Chapter five
The girl's hair crackled, the dye burning from it so that its true color came through once more, matching the flames. The tips of her hair snapped like whips as if her hair was alive as the fire that was blanketing her and Jon Snow. Her skin glowed orange and her gown burnt away from her body leaving her naked and exposed to them all. The way her back arched as she fell backward over Jon Snow was beautiful, presenting her breasts to the sky, her eyes going glassy as the last of her life left her, her lips parted in horror and painful pleasure. She was divine.
The sword was still stuck through her, blazing and reshaping. The ivory handle of the wolf head sprouted a dual face on the back of it's head, an ivory dragon face.
The dragons had landed, perching on the frame of the open ceiling and singing to the moon the song of ice and fire of the ritual unfolding below them. This was the only way. The world needed Jon Snow. It had been frustrating when they could immediately revive him, many of her brothers and sisters under R'hllor had given their own lives in the attempt to resurrect the Princes that was Promised. When the dragon came and laid before them Sansa Stark that early afternoon after two days of failure, it was clear what they had been missing. Azor Ahai had failed just like they had at the beginning and was only on his third attempt that he called Nissa Nissa to him and he finished forging Light Bringer by thrusting it through her breast. Jon Snow needed a sacrifice of the same magnitude for his soul to be reforged and to become who he was destined to be. So she led Sansa Stark to him, had her willingly give her blood, blood with eight thousand years of ancient magic to call his soul back, and when it returned the dragons would hatch from their eggs and Azor Ahai shall prepare to face the greatest enemy the world of the living could ever face. He would defeat R'hllors greatest enemy and rule over Westeros as its divinely elected king. Sansa Stark would be at his side.
The girl had looked into her eyes and R'hllor had used the fire of Kinvara's own soul to show the girl what her future was to be. Dragons and children. She too would be reborn this night as a dragon, to fly and rule beside Jon Snow, to be mother to the new Valyrian Dynasty. The blood on the eggs was for Sansa's fertility, and that of her children so that those of their blood would be fruitful and multiply in great number. But until Jon Snow returned and took Light Bringer from her breast, Sansa Stark could not be brought back. So they waited, they prayed and they waited as they completed the first part of that evenings ritual.
Sometime later, she began to see Jon Snow's face fill out again, coloring returning to his body, a flush beneath the surface of his skin. His dark curls were bleached by the fire until his hair was the same silver gold as the moon. Though one single stripe of black remained just behind his ears.
Kinvara smiled. It was working.
Jon Snow's lips parted and their was a wheezing as he sucked in a lungful of air than a slight whistle at his first breath out. Then another breath in. His heart pumped strongly once more under his ribs, his fingers regained color at the tips, his muscles relaxing from their previous rigor. His now pale lashes fluttered and Kinvara took a step closer. The dragons, sensing his awakening gave joyous celebratory cries and batted their wings, the gust they made putting out the fire Sansa had started.
Steam rose from their bodies which were a bit red but otherwise untouched by the flames. It had been a marvelous wonder to behold. You would expect the child of a wolf and a trout, to flounder, to burn like a seared peace of meat, but her ice did not melt. It protected her from what should have rightly destroyed her. But from the fire of Light Bringer, she burst into flame herself like a holy torch lighting the way. It was a sign that she would shed her winter coat, leave the fur of the wolf behind and embrace the tough hide of the dragon but inside, Kinvara could see the heart of the wolf would remain strong and protected by the new tough scales she would grow. A balance of wolf and dragon, of fire and ice, just like Jon Snow. She noticed then, that behind the opposite ear as Jon Snow, Sansa now had a long stripe of silver-gold hair.
She smiled, happy at this subtle transformation, a confirmation of her theory. She looked back to Jon Snow as his slowly opened. She imagined his vision bleary and unfocused as his sight returned. His eyes were pale from death at first but they began to clear and the color got darker, more vivid, and clear. She drank in his face, focused on his eyes. The left was now a shade of purple while the right remained the same gray as it had been before his death.
The dragons gave another trill, extending their necks down into the temple, molten eyes on the eggs that had begun to rock, scratching coming from the inside of the shells. They were hatching. The priests and priestess raised their hands to the sky and praised R'hllor.
