Hi, first i would like to thank you all for your kind words and support, it has meant so much to me, but there have been requests to post the link to the profile of the person plagiarizing father of dragons so that everyone who wants to report it can, so here it is: user/azazazei
i have also posted the link on There and back again, but as always thank you for your wonderful comments. However in the Jon pov chapter of this update there is gore, so you have been warned.
MELISANDRE
She stared into the flames of the great brazier and she could see him in the flames.
The hall of flames was filled with priests and priestesses of R´hollor all who were arguing with one another, and the flame of truth was still as silent as he had been after he had looked into the flame at her behest.
It was like the man had gone into many weeks of shock after seeing the truth in the flames, and he wasn't showing any signs of coming out of it soon.
So, Melisandre had taken it upon herself to call all the high-ranking priests and priestesses of the lord of light, and right now most of them had come, the only one she hadn't seen yet was Kinvara. Not that Melisandre was grieved that she wasn't there.
They had always butted heads and as far as Melisandre had heard, priestess Kinvara was one of the more fanatical followers of Daenerys Targaryen. Not that Melisandre herself was in much of a position to judge Kinvara for that, as Melisandre had been the very image of a fanatic when she believed Stannis to be the Azor Ahai.
However, she knew that if she would be fought by anyone when she claimed that the Targaryen girl wasn't the promised prince, it would be from Kinvara.
While most of the priests had been convinced that Jon or Aenar Targaryen was the true prince that was promised, there were still few that didn't believe what they saw in the fires and called it a trick. And there where even those who didn't want to admit that they had made a mistake in identifying the real prince and wanted to continue to say that it was Daenerys who was the savior, just to that they could save face in the public´s eyes.
Before the lord of light had taught her humility and Stannis had died, she would have called it a trick too and she would most likely have unwilling to see what the lord of light was trying to show her, but now she knew the truth that she had refused to see for so long.
She glanced at the High priest who was still staring into the fire, as quiet as he had been, ever since he had seen the truth.
Even when the doors were thrown open with a bang, the man didn't flinch or stir from the fires of the Red god. No, the man just kept on staring into the flames like he was in a trance.
Melisandre looked to the door and see could see Kinvara was making her way to the great brazier with the angriest look on her face, and she was almost as red as her robes as her face had turned so red in her anger.
"What in R´hollor´s name is going on here? Why have I been sent for High priest Benerro?" The woman demanded in her sultry voice. "I have been working my way into making contact with Azor Ahai reborn and helping to spread the message of truth that Daenerys Targaryen will save us all from the darkness." She finished smugly as she stared at Melisandre, and it was clear that Kinvara was enjoying the fact that Melisandre had been wrong about Stannis.
Moqorro, the black flame looked at the woman who had just arrived at Volantis, then he stepped forward with his white hair that flowed like the mane of a lion, glowing orange in the light of the great brazier. "We are the slaves of R'hollor and serve him, not ourselves and our pride."
The man´s deep voice made everyone stop their bickering and look at him. Moqorro was the only red priest that commanded as much respect as High priest Benerro did, and perhaps even more.
His words made Kinvara stare at him with her dark eyes burning. "Of course, Moqorro, but I was making my way into the confidence of Queen Daenerys, surely that is more important than anything else."
"It is not." Said the man and every person in the held their breath as he spoke. "The most important thing it to follow the will of the R´hollor."
"And I am," Kinvara insisted. "by supporting the true promised prince." When she said the word true, she glared at Melisandre.
"You are not." Melisandre said with confidence as she stood tall by the great brazier. "You are following the false prince."
"Lies," Her words made the other woman turn even redder as Melisandre spoke the truth to her. "you are lying, just because your precious Stannis died you are doing everything in your power to make sure that the real Azor Ahai doesn't get the support of the servants of the lord of light."
"You have seen the truth in the flames, haven´t you Kinvara?" Melisandre asked in a conversational tone, knowing that her calm demeanor was only serving to make Kinvara even angrier.
But Kinvara just shook her head at her. "The vision is one of your tricks, they may work on those with weak minds, but I will not be fooled by the likes of you."
