Sister's Keeper

Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.

Chapter 86: Dawn

Winterfell

The war was over.

It should be a sign of victory. One that many Lords and soldiers who have encountered battles should be proud of. Unfortunately, there was no joy in this victory. All the soldiers standing there watching the original wights turn to dust leaving only the fallen. Many pierced by the enemy and their own comrades. There was no victory. Only the realization of death. No one was able to speak. Many fell to their knees, filled with exhaustion while others stood there.

Inside Winterfell, silence engulfed the area. Ser Jaime, Ser Brienne, and Podrick slumped against the wall, not caring about the dead huddling around them. Tormund and Gendry sat on a wagon; their backs together not able to say a word only breathe. Sandor opened the door from the Keep escorting Melisandre outside once the coast was clear. Sam and Dickon kneel before their father. Lord Randyll received a lethal wound in the naval region, just below his chest plate. Sam was exposed, and his father pushed him aside, taking the blow. Both men's eyes water, yet they did not sob for their father.

"My sons," Lord Randyll heaved before succumbing to the Stranger's presence.

Those who are on the brick of death could see the shadow figure. Even Arya, as she stood there in the courtyard. Death had many faces. She considers the Stranger hovering over Winterfell collecting the souls of the fallen. Even Bran could see the Stranger, through the eyes of the Three-Eyed Raven.

Death was all around in the darkness.

Until the darkness slowly dimmed towards the dawn.

The Red Priestess spotted Quaithe and made her way over to the shadow binder. She could tell her companion used a lot of magic to do her shadow person, as the silver strands danced in the shadowbinder's dark hair. The two nodded, heading out. Ser Davos spotted this as he limped his way over. He was not done with Melisandre just yet. The Onion Knight made a vow to kill her if he ever saw her again.

The moment Ser Davos caught up to them, he stopped at the gate as the two Shadowbinders whispered in Valyrian. Melisandre took off her necklace and handed it over to Quaithe. They nodded to each other before Melisandre walking towards the battlefield. Ser Davos came out, standing by Quaithe as they watched the Red Witch wither away to dust. No one can say a word in seeing the Red Priestess dying just like that. Another soul claimed by Death.

"What happened to her?" Ser Davos asked.

Quaithe stared at the necklace in her hand, "Everything that has life will one day come to an end. From the flames, there are ashes. From ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Ser Davos looked at the Shadowbinder. He can tell Quaithe was not a fanatic like Melisandre. She does not pray or praise the Lord of Light. The only thing Melisandre and Quaithe had in common was their origin of Asshai. Other than that, they were opposites. A magic that can cast two shadows, one that is abused by power-seekers while the others use its magic as an element of its own devices. The two stood there, watching the dawn.

.o0o.

Daenerys stood on the Northside of the battlement with Drogon. She felt numb inside, unable to move as she stared at the Wolfswood. She feels like she lost so much. Ser Barristan was dead. Her surrogate father died to protect her. Then she watched the Dance of Dragons between Viserion and the Ice Dragon. When Arya ran to her, begging she send Drogon to help, she couldn't. Drogon was severely injured. The same as Rhaegal. And then it happened, both dragons falling from the sky and disappeared into the forest.

Two riders immediately went into the forest. No doubt, Jorah is one of the riders. And yet, Daenerys could not move. She remained where she was, near the gate surrounded by bodies. Ser Gareth and Ser Garlan tried to bring her inside, yet Drogon gave them a warning growl. The two knights were able to collect Ser Barristan, knowing he needed to be prepared for the funeral.

Only one person managed to come towards her. It was Missandei. The translator came over and stood beside Daenerys. She did not utter a single word. Seeing that Missandei was alive, confirms those who were in the Great Hall are alive as well. Therefore Varys, Tyrion, Lady Sansa are alive, along with the women, children, and elderly. Soon Grey Worm came over, battle-worn with cuts on his leather armor. He did not say a word, only stood by Missandei and Daenerys with a spear in hand. Guilt constricted his voice, not knowing how many of his brothers remained. If there was still an Unsullied. All around, they could see more Westerosi than Unsullied and Dothraki still recovering on the battlefield.