The first dragon to emerge, to break through, was a silver and white-headed beauty. It shook off the bit of shell that stuck to its scales and crawled over Jon's Snow's body to Sansa, where it nestled itself over her collar bone. There was a line of pale blue down its spine and some splotches of dark grey on its tail. Following it, the next dragon to hatch was a dragon of amethyst purple. It found its place in the dip of Jon Snow's hip. More and more started to hatch at once, all of varying, brilliant colors. Their colorful scales catching the torchlight like the most beautiful, mined crystal. There were no words to express her triumph, her excessive sense of validation. She was overjoyed, for she had interpreted the will of her god and she had delivered as his will desired. So many had gotten it wrong, the prophecy, interpreted their lords visions wrong, but not her, she had done what the others could not. It was like a weight had been lifted from her chest.
She quietly thanked her lord for his blessings, for his gifts, and his visions. And rejoiced that she had done her part, that she had not failed him.
Jon Snow groaned then shot up, the baby dragons clinging to him. He gasped and choked, grasping at his chest where he had been stabbed. He was bewildered, she could not blame him, she did not imagine it was the most tranquil of experiences, having the soul dragged back into one's body. Must be shocking, violent even. She put a hand on his shoulder and one of the little dragons hissed at her, biting at her finger. It hurt, even as small as they were they had sharp little teeth. But she pushed through that pain, her blood dripping down her hand. More proof that she had succeeded, even more dragons than the Mother of Dragons could have ever imagined had been born this night.
"Easy, my king, deep breaths," she told him, softly, sweetly. But no words could help calm him, not after he realized what the weight across his lap was.
He gave a scream, jerking under the body of Sansa Stark before he recognized her. He gave a sob, horrified by the sight before her, the woman he once knew as a sister impaled by a still flaming sword from her chest. Her eyes had gone milky with death as they stared up at the moon and dragons above, lips parted with blood down her chin and jaw that was starting to dry.
"Sansa, oh gods, Sansa no!" he reached for her, pulling her higher up on his lap, holding her. "What did you do?"
He was crying, fresh tears, streaming heavily down his face as he rocked her in his arms as best he could with the sword in her chest. He brushed the hair from her face and stared mournfully upon her naked corpse.
"I came back, I came back!" he kept repeating, pressing his lips to her temple. "So why..? Why have you... I came back for you."
Kinvara squeezed his shoulder, getting his attention. His new mismatched eyes glared fiercely, vehemently at her with hatred and resentment. "You!"
"You did this!" he growled and it was far more frightening than if he shouted. The held-back fury was palpable. The green dragon above blew fire into the sky and some of the other priest and priestess flinched. The dragons on the altar with him hissed at them, protectively posturing and perching around the couple.
"I did, and I can also help you bring her back." she told him, chin raised as she took a few steps back. "You must take the sword from her breast, and by doing so accept the role you are to play and embrace your destiny,"
"Only by doing so will the Lord of Light reward you by giving her back," she told him and he saw something in his eyes, an understanding. He looked at the sword. He could not simply pull it by the handle, it was too long to do it that way with how he was sitting with her draped over his lap.
"Is that it?" he asked her, suspicious. "Is that really all I have to do for you to bring her back?"
She smiled.
"There is more." she said, looking at Sansa's prone body. "You must make her your wife,"
Jon looked incredulous. "She's my sister!"
She gave him a hard stare. "We both know that is not true. The Lord of light showed me a vision of your birth, who your parents were. He did the same for you upon your death. Sansa Stark is your cousin, and even if she was your sister, we are in Valyria and you are of Targaryen blood. It would not matter in regards to marrying her."
"It would matter to be. And to her," Jon argued and Kinvara smirked.
"Well, then it is good she is not your sister," she said, looking back to Sansa, growing colder and colder by the minute. "Westerosi marry their cousins all the time,"
She watched Jon Snow's full mouth press into a sharp, thin line of resentment. He wasn't able to argue she was wrong about that.
"Out of all the women in the world, including your own Aunt, the mother of dragons, the unburnt, the breaker of chains, it was Sansa Stark that was brought to us to help resurrect you," she said, humming thoughtfully. She stepped closer and the white and silver dragon eyed her, staying planted to Sansa's breastbone. Kinvara brushed the back of her fingers over the girl's angled cheek.
"Some might think you and your aunt would make the better, far more powerful match, especially against the Night King. And yet it was your cousin who was brought here to share her life with you, not just as a sacrifice, but to share one life as man and wife together for all the days to come by your side." she spoke softly, wistfully.
