Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.

Jon III

The it was still dark as they descended down from the skies as Dragonstone slowly came into view. It had taken almost two weeks of night flying over first the Shivering Sea and then the Narrow Sea to arrive with as much stealth as possible. They had made stops during the day on tiny rocky islets in the sea. Sometimes these stops were for longer than a night to allow time for Drogon to find food out to sea, bringing Jon something back to ensure both of them were fed. It felt strange to be taken care of by such a huge beast he could not communicate with in spoken language, although he did feel they had discovered an unspoken understanding of one another. Despite their normal communications, which was akin to his understanding of Ghost, Jon still had no idea how to control Drogon in the air. The dragon refused to listen to him while flying and made all of the decisions, which Jon found very uncomfortable. Which meant it was all the more urgent for him to find something to help him with controlling Drogon while they were in flight.

The coastline around them wasn't visible although Jon could make out the plentiful ships in the sea. They had avoided pretty much every boat until they arrived here, but it was almost as if there were a fleet of ships to greet them. Jon's stomach turned, he'd been enjoying himself and had hoped to sneak into Dragonstone and sneak out, but that looked more or less impossible now, especially if they had scorpions, although shooting those at night would be impossible. Drogon zigzagged through the air, keeping them in the clouds until he got to a part of the island which appeared to be hidden and dove right down and landed in a small area next to an entrance into the rock.

Jon had never been to this part of the island before, on his last visit he was fairly restricted and was only interested in mining dragonglass. He smiled wishing Arya was there with him as she loved exploring and this would have been something they would have enjoyed doing together, plus she would have been small and agile enough to fit into many of the crevices to see if there was anything worth finding.

Jon followed Drogon into the dark cave, where the dragon breath a small amount of fire towards the wall and lit up a couple of torches. He needed a lot of strength to remove one from the wall, it was as if nobody had touched it for a hundred years or more. "Where are we?" he whispered up to Drogon, who simply looked down into the darkness. "Ok boy, you lead the way." Drogon grunted almost as if he were offended and continued on into the darkness as Jon followed.

There was little to see other than dark walls, but Jon did realise this cave was easily large enough to take a dragon ten times the size of Drogon, and with it being lined with torches, he wondered if it was leading to something underneath the castle, somewhere large enough to house dragons, a dragon pit maybe he wondered, to which Drogon turned and looked at him curiously. "Is this where your home is?" he asked and Jon could have sworn there was a look of affection in the dragon's eyes. Then it occurred to Jon that in all likelihood, Drogon may have brought Dany here. "Is she here?" he asked, guilt suddenly washing over him, although he struggled to understand why he should feel too guilty as she was probably about to kill him herself.

They continued on until they arrived in a large room. Jon realised they must be deep down under the castle itself now. Although he had been able to tell they were slowly going underground, it was only now his ear started popping did his realise they must be quite deep. The ceiling was so high, he couldn't even see it. To prove a point, Drogon roared, a huge flame emitting from his mouth to the top of the room, but Jon still couldn't see the top. He gulped, Drogon was huge, but he was still only a baby in comparison to some of the dragons of old. Jon wondered how large some of the dragons from centuries gone by had grown to be such as Balerion the Black Dread, Vhagar and Meraxes. Balerion had lived to be two hundred years old, and it was said they never stopped growing. Jon looked at Drogon and gulped at the thought. The dragon had grown a staggering amount already since he first met him, which meant in comparison to those dragons, Drogon was small. This would be why the Targaryens had needed a pit like this to house them.

Jon walked around the edge of the room lighting the torches as he was satisfied there were no windows to alert anyone of their presence, otherwise he was sure Drogon wouldn't have roared out the flames like he did. As the room grew brighter, he saw steps leading up to a ledge or dais, he couldn't tell from where he stood. Jon looked up at Drogon who gave a nod of encouragement for him to climb them, lighting the torches along the way. As he got towards the top, he could smell something, faint but pungent, an odour he recognised well, death and it grew stronger the higher he climbed. Jon suddenly became weary of what he was about to find at the top, he just hoped it wasn't his worst fears.

On top of ledge he saw his worst fears. There lay the dead body of a woman. Deep into decay, mainly just a darkened skeleton. Her clothes were almost threadbare, probably from the maggots which had once fed on her body, but he could make out the leather dress she wore and the chain she wore across her body. Her long silver hair had grown even in death, was tattered and limp. Jon's stomach churned, the taste of acid burned in his throat and then he vomited. Jon continued to retch for a little while longer, until is stomach was completely empty. He wiped his mouth and beard and only then could he look again at the once beautiful woman who had died at his hands.