All three of them stood watching the horizon waiting. Grey Worm suggested he get what remaining Unsullied to search the woods. The sun was peaking over the eastern mountains. Dawn. The next day has come, as the dark sky started to turn a deep blue, slowly getting brighter by the minute.

Time seemed to pass as dawn approaches.

Daenerys remained standing there. Dark Sister still in her hand.

For the second time in her life, Daenerys prayed to the gods. Begging that the God of Death doesn't take her sister away. Tragedy always seems to take her family away. War and greed. Viserys's death was what he deserved for making their lives a living hell. Her father maybe so. But her Mother and Alysanne, Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon shouldn't have suffered. Then she remembered that her second nephew was still alive. Yet, the shock and exhaustion prevented her from thinking about Jon in that way.

All she can do was wait.

When the sun finally broke through the horizon two horses trotted over from the forest. Daenerys rushed over as they came closer. She saw Jon exhausted with concern; meanwhile, Jorah was holding onto Alysanne. Her sister unconscious, if not severely injured.

"Grey Worm, find the Maester now. Take him to the Queen's room," Jorah ordered.

Grey Worm nodded as he ran to get the Maester. Jorah continued to ride inside with Missandei following to help. Daenerys looked at Jon.

"Viserion?" she asked.

"Badly injured in the woods," he answered.

Drogon heard this, forcing himself to fly over to check on his brother. Daenerys could sense his pain and discomfort. The Ice Dragon did a number on them through the Dragon Spell. No doubt Jon's chest is aching, just as her shoulders and neck. But Alysanne was the one who fought the Ice Dragon the longest. While Daenerys and Drogon share a strong bond, Viserion and Alysanne's bond, it's entirely different. Therefore, Alysanne must be physically suffering like her dragon.

Jorah rushed his horse to Winterfell. He was not in a mood for a conversation. His focus was getting Alysanne inside and treated. Through the ride back, he heard a small whimper from his love. Even unconscious, her body was trying to tell people she was in pain. Lost in tunnel vision, he reached the tower, along with Jon. The White Wolf got off and helped the Knight by taking hold of Alysanne. Once down, Jorah took his Queen and carried her inside.

Daenerys and Missandei rushed right behind them. A few Unsullied as well, as they shove any of the dead out of the way. The moment they arrive in the room, they discover a fire was already lit. Standing by the fire was Quaithe.

"Set her down and remove her armor," the Shadowbinder instructed.

Jorah nodded, doing so. Missandei helped him, as they stripped away the armor, chainmail, and gambeson. When they reached her final layer of clothes, they stopped, seeing bloodstains. Immediately, Jorah opens the latches finding lacerations around her stomach. Her neck was swollen in a shade of red, with small specks of blue in what looked like a bite mark. Her lips were blue from the cold, and tension could be seen along her jaw. Missandei removed Alysanne's glove, revealing locked joints.

Daenerys gasped as she came over, "She used too much Valyrian magic."

Jorah scowled when seeing this and turned to Quaithe. "Help her."

Quaithe came over, resting her hand over Alysanne's heart along with the wrappings, "She's on the brink of death."

"No!" Daenerys gasped. "Not again."

"Her dragon and she are mortally wounded." Quaithe said. "I can heal the body, but the soul…she must do so herself."

"Then do it," Daenerys demanded.

"Very well, Khaleesi," Quaithe complied. "But you all must leave the room. What I am about to do cannot be seen."

Daenerys was about to argue, until Jorah placed a hand on her arm, "I trust her. Do you trust me?"

The Khaleesi hesitated as she stared at Alysanne, before nodding. All three left the room. As Jorah was about to close the door, he saw Quaithe grabbing a bowl and paintbrush. Bringing back memories of Qarth. When the door shut, he turned around, staring at the two ladies. Until realizing one person was missing. He knew Grey Worm was fetching Maester Wolkan. The Knight can only assume Tyrion is tending to Ser Jaime and Varys was getting a report. However, where was Ser Barristan?

