looked up, his eyes tinged red, before he turned to Ser Garlan and Myrcella.
"Myrcella?"
Ser Garlan shook her head, "It was shock. She needs rest, but she should be fine. Well, as fine as she can be once she remembers…" the knight looked away.
Remembers her sister is dead.
Inside Selene's chambers, Aegon turned to Daenerys, "This should be family only."
Jon locked his jaw. Aegon could really use a sword hilt to the temple.
He looked toward Tyrion for support, but the dwarf only turned to his queen.
Daenerys closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was looking at Jon. She nodded softly.
Jon tore his gaze from Selene, turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him with all his strength. Jon kicked at the stone walls. Close family? That's my wife on that table.
Jon suddenly remembered being four and ten again, angry and upset after being thrown out of another room he belonged in.
Jon face was hot with rage as he pressed his ear to the oaken door, trying his best to hear of Bran's health. He could only hear the murmur of the maester, the quiet sobbing of Catelyn Stark, and the worried voices of his siblings, but not much else.
I should be in that room, he thought desperately, fighting to keep tears at bay.
"Jon?" a soft voice called.
He looked up and was shocked to see Princess Selene at the end of the hall. She was still in her riding wools, and a few curls tumbled from her plait. As she approached, her eyes took in the state of him. Only moments had passed since they had raced back to Winterfell laughing on horseback, but that felt like a distant memory. Selene's face was lined with concern, and she was looking right at him, the way no other person outside his family had before.
She cares, Jon knew, and that's why he found himself saying, "Father said it would be better if I waited outside," he spat as she walked up to him, "He's my brother, too."
Selene's eyes flicked back and forth between his own, and suddenly her arms were around his neck. Jon froze for only a moment, before leaning into her and returning her embrace.
"I am so sorry," her voice was thick with sorrow, which only made Jon squeeze her tighter.
"He is alive…I know it." Jon whispered fiercely in her hair. All his focus should have been on Bran, but a small part of him knew he shouldn't be embracing her like this. He wanted to quash that part, and focus on how well his arms fit around her, and the fresh smell of her hair…
Jon's head snapped up when he heard footsteps.
How long have I been asleep? He wondered as he wiped the sleep from his eyes from where he sat against the wall outside Selene's chamber.
Myrcella was approaching alone, her eyes red and her head held high. When she saw Jon there, she nodded, but still she turned to face the wooden door in silence.
Jon stared at the girl's back, watching as she reached out toward the handle and hesitated.
He considered speaking, of giving her words of encouragement, but he didn't know what to say. Myrcella stood there, frozen as a statue, before taking a deep breath, turning the handle, and entering the room.
The door shut on Jon again, and he sunk his head between his knees. I don't care how long it takes. I'll wait.
He wasn't sure how much time passed until Aegon emerged from the room. He didn't even look Jon's way. He only strode down the hall. Probably to his faux father Jon Connington, Jon thought, or that half maester, half knight, and half septa he's come to regard as his family. Probably to plan for his future, which has now been destroyed before his eyes.
Tyrion and Myrcella were the next to leave. The two Lannisters left hand in hand, both pale and fragile, as if their strength had disappeared with Selene.
Tyrion Lannister's eyes were faraway and weary, but he gestured for Jon to enter the room.
Jon stood, brushing the dust from his cloak, before opening the door with a creak.
Ser Barristan stood by the door like a statue.
Daenerys sat in a chair beside Selene, her eyes fixed on her face. The windows had been thrown open for fresh air, and the sun cast the room in golden light. It was too pleasant. It should have been dark and gloomy and sad, but nothing was as it should be.
Jon sat opposite Daenerys, and looked at Selene.