"The flames cannot be tricked." The low voice of High priest Benerro carried over to them, for the first time in weeks. His voice was raspy with the lack of use, but there was no misunderstanding his words. "No one here was the power to fool the flames lit by our lord."
His statement was followed by a deafening silence as everyone stared at the man.
"He is right." Moqorro said as he nodded his agreement with the other man. "No one can fool the flames, no matter how powerful."
But Kinvara said nothing as she stared at the men in front of her. Then she shook her head once again. "You have seen the same thing as I have in the flames, you have seen Daenerys Targaryen purify nonbelievers by the thousands, she has woken dragons from stones, and she is the chosen one of R´hollor."
Melisandre smiled at her words. "The real prince is the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, of old Valyria and the first men, of fire and ice." Kinvara stared at her with such hate that Melisandre was sure that soon she would catch on fire.
"I can see what you are doing." She spat at Melisandre in her fury. "And you may have fooled them, but you cannot fool me so easily, I am a servant of the lord of light and will serve the prince that was promised."
"Kinvara," Moqorro thundered and slammed his iron staff into the floor, causing green flames to spit out of the mouth of the dragon head at the top. "You have looked into the flames and seen Aenar Targaryen with your own eyes in the flames, you have seen that he has also woken dragons from stone, he was brought back to life by the grace of R´hollor and he is the heir, it can only be him."
Melisandre could see that all attempts to reason with Kinvara were falling on deaf ears. "Daenerys Targaryen is the rightful Queen, and she is the prince that was promised," The woman looked at Melisandre again with her dark eyes. "I will not be fooled by your mummery or your new false prince."
With those words she turned to the other priests that had been listening. "I will be keeping faith with R´hollor and the real prince, Daenerys Targaryen," She glanced at Melisandre, Moqorro and the High priest. "and I will not be abandoning her when someone more convenient comes along, that I would be able to bend to my will and those of you who are in agreement with me, I encourage you to follow me and spread the word of the true Azor Ahai."
With those words the woman stormed out of the temple, but regretfully she wasn't alone, as some priests and priestesses followed her, but thankfully most of the servants of R´hollor stayed in the temple, deciding on following the lead of the High priest and Moqorro.
Moqorro turned to the High priest. "Benerro, we should not let them leave, at this moment we cannot afford a break in the faith."
Melisandre was in agreement with the large man, Aenar Targaryen needed their undivided support right now. But the High priest just shook his head at Moqorro´s words. "No, if R´hollor didn't convince Kinvara and the others, then it must be a part of his plan."
Melisandre and Moqorro looked at one another, they knew that this would end in trouble for everyone.
"Moqorro," The high priest said as he kept his eyes firmly on the flames of the great brazier. "You should leave for the Sunset Kingdoms, so that you may council Azor Ahai. He will need all the help he can get."
Moqorro nodded his head. "I will do as our lord commands and leave for the Sunset Kingdoms immediately."
As the large man turned around and started to walk out of the temple, Melisandre decided to hurry after him. "Moqorro, wait for a moment."
His dark eyes fixed themselves on her. "Melisandre, will you be coming with me to Westeros and help to guide the young King?"
But the priestess shook her head. "No, the prince has made it clear that I cannot return to Westeros after my crimes, but there are a few things that I think you need to know as you set sail west."
The man leaned on his iron staff. "Yes, you have met the prince, perhaps you have some insight that could aid me in my mission." He seemed almost eager to hear what she had to say, as did many of the priests around them, as they tried to be discreet in listening in on their conversation.
"Yes, I hope so." She knew that what she had to say wouldn't exactly make the man in front of her happy, and neither would the priests around her be happy with her words. "I must warn you that it would not be a good idea to try and convert Aenar Targaryen, he is of the old gods and holds to his believes firmly."
Moqorro frowned at her words as she continued. "And I would also try to discourage you from sacrificing those who do not believe in our lord to the flames, it will not end well for you if you go down that road."
One of the priests that had been listening as she talked to the man, snorted in his anger. "Then why bother with this Aenar Targaryen if he will not respect our believes and our traditions?" Melisandre could see that his words were resonating with some of the priests. "Perhaps Kinvara is right in believing that he is a false prince."