Jon walked over to her body and looked at her properly. He remembered how he had driven the knife into her belly as he kissed her, betraying her trust in the most violent of ways. It was the second time he had lost a woman he had cared for in his arms, her eyes looking back at him, hurt and betrayed. Those eyes were gone now, devoured by maggots no doubt. She couldn't see him as his tears rolled down his cheeks. Jon wasn't sure why it hurt so much, but it did, just like it had with Ygritte. It was then Jon knew what he had to do. He looked up at Drogon who stared back at him as awaiting his command. Jon stepped back away from Dany's body.

"I'm sorry my Queen." Jon whispered. "But I couldn't let you kill my friends and family. I couldn't let you destroy a Kingdom out of revenge. I thought you would be good, but you were no better than the others who went mad. A dragon should be a symbol of peace, not destruction and fear. Goodbye my Queen." he whispered before taking a deep breath. "Dracarys!" he said firmly as fire roared from Drogon's mouth, burning what was left of Daenerys and the creatures which had been feeding on her decaying corpse.

When Drogon finished, there was nothing left. In life Daenerys had been known as Daenerys the Unburnt, but in death the magic had left her body, now she was nothing more than a pile of ashes. Jon frowned, he was also unburnt after the experiment he did with the fire. He knew Targaryens weren't impervious to fire, there were numerous records of them burning to death, including the dragon riders. The doom of Valyria itself was a testament to the dragonlords being unable to withstand fire. First Dany was unburnt then he was, the only connection was Drogon. While his mother was alive, even before he hatched she was protected from fire. After she died and Drogon decided to bond with Jon, the protective fire magic now flowed through him.

Drogon brought Jon back from his thoughts with a wail, a son crying over his mother. Jon turned and patted him. "She's gone." he lowered his head and took a deep breath, he needed to get away from the dragon, allow him to breath and regain his composure. To find some clean water to remove the vile taste of sick from his mouth. "You stay here, I'm going to look around." he told Drogon, who seemingly understood.

Jon took a torch and spotted some steps which led to a small dark tunnel which led away from the enormous cavern they were in. knowing he had to be careful, Jon looked down the tunnel and saw there were no windows, although considering they were deep underground it shouldn't have been any surprise. He couldn't allow the torch to light up any windows as it would alert one of the ships to the presence of a human in the castle. Ironically, exploring in daylight was likely to be a safer option, but he needed to search everywhere and he didn't want to spend too long on Dragonstone, it was way too risky. Fortunately he did know his way around many parts of the castle and if the moon was bright enough, he should be able to get around in the dark, and would have no trouble by day. He had already made a mental list of places to search for any possible remains of books or clothes or anything which might help him in his quest for help him ride Drogon. Dany had only used a few of the rooms while she was on Dragonstone, he doubted she'd fully explored. He suspected the same of Stannis, although he would have expected him to at least try and find something of value.

Jon hadn't been searching long before he could see the end of the tunnel. It was lighter, but the skies outside were still fairly dark, although Jon estimated the sun was due to rise any time soon. He place the torch on the floor and went to investigate. He met with a flight of stairs and a window, to guide him. As he climbed he peeked out of the window, the sliver of orange along the east confirming the sun was indeed beginning to rise. Although this would make searching the castle easier, he would still have to be more careful and stay away from the windows. He wasn't sure if they'd been spotted the night before and if they had, there was a chance men might come ashore take them, and Jon wouldn't be able to get to Drogon in time. There was no way Jon was going to allow the last dragon to die alone, it was his responsibility to protect him. The only way was to leave, but Jon needed to first find the library.

Every castle normally contained a library. These were usually used by Maesters and Jon believed there was no reason to think Dragonstone was any different. The rooms known as the Maesters Quarters, were usually inhabited were at the top of the castle where they would also house the rookery. Jon climbed the tower, each step getting easier as the light began to shine through the windows, lighting up the gloomy castle. At the top he found what he was looking for, a room stacked full of so many books, he initially didn't know where to start.

Once Jon's eyes had accustomed to the room, which was dusty from lack of use, he went through the books. He was looking for the older ones, the ones which would contain information on dragons, written not by biased Maesters in the Citadel, but by those who rode them. If they weren't here, there might be records of where previous Targaryens had slept in the castle, maybe giving clues to any records they themselves may have kept. Jon didn't get very far when he found discovered a one of the bookcases housed a secret door. It took some effort to move it, but after a groan, it finally opened.