A blanket had been thrown over her body to hide the red of her dress. If it wasn't for the paleness of her skin and her stillness, she could have been sleeping. Even in death she was beautiful…but she looked wrong. In life, it seemed to Jon that Selene was always in motion. She was always laughing or speaking or sparring. Her face was never still, either. It was always twisted into a smile, a frown, in deep thought…or in an attempt to hold her tongue. That would usually last a moment, sometimes three, but then she would open her mouth anyway. To see her absolutely still….it made Jon's skin crawl.
He reached forward and took her hand. It was cold, but Jon held it all the same.
"Have you been outside all this time?" Daenerys' voice cracked, as if she hadn't spoken in days.
Jon nodded.
Her smile was thin and tired, "I thought so. Did you see what happened?"
Jon swallowed, "Bits and pieces. She was on a beach, surrounded by ironborn. I don't know how she got there. And there was this giant horn with strange-"
"Who did it?" Daenerys' mouth pressed in rage.
Jon shook his head, "I'm not sure, exactly. The man wore an eyepatch."
Daenerys looked at him as if for the first time. "Theon and Asha say their uncle wears an eyepatch."
Euron Greyjoy. Jon squeezed Selene's hand. Having a name meant something. Jon was suddenly filled with the urge to leave this room, hop on a ship and-
"I'll kill him for this." Daenerys said, her voice tight, "I swear, we will get justice for Selene."
Jon was taken aback by the dragon queen's fervor, "I thought…I thought Selene was a pawn to you. Another piece in your game for the throne. The Lady of Storm's End who could win you the people."
Daenerys looked at him and frowned, and Jon saw for the first time how disheveled the queen looked. For the first time since he'd met her, Daenerys was confused and hurt.
"A pawn? Is that what you thought?"
Jon held her gaze.
"Ser Barristan, please leave us."
Daenerys released a short breath, looking back at Selene sadly. "I'd spent my entire life with a brother who told me horrible stories of the evil Usurper who stole my father's throne, and his vile daughter who bore my title in my place."
The queen shook her head, "How wrong he was. About many things, but about her as well. When we first met, I wanted to kill her, but my dragons refused." She smiled, "They knew before I did how much I would come to-" she looked away.
Daenerys waited a long moment, before she said, "Selene wasn't a pawn to me." she met Jon's gaze, "She was my friend. She was my kin, blood of my blood…the only loving family I've ever known, and I-" Daenerys closed her eyes, "I will miss her."
After everything the Baratheons did to her…I can't believe she would forgive Selene. Not only forgive her, but….
"You loved her," Jon said softly.
Daenerys wiped at her eyes. "She was the first friend I've ever had. Our journeys couldn't have been more different, but…whatever souls are made of, hers and mine were the same." She looked up, "You loved her, too."
Jon smiled, looking down at Selene. "Better men could have loved her, I know…but they would have had to get through me."
Daenerys chuckled. Jon found himself smiling.
When her laughter died down, Daenerys said, "Selene believed you, didn't she? About the Night King and his army?"
Jon grew serious, and nodded.
Daenerys was silent for a long moment. They sat in silence for a long while, and Jon was just about to consider the conversation over, when the queen straightened, "The siege of King's Landing will take time, in the meantime…" she met his gaze, "I will help you defeat the Night King."
Jon's jaw dropped. "You…you would do that?"
"You protect people from monsters, like Daenerys," Selene had said on the cliffs only a few weeks before, her voice filled with pride.
Daenerys Targaryen would do anything for her people, Jon realized.
Daenerys smiled, "I would. The gods know Selene will never forgive me if I don't. I can't bring her back, but I can do this in her memory."
Jon smiled. Perhaps we'll stand a chance after all. "Thank you, Dany."
Daenerys raised a brow, "Dany? Who was the last person to call me that? I'm not sure, was it my brother? Hm…not the company you want to keep."
"Alright," Jon conceded, "Not Dany. How about my queen?"
Daenerys froze, her voice soft and unsure, "What about those who swore allegiance to you?"
Jon reached out his hand, "They'll come to see you for who you are."
Daenerys' eyes flicked to his hand. Slowly, she reached out and took it, "I hope I deserve it."