That was when he saw Dark Sister in Daenerys's hand.

"Ser Barristan?"

Daenerys looked down, hugging the ancient sword, "He…he didn't make it."

"How?"

"He died because of me," she said.

Jorah sighed, knowing the stubborn old man would do anything for the Dragon Sisters. In the short amount of years behind closed doors, Ser Barristan treated the girls has his own daughters. Despite the formality. The Knight rested his hand on her shoulder. Daenerys stared at him with watery violet eyes.

"And he would do it again," Jorah said.

There were two types of death a knight prefers. One on the battlefield or surrounded by loved ones. Ser Barristan had no wife, no legacy that would show him the love many men prefer. A sworn shield of the Targaryen Kingsguard. To die in his sleep is what Ser Barristan feared the most. The older Knight favored protecting those he loved rather than having the Stranger claim him in his sleep. Jorah remembered what Ser Barristan said after Astapor.

"I burned away my years fighting for terrible kings. . . Just once in my life before it's over, I want to know what it's like to serve with pride, to fight for someone I believe in."

Jorah sighed.

"Will your friend help her?" Missandei asked.

Jorah nodded, staring at the door, "She has done so twice."

Missandei nodded as all three stood there.

.o0o.

Alysanne's POV

It felt like I was drowning.

My body has become stone, unable to move. My arms felt like lead. All around me, there was nothing but darkness. Darkness that engulfed me in an endless abyss. No source of light. Only the feeling of ice. Like I was falling in frozen water. My eyes barely fluttering open, stinging in saltwater.

And yet, as I was drowning, I don't actually inhale blacking out. And however, my lips remained sealed, trying to hold onto the little breath I had. The instinct to not let any water in is so strong that I won't open my mouth. My head feeling the pressure, ready to explode. If I open my mouth, then it would stop hurting. Everything hurt.

The constant overwhelming crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen. But it has happened. So why am I not able to let go. This persistent feeling of being under threat. The majority of my life has been under threat. Everywhere I go, somebody was trying to kill me. Therefore, this dark abyss was inviting me to let go…

But I couldn't.

My lungs begging for air.

I can't even breathe.

I'm drowning.

Holding on to save as much time I could.

Hoping for someone to save me.

Once more, I can't do this on my own.

Five years of my life have been about the Great War. I've prepared myself for the Long Night. I've brought an army, dragons, to aid the North in defeating the Night King. I have slain the Ice Dragon to save humanity from its wrath. There is a legacy I have left behind of ending Slavery in the Ghiscari province. I have put an end to the Warlocks of Qarth. And yet, all these deeds aren't enough.

However, what is enough?

I'm tired.

Nothing holds interest to me.

Only the ache in my chest where my heart would be. The weight of it, sinking me further down in the darkness. Drowning in what destiny has denied me. Until a spark of warmth. The warmth in my heart slowly dancing along my skin, leaving invisible symbols down to my womb.

That was when I saw it.

A flicker of gold shimmering in the darkness.

A hand.

In agonizing pain, I desperately reached out for it. The golden hand reaches out, grasping my wrist, and a mighty yank pulled me out of the dark water. Air surged into my lungs. The moment my feet raised from the water, then instantly back on solid ground. The individual wrapped their arms around me, swatting my back as I heaved and coughed water onto their chest.

"Easy there, take a deep breath," my savior said.

It took me a moment to register who it was before looking up. I thought I was staring at Ser Barristan. The voice was there, but the face did not match the voice. The man was tall and has pale blue eyes. He had blond hair, with a handsome face. Taller than others, I know, though he was lean and tone. He appeared to be in his thirties. Meanwhile, there was a glow around him in the darkness. Illuminating light.

"Ser…Barristan?" I asked to be sure.