"This is meant to be, Jon Snow. Whether you accept it now or not and pull the sword from her, your union will happen regardless. But I would like to say that it is in the interest of your realm and your own happiness that it happens sooner than later." she told him, giving an elegant shrug of her shoulders and stepping back to give him space as she gave the others instructions on what would be happening next. Jon Snow may be reluctant but she would ensure that the will of R'hllor was done. The two would become one before the sun rose, and a babe would be put in Sansa Starks belly.
Her brethren priests and priestess began to light candles that produced colored wisps of smoke from the wicks, filling the air with a heavy, sweet aroma. Aphrodisiac candles. If Jon Snow was too honorable to consummate this holy union than she will simply give him some assistance to do what needed to be done. For now she watched the man grip with his bare hands the blade of the sword. The blazing blade would be red hot, but Jon Snow's hands did not burn.
She nodded at the others to begin their prayers and chants while she quickly went forward, cutting a bit of Sansa's hair and throwing it into a brazier smoking with herbs. Just as she had with Jon Snow on her first attempt to resurrect him. "Let your blood drip into her wound once you remove the sword."
Light Bringer clattered to the temple floor once he had pulled it free from the woman. He squeezed his hands closed, dripping the blood into the open area. He looked away for the most part. He could not bear to see her like that, open in such a brutal way that he could see into her.
Kinvara began to join in on the prayers. The dragons began to chirp as if trying to help them. Above, the older dragons were singing again. Sooner than expected, she heard Jon gasping and she opened her eyes to see the would on her chest closing, muscle and skin stitching itself back together and she blinked, her eyes clear and focused, blue as the sunset sea and her mouth open in a soundless scream as she surged forward, clawing at her chest, fresh tears running down her face. The silver and white Dragon, slithered up, wrapping itself in what seemed like a comforting attempt, around her neck, neck stretched, and head resting in the dip between her collar bones. Jon Snow caught her, holding her to his chest, speaking softly into her ear.
"I'm here, I'm back, we're back," he told her, rocking them. Sansa gave a sob, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders. Jon Snow placed kissed on her temple, down her cheekbone.
His breathing got heavier, his face began to flush. The candles were taking effect. She was glad she had the foresight to have them brought to the temple after Sansa was brought to them. The visions in the flames were becoming clearer and clearer, she saw what was required, saw what the future could be and it would only happen when the two before her become one in both body and soul. Jon Snow could not do this without Sansa Stark, she was the ice to his fire. She would help reign him in on following through on rash impulse. Advise him and council him in subjects he fell short or did not have the right character to properly understand like the dangerous spider's den of court. And Jon Snow would remind her what honor was, what it meant to be just and good even when the world challenged you to be else wise. Their reign would bring about a golden age in Westeros.
As for Daenerys Targaryen, she was searching for a home that she never had, a castle and a people that were far more foreign to her then the pyramids and slaves of Essos. She has begun a revolution, had started real change but she was back peddling, losing sight of what she started and what she could finish. The Iron Throne was not meant for her. Daenerys needed to leave it behind, stop looking back to her father's seat and rather to the seat she now sat and the duty and obligations she had to the people she had freed.
"Jon," Sansa sighed his name, staring at his face as if he hung the moon and stars. "It really worked. I wasn't sure, and then I-"
She looked at her chest, at the pink scar that had formed between her breasts.
"Sansa, oh, Sansa you sweet girl." Jon pressed another kiss to her temple. "You incredible woman. You shouldn't have done it. I was horrified when I woke again to see you like that,"
He held up a hand, and they both looked at it. It was covered in Sansa's blood. Sansa glared at Kinvara who looked completely unapologetic. "I didn't know she would do that. She only told me to cut my arm."
Jon shot Kinvara an unforgiving look, his eyes promising her a painful death.
Sansa touched his cheek, then an end of his hair."Jon, your hair and eyes. They'd changed."
He frowned and tried to look in his peripheral at the long strand of hair he was holding.
"This eye," she put the tips of her fingers gently on the cheek, under his left eye. "It's the color of the purple crocus's that would grow in the Gods Wood at Winterfell,"
"It's beautiful," her lips trailed down the strong line of his nose, her cheeks flushing as they landed on his lips, her fingers moving down from his cheek to his chin, eyes still on his mouth.
"Sansa," Jon groaned, his own eyes drinking her in with a hunger, a lustful hunger. His hand on her hip twitched, fingers gripping at her soft, flesh. "You-"
Sansa looked up, meeting his eyes and there was a strange clarity in them as she leaned into his body, pressing her chest to his. "Your so warm, Jon. I haven't been able to feel warm in so long."