Jon smiled, "You do." He glanced down at Selene. "She thought so, and now I do, too."
Daenerys stood, "I need to speak with Tyrion."
Jon nodded, "I'll stay with her."
Daenerys placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jon felt less alone. Selene left a hole in more hearts than mine.
###
Daenerys sat on her chair overlooking the Painted Table, the lords and ladies of the realm standing before their respective kingdoms. Jon, along with everyone else, noticed the gap besides the stormlands.
"My lords and ladies," Daenerys said, "After much deliberation and thought…I have decided to take my Unsullied and Dothraki north, to aid the northerners in their fight against the army of the dead."
"What?" Lady Olenna's voice cracked like a whip. "You can't possibly be serious, Your Grace."
"I am."
Ser Garlan cleared his throat, "My queen, forgive me, but our army has been attacked by the Lannisters. We may have need of your Dothraki and Unsullied for the siege of King's Landing."
"We are aware of the attack," Tyrion said, "and-"
Arianne Martell placed her hands over Dorne, and leaned forward, "And how did the Lannister army know the whereabouts of the Tyrell forces? How did they all miraculously escape Casterly Rock?"
Myrcella straightened, "If you're implying that my sister-"
"I didn't mean to imply anything, princess," Arianne Martell said, "I wish to state it clearly. Selene Baratheon told the Lannister army where to go in exchange for Casterly Rock. It's the only explanation."
Lady Olenna and Ser Garlan shifted uncomfortably.
"Enough," Daenerys said darkly. "We don't know how they knew, and perhaps we never will, all we know is that Casterly Rock is ours. For that, we have Selene to thank."
When no one spoke, Tyrion said, "The Martell and Tyrell armies will conduct the siege, and the rest of us will journey north."
"Why, Your Grace?" Jorah Mormont said. He had been with her since the beginning, Jon knew, and he could see the knight's confusion on his face. "You're so close to the Iron Throne. Why risk everything you've worked for on whatever lies in the north?"
"The King in the North has bent his knee." Daenerys said. "The north is now one of my kingdoms, and it is in danger."
"But you don't know that for sure."
Daenerys turned to Varys, "My lord, do you have little birds in the north?"
Varys bowed, "From Dorne to the Wall, Your Grace."
"And what have you heard?"
Varys looked around uncertainly, "Strange reports. I don't know what is true and what is false, but I do know this…something awful is coming."
Daenerys looked around at the lords, "The north needs me now, and I will not abandon them."
Arianne huffed, "You will not abandon Selene," she muttered under her breath.
Daenerys turned, "Do you have something you wish to say, Princess Arianne?"
Arianne Martell drew herself up to her full height, which was still quite short compared to those around the table. Still, Jon could see the crown princess of Dorne was not afraid. Why would she be? She's never had reason to doubt her own mind.
The princess of Dorne turned to Aegon, "What do you think of all this?"
Aegon's eyes were on the Painted Table, but his mind was faraway, "I'm with our queen. I trust her judgement."
Arianne pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, before addressing Daenerys. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but I don't think you're thinking clearly. I think your judgement is clouded by grief."
Daenerys' jaw set, "Is it?"
"Yes. You, your Hand, your prince, the new Warden of the North…"
Sansa is still the Lady of Winterfell, Jon thought, but he kept his mouth shut.
The princess of Dorne continued, "All of you are only thinking of what Princess Selene would have wanted. My condolences, but Selene Baratheon is dead. No amount of wishing or rushing off to save her old kingdom will bring her back."
Lady Olenna spoke up, "The girl speaks harshly, but truly, Your Grace. I liked the girl, and I usually find something to dislike about everyone, but she's gone. You say the north needs you, but so do your southern kingdoms."
Daenerys stood, "The Martell and Tyrell armies will be enough for the siege." She looked to the Greyjoys, "Asha and Theon Greyjoy will establish a blockade outside the city. Together, King's Landing will fall within the year. We hold the country, my lords. I will not sit here and do nothing while my northern kingdom needs my help. That is my decision."