Melisandre now turned to the priest that had spoken, he was young and had clearly been given to the temple by a rich family, judging by his manner of speech. "I saw the body of Jon Snow when the traitors had murdered him, and I tried to resurrect him but failed. Then he was placed on the pyre by his faithful men and four stones were placed on the pyre with him, and as the smoke of the flames rose high and the flames colored the stars red and his cousin cried salty tears of grief, he rose again with his dragons."
During her speech she had started to walk closer to the man. "You saw this in the flames, and you know in your heart that no one can fabricate such a thing in the flames."
The man didn't say anything and only stared at her in silence, then she turned and addressed everyone in the temple as they had clearly stopped everything to listen what she had to say. "The lord of light brought back Azor Ahai when I could not, and it was R´hollor that chose him to lead us against the Great Other for a reason."
She turned to face Moqorro, for it was him that she knew that she had to convince, if he truly intended to sail west and help the King in the battle for the Dawn. "R´hollor chose a man of the old gods to be his champion for a reason, and it is not for us to question the will of the lord of light, only to follow."
Moqorro hummed in thought. "I will sail to the Sunset Kingdoms, and I will keep your council in mind when I met King Aenar Targaryen."
CERSEI
She watched her little boy play with his kittens on the floor with a large smile on his face, never comprehending the danger they were now in.
Cersei picked up a grape from the golden plate on the table and eat it, it was sweet and delicious, and pared well with the Arbor gold that she was drinking and the cheeses she had brought forward for her and her little boy to snack on.
The sound of a door opening and closing signaled that Qyburn had entered the room, most likely to tell her some news that he had heard. "My Queen." He gave her a deep bow in respect. "I have news."
She smiled at herself and stood up, making Qyburn follow her to the window so that her little lion cub couldn't overhear them. "What news?"
She had been waiting anxiously for news from the North ever since the rumors had started, but it had been difficult for Qyburn to gather much news of late much to her aggravation, and she was quickly running out of patience with how long it was taking him.
"It seems that the rumors are true, and Jon Targaryen indeed does have two larger dragons as well as his four smaller ones, and he is now moving south with an army and the two larger dragons." The man´s kindly face seemed to look fearful for a moment.
She glanced at her little boy who was playing happily with his kittens and she could feel fear swarm her veins. Tommen was the last of her children, both Joffrey and Myrcella had been murdered, Joffrey by her hateful little brother and that whore Sansa Stark, and Myrcella by those treacherous Sand snakes.
But she would have her revenge on them all, they had taken her golden children away from her, and for that they would pay dearly.
"Are the scorpions ready?" She asked him, she knew that they would need them against this Jon Targaryen and his dragons.
Every time she thought of that little bastard, she was filled with such burning anger that she had a hard time containing herself.
She should have been the one that Rhaegar had risked everything for by running away to marry, she should have been the one who´s beauty started wars, not that harlot Lyanna Stark, who had looked more like a little boy than a woman.
She, Cersei Lannister who was known to be the most beautiful woman in Westeros and was always referred to as the light of the West, had been worthy of becoming the lover and bride of the beautiful Dragon prince.
Lyanna Stark hadn´t been worthy and it had been proven when that whore had died after birthing her little whelp and dying in the process, while Cersei herself had given birth to three beautiful and perfect children and been just fine.
"We have built two scorpions; your grace and the men are in the process of mounting them on the walls of the Red Keep." The irritation only grew at his words.
"Only two? I would have thought that you had finished at least ten by now." She demanded harshly, the man had all the wealth of the West to help him in building those dragon killing weapons and he was telling her that they had only finished building two of them.
"Your grace, you have been very generous with your gold, but we are lacking craftsman to build them and many of the supplies we need, like iron and steel." His words caused her to frown.
"Then buy the things we need and hire more craftsmen." Why did she always have to tell every man that she met how to do their jobs? Why couldn't they just think?
"Your grace, there is nowhere we can by them from and we have hired all the craftsmen left in the city."
Cersei stared at the man in apprehension. "What on earth do you mean? Surely, we can buy them from somewhere and have them sent here, we have more than enough gold."
