Chapter 50: Bloodmoon
In the South...
Dorne…
Oberyn Martell POV
Oberyn and his men retreat to Lemonwood leaving Planky Town to the enemy. Now that they landed Oberyn decide to use the guerrilla strategy against them.
The Dothraki will strike the towns, villages and the castles that are more vulnerable to them. But what worried him the most was Sunspear. He had the bad feeling that the Dothraki will head straight to Sunspear.
"Ser Denzel. Send a raven to Sunspear and inform them that the enemy landed," Oberyn said, before heading to his men, and get them ready for future assaults against the enemy.
"Ser Aron, Ser Andrey, Lord Gargalen, from now on we will divide our forces into small groups and attack the enemy by surprise. I want that every man has their weapons drained in poison as well as their pointy arrows. The enemy has the number, we have the cunning and the surprise."
"Any news from the north?" asked one of the soldiers, then another, "Will the King in the north came to help us against the Dothraki." And many more murmurs were among them.
"Silence!" shouted Oberyn, bringing them to order. "I know what you think, and I know the stories you have heard. But even if the King in the North does not come to our aid against the Dothraki, I promise you that Dorne will survive."
After giving them a look of encouragement, Oberyn returned his attention in getting ready the men. Soon they will put in motion their plan.
Tyrion Lannister POV
The Dothraki pillaged everything that was in the Planky Town and killing those who were still wounded or enslaving and reaping those who were left behind.
"Well, those fuckers know how to fight against unarmed people, but when they will face trained soldiers? What those naked cunts are going to do?" asked Bronn as they were walking through the destruction to go and speak with the Khal since they have been summoned.
"Well, there is no other way but to find out," Tyrion replied.
Once they reached the place where the Khal was sitting, with his Bloodriders near him, Tyrion asked, "What is it?" And one to the Magisters from Volantis translated to the Khal.
"The Khal wants to know where the silver-haired woman from the white desolation is."
"Tell the Khal that the Targaryen girl is in the North but to reach that land he first needs to conquer this one in our name," Tyrion said, daring to be more bolder, and the Magister immediately translated to the Khal, who started to be a bit restless and angry.
"I don't think he liked that," said Bronn, and Tyrion glanced up at him, seeing that he had the hand on the handle of the sword, ready to intervene.
The Khal got up immediately, starting to shoot words in an angry way and make also gestures with the arms, as the Dothraki were cheering for him. Tyrion immediately looked at the Magister in search of an answer, but he didn't have the courage to do open his mouth.
"Well, the situation is getting a little heated, it seems," said the sellsword.
Looking at him in furry, the Khal started to say words, and the Magister immediately started to translate, "Khal Drogo doesn't want to wait and assist your little scribbles for and Iron Chairs and lands. He wants the girl now."
"The Khal give his words to fight for us in exchange for the ships that carried him to Westeros and especially in the land where his silver-haired princess lives," Tyrion said, stepping forward, with his heart that was beating very fast.
The Magister immediately translated his world to the Khal, who has the same angry expression on his face.
"I think you have just fucked up our lives," said Bronn, and Tyrion looked up for a moment worried, before returning his attention back to the Khal.
The Khal moved quickly towards him, and started to say words that he didn't understand, except two: "cut" and "head".
"Khal Drogo says, why shouldn't he cut your heads right now, and ride to the white lands?"
"Because to do that they will need to pass through my brother, the best commander of Westeros and who has an army of two hundred thousand men at his command," Tyrion said, trying to sound as truthful as possible, considering that it was a lie and his brother had only a quarter of that army.
When the Magister ended to translate, Tyrion saw the Khal smirk, and turning to the Khalassar, started to shoot words, receiving the cheers of his people.
Suddenly, he heard drawing of swords, and shield locked. Looking behind, he saw that the few Lannister soldiers that had landed from the ships sent by his father were ready to fight the Dothraki should the Khal try something, and Amory Lorch, stepping forward, said, "If the savages don't bend we will make them do it."
"Put down your sword, Lorch, or you will get us all killed," said Tyrion, looking at him, before turning his attention back to the Khal, and the Dothraki who started to get a bit restless because of this move that the Lannister did.
"What in the Seven hells are you doing dwarf," came the voice of the Prince of Dorne.
"So, Khal Drogo? Allies or everyone on their way?" asked Tyrion, and the Magister translated immediately.
"Yes, but the moment the little man betrays us, we cut his balls and will gouge out his eyes."