The man gave a familiar smile, "Yes, Alysanne, it's me."

"How?" I asked, looking around. "Is this the Veil?"

"No, my dear, it is not," He answered. "It could have been, though."

"I don't understand?" I replied.

"One would say we are in the realm of pain. When there is too much pain, all we can handle is darkness. Time seems to fly when there are no dreams. Yet, some pain can't be easily wiped away and drown us."

I nodded, staring down at the water's reflection. Had the Long Night left such damage on my body, that I was mentally begging for death? And then the realization came. The spell I used to help Viserion. In order for Viserion to fight the Ice Dragon, I took his pain away. I felt every bite, scratch, and damage that was inflicted on him. The adrenaline reduced it, yet it wasn't enough. My eyes began to water along with a sob. Viserion…he was out in the Wolfswood dying or already dead.

"Alysanne," Barristan gasped as he took my hand.

"Viserion," I sobbed.

Ser Barristan gave a sigh of relief, "Fear not. He is well."

"How would you know?" I cried.

"All spirits know," he replied.

My heart dropped when hearing this. All spirits know. It explains why Ser Barristan appears young. How he could be here in my dreams. My loyal Knight was dead. The man who became my second surrogate father figure. It seems like everyone I love is dying. Anyone who fights for me perishes.

"I'm sorry," I cried.

"Don't be sorry," he said as he hugged me. "You had no fault in my death. I fought to protect you girls. That is what I swore and accomplish."

"But…"

He cradles my cheek in a fatherly way, "I rather die with a sword in hand than alone in bed. You brought back a purpose for me. All my life, I've wanted to be a Knight. It was when I was fifteen at a tourney where I was defeated by Prince Duncan. Despite my age, he knew I was bold, giving me my name. A few years later, at the Winter Tourney, your great-grandfather knighted me after defeating Ser Duncan the Tall. All I ever wanted was to be a brother in the Kingsguard. Your family made it so, they've tested me along with their friends in order for me to show my worth. I was indebted to your family.

"I served a great king, a good king, an insane king, and a terrible king. Three Targaryen kings, two who were taken by death and one into madness. I made friends with your brother and relatives that reminded me of that purpose. When I failed Rhaegar, I knew I failed your family. I still remember the little girl who danced in the tower. When King Robert died, and Joffrey took the throne with Ned Stark arrest…I could not stand and watch this madness. I knew of Viserys's death, but I prayed to the gods that the Targaryen Sisters were still alive. I was dishonorably discharged for no reason; however, I made a sacred vow to House Targaryen.

"A year I searched for you girls. Listening for the sighting of the Mother of Dragons and the Dragoness of the West. There were doubts if you girls were capable of claiming your birthright. For I fear the Targaryen curse lingered in your veins as it did with your father. Oh, how you proved me wrong, Alysanne. You are worthy of being Queen. Just like your Mother and great-grandmother Black Betha. All the greatness of House Targaryen. I loved you as a Knight for his Queen. Over time, I love you as my own daughter. You and Daenerys are the children I never got to have. I regret not accepting my dismissal after the Rebellion to search for you girls. But I am honored to have served you."

My eyes water upon hearing this. Three men have become my father. There was my actual father, King Aerys the Second. I respect the man he was in the past, before the madness. Yet I could not love him for what he has done to my Mother in abuse and the devastation on Westeros. Due to his madness that was caused by trauma and mourning. The second, the five years of happiness as a child, was Ser Willem Darry, who raised my siblings and me to have an education, to feel safe, and sample paternal love. When he died, I thought I'd never find a father again. Until Ser Barristan came, saving Daenerys from a warlock in Astapor. A mentor and protector. Ser Barristan spoke the facts when lies corrupt the past. The truth about my father. The memories of Rhaegar.

Along with his guidance. I wanted to be a Just Queen. And he made it so.

