Chapter 46: The Kiss of Love is the Kiss of Life

In the south...

Dorne...

Arianne Martell POV

Today was her wedding day, and Arianne was not happy about it, but she did it for Dorne's sake and future.

Ellaria left for Hellholt this morning, with her little son, and she already missed him terribly. This was the highest price she had to pay for Dorne's crown. To stay away from her son.

Once, she thought that losing what was rightfully hers was the worst thing, but being away from her son was the worst thing.

"You are beautiful sister," she heard her brother, Trystane, voice coming from the door, and smiled weakly as she looked into the great mirror. Her little brother will accompany her to the Septon.

"I must speak to you, brother," she said, seriously and trying to find the best words, taking him by the hand and sitting on her bed. "You know, I'm getting married for the good of Dorne, don't you?"

And the young Martell nodded, not knowing what to say, and taking a breath, she continued, "We all have to make a sacrifice for the good of Dorne. And that is why I want to inform you that I have promised a union between our house and the House of Fowler."

"Who am I going to marry?" he asked, looking down.

"Jeyne. One of Lord Fowler's twin daughters, who is the heir to the House," said Arianne, and her brother, though not in agreement, nodded, without looking at her.

Arianne didn't know what else to add and heard her brother say, "We'd better get going. We don't want to keep the guests waiting." Standing up, offering her the elbow. Arianne stood up and put her hand in and they headed to the sept.

When they arrived there, Arianne saw all the lords and ladies who had come in such a short notice gathered in the small sept, and at the bottom of the Septon was her betrothed, Cletus Yronwood.

He wore a tunic with the colours of his house, his hair long and well-groomed, were left untied, and the cloak of his House on his shoulder, and which he will place it on her shoulders.

The walk seemed like an eternity to her, and once there, Trystane took off her cloak with the symbol of House Martell.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection," said the Septon, she felt Cletus place the cloak on her shoulders. After that, they both turned towards the Septon and the old man ties their joined hands together with the laces.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon each other and say the words."

They turned to look at each other starting to recite the words together, "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…."

"I am hers and she is mine…"

"I am his and he is mine…"

"…. from this day until the end of my days."

"Let it be known that Arianne of House Martell and Cletus of House Yronwood are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife," Cletus said with a high voice, before placing his lips on hers, and the only thing that she really felt was coldness and poison from his lips. No love or warmth, that she had felt in that cave with the prince of Highgarden.

When they turned to the guests, they started to clap the hands, and Arianne's gaze stopped upon his father, who had a serious and unreadable expression.

After the ceremony in the Sept, they all gathered in the feast hall of the Old Palace, where the wedding reception was hosted, with all the guests.

Sitting at the high table, Ariane was watching them all, as usual, and saw her brother head toward the twin Fowler, and she smiled. She didn't have the possibility to talk to the girl in question, but they already decided with Lord Fowler, that when Trystan will be at age they will marry.

Arianne knows that soon will come the moment of the bedding, and so leaning toward her new husband, she said, "I hope that your father will send men to Lemonwood to fight the Dothraki that will invade us."

"Yes, he will. I already sent him a raven. But you need to understand that it takes time to gather the forces and to march from Yronwood to Lemonwood."

"I know it took time. I'm not stupid. I want just to be sure that he will do that."

"He will, and so will do my brother in law. Ser Ryon Allyrion, who is far more near Lemonwood than my father," he said taking a sip.

"Good," she said, smiling before turning her attention back to the feast.

Sometime later….

They had danced, eaten and drunk, and now was the time for the bedding, but as for her request there would not be a ceremony. Only the two of them, and now she was waiting for him to come in her chambers.

She was wearing a very light night gown that exposed most of her body and highlighting her round ripe breasts and hips.

Arianne was sure that after this night, the young man of House Yronwood will be at her feet like a loyal dog and do whatever she asks.

When she heard the door opening, Arianne with the goblet in hand, looked in that direction, seeing him enter, with a look of lust on his face and something else, that she couldn't quite understand.

She smirked seductively, looking at him, before taking a sip of Dornish wine and licking her lips to taste the sweetness of the wine on them, and of course sending also another meaning to the man.

Arianne was sure that by now he was hard as a rock, and only waiting for her to grant permission, but she never was one to play easily. First, she wanted to tease him, and torture him. So, taking another slow and loud sip, she asked, "Have you ever been with a woman before, Cletus?"