And Tyrion nodded, hearing the Khal shout again words, and the Dothraki, rising their arakhs headed to the horses.
"Well, you are one lucky bastard," said Bronn, approaching, and Tyrion gives him a look, before turning to Lorch. "Sent a raven to Highgarden and inform my brother to send men to the prince pass. A lot of them."
With that, he started to follow the Dothraki as they ride out, leaving the destroyed town and ships behind.
Riverlands….
Brynden Tully POV
Brynden was standing in the great hall watching outside the great opening that was facing the river, thinking about the madness that had taken his nephew. Invading the North when the lion was at their doorsteps was madness, and especially marching through the neck where the Crannogmen were living. And an easy target of them.
But what made him more angry, was the fact that he left the kingdom without an heir, or to be honest there was one. One that Brynden hated.
"Uncle?" came the voice of his nice, Lysa from the door, and he moved away from the opening.
"What is it?"
"We need to talk," she said, heading towards the table, filing two goblets of wine from their lands, moving towards him, she offered the goblet, saying, "We both know that Edmure will never return from the North alive and neither the men that left with him. Therefore this land is without a king."
"And I'm sure now you will suggest, that as Regent of the throne, I crown your son Robin as King of the Riverlands," he replied, taking a sip, and moving away, laughing.
"Yes, because is the wisest thing to do," she said, following him. "When he will come of age, Robin will take back his rightful place. The throne of the Vale and-"
"Not with the armies of the Riverlands," he cut her off, before finishing the goblet and leaving the great hall without another word. He had more important things to do than listening to the plotting words of a madwoman.
Different POV
Walder was dining in the great hall, with his newly wife as a company, when he saw Lothar and Walder enter.
"So, what news from your bastard brothers? Is King Edmure Tully dead?"
"Not yet, father, but he lost five thousand men in the march from the Twins to Moat Cailin."
"And did they poison the soldiers?" asked Walder taking a piece of the delicious cake, savoring the sweet taste, but not as sweet as the honey of his little young wife, but that maybe soon he will need to find a new maiden.
"They didn't. But the Crannogmen did," Lothar said.
"Good. King Tywin is going to invade the Riverlands soon. Better if the bulk of the soldiers in the neck is already dead."
"Father. Brynden Tully-" started his bastard, Walder, but stopped at hearing the clash of swords and shouts outside the halls, and suddenly, Walder saw men with swords, all bloodied burst inside the hall.
"What is the meaning of this?" asked Walder, as his two sons draw off the swords, and saw an Old warrior with long grey hairs and bifurcated beard, step between them laughing.
"Well, well, well, it seems the old wrench of the Twins is still alive, eh?"
"Who are you who dare to enter in my castle without my permission," replied Walder, trying to recognize the old warrior but couldn't do it.
"It was long since we last saw, old man, but at that time you were young and healthy, and I only a little child," said, the old warrior, approaching, and when his sons tried to attack him, the old warrior beheaded them easily. He heard his young wife release a cream at the scene, as the man grinned, and continuing to approach. "But now it's no longer important who I was long time ago. Now I'm a member of the Hundred Lances, and I take this castle in the name of the King in the North, Jon Stark."
The old warrior said, and the last thing Walder felt was the cold blade touching his neck.
Taking the castle was easy, considering there were only 500 men, but now the question was how long they will have to hold it. She has only 2500 men, and the enemy could attack us from both sides considering there was the so-called pass of the King's road free.
Entering the great hall, while cleaning her sword, Laena said, "Hundreds of dead and some dozens of prisoners, mainly his daughters."
"Good. Sent a raven to Moat Caillin to inform the King that the Twins are ours and also with the battle reports," said Bors, as he cleans his face stained of the enemy's blood, before taking a sip.
"So, he is the one that you promised to kill long time ago?" she asked, sitting on one of the tables with crossed legs, and starting to clean herself, recalling the stories that Bors said.
"Yes. And now it's fulfilled. Who are you, girl?" he asked the girl that was sitting down, and silently sobbing. "Are you his daughter? His wife?"
"W-wife…"
'What a damn bastard,' murmured Laena, getting down from the table, and heading to the main table. And she saw that it was a pale, frail young woman, maybe of fifteen years, and she has long dark brown hairs.
"What is your name?"
"J-Joyeuse F-Frey," the girl replied, sniffling.
"Go," Bors said, and the girl immediately away.
"What do we do with them?" Laena asked, drinking some wine.