Jon glanced around the room, watching as the lords and ladies decided whether it was worth arguing.
When no one else spoke, Daenerys nodded, "Good. Lord Hand, send a raven to Grey Worm at Casterly Rock. Instruct him to leave his best men to hold the castle, but to send the rest north to Winterfell to meet us."
Tyrion bowed, "Yes, Your Grace."
Daenerys looked to Aegon, "Nephew, a word." With that, the room began to clear.
Myrcella followed Jon out of the room, "My lord?"
"Princess Myrcella. What can I do for you?"
"You can call me sister."
Jon quickly cast a look around, before taking her arm and leading her away from the others, "I can't."
"Will you not tell anyone the truth?"
"No," Jon murmured, "No one can know."
"Why not?"
"Because…Selene died a hero. I intend for her to stay that way. If anyone finds out that one of her last acts was disobedience to her queen…they'll think of her differently."
"You mean Daenerys will lose all sympathy for you and your cause."
Jon was taken aback, "That's not what I meant."
"No, but it's what you thought. You need the dragon queen's help, and for that you will take this secret to your grave."
Is it true? Is that why I wish to keep it secret? "It would do no good to tell anyone. It would only cause harm."
"It's the truth. I thought you were a man of honor."
"You don't understand," Jon growled, "Every man, woman, and child in Westeros will die unless we defeat the Night King. We can't lose Daenerys' support."
Myrcella's eyes grew glassy with tears.
Jon swallowed, "This isn't about keeping a secret, is it?"
Myrcella squeezed her eyes shut, "I just can't believe she's gone."
"She doesn't have to be."
Jon and Myrcella turned to find the Red Woman emerging from the shadows.
Hope flickered in Jon's chest like a small flame.
"Who are you?" Myrcella demanded.
"Myrcella," Jon said in a strained voice, "This is Melisandre of Asshai."
The girl drew back, "Uncle Stannis' red witch."
The Red Woman looked away, "Not anymore. I serve no one but the Lord of Light."
Jon stepped forward, "Can you save her?"
Myrcella grabbed Jon by the arm, "This witch was the reason for my uncle's madness. You can't trust her."
"Myrcella, there are things you do not understand," Jon said, "Things about me you don't know. Lady Melisandre-"
"You."
Ser Davos came from nowhere. Jon rushed forward and grabbed the onion knight by the shoulder, "Davos-"
"I ask your leave to execute this woman for murder."
"No."
"You exiled her! You told her-"
"If you return to the north, I'll have you hanged as a murderer." Melisandre recited from memory. "We're not in the north, Ser Davos."
Davos grunted, lurching forward.
"Enough, Davos," Jon snapped, "She's right." Jon walked up to the red woman, wary. "Why are you here?"
"Who do you think it was that convinced Queen Daenerys to invite the leader of the north to Dragonstone?" Melisandre asked. "I have united fire and ice, and now there is something else I must do."
"Can you save her?" Jon could hear the desperation in his voice.
Melisandre's eyes were glowing like coals. "I have seen Lady Selene in my flames. She cannot die now."
Jon turned to Myrcella, "Go and find Daenerys and Tyrion."
The girl picked up her skirts and dashed.
Jon gestured for the red woman to follow, "This way, my lady."
Davos grabbed Jon by the arm, "Jon, wait-"
Jon yanked his arm back. Davos looked shocked at his reaction. Jon didn't care. "If there is a chance, Davos, even the smallest of chances…I will take it." He turned and left the onion knight behind, "And damn anyone who tries to stop me."
###
The stench of exotic herbs was heavy in the air, only strengthened by the heat of the hearth.
The Red Woman wrung a rag over a bowl of water, before turning to Selene's body.
