It had taken less than a day for the news to reach Jon at the Wall and he knew, he had known when he had woken that morning that something terrible had happened. His heart had ached with an unknown pain.
Bran had killed the raven he'd warged into to get the message to Jon, the bird fell dead to the table as soon as he had taken the scroll from its leg.
The three words at the bottom of the paper had caught his eyes first and the rest of the official proclamation had ceased to matter.
Words that had ended the life within his heart. The light in his soul extinguished and he felt as dead as he had been, laying on this very table, after his brothers had murdered him.
She burned Sansa.
The world blurred around him, and nothing could be heard beyond the pounding of his own blood in his ears.
Not the ruckus of the group around him as Edd read the missive from the Dragon Queen, announcing the traitorous plotting's of the Lady of Winterfell and her execution.
Not the pounding smash of furniture as Tormund hurled the table across the room to shatter against the stone wall.
Not the quiet sobs of Arya next to him as they broke from her control, the most emotion that had any had seen from her since she had landed again on Westarosi shores.
He didn't feel the cold bite at the skin on his face as he galloped away from Castle Black. What was the chill of winter against the fires of rage and the burning agony of a sundered heart?
He doesn't remember the ride that killed his horse a mere mile from Winterfell's gates, nor does he remember walking quietly, steadily to where the Queen stood looking with pride over her dragons.
He becomes aware again as he faced her, her beasts towering in a field behind her and a smile on her face as though her destruction of his life mattered not a whit.
He knows she's talking to him, is vaguely aware that she's informing him of Sansa's treachery and explaining her plotting with the Northern lords but that he should not worry, now that she's gone the lords have promised to fall into line.
Now that Lady Stark was gone, the north will be calm under her rule. They had sworn so as they watched the Queen burn their Lady.
Now that she's gone…
Its all he can hear, around and around in his head. His love had died the worst of deaths. Consumed in flame that could melt even stone, she'd never had a chance.
From lords to commoners, they had stood by as she who had given her last breath to keeping them free had died in agony. Her life given for their cowardly silence. Their lives to continue while hers was snuffed out.
He'd left her here, vulnerable to the madness that he had refused to acknowledge, so caught up in his war against the Night King.
So focused on victory so that their lives together could be lived in peace and now it had ended before it could even begin.
The dagger in his hand had been clenched there for days, his fingers locked in such a rigour around its handle that he didn't think they could come loose even if he wanted to let go. He stood there, cloak draped around his rigid form as the Queen smiled, his impassive face giving no hint as to the storm of fury and devastation in his being.
When he thrust the dagger forward, he didn't hear the screams of her companions or the roar of her dragons. He didn't feel as she clutched at his front with words of confusion, pain and betrayal.
Unholy eyes. Cold vengeance and a void, pitiless hate were all the Queen could see staring back at her as she fell to her knees, clutching the weapon that sprouted obscenely from between her breasts.
Jon Snow, King in the North stood immovable as he avenged the death of his Red Wolf, his mate. He didn't look up as the dragons shrieked their anger at their mother's death and charged forward.
He didn't care that these where his last moments, that his actions had probably doomed them all. His dark, broken mind hoped they had.
What was life without his heart?
As the dragon flame rushed toward him, he hoped beyond all else that she was waiting for him in the arms of the Old Gods. If he couldn't have her here in this life, please, he begged, let him find her in the next. Let her be at peace there, for this world had never deserved her. This world that had betrayed her.
As the heat devoured him, he had only one last thought.
May the Others take you all…