"Whatever we want, I would say," chuckled her old friend, pushing the body of the late lord from the great chair, and sitting on it. "Go and see our wounded and our dead, Laena."
In the North...
Somewhere in the neck…
Edmure Tully POV
It has been weeks since he left the Twins, and now they were only a few days away from Moat Cailin and the battle that will open them the way to Winterfell and where his sister is held captive.
He never expected this invasion to be an easy one, but loosing almost five thousand men before even reach the heart of the Kingdom, was madness.
These damn Crannogmen were one of the worst enemies to face, with their guerrilla attacks, and the poisoned weapons. Not to mention the fact that marching through these lands was the most difficult situation.
"I think we should go back, my King," said the young Brynden Blackwood, leaning on the table where the war map was laying, inside the tent of Command. "The more we march North the more the Crannogmen attack us, and we lose men."
"What it is, Boy? Are you afraid of a few lizardmen?" came the strong voice of Jonos Bracken, Lord of Stone Edge. "Are you a coward like your father?"
"We lost thousands of them, Lord Breaker. How many more we need to lose for you to understand that this invasion has failed."
"You haven't tasted the blood of battle yet, and already want to run away with your tail between your legs, Blackwood?"
"Enough!" shouted Edmure at seeing that his two lords were going to start a fight and he has better thing to do than to listen to the bickering of two lords.
"Now, back to the situation. What can we do to prevent these attacks?"
"There is nothing we can do, my king," replied young Blackwood, in a defeated way. "We are marching through a land that we don't know, but our enemy is the master."
"What do you think, Lord Bracken?" he asked the old man, and the one who was the most expert in war, despite not being the master of war.
"No turning back. Head straight to Moat Cailin without looking behind. Once the fortress has fallen everything south of the wall will be ours, and we will be able to break the Crannogmen, and receive help from the Riverlands."
Edmure looked at the map for a moment, before nodding, "We will march north, and increase the patch."
"My King-" Started the Blackwood, but stopped when they heard the commotion and shouts outside.
Everyone who was inside the tent of Command, went outside immediately, and Edumer saw his camp in flame and men running back and forth in panic, and others were trying to extinguish it with water from the near rivers.
"What in the seven hells is happening?" he shouted, looking around and trying to stop one of the men, as his Lords run away.
"The Old Gods are angry with us!" some men that were running, screamed.
"The men think that the Bloodmoon in the sky is a sign that the Old gods disapprove of this invasion," said young Blackwood.
"Maybe for you, it is that way, Brynden, but I was born under the light of the Seven," replied Edmure, looking up at the moon. "Now go and bring the men back to order."
Near White Harbour…
Sansa Stark POV
After a long and warm bath that allowed her to relax and warm her limbs after a long journey running away from the men of her half-brother, Sansa, was sitting by the fireplace, with a good mug of wine, and watching the dancing fire.
She couldn't believe the situation in which she found herself right now. From a Northern prince, and the true heir of House stark, to a running girl, fearing for her life because a usurper wants her dead, just like they killed her little brother. And she didn't even know what happened to her mother, having received no news from her in a long time. She was sure that her half-brother's whore killed her.
As she took another sip and squeezing the furs around herself, Sansa hears, "Finally I found you, sister." And she immediately got up, grabbing the fireplace poker.
"What are you doing here, Arya?" she asked with her heart that was beating fast. She couldn't believe that she didn't hear her half-sister enter.
Arya didn't respond, just started to approach her slowly, as pondering the best way to kill her, because that was the reason why she was here. To kill her.
"Did she sent you to kill me?" Sansa asked, but again she didn't receive a response. "Why are you on her side? She is not even a Stark."
"Neither are you."
"What are you babbling about. Eddard Stark is-"
"He is my father and his father, and Bran's father, but not yours," Arya said, leaving her stunned. She couldn't understand what her half-sister was referring to. "Your father is Edmure Tully, and you are a bastard."
"Lies. He is my uncle. He and mother-"
"Sleep together long before she meets my father. And she uses the help of a witch-wood to make him fall for her. And she is the one to have killed him."
"Lies. All lies," Sansa said, in denial, squeezing the fireplace poker. She couldn't believe that her mother would be able to do the things her sister accuses her. That is not what the Seven Gods teach. These were all lies spread by that Dornish whore of Ashara Dayne, who was jealous of her mother.
"Well, right now doesn't matter. I'm her take you back to Winterfell so that you can answer the crime you are charged off."
"What crimes?"