Two strips of cloth had been laid to cover her modesty, but the rest of her was exposed. Jon's eyes were drawn to the gaping, jagged cut below her left breast. The red woman started there, wiping and cleaning the wound, before scrubbing the rest of her. Jon glanced at Daenerys, Tyrion and Myrcella, who were watching the priestess with hope in their eyes.
Melisandre began chanting under her breath in High Valyrian as she made her way to Selene's hair. She pulled out a small blade, and cut a curl from her head, all the while praying aloud.
Daenerys was wincing, and Jon remembered that the dragon queen spoke Valyrian. Jon leaned in to whisper, "What is she-"
"Shh!" Melisandre's hush made Jon jump, "I need all my concentration."
Jon sighed, and watched as the red woman threw some of Selene's hair into the fire. The witch squinted into the flames, before grabbing a pitcher of herbal water and pouring it over Selene's hair.
The only sounds in the room were the flicker of flame, the sound of the witch squeezing Selene's curls and the gentle prayers that flowed from her mouth.
A chill shot up Jon's spine. It was surreal to watch the ceremony, knowing it had once been him in Selene's place. Did I look like that? Dead and pale and cold on a table while a witch swirled around me in a flurry of blood red skirts?
Finally, the Red Woman stuck out her hands, and lowered them gently on Selene's torso, one on her sternum, the other just below her navel. Melisandre closed her eyes, breathing deeply as her chants grew louder and louder.
Every few verses, she would open one eye and look at Selene's face.
Selene remained as still as stone.
What if this doesn't work? Jon shook his head. Gods, if you're there, please let Selene wake. Please.
After several minutes, Melisandre sighed, turning and looking at Jon with disappointment.
"Try again." Jon said firmly.
"This is madness," Tyrion said.
"I'm only alive because of this-"
"Yes, you are." Tyrion looked older than he ever had. "We tried. It's over. I can't watch as useless prayers are said over my niece and smelly water is poured on her head." The Hand took a shaky breath. "This isn't healthy. This isn't mourning." He reached out his hand.
Myrcella took it, "I'm sorry, Jon. We tried."
"Just wait, please-"
The Lannisters left the room.
Jon turned to Daenerys, "She will wake."
The dragon queen hung her head, "Maybe Tyrion is right. This isn't healthy."
Jon turned and planted his feet, "I will let you know when she wakes up."
Daenerys sighed, "She was my family. She was Targaryen to me. I'll have her cremated in the morning."
"She needs more time."
"Enough time, Jon." Daenerys snapped, before looking away, "I'm sorry. It's over." With that, she left him.
The red witch looked unsure of herself, "I know I saw her in my flames. She isn't meant to die now."
"I believe you," Jon said with a confidence he did not feel. "You can go, my lady. I'll wait."
Melisandre picked up her skirts and left.
Jon stood there, alone with Selene.
Not Selene, he had to remind himself. Just her body.
Jon's breathing was coming in a bit faster, before a tear escaped. "Alright, Selene," he said aloud, "that's enough. Wake up."
Selene didn't move.
Jon chuckled, "Very funny." He got closer, close enough to count the lashes on her eyes, "Selene? Selene!" Jon clapped his hands in her face, trying to startle her, "Wake up!"
Jon fell to his knees. He remembered his own death, how he saw nothing at all. That had ruined the gods for him forever, and yet…now he was desperate enough to try. Please, old gods of my father, bring her back to me.
Jon reached forward, and turned Selene's face to him. He brushed her hair out of her face with the tips of his fingers. She's so cold.
He sighed, feeling the last bit of hope drain out of him.
"No…" he mumbled. Jon put his head down into his arms, feeling his body shake with grief.
Selene is gone. She's really gone…
###
Jon shifted in his new boots, watching the king's party pull into Winterfell's great courtyard. The famed Robert Baratheon from his father's stories led on his war horse.
He's much fatter, Jon thought with disappointment.
Theon nudged his side with a sharp elbow, "There she is."