The man, swallowing, nodded, and his gaze never left her body. So, taking another sip, and spreading her legs, she asked, "Are you thirsty, dear husband? Would you like some wine?" the running her hand on her sex, she added, "Ore maybe something else?"

He immediately started to unbutton his tunic, tossing it aside, as he was watching her slowly run the hand over her cunt. Then also the shirt and the boats came off, leaving him bare chest in front of her, and she couldn't deny that he has stroked her.

He was well built despite not being tall as Willas, and she could see his troubling cock in his trousers begging to be free, but not yet. If she will be trapped in this loveless marriage, first she will need to know how much pleasantly skilled he is and starting with the tongue.

He rushed at her immediately, knocking her on the bed, starting to devour her with a heated kiss, and she was trying to keep at his pace even thought it was very difficult. He was passionate as a lover

Cletus rose a bit, and as he was sitting on his knees teared apart her night gone, freeing her breasts, and grabbing them, he bent down, starting to lick and bit her huge dark nipples, and murmuring something that she couldn't understand, because of the huge weave of pleasure that she was experiencing.

And once he left her big breasts, she felt him place kiss near her sensitive part of her cunt, and then give a long lick on her cunt, making her gasp.

"Seven Gods!" she moaned but biting her tongue to stop the coming of her lover's name. Willas. Then one she imagined was ravaging on her pussy right now.

Then she felt him start to thrust his fingers into her, making her grasp the sheets and bit her lips to prevent the screams of pleasure, as with the other hand she was pinching her nipples and squeeze her breasts.

She could feel that she was reaching her climax, however, he suddenly stopped, and she, despite panting rose up, looked at him in confusion, and seeing him pull down his trousers and free his hard cock. He was quite impressive. Long and thick.

"Lay down and close your eyes," he said in a commanding way.

"What?"

"I Said. Lay down," he respited starting to stroke himself.

"Why?"

"Do it, and you will find."

"You know, usually in bed I am in charge not my lovers," she said in defiance rising even more, and her breast were hanging.

She saw him glance at them for a moment before returning his attention back to her face saying, "Trust me."

Sighing, Arianne lay down, closing her eyes, and felt him climb on the bed. She will let him for this only time in charge, but next time she will have her revenge.

Suddenly, she felt something wet stroking on her lips, until she understood that he was rubbing his cock on them.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Sucking his cock wasn't part of the plan for tonight, but now she could do nothing. So, she slowly granted him access.

He started to move his hips, therefore his cock was moving in her mouth. Then he pulled out, giving her possibility to take a breath before thrusting again and starting to fuck her mouth and with the other hand stroke her pussy. Gods, the pleasure that was building inside her was so high, that she didn't know if she will be able to keep at bay her coming for far too long.

Then, after a few moments, she felt him pull out again, and move away. She didn't open her eyes immediately, but when she did, she saw him between her legs, and with one powerful thrust enter her, making her gasp and ark her back.

Leaning down, he whispered, "After this night you will forget every previews lover that you had."

And he starts to move his hips.

Cletus Yronwood POV

Cletus was starting to wake up when the sun lights were on his eyes, but when he wanted to get up, he could do it because there was a warm body pinning him down. Glancing to his side, Cletus saw his beautiful wife sleeping with her head on his chest and an arm hugging him. He couldn't believe that she has done this, since after the sex, she turned around and lay far away from him.

Sighing, he watched his sleeping wife for a moment, wondering if anything could be born between them. He heard a lot regarding the reputation of the Princes of Dorne.

She was calculating, adventurous, and fierce-tempered woman, and she always obtains what she wants at all cost. She wasn't a shy woman, and he saw it this night, and he heard that she uses her looks to get what she wants, seducing men to get them to do her bidding, and granting sexual favours in this context.

And that is what she is doing with him. Using her body and seduction to have what she wants. And it's not that he is complaining about that. But to make him do what she wants, she will need to do far more harder things than this.

Slowly, he extracts himself from her grasp, heading towards the window of the room to take some fresh air. Now that half of their plan had succeeded, it was time to focus on the other aspects. Find the location of Willas Tyrell, kill him, and then kill the bastard too. With the red Viper at Lemonwood, there was only the whore of Hellholt to protect the boy. And for that mission, he will need to hire a faceless man. Then kill the Dothraki Khal, and Quentyn.

As he was watching out the window, Cletus saw, a hawk flying near their, not understanding why there was one, until he remembered that the heir of Highgarden loved this kind of animals.

"Well. I will have to kill that beast and who know. Maybe give him as a food to Arianne," tough to himself Cletus, hearing noises behind him, and glancing, he saw Ariane stirring, and starting to wake up.