"I-"the man swallowed, mouth most likely dry. "I know how you feel. Since I heard about father-"
Sansa nodded, understanding. "We're the last two, Jon. It's only us now. I've been so scared, so lonely. You won't leave me now, will you?"
He shook his head, eyes on fire. "Never. But there is something you should know, about who my mother is, and my father,"
The girl gave him a curious look.
Kinvara smiled. He just needed to tell her and then the real work could begin. Once the matter of their blood relation was out of the way, neither would have no reason for guilt to be had for feeling as they did for each other and the candles would have an even better effect on them. The candles simply enhanced desire that was already there, deep down. It did not create it. Jon Snow and Sansa Stark always had a lust for one another, no matter how small, even if it was just a flicker of subconscious thought, the candle's aroma would bring it to the surface, make them hyper-aware and lower their inhibitions enough to act on that attraction.
"When I died, I saw things. I saw my mother," he told her, and Sansa's face lit up.
"Oh, Jon, that's wonderful. I know you always asked father and he always refused to say-"
Jon interrupted her. "Ned Stark wasn't my father. He was my uncle. My mother is Lyanna Stark, and my father was Rhaegar Targaryen."
Sansa blinked, absorbing that information before her expression became soft, mournful. "Oh Jon, did he-were they-"
"Did Rhaegar rape my mother or were they in love when he took her?" He said what she could not.
Sansa nodded.
"I don't know." he said honestly. "I only saw her giving me to father. She was apologizing and begging him to protect me from Robert Baratheon because if he knew Prince Rhaegar sired me, she thought he would kill me."
Kinvara recalled what the Lord of Light had shown her in the flames.
I'm sorry, Ned. I told you I didn't want to marry Robert, but father was going to make me. Rhaegar said he could break the betrothal, that he could make me a knight when he was king. He- The quiet wolf, had gently shushed his sister, begging her to save her strength. He didn't care why in that moment, just that he had found her, that he wanted her to live to bring home.
I didn't know what he wanted. I just thought he was kind. That he was different. I was so naive. He's just a man, like all the others. Rhaegar Targaryen was not an evil man, he was just a man with a purpose, a goal and he was willing to sacrifice and do what he had to for the greater good. But for all his books, all his research, he didn't understand. He believed his son, Aegon, to be the true Prince that was Promised but his Targaryen superiority and narcissism lead him to believe that if this was the destiny of the Targaryen's, to rid the world of the Others, then the dragon needed three heads. It was nonsense but because of his foolish deciphering and theorizing, the true Azor Ahai was born to them.
Please, Ned. You have to protect him. It's not his fault, he should be punished because of me and his father. Promise me. Promise me, Ned. Lyanna Starks sacrifice was not for nothing, her son lived, thrived, grew strong and was becoming the man that he was meant to be at last. The savior of them all. She should be proud.
"I'm so sorry. You suffered so much to bring me back, and I'm not even your brother." he hung his head, apologetic for something he needn't be.
Sansa Stark was taking Jon Snow's face into her hands. "Don't apologize, Jon."
Her smile was serene. The two had entered a world of their own. Kinvara signaled for the others to slowly leave the temple but for a few that would help her with the fertility prayer once, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark began to fuck. Which would me any minute now from the looks of them, the longing and desire in their eyes, the way their bodies were reacting to each other, naked and pressed close on the alter.
"I don't regret it. Your still family, Jon, and I love you…"
Jon blinked, eyes big and owlish. "You love me?"
"Of course," Sansa smiled. "I-"
Then Jon was kissing her and after a second to be surprised, Sansa began to kiss him back.
I know, I know, this seems rushed and their reactions are unrealistic but they are under the influence of some magic candles that make you horny and lose your inhibitions so remember that.
Also thank you to everyone who voted in the pole. It ended up in a tie by the time this chapter was finished between keeping Sansa's red hair and blue eyes as were and having her have the silver-gold stripe in her hair and her eyes going purple in certain light. Obviously, since it was a tie, I was the tiebreaker. I went with the stripe.
Also, a reminder again this story is rated M and we are finally entering into the "M" territory next chapter with graphic depictions of sex between Jon and Sansa.
So, what did you think of this chapter. Did it go at all how you imagine it might? What are your thoughts? Remember, comments are my fuel, my muse, they keep me writing and let me know that people are actually interested in if this story continues.
Love you!