Jon shrugged him off. Theon had been going on about the king's oldest daughter, especially since Robb mentioned she was to be his wife.
Jon looked up, accidentally locking eyes with the girl. He had never seen eyes like that before, a deep blue, like a clear winter sky at dusk. She was hardly a year younger than him, on a charger as black as pitch, a silvered, antlered coronet on her head, and a lioness by her side.
For some reason, he couldn't tear his eyes from her.
###
Jon tried and failed to hide his disappointment as the princess took her awful stance.
He was hoping she would put Theon in his place, but she looked ridiculous. Her sword arm was too high, her toes pointed inward, her knees too low…
After a few failed thrusts, Theon was almost laughing, "One day, Your Grace, with a bit more practice you-"
But Jon was watching Selene. Her eyes flicked up, and she shot him a wink.
Jon frowned, confused, until the princess corrected her posture in one clean move and bashed the side of Theon Greyjoy's face with the hilt of the wooden playsword.
Jon choked on his laughter. He would have laughed harder, had she not drawn her black sword and charged him…
###
"Let me give you some advice, bastard," Tyrion Lannister said to him outside the royal welcome feast, "Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you."
Jon opened his mouth to speak, but was distracted when the doors to the hall opened, and Princess Selene stepped out into the night. Unlike their earlier fight, she now looked like the highborn girl she was. Her dress was pure silver silk, her bodice laced and tied tight, her hair an intricate swirl of braids and curls that bounced to her waist.
Jon closed his mouth when he realized it was still open.
Tyrion left, and Selene got closer.
"I was sorry not to see you at the feast."
That took Jon aback. "That's very kind of you, princess."
"Please, call me Selene…
When she shivered, Jon removed his fur lined cloak and placed it on Selene's shoulders.
She stared at him, "Thank you."
Jon was still thinking of their fight. "I have never seen anyone fight like you," he knew how awestruck he sounded, but he couldn't help it. "Who taught you how to do that?"
Selene looked surprised, as if she wasn't used to compliments on her swordplay. A pleased blush spread across her cheeks, "My uncle Jaime was the first one to train me. Ser Barristan Selmy has been training me for years."
With the Kingslayer and Barristan the Bold as her teachers, no wonder she puts us all to shame, Jon thought. He was just about to say so, when Robb interrupted.
Selene turned to his brother with a brilliant smile, "I was just telling Jon that I wish for him to join our table at the feast."
Jon was speechless.
"I think that is a wonderful idea," Robb said, "but my lady mother…"
Jon felt himself deflate, his eyes on his boots. The feeling in his gut was a familiar one.
Princess Selene drew herself up to her full height, "If Lady Stark wishes to speak to me about the matter, I welcome her to." She placed a gentle hand on Robb's arm, "If she gives you a hard time, Robb, you can blame me. Tell her I commanded you to."
Jon's eyes snapped up, watching as the princess walked surely to the entrance of the great hall. She turned, as if wondering why they were frozen where they stood.
Can she do that? Jon wondered. Why isn't she afraid?
Selene's smile was as bright as the sun, "Shall we?"
###
"The little lordling has a mouth on him," the shortest one growled in the armory at Castle Black, "Is that your mother's mouth, bastard? Do you kiss your little princess with that mouth?"
Jon froze. The three recruits laughed at him.
"Oh, what? You think us all blind? Did you enjoy the taste of doe a few times before you arrived, Lord Snow? Maybe I'll have the royal whore myself before she heads down south and takes her sweetness with her."
Jon felt his hands shake with anger, tiny red spots dancing in his vision. The next thing he knew, he was swinging like mad, hitting whatever he could reach. Soon Selene and Tyrion were there, scaring off the recruits with royal threats.
Selene eyed the small stream of blood that dripped from his cheek "Here." She wiped his cheek carefully with her thumb.
"I should have killed them for what they said about you." Jon's voice was thick with rage.
The look she gave him was sad, "Walk with me."