Well, maybe he will have to give her a morning gift to make sweeten her, he thought, smirking, filling himself a goblet of wine and dining it all, before heading to the bed.

Riverlands…

Edmure Tully POV

Edmure was on the battlements of the Twins watching as his army was crossing the Trident. Twenty-five thousand men he mastered to march on the north and free his sister and his secret daughter. And yet, despite this number, he wasn't sure if he can even pass Moat Cailin. His uncle had advised him to sail from Seaguard towards the north, but Edmure dismissed that plan as too dangerous, and yet he knows that marching in the neck was even more dangerous than sailing with the ships.

"Well, well, well, it's always good to see twenty thousand sheep going to the slaughterhouse. The wolves will howl with joy for so much meat," said a voice coming, and Edmure saw Walder Frey slowly came at him. Damn old worm.

"Well, there are also sheep of yours in that army," said Edmure returning his gaze there. He hated the Frey since he was a child, and the damn wreck always wanted to marry him one of his daughters. And now he succeeds. A daughter of his will be Queen at his return.

"Yes, they are. Many of whom, are children of mine. But they must march to ensure that my interests are safe and honoured."

"They will, Lord Frey. Don't worry," Edmure said, starting to climb down from the battlements, and head toward his horse and the five Kingsguard that were with him.

Climbing on the horse, he rides out following his army to who knows what fate was awaiting them.

In the North...

Winterfell...

Different POV

They were in the Great Hall with the Red Priestess and her retinue. There were also many Unsullied inside, ready to intervene if they tried anything.

"You said you were here to bring our king back to life. How?" asked Rhaegar, but instead of the priestess, it was Shiera who answered, "Sacrificing the life of the dragon inside the silver egg."

"You want to sacrifice a dragon?" Rhaegar asked with wide eyes.

"His flame has extinguished, and to rekindle it requires another flame. The flame of the unborn dragon. You must choose. The king or the dragon. A life for a life."

Swallowing, Rhaegar asked, "What assurances do we have that you'll really bring him back and not do something worse to him."

"Nothing is certain, Rhaegar son of Aerys, except the will of the Red God," said Melisandre as she approached, and Grey Worm, with two Unsullied stepped forward, making the Red Priestess stop, and smirk.

Rhaegar looked towards Shiera, asking with a sigh, "Do you think we can trust her?

"No. But do we have another choice?" she asked, not looking at him, and Rhaegar, sighing nodded. Turning to the Commander of the Unsullied, he said, "Turgon Nudha, jikagon naejot se dārys se dāria's tistālion se jiōragon se gēlenka drōmon. Pār maghagon ziry naejot īlva." (Grey Worm, go to the King and Queen's room and get the silver egg. Then bring it to the crypts.)

The man nodded, leaving the room, while Rhaegar stood up and said, "Come with me."

When they reached the entrance to the crypt, Rhaegar lit the torches, while the two who accompanied the woman lit their flaming swords. If he wasn't aware of Shiera's skills, the flaming swords would have surprised and perhaps even worried him, but not now.

"So, flaming swords?" asked Rhaegar looking at the man.

"Yes. Flaming swords, women and wine," laughed the man, smiling and taking a sip from his canteen, "Thoros of Myr is my name."

"Rhaegar Targaryen."

As they walked through the tunnels toward the dungeon that housed Jon's body, Rhaegar heard one of the men say, "This place is dark. I can feel the wickedness inside it." But the Red Priestess did not answer.

As they reached their destination, Rhaegar saw the young Stark was waiting there, and once she saw them, she stepped in front of Melisandre, asking, "So, are you going to resurrect my brother?"

"I'm going to try to resurrect the Last Hero. If I succeed or fail, it's up to the Red God," Melisandre responded, and looking Arya in the eyes, "Who are you?"

"I'm Arya Stark-"

"I see darkness in you. And in that darkness-"

"The only darkness that is her is you and your followers," said the young Stark, interrupting the Red Priestess, and pulling out a dagger, before cutting her palm and place it on the door.

Rhaegar leaning to Shiera asked, whispering, "Will the dragon's life be the only price to pay for his return?"

"For his life, maybe yes," she said, and asking then, looking in his eyes, "but for their help? What will be the price? That's the good question." Rhaegar nodded, before following the red Priestess inside the dark room.

Inside, Jon's body was lying on big stone, his skin was still blue, and that was meaning coldness. This was the first time that Rhaegar saw the body of the young king, and it was a quite scary thing to see.