"My dear, when you wake, there shall be one war left. A war you have to decide if it's worth the justice you seek for your family," He said. "You will face one more trial in your life. I cannot say what this trial would be. It will test and break you, and your decision will decide how you will be seen as Queen."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I cannot say," he answered, tucking a strand of hair out of my face. "All I can say, if you choose the right path, there shall be happiness. All I want now is for you to be happy. Your life has been nothing but the happiness of others and suffering. When you wake and are healing, take that moment of what your heart has desired."

"Ser Barristan," I whispered.

"Either it is Queen of the Six Kingdoms or a Mother in Braavos, you take control of your destiny," he said. "All I want is you to be happy."

My eyes watered when hearing this.

"Promise me you will seek happiness." He said.

"I promise," I cried, hugging him.

Ser Barristan wrapped his arms around me while rubbing my back.

"You can do this; you have come so far and fulfilled your destiny." He murmured. "Now you can rest and plan your future."

I could only nod.

"There is someone you need to see," he added.

I was confused, as Ser Barristan took my head and lead the way out of the darkness. There was a light at the end. At first, I panicked, remembering people who had near-death experiences saying there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Ser Barristan gave a reassuring look, as we reached the end. We stepped out of the darkness and onto a beach. Not any beach, but Dragonstone. There the individual stood proud. His scales were shining under the rare sunlight.

"Viserion!" I gasped, running towards my familiar.

Viserion gave a purr, as he lowered his head. I hugged his snout, wrapping my arms around his nuzzle and resting my head on his face. Viserion pressed in, showing his love. We could sense our auras reconnecting.

"I thought I lost you," I breathed.

"Some friends can't be replaced," Ser Barristan said. "Well, luckily, some don't have to be."

"How?" I asked. "The wounds…I felt his soul…"

"The bond you two share is strong," he said. "Stronger than anyone. If Viserion were a man, he would be the perfect match."

Viserion rumbled in laughter. Then I remembered the voice I heard in the Wolfswood.

"I heard you, my friend," I said.

Viserion nodded as a soft whisper of a voice echoed in my head, "Together."

My eyes widen.

"How?" I asked.

"The spells you used in battle connected your life with his. A fraction of a moment can you two understand one another," Ser Barristan answered. "However, when you both wake, the ability to speak no longer be there. Not until the brick of death or the overuse of magic. Death will not happen for a very long time."

"Until I die of old age?" I asked.

Ser Barristan nodded, "Yes. You have died once and nearly died twice. Death will not claim you. As long as you follow the right path."

I nodded, stroking Viserion's snout.

.o0o.

Jon's POV

Jon felt exhausted, yet sleep did not arrive. All around him was death and destruction. Sansa stood beside him, begging him to rest. But he couldn't. How could he? The Long Night was over. Thousands of men and women are dead. Winterfell was in shambles. Alysanne was mortally injured. Let alone the Night King's words. Jon paused as he stared at Bran from a distance. The Night King was after the entity inside Bran.

Something told him not to trust the Three-Eyed Raven. As he entered the courtyard, Jon spotted Daenerys talking with Grey Worm. Curious, he came over, along with Sansa.

"What is going on?" Sansa asked.

"My sister sword have not returned," Daenerys said.

"So?" Sansa asked.

Daenerys frowned, as she explained, "The sword belonged to our father. I'm asking Grey Worm and several of our men to retrieve it. And check on the dragons."

Jon took a moment. At the crash site where Viserion fell, there were parts of armor, but no sword found. Then again, they did not scavenge the sword at the other dragon's fallen site. If the sword held importance, Jon felt it was right to search for it as well.

"I'll come too," Jon said.

"No, you need to rest," Sansa implored.

"Let him," Arya said, appearing out of nowhere.

Sansa was about to argue, then sighed. She was more Tully like her Mother. Jon and Arya were more stubborn, like most Starks. Jon nodded to Arya before getting more volunteers in the search. Tormund and Gendry volunteered as well. They broke into two groups. As the Unsullied went in the direction where Viserion was, along with livestock. The rest went in the direction where the Ice Dragon fell. The sun rising ever so high.