Later that evening, Jon was surprised to find Selene atop the Wall.
"I leave at dawn."
Jon felt his stomach sink, "I know."
"It's not too late for us to go to Dorne," she teased.
Jon laughed, but it was sad. If only she knew how much I've considered it, he thought.
"By the way, I've thought of a name for our firstborn daughter."
He suddenly felt very foolish. She must think I'm too-
Selene laughed, "Truly? Why?"
"Sometimes I find it difficult to sleep," Jon admitted, "Thinking about our life keeps me warm at night."
A pleased flush crept up her neck, and Jon could see Selene fighting a grin. "Alright, out with it."
"Lyanna," he said softly.
Selene cocked her head, "Your father's sister?"
Jon nodded, "She was a famed beauty, but was also fierce and had a touch of wolf's blood. Father says Arya reminds him of Lyanna. I think she would have liked you."
"It's a beautiful name," Selene agreed, "Lyanna Snow."
"No." Jon said without thinking. "Where we go, there won't be surnames." He stopped on the northern side of the Wall, looking out at the forests and mountains at the end of the world.
The north was beautiful. Jon couldn't believe he would spend the rest of his life here, defending the realm from whatever laid north. He cast a side glance at Selene. He would be like Uncle Benjen, visiting Winterfell on special occasions. He would have no other choice but to watch her and Robb start their family.
Pain filled his belly like wine. They were so close, yet their lives were about to split apart forever.
"I want to give you something." Selene drew her hands behind her neck, working on something Jon couldn't see.
When he realized what she was doing, he shook his head, "No. I can't accept-"
"Don't make me command you," she teased, holding out her hand so Jon could see the thin silver chain glinting in the moonlight. At the end of it was a small, silver, crescent moon, no bigger than her thumbnail. It looked priceless.
"I wanted you to have something of me," she said with glassy eyes. "No one will understand what it means, but you will know it's me. Years will pass, but as long as you have this, know how I feel about you. When you feel hopeless and want to give up remember that you have to fight so we can meet again. When you're cold and lonely, remember that I'm out there somewhere thinking of you. Always."
Jon felt like something in his chest was melting. The wind was blisteringly cold, but he had never felt warmer. He stepped forward, tilting her chin up. He tried his best to memorize every feature on her face before he lost her forever. The slant of her nose, the tiny flecks of green in her swirling blue eyes, the rosiness of her cheeks in the cold winter wind. Jon smiled at the soft snowflakes that drifted and settled on her hair.
"Thank you," he murmured, "Not just for the gift, but for making me feel…" Proud of who I am? Confident in my own skin? Seen and heard and loved more than I ever thought possible?
"I love you, Selene Baratheon."
A tear slid down her face. Selene took a deep breath, "I love you too, Jon Snow."
She loves me. She loves me. Dear gods, she loves me. The realm's delight, a princess of the Seven Kingdoms, and she loves me, the Bastard of Winterfell. She loves me for who I am.
Jon slid his fingers behind her neck and kissed her. How different it was from their first frantic kiss on the forest floor a few weeks ago. This was softer, sweeter, deeper, and Jon knew that no matter what laid ahead, he would love this girl forever.
###
A dragon screeched.
Jon's head snapped up. He looked down at Selene.
She was pale and still.
Jon dragged his hand over his face. He hadn't slept properly since Selene died. I need rest. He grabbed at his necklace instinctually, and froze.
It was warm.
Jon leapt to his feet. "Selene?"
The walls of Selene's chambers shook to the foundations. Jon looked up. Rhaegal must have landed on the roof. The dragon roared, clawing at the stones as if trying to break through.
Why would he….unless…
Jon looked back at Selene.
Sunlight streamed above her as the dragon scraped the stones apart. Rhaegal pressed his snout into the chamber and gave a deafening roar. Jon clapped his hands over his ears, wincing as the dragon's screams drowned out every sound in the world.
Until Jon heard a loud, scared gasp.
Author's Note
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