Melisandre approached the king's body, placing the hands on him, and with closed eyes said, "His flame has extinguished, and the darkness and the coldness of the Great Other has taken over. It will be hard to bring him back, but if R'hollor wants us to do it, we will succeed."

Turning toward him, she said, "We will light fires inside this crypt. And once the Unsullied will bring her the egg, we will start the ritual. But no one of you will stay inside the crypts," and looking at Arya say, "And you will seal the door."

"Who assures us that you won't hurt him," asked Arya Stark, and in that moment, he saw Grey Worm bring the egg and place it on Jon's body.

"No one," said Melisandre. "Now leave this place. Soon the darkness will arise, and we need to summon our Lord to cast the shadows away from here."

"Henujagon," he said to the Unsullied. Then to the others, "Everyone out."

Once they were outside the crypts, they sealed the main door, with a big chain, and Unsullieds were gathered in the courtyard, ready to fight whatever will come out from the crypt that isn't Jon himself.

Thoros of Myr and Alester Sarwyc, were lighting the fires that will make the symbol of R'hllor on the floor, for the ritual. Then they took the wolf banner from his body, leaving him bare, and Melisandre approaching him, placed her warm hands on him, feeling how his coldness and darkness were claiming her warm and her fire.

Closing her eyes, Melisandre started the prayer that the High Priestess in Volantis taught her.

"Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon." (We ask the Lord to shine his light and lead a soul out of darkness.)

Jon was in that same darkness as always since the moment he died, hearing a woman chant some words in High Valyrian. And besides the usual coldness, he could feel warmth, and see the shapes of a woman in fire in the distance approaching him.

The more the fire woman approached him, the more he could recognize her. And once she was at a few steps, he finally could match the face in the flame. It was Dany. His Dany.

"Come, Jon," She said, stretching her arm. "I need you."

"Dany," he tried to grab it, but before their hands could touch, she floats away. Jon start Jon started to follow her, running in the darkness that was now lightened by the flaming forms of Daenerys, and he heard singing words in Valyrian and in the Old Tongue.

He ran for only the Gods know how much time till he reached the same forest of Weirwood where the wolf leads him last time, only that this now it was Daenerys. And the forest was in flame this time.

Jon stopped not daring to enter, because the heat of the fire was too much to bear, but hearing the pleading voice of his love, he charged towards the fire running at great speed, and to his surprise it didn't burn him.

When he reached the end, he finally stopped seeing at what it was. The great Weirwood of the Old Gods, and around it there was a ring of fire.

"Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon." (We beg the Lord to share his fire and light a candle that has gone out."

Jon heard again the woman chant in High Valyrian, different words, and this time he could feel that the coldness inside his body was starting to pass, but his heart wasn't still beating.

Slowly, Jon began to approach the ring of fire, and the flames started to become less and less, leaving him an entrance, before it closed behind him.

The heat was still high for his taste, but the cold and dead heart was a good match against it. As he was looking at the Weirwood of the Gods, Jon noticed that there was a stone at its feet, and on it there was someone lying.

Approaching it, he finally saw was lying on it. It was Daenerys, no more in fire, but in a beautiful red and black dress, colours of House Targaryen. Her hairs were free and groomed, her eyes closed, and the hands intertwined in her belly. Her feet were also bare.

"Dany," he said slowly, and caressing her, but his love didn't wake up. "Dany?" And again, nothing happens.

He was starting to worry since he didn't know what was happening, and why she wasn't waking when he called her.

"The Kiss of Love is the Kiss of life," he heard a woman's voice, whispering. "The kiss of hate is the kiss of death." And he heard that repeatedly in his mind.

Leaning down, he kissed her on the perfect lips, hoping that maybe this way, she would wake up, and the kiss was feeling so strange, like it was real.

Daenerys slowly opened her beautiful violet eyes that made him fall in love, and smiled at him. However, in that same instant, he felt a great hit in his heart that made him clench and fall on Daenerys.

She immediately rose up at seeing Jon fall on her, as panic took over her. She looked around and saw that around them there were flames, dying, and where she was lying, a large stone, there was also a Weirwood.

Turning her attention back to Jon, she started to call him, "Jon?" and lightly slap him on his face. "Wake up Jon."

"Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson." (From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life.)

Jon heard that same woman's voice as his mind was obscured. And then a winter storm coming at him at full force, that made him pin to the icy grown.

"Jon?" he heard him calling. "Wake up, Jon." And after hearing that a few times, he finally recognizes was Dany. But looking round it wasn't the same place where he was with here a few moments ago. Now, looking better it was an icy ground with a great crack on it.