Many thoughts were stirring in Jon's head. Many thoughts about his heritage. Earlier Daenerys told him Ser Barristan was dead. The only living person who has a connection with his father might be dying as well. Jon will always consider Ned Stark as his father. Despite all the lies. Even Jeor Mormont had been a father figure as well. But he needed to know more about Rhaegar. Not the label history has described him. Bran could tell him, but Jon couldn't trust the Three-Eyed Raven. Jon needed Alysanne to survive. She is the only one who understands.

Let alone preparing the contract to forge an alliance and truce between the North and House Targaryen. Daenerys wants all of the Seven Kingdoms. The North won't bend the knee. Even if Jon did, Sansa and Arya won't. Also, him being the rightful heir. The Dragon Sisters fought hard to reclaim the Iron Throne. And all of a sudden, he appears, and all was for not. Jon never wanted to be King. Therefore, ruling the Seven Kingdoms is out of hand.

It wasn't long when they reach the Ice Dragons remains. The creature sprawls out, wings shattered while limbs in an awkward angle.

"Well, there's the fucker," Tormund said. "The dragons did a number on this bastard."

Jon nodded, recalling the spell he used to connect with Rhaegal. He felt every bite and scratch. The Dance of Dragons is an understatement. It was brutality. The men continued to search, ensuring the dragon was dead. There was no movement from the stomach or air being puffed from the snout. So many scratchers, lacerations, and bite mark mare its skin. At first glance, the Ice Dragon appeared to be made of ice, except if it wasn't for the blood that seeped from its wounds. When they check the chest, Jon found the cause of death.

A Valyrian sword was lodged in its chest, as the leather skin cracked.

"Well, fuck me. Dragon Queen killed the dragon," Tormund praised.

The White Wolf was bewildered. Then again, he killed the Night King. Sighing, Jon grabbed hold of the handle, mustering all of his strength to get it out. It would not budge. It was so stuck, that Tormund and Gendry joined in, yanking at it with all their might. Several attempts until it flung out, causing the men to fall. Tormund laughed while Gendry sighed.

Jon, on the other hand, examined the Targaryen Sword. He recalled Alysanne telling him about it while sailing North. The Mad King made it, using what little Valyrian steel he could find. Enough to make an arming sword. A sword that a royal made was not decorated like Oathkeeper or Heartsbane. It was simple. The guard rounded and smooth, yet as he examined closer on the rain-guard, there was an etching of a dragon. Meanwhile, the pommel had forged into a dragon's head.

Gendry came over to check the damage.

"I don't see much damage, though it could use a wet stone," Gendry suggested.

"Our blacksmith can do that," Grey Worm said.

Gendry nodded, having little experience with Valyrian steel. The last thing he wanted was accidentally cutting off his fingers before even noticing they were cut off. Jon nodded as well, giving the Targaryen sword to the Unsullied Commander.

"We better head back," Jon advised.

"But first," Tormund walked over to the dragon's head with his dagger. He maneuvers the dragon's frozen lips, before prying out a dozen teeth. Gendry assumed it was a wildling thing. Once Tormund was done, the four men headed back to Winterfell.

They needed to rest before collecting the dead.

Sighing, Jon stared at the dawn.

Hey guys, so what do you think about this chapter? I thought you guys should have one more scene with Ser Barristan.

Also, I have a short story out on Alysanne and Daenerys. It is called Dothraki Moon Festival. Here is the Summary:

What if the wine assassination never happened? What if Daenerys gave birth to Rhaego, and Drogo was still alive. See a possible life the Targaryen sisters would've had in the Khalasar. As the Dothraki Moon Festival is fast approaching, Alysanne is not sure to partake. Can Jorah protect her through these heated times or does Drogo and Daenerys have something up their sleeve?

Also due to the Corona Virus, I have more free time. I wish everyone to be safe and careful. Make sure to wash your hands.

Thank your for reading and please leave a review.