Inside was a room that looked like it hadn't been touched for over a hundred years, if not more. Maybe even as far back as Aegon the Conqueror himself. Jon's stomach flipped with excitement as he knew this was where he would find what he was looking for. In the middle was a desk carved from dragonglass, a mini version of the large table map of Westeros which inhabited what was known as the war room. Jon peered out of the window and noticed the outlook was internal to the castle and couldn't be seen from the shore, therefore it would be possible to light one of the candles. He searched around and found a tinderbox, although he wasn't sure whether it would still work after all of this time, but it did. He lit a candle and began to go through all of the books as quickly as possible.

Many of the books were written in High Valyrian, but they contained no Westerosi translation. He eventually found one written by Maester Gerardys which appeared to be the story of Aegon's Conquest in High Valyrian with a Westerosi translation, although the Westerosi language itself seemed old fashioned, however this gave him a start. He wondered which King, Queen, Prince or Princess the Maester had served. His questions were soon answered when he came across another book which looked similar, but was clearly where a child had been writing down their texts:

Brōzio ñuha iksis dārilaros Lucerys Velaryon. Iksan se tresy hen dārilaros Rhaenyra Targārien.

Jon swallowed. He didn't need to know how to read or write High Valyrian to know who Lucerys Velaryon was, he was the the son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, famous for the Dance of the Dragons. Jon dropped the book. He was touching history of famous Kings and Queens. These were stories of his childhood, but the people had seemed like just that, stories. To him they weren't real people, just songs. Now he was reading their own words in their own writing, they were as much real people as he was. Not only that, but these people were his family. Rhaenyra Targaryen was a great grandmother many times over. His heritage had never occurred to him other than the horror stories he'd heard about his father and grandfather. He'd never needed to know more. But he realised he needed to know it. He needed to discover his own identity and not just the one of being the rightful King of Westeros, because he wasn't, that right had been lost by conquest and he didn't see any reason to take it back. Bran ruled Westeros now and he knew his brother could be trusted to keep the realm safe. Jon's future lay elsewhere, but he needed to know his past first.

Jon gathered as many books which looked like they would be of some use as he could. He knew he was going to have to find a trunk to put them in as he wasn't going to be able to fly with them as they were. He returned to the Maester's Quarters to look for a box to use to carry them. Inside a large cubbyhole, he found something even more curious, it was what looked like a very large and odd looking saddle. It had handles at the front where ropes were tied to it. At the back was a net and some ropes, the purpose of which became clear as there was also a wooden trunk next to it. This was perfect for what Jon needed. He could use it to carry everything he needed on Drogons back.

It took several hours to get the saddle back to Drogon. In the meantime Jon had managed to find some food and an assortment of mens clothes, although he was sure they would be too big for him. They had been stored away very carefully but were still fragile. The quality of the clothes was far beyond anything he had ever worn, and they were clearly clothes for a Targaryen prince of King. At first he was unsure whether to take them, but decided it wasn't stealing, he was re-using them and that was their legacy to him.

The sun had already set by the time he eventually loaded Drogon up, who looked bemused by what he was being made to wear. He clearly wasn't happy about having to wear the seat, but he seemed to read Jon's mood and eventually settled down to allow Jon to climb up on his back and strap himself in. Drogon walked out of the cave with Jon on his back. From the beach, Jon could make out the ships had come closer to shore, suggesting they had witnessed his arrival. Jon had been practising what he was going to say to Drogon, he had read a command in one of the books and thought it would be the best option. All he had to do was replace the name of the destination he thought.

"Drogon, Sōvegon ilie naejot Valyria." (Drogon, fly straight to Valyria) Jon commanded in the bit of High Valyrian he had learned.

Drogon's wings flapped and he rose up into the sky. He circled Dragonstone once and turned south east, to take Jon to the home of his ancestors, that was until he saw ships on the horizon with what looked like scorpions, poised, ready to point at Drogon.

"Drogon, Sōvegon ilie naejot Winterfell." (Drogon, fly straight to Winterfell) he cried as Drogon circled and turned north, heading back they way they came, hoping it was the right command, or at least close enough for Drogon to understand it.

Despite me not being Dany's biggest fan, this was a very difficult chapter to write in parts, and it felt so sad and final. However I felt there needed to be closure on Dany's chapter and after seeing how Targaryen deaths were dealt with in HotD, then I felt this was the most fitting way to bring her story to a close.

For anyone who has seen HotD, the cavern is the room where Daemon sings to Vermithor.

I know the command to take him to Winterfell in High Valyrian is wrong, but it is meant to be because Jon didn't look it up. He just used the word Winterfell instead of Valyria.

If you like this story, please like, follow and/or review. It helps motivate me to get the chapters written and published quicker.

Mandzipop.