"What is this Place!" shouted Jon to no one.

"Your wounded heart that is slowly healing because of the kiss of life," a woman's voice brought from the wind snowstorm at him. "The kiss of Love."

"What do you mean!" he shouted again, getting no response in return. However, the icy ground was starting to melt more and more, as Daenerys' pleads were getting louder and louder.

"It doesn't work, my lady. He is lost," said Thoros. "Too much time had passed since his death. And what is worse, he died in the land of the Great Other."

"It will work. It must work. The Lord of Light showed me a vision… I'm sure it was him…he is the-"

"Last Hero. I know. And the Targaryen girl is the Princess that was Promised. It is her that we should help and not him. He is a follower of the Old Gods. The false Gods." But ignoring him, Melisandre resumed to plead her lord. She knows why this wasn't working. The power of the Old Gods in this place was too strong.

"Lord, cast your light upon this man, your servant. Bring him back from death and darkness. His flame has been extinguished. Restore it."

Daenerys keep hitting him lightly, and cry and beg for him to wake up, as the wet tears were falling on his beautiful face that was now normal, and slowly she saw him finally wake up.

"Dany," he said with widened eyes and barely a whisper as he tried to touch her face, even though he stopped midway, therefore, making her grasp his hand and place it on her cheek.

The hand was warm and full of life, and she grasped to the memory of this touch that longed it for such a long time.

"How…" he started stopping to swallow, before continuing, "How is this possible?"

"I don't know," she whispered, bringing her hand on his face, as his was resting on hers. "I was prying at the Weirwood of the Dreadfort. Then I went back to my room and now I woke up in this strange place."

"Bolton," murmured Jon with greeted teeth. "I will rip his cursed heart with my bare hand…"

"Don't worry my love," she said, raising his chin. "Soon Bolton will have what he deserved. I planned all. But first you need to return. I want you back Jon." Then whispering she added, "I need you," placing her lips on his, and they kissed for a long time before he deepened it, making her fall on her back, and him, settle between her legs.

But suddenly the Weirwood tree started to move, and a powerful voice of man, say, "The time for you to reborn, has come!"

And she saw Jon lose consciousness again, and fall. And in that same moment, Daenerys heard a woman's voice whispering, "Mother of Dragon, bride of fire. You give him the kiss of love the kiss of life."

And suddenly she felt it. She felt that everything was starting to fade, and Jon was starting to revive. Then her mind went black.

"Jon!" Daenerys woke up, gasping her lover's name, and breathing fast, feeling as a weight had been lifted from her heart, despite it was beating fast.

She could feel her body being all sweaty, and she couldn't tell if what she saw was real or a dream, or maybe a future event.

Daenerys got up in a sitting position, resting her back against the headrest of the bed, bringing her knees to her chest and resting her head on them.

As she looked out the window, Daenerys realized that dawn had not yet come, and that was good because it meant that there was still a lot of time before that insufferable Myranda would come.

Sighing, she got down from the bed, and approached the table, filling herself a goblet with ale, before heading towards the fireplace.

Taking a fire poker, she sat down and started rumbling in the fireplace, to rekindle the flame, and once it was ready, she threw a log of it inside waiting for it to light.

Taking a sip, and bringing her knees up, Daenerys thought about what she saw. Old gods, fire, and Jon in her arms. It seemed so real, and yet it wasn't. Only a dream. A sweet and beautiful dream with her love.

And it felt so good to touch and kiss him.

Instead, she felt nauseous at remembering Bolton's kisses on her neck or cheek, not to mention when he put his hand on her belly trying to make it rise toward her breast. Pity that her sword was still in his possession otherwise she would have already put her plan in advance.

Luckily Bolton is more stupid than he expected otherwise she would have had to take more extreme actions, and thankfully he did not discover Leontes and the other men of the Hundred Blades.

One week and what Shiera revealed her will come true. She carefully planned everything for the wedding and her friend was on the way. She could feel it. Fire and Blood will rain on the Bolton and his allies. For every woman they have reaped, for every person they had killed and for her son. For Aeinon.

However, after these events, Daenerys hopes that her beloved Jon will forgive her, even if nothing happened with Bolton. But forgive her for failing to protect their little boy.

"Aeinon I hope that wherever you are, you will forgive the carelessness of your young mother," Daenerys whispered, closing her eye, feeling the tears start to fall and cry silently. In front of the Bolton she tries to show her queen face. Strong, powerful, royal, fearless. A dragon.