"Kidnaping the crown prince, leaving him in the woods to die, and the murder of Missandei," Arya said, stopping a few inches from her.
"I didn't kill Missandei. I-"
"No? Then maybe it was your lover," Arya said, grabbing the fireplace poker and hitting her on the face, nocking Sansa to the floor. "The reason why I don't kill you is that it is not me who should take your life, but someone else. However, if you think the journey back to Winterfell will be easy, you are wrong."
With those words, Arya hit her again, and everything went black, losing consciousness.
The Dreadfort…
Jon Stark and Daenerys Targaryen POV
Jon was heading to the room were Catelyn Tully was held, to see with his own eyes what happened to her. When Dany informed him that Catelyn Tully has changed, in the worst, he didn't believe it.
Upon entering, Jon saw that the curtains were close, the fire was dying, and the bed was empty in the darkness.
Closing the door behind him, Jon headed toward the window first, opening the curtains, letting the moonlight get in, before heading to the fireplace and throwing some logs inside, reviving the fire.
Suddenly, as he was watching the fire start to dance and listen to the cracking of the woods, he hears noise behind him, and getting up, turning around, he saw the second wife of his father crouching in a corner and squeezing her legs to the chest.
Approaching her slowly, and thanks to the moonlight, Jon finally saw. She was a mess. Bruise on her face and arms, the red hairs that in the past were braided and treated, now were in disorder.
"Do you recognize me, Lady Tully? Do you know who I am?" Jon asked, lowering himself, so that they were on the same level, knowing perfectly that it was a mistake because she could attack him at any moment.
But the woman in response was trembling and mumbling something, but without directly replied to him.
"All the deceptions, subterfuges and plots have brought you to ruin, and with you, your lineage is drowning," he said sighing, before grabbing her jaws, turning to him. "Your son is dead beyond the wall for sure, your daughter will die for the crime she is guilty of; your brother that is marching on Moat Cailin will soon re-join your ancestors in the afterlife after I destroy his army. So, tell me, lady Tully? Was it worth it?"
"You are just a bastard," she murmured. "A usurper traitorous bastard just like your whore mother that-"
At hearing her call his mother a whore, he grabbed her by the neck, before pinning her to the bed, "The only whore in here is you, Tully. You killed my father when he discovered that Sansa wasn't his daughter, and when he wanted to exile you away. I know you bewitched my father years ago with the potions from the wood-witch."
The woman was struggling to breath as he was squeezing her neck, and after a few little moments, he let her go, and Catelyn started to cough, and take long painful breaths.
"Enjoy your last days as a free woman, Lady Catelyn. Soon you are going to answer for the murder of my father, the King in the North, Eddard Stark, between the screams of your bastard daughter and your brother.
"May you be damned, bastard of a Dornish whore! You and all your lineage will write in the seven hells!" she screamed as he was leaving the room, behind, and with two Wolfsguard at the door.
When he was back to his room, Jon slammed the door behind him and leaning against it, sighing, and feeling his hand tremble because of the anger.
"Are you all right, my love?" came his wife's voice, approaching him. Turning around he went straight to her, wrapping his arms and hugging her tightly.
She said nothing, just hold him that way, tightly, as heard him cry silently, and his body trembling. She didn't know what had happened, but she wasn't going to push him if he wasn't ready to speak.
Letting her go, he looked down at her, for a moment, before resting his forehead to hers, "I saw her. Catelyn Tully. And because of the anger that was feeling, I almost lost control."
"It was normal considering how she treats you, and especially after finding out that she was slowly leading your father to his grave."
"When we will be back to Winterfell, she is going to die," he said, and she nodded, taking him by the hand and leading towards the bed, and under the furs, she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heart breath, and his breath, as he cares he silver-gold hairs.
Tonight, they will not fuck, they will not kiss, they will not kiss, they will not make love. They shall sleep in the comfort of each other's arms, cuddling, and hugging.
Next morning…
Jon moaned at the feeling of his wife's soft lips kissing his chest, as well as her teeth that were biting his skin, but when she brought the hand on his cock, his eyes snap open. And immediately pushed her on the back.
"You woke up the wolf, mother of dragon," he said, releasing a howl and starting to tickle Dany, making her giggle, before bending down to kiss her beautiful lips, in a tender way.
"I missed the sound of your laughs," he said, she smiled at him, caressing his cheek. "Now better if we get ready because the sun is-"
"No!" She said, pushing him on his back and climbing on him. "I want to ride you."