But the truth was that everything was a lie. A lie that she uses to hide the pain that she is feeling now. Being alone in this pit of snakes. Despite her father being in the dungeons with the other sons and daughters of the North.

Jon eyes snap open and he gasps for breath, as he rose up. All around him was darkness, until suddenly two blades lit, and three figures appeared, one of them said, "Welcome back, son of winter."

"Who are you?" he asked, with a weak and rattled voice. "Where's my Dany?"

But the woman, ignoring his question, asked instead, "You have been in the afterlife. What have you seen?"

"Where's Dany?" he asked again, despite knowing the truth, and hoping it not to be.

"In the clutches of the flayed man."

"Damn Bolton," he thought all that was just a dream, nothing real, when he tried to get down, Jon fall on the floor and couldn't stand up. It was all so strange. His own body feels strange. He could feel that there were three holes on his body and glancing down he saw.

And his chest hurt like hell. "I have to... Dany..."

" Here, Your Grace. Some wine to moisten the throat," said a man giving him a canteen and then putting something heavy on his shoulders.

"Who are you?" Jon asked again, after he drinks a lot of not so sweet wine, stating to cough.

"My name is Melisandre, Red Priestess of Asshai. And this is Thoros of Myr. We are here to help you in the great war-"

"And convert my people to the Lord of Light, I bet," said Jon, with wheezed and rattled voice, clutching his cape, and feeling the great cold and his body tremble.

" Here, Your Grace. Some wine to moisten the throat," said a man giving him a canteen and then putting something heavy on his shoulders.

Jon drank immediately, and a lot of this sweet wine, starting to cough, and asking, "Who are you?"

"My name is Melisandre, Red Priestess of Asshai. And this is Thoros of Myr. We are here to help you in the great war-"

"And turn my people to the Lord of light, I bet," said Jon, with wheezed and rattled voice, clutching his cape, and feeling the great cold and his body tremble.

"Yes. A fair price, I would say, for our help in the great war, and for your resurrection."

"I doubt you had anything to do with my resurrection," Jon said seriously recalling what he saw and where he was. And rising, he tries to walk, but falters, and Thoros of Myr manages to catch him.

"Easy, Your Grace," said the priest making him sit again on the stone on which he was lying on, and Jon heard bits on an iron door.

Swallowing, and looking towards the Red Priestess, he said, "Conversion to your Red God will never happen. I am faithful to the old gods, and if our faith does not please you, you can go back to Essos."

Before the priestess could answer, Jon saw the Unsullieds enter with torches in their hands, and with them also Grey Worm, "Ñuha Dārys." (My King.)

"Grey worm," he said, and saw the commander of the Unsullied give him some clothes. And then helped him to leave these gloomy crypts.

However, he heard Melisandre say, "Gūrogon se morghe drōmon." (Take the lifeless egg.)

When he came out of the crypts, Jon saw a lot of people gathered there, and then his mother met him, clashing her body with his, and crying as she hugged him tightly, and so he did.

"You are back, you are back…. My son," whispered between sobs as her body was trembling and he on the other hand was whispering comforting words to her.

Jon was now heading to his chambers escorted by some of his Wolfsguard, and by his mother. But not the Red Priestess.

His advisors informed him about the most recent events, and of some, he was already aware. Daenerys birth; Shiera and Rhaegar, that he saw them, though, didn't get the chance to talk with, however, he won't' deny that the woman is of great beauty; The sellsword Company; Catleyn Plots and of course her hand in his father's death; Daenerys' kidnapping; Robb marching on the Dreadfort with the wildings; and Arya leaving Winterfell, tonight to go in search of Sansa with Nymeria by her side.

When he reached his door, Jon stopped, leaning on it a bit. Behind this door there was his son. Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood. And his heart was pounding as if behind it, there were thousands of enemies waiting for him.

He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Jon knows perfectly well to whom it belonged, and in fact he heard her say, "Everything will be all right, Jon. You can do it."

Jon nodded, and swallowing, said, "It's just that I'm fucking scared."

"I know. Everyone is the first time at seeing their son. Your father was the same and was older than you."

"Yes. But you were there to give him strength and reassure him," he whispered, smiling, before taking a breath and open the door.

Inside it was quite warm, and there were two Wolfsguard to protect him. Viserys and Dacey.

When they saw him, Dacey immediately, run at him, hugging him tightly, and whispering, "I thought we lost our King and friend."

"Yeah. Quite a shit hole it was that," he said, chuckling, stopping the hug, and looking at her. "Are these tears for me, little bear?"

"Fuck you," she said playfully stepping away.

"Vis," he greeted his brother in law, with a hug, who was standing next to the cradle.

"Your grace. It's good to see you back," the silver haired man said, stepping away. Therefore, making his eyes fall on the cradle next to the bed.

So, Jon started to approach the cradle, slowly, with the heart beating fast as never before and the breath increase. His chest was moving at the rhythm too.

And once he got there, his breath almost took off. He finally saw him. His son, Aeinon, if he wasn't mistake, and he was so beautiful, and small. Eyes close, hands up, as he was sleeping, and Jon could see the growing silver hairs on his little head.

"You can take him in your arm, Jon," his mother Whispered, and Jon smiling, returned his attention back to his son.

"I know. It's just that….my limbs are still weak and I'm afraid to drop him," he said worried.

"You won't. He will give you strength, just like you gave me, when I was too weak," his mother said, placing a hand on his cheek smiling in reassurance.

Jon nodded, and slowly without waking him, he took his son in his arms, and by the contact he could feel a bond that it was made. But when he opened his eyes. His beautiful grey eyes, that were his, Jon was sure that he will give him the world. And will protect him from any harm. Cursed be those who will try to harm his family.

When Jon offered him the finger, little Aeinon grasped it, smiling at him, and releasing a noise.

"He already loves you," giggled his mother looking at them.

"Yes. He does. But he needs his mother," said Jon, feeling the anger inside him igniting and start to take over. "Mother. You will stay with Aeinon and never leave him alone."

His mother nodded, and Jon placed Aeinon in her arms, before stretching himself and kissing his son on the head and his mother on the cheek. Then he headed toward the door.

Opening, he said, "Grey Worm. Gather the Unsullied. Get them ready to march," and the commander nodded, running away. Turning toward those who were present inside the room, he said, "Dacey. Stay with my mother and protect Aeinon. Everyone else, with me to the great hall."

And he headed there.

He was sitting at the table, with a goblet of strong ale next to him, his advisors next to him, where the map of the Dreadfort and the North was placed.

Taking a long sip to wet his troth, Jon said, "Robb's departure with the Wildlings will draw Bolton attention on them, and with the help of the giants we will break the gates easily." Stopping he took another sip, before continuing. "We can be sure that Bolton won't face us in open field, and behind the wall of the Dreadfort there are at least five thousand men. Maybe more. There are also the Second sons, two thousand more soldiers, and maybe the other house of the North at his side."

Jon stopped for a moment to regain his breath. It was still difficult to breath, but that won't stop him from getting Dany back. Taking another sip, he continued, "The problem is not the battle it's self, but the fact that Bolton has prisoners and we can't attack it, only siege. I don't want to put them in danger."

"Then why are we marching, your grace?" asked Rhaegar, and Jon, looking up at him, said, "We march to free them and put an end to House Bolton, Rhaegar."

"And how you intend to do that?" asked the silver haired man.

"By intruding inside the castle through the secret passages."

"Bolton will expect us to do that. He may already have laid a trap," said the Lord Commander of the Wolfsguard, SmallJon.

"Oh. He did that for sure. But that will not stop me. And in fact, I want only volunteers for this assault."

"Then the Wolfsguard will come with you, my king," said SmallJon, and he nodded.

"And so, will I," said the woman that was standing next to Rhaegar.

"Who are you?" asked Jon not really trusting her. Daenerys was trusted this woman, and yet she did nothing to change the future.

"That's a story for another day," she said smirking. "However, I will tell you this. Once the Battle against Bolton is done, you should march on south."

At that, Jon looked at her confusedly, because no one of those who were here, said anything about movements on the southern borders. So, taking a sip, he asked, "What do you mean?"

"That fish has crossed the trident with a big army an is heading here," the woman said, as if it was nothing.

"How many? How long till they reach Moat Cailin?" Jon rose immediately, but the woman didn't respond and smirking, left the Hall.

Jon felt angered by that, however, staying focused on saving Dany from the Bolton's claw, he said to Maester Luwin, "Sent the ravens to every lord, to every castle. Tell them to gather the forces they had and march south. On moat Cailin." Then turning to his brother in low, and new Lord of the Winter-Dragon. "Rhaegar. You will lead the Stark and Targaryen army. Ser Rodrick will stay at Winterfell to protect it with 500 men."