"Dany. As much as I would love this, they are waiting for us."
"Let them wait," she whispered, bending down to kiss him, as she moved her well pussy over his hard cock, in a sensual way, and arching her back. He, on the other hand, brought his hands on her beautiful butt, squeezing it, and making her release a moan.
"Jon…. mmmm.…" she moaned his name, bringing one hand between them and positioning his member at the entrance, before descending on it immediately.
Jon groans and his hands instantly find her hips. He drags her down, leaving little space between them as he thrusts upwards. His heels dig into the bed, dipping under the weight of him as she starts her tease that he can't help but yield to. His knuckles go bloodless, but he holds to her as she slowly rocks down over his cock, moaning with her head tilting back and lips parted to the ceiling. He loved the welcoming feeling of being inside his wife, so tight and warm.
Daenerys moves her hips, slowly, as she looked this time down at him with eyes full of lust and love. Bending down, she starts to kiss him slowly as he squeezes her thighs, hips and ass, biting her lips now and then.
He lets her keep this slow pace until he can't stand it. He pushes his heels into the bed and drives up, knocking her balance off pace just enough to roll them over. Daenerys growls and smiles now that was on top. His hands are wrapped around her body, and she feels him pulling her hips higher, feels his lips connect with the valley of her breasts as he drives his cock deeper and deeper.
Sweat beads up along the both of them, their skin is slick, and he draws the tip of his tongue up along her collarbone just to taste the salt there. Daenerys moans at the contact. Her arms are winding around him now, legs too, locking tight. He's trapped against her with his rocking hips stuttering now. He's lost with the feeling of heat and her heels digging into his back to urge him on.
Daenerys rolls her eyes, at the beautiful sensation of what she is feeling, and for the lovely words that he is whispering. Clashing his lips with her, silencing her moans, increasing the pace. He was thrusting in her like a wild wolf.
Suddenly the doors open and Shiera Seastar came inside, without even knocking "Your graces," and he immediately pulled out of Daenerys, muttering a 'Fuck!' because they didn't even reach their climax, and covering them both with the furs.
"How dare you enter with knocking and the permission!" he asked, hating that she interrupted them.
"We need to talk regarding a very important thing, my king," the woman said, smirking, as she looked between them.
"Well, if you need to talk with us, you could at least knock. Now, please go outside so we can change and speak," he said, and the woman smirking went outside the room.
"Dany? Are you alright?" he asked, at seeing her red and embarrassed.
Swallowing, she nodded and after glancing at the door once, got out of the bed, heading to pick her scattered clothes, that they throw away this night before getting to sleep, and starting to dress quickly.
Jon sighed, and got up too, dressing quickly. But before opening the door he gives his wife a long kiss, feeling her smile, before pushing him away.
"Let's get it over," she said, opening the door.
The woman entered, grinning at her, and eyeing her from top to bottom before Daenerys closed the door.
"Speak," her husband said, crossing his arms.
"As you may know the Dragonlords of Old Valyria used the blood magic for everything especially bond their dragons.
"I will not use blood magic," her husband said immediately, and she could feel the anger boiling in him, but Daenerys, placing her hand on his chest said, "We will use it. The blood magic. We will use it." Looking him in the eyes, but then turning to the sorceress, she added, "But it won't be the blood of the innocent. It will be the blood of the enemies."
The sorceress nodded, "But it needs to happen tonight."
"Why?" she asked, looking at her in confusion. She was expecting to happen once they were back at Winterfell and not here.
"Because tonight, it's the blood moon. The perfect moment for a ritual."
She glanced at her husband for a moment, waiting for his reaction on this regard and after making them wait for a few moments, he nodded, but approaching the woman he asked, "Tell me everything about the ritual."
The cold and dark night made the Dreadfort even more gloomy and dreadful. The torches that were used to light this dark fortress were losing their light. For every hour that he spent in this place full of death, it was as if he was going mad.
Everyone was gathered in front of the old Weirwood of the Dreadfort, waiting for the prisoners to be brought here and the ritual to begin. His wife, Daenerys, was standing next to him, a fur on her shoulders, and the hairs braided, with her little dragon in her arms. Robb and some of the Wolfsguard on their sides
His lords were standing behind them, and even if he couldn't see them, he could feel their judgment eyes on him, and how they disapprove of the ritual, as well as the burning of the Weirwood. But he didn't care what they think of him and let them use the excuse of madness. Anyway, they have no force to fight him even if they try to rebel against his methods of dealing with the enemy.