Draining all the wine from his goblet, Jon added, "Lord Commander. Gather the Wolfsguard. We leave in an hour. Benjen and Dacey will stay here to protect my mother and my son."

"Your grace. You need res," said Maester Luwin.

"There is no time for that. My wife needs me," said Jon, leaving the great hall and head to the forge to take his new armour.

White harbour…

Arthur was still in the dungeons of the white city, waiting for his fate, even though he didn't know what was. He was in this place far too long, and for every day that passed, Daenerys was more and more in danger.

As he was sitting on the bed of the dungeon, pondering how to escape, Artur hears footsteps coming in this direction, and a voice saying, "You know, he had no choice but to imprison you." Looking towards the rails, he saw that it was Ser Willas Manderley.

"And you think that justifies denying entry to the ships that bring supplies for the Salvation of the North?

"He has my daughters, Ser. Bolton already wounded my Wylla and-"

But Arthur started to laugh at him for that, saying, "Bolton will flay you up the moment he become ruler of the North."

"That may be true, Ser, but once he became ruler of the north, he will free my daughters, and then we will see who will flay who," said Willys Manderley, leaving the dungeon after throwing at him something of metal.

Now that he was alone, Arthur got up immediately, and looking on the floor he saw that it was a key. "Damn old Bastard," chuckled Arthur, picking the key and opening the door.

Silently and very carefully, Arthur began to head for the exit, stunting the guards, and taking one of their swords, considering that Manderly had Dawn.

Once he reached the courtyard, Artur saw a lot of men outside, then a saddled horse, with what looked to be his sword attached.

"Damn Manderly," muttered Arthur, and taking a breath, he ran straight to the horse, knocking and wounding some of the soldiers that were in his way.

"Prisoner! A prisoner is escaping!" shouted a soldier, but Artur managed to get on the horse in time, and gallop away, before they could close the gates.

Now he had to hurry to the Dreadfort.

One Week later…

Ramsey Bolton POV

Today was the day of his wedding and Ramsey was very excited about it. He had chosen a dark wool tunic embroidered with the flayed man on it; a Cape with the fur of a big wolf that had been hunted recently and to which had been added the fangs in an adoring manner; at his hip instead was hanging the queen's Valyrian steal, and which handle had been remade to resemble a flayed man, thought the other one, Ramsey didn't destroy it. He will use it for another sword.

When he heard a knock at his door and once, he was granted permission, Ramsey saw Soren enter, smiling, and saying, "I still think this is a mistake."

But Ramsey, ignoring him, asked instead, "Any news from our spies?"

"No. And that worries me. I fear that the Stark army is coming. "

"Nonsense. We Have their queen and Aerys Targaryen. Now escort me to the Godswood."

As he was walking, Ramsey smirking, looked at all the heirs of the lords that were present. Their gaze on him instead was full of anger, hate, and some of fears, and he stopped for a moment to look at the Manderley whore with the cut on the face, and he rejoiced at his masterpiece.

Maybe once the war is done before sending the heirs to their house, he should mark them properly as a reminder of loyalty.

Since he was the lord of the Dreadfort, Ramsey asked to his maester to perform the ritual for the wedding, and now he was waiting for her to come.

After some time, he saw Daenerys Targaryen coming, accompanied by her father, and escorted by two Bolton soldiers. She was very beautiful. Red and black dress, fox fur on her cape, and her hair were braided, with locks loosed on the sides. Ramsey couldn't wait for the night to come and fuck her pretty cunt.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this day?" asked Maester Wolkan, once they were a few steps, but the Targaryen didn't respond, and that was pissing him off. He waved to the soldiers to come.

"Father," the queen said, "Please." And Ramsey stopped the soldiers.

"Daenerys, of the House Targaryen, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?" responded Aerys, and Ramsey could feel the anger and the hate in the words he said.

"Ramsey, of House Bolton, Lord of Winterfell. Who gives her?"

The silver-haired man looked at him deadly, and with greeted teeth, said, "Aerys, of House Targaryen, father of the bride."

"Queen Daenerys, do you take this man?" asked Lord Aerys.

However, just before she responded, Ramsey heard the horns sounding, and guards running towards them.

"What is it?!"

"The wildlings! The wildlings are at the gates!" shouted the guard and everyone who was in the Godswood started to panic and run away.

In the chaos, Ramsey saw one thing. Daenerys was missing from the Godswood and so was her damn father.

"Soren. Gather the Bastards and the Flayed elite. Send half of them to the passages," Ramsey said, leaving the Godswood, and commanding the men to escort the heirs to the dungeons.