Refocusing on the ritual, Jon saw the sorceress make symbols on the ground, saying valyrian words that he couldn't understand despite his teacher being one from the ancient time when Valyria was still young, and that symbol was joining at the heart tree.
The only thing that truly worried him was the high prince they needed to pay for such power. Something that won't hit only them, but also their heirs and what will be the outcome of it.
He tried to persuade Daenerys' mind in this regard but failed. She reassured him that everything is going to be all right and that their children will rule over Westeros once the war for the Dawn will be won, and he accepted this.
When he hears a noise coming from the entrance, turning in that direction, Jon saw the prisoner lead towards the sorceress, in chains.
Once they were brought to their knees, the sorceress nodded to him, and Jon turned to his Wolfsguard and the men that were with them, who took their position in a shield wall, to prevent his lord and anyone of those who were present.
Pulling out his dagger, Jon approached Ramsey Bolton, trying to take a deep breath and prevent a burst of anger. Kneeling, he grabbed Bolton by the hairs, and making him title his head, with the dagger near the eye, he said, "A naked man has few secrets, Lord Bolton, but a flayed man has none."
With those words, Jon started to cut his face, slowly and could see that Bolton was using all his will to not scream, but still wailing with greeted teeth.
"Torturer. Flay them alive," Jon said, getting up, and the prisoners started to agitate, and scream and curse, as they were tied, dragged, and hanged on the Weirwood trees.
"Your Grace! This is madness!" shouted Umber trying to move forward, but Jon immediately stormed toward him.
"Madness?!" shouted Jon getting angry. "This is justice for men like him!"
"There is no honor in torturing a man!"
"Honor?! Where was the honor when they attacked my wife in the sacred Godswood before the Old Gods! Where was honor when he kidnapped her and kidnaped your sons and daughters?!"
The great Lord didn't respond, only stared at him, and after this little burst, turning to those who were present, Jon shouted, "Honor does not exist in this world!"
With that, he turned to the sorceress, nodding, and the woman resumed the ritual, as the torture started to skin them alive, with the enemy screaming in agony.
A few moments later…
The Bastard Boys of Bolton have all been skinned alive, and blood was streaming down on the symbol, and on the Weirwood.
Looking up, he saw that in the sky, there was still the Bloodmoon, and then suddenly, a fire light up, and the Weirwood was burning.
Behind him, the Lords of the North started to agitate because of this and then saw the sorceress approach, with a dagger, "Stretch your arms, my King and Queen."
And looking towards Dany, Jon stretched the arm and so did his wife, feeling a cut on his palm before their hands got joined, and the sorceress resumed to chant the valyrian words.
"Step into the fire, Mother of Dragon," he heard Shiera say and saw Daenerys pull the fur cloak down from her shoulder, moving towards the burning Weirwood, and entering in the fire with the dragon too.
He glanced for a moment at his lords, who have a mixed expression. Some were shocked by seeing her step into the fire and others weren't. He remembers being informed regarding the fact that she stepped out of a building in fire when Daario Naharis died, and with a living little dragon in her arms.
"Everything will be all right," Lord Aerys whispered, stepping next to him, as Jon was looking at the burning heart tree, with the fire high, that was turning dark the more and more.
However, before he could say something, a strong blow of wind hit the yard where the burning Weirwood was, and the few snowflakes that were covering the ground because of the summer snowing rose up in a whirl.
"Now it's your time, son of the Wolf," the sorceress said, and Jon hesitates for a moment. He fears that if he steps inside the fire would burn him, despite the snow whirlwinds. "Don't be afraid. The winds of winter will protect you from the fire."
Untying the cloak fur, and taking a long breath, feeling how the cold air was getting inside his limbs, Jon started to move forward till he reaches that whirl. He could se nothing through it, till he heard the roaring of a dragon, and his wife's warm hand on his bearded face.
When the whirl was starting to extinguish the fire and rise up, he saw his wife's naked body, and the little dragon flying above her, releasing noses.
"Now the ritual is over. You have all been bonded, and the dragon was bound to your line," Shiera said, coming to them, and he was confused.
Then, looking to the present, he saw the wildings kneeling in shock, and after this, the Nathen Lords did the same.
As he was looking at the skinned-burned Bolton's body, Lord Aerys brought a clock to cover his daughter and turning to the Lords, Jon said, "Go and rest, because tomorrow, at dawn, we will march on Moat Cailin to defeat the King of the Riverlands!"