But the man shook his head. "No, your grace. We cannot, as the fleet of the Crownlands and the Northern fleet are blocking any access to the capital by sea, and we are locked in by the lords of the Stormlands and the Crownlands."
Cersei turned away from the man and looked out the window, out there was the ruin of the sept of Baelor, at first it had been a monument to her triumph, but now it was a reminder of the slipperiness of her enemies.
She had hoped that it would have killed that smirking whore Margaery Tyrell, and the rest of the family that was in King´s Landing, but by some cruel twist of fate, they had managed to escape justice and hide under the skirts of that Aegon brat, who Qyburn assured her was not the real son of Rhaegar and that weak Elia Martell.
"Then have supplies and men send from the West, surely the faithful bannermen of my late father have not abandoned us." She ordered Qyburn, with all the sternness of her late father.
"As you wish your grace, but I have to warn you, that it will be hard for the man to send any supplies as all the fighting men are in the Riverlands with your brother, and if this Aegon manages to move through the Stormlands, he will reach the capital long before Ser Jaime will reach us." Qyburn sounded genuinely uneasy when he said those words to her, Cersei had never heard the man uneasy before.
But at the very name of her twin, she could feel fury once again, she had sent him a letter begging him for help and she hadn´t even gotten a reply from him. Nothing for months, not a word, once again proving to her that you could never rely on a man to do anything.
"Then send letters to all the bannermen sworn to Casterly Rock and tell them that the lady of the Rock is ordering them to the capital, and they are to bring us all the supplies we need to build the scorpions." Cersei smirked to herself, with her father dead and Jaime sworn to the King´s guard, she was the heir to the West and the heir to her father.
She smiled to herself for her foresight at talking Jaime into the King´s guard. It had been a stroke of genius on her part, and now that he had said his vows, he was effectively removed from the line of succession to the Rock, making her the legitimate heir.
"As you command your grace. But there is more news for you to hear." She turned her back to the window and looked at her closest advisor. "It seems that Jon Targaryen has married his cousin Sansa Stark, and he has the complete support of all the North as he has taken Barrowton, from lady Dustin, and the support of the Vale."
Cersei stared at the small man, as she remembered the prophecy that Maggy the frog had told her when she had been a child, a younger and more beautiful Queen would come and take all that you hold dear. Was the younger and more beautiful Queen, Sansa Stark all along?
Had that little whore decided to marry her cousin and send him south to take her revenge on Cersei and kill her last living child in dragon fire?
Sansa Stark would never get her hands on her beautiful little babe, and neither would her husband. Cersei glanced at her beautiful little boy, who was nothing but kind and good, and she felt so much fear for him that she could hardly speak.
Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds.
Those words haunted her now even more than they had before.
But Qyburn´s words caused warning bells to ring in her head, Littlefinger was the lord protector of the Vale, and if the knights of the Vale had declared for this Northern bastard, it meant that Baelish had also betrayed her.
She clenched her cup so tight that her hand started to shake and with a scream she threw the cup out the window.
"HOW DARE HE, HOW DARE THAT WHOREMONGER BETREY ME AFTER ALL THAT I HAVE DONE FOR HIM?" She turned back to Qyburn as he stood there waiting for her orders. "I want Littlefinger dead, do you hear me? I want him dead."
"Your grace, Baelish has already been executed, by Jon Targaryen." Cersei stared at the man in surprise before letting out a loud laugh. So, the little Targaryen whelp was just as mad as his grandfather, executing the man who had brought him the Vale, this was the best news she had heard in a long time.
"So, what was his crime? Did Littlefinger stare at him for too long?" She asked Qyburn with a smirk as she walked back to the table and poured herself another cup of sweet Arbor wine.
"No, your grace, apparently he was found guilty of selling Sansa Stark to the Boltons and selling lord Eddard Stark to you, your grace." Cersei almost spat out the wine she had been sipping on and stared at the man with wide emerald eyes.
"So, it was Littlefinger who helped that harlot escape from the capital." Out of the corner of her eye she could see her little cub stare at her in fright, which made her feel even more annoyed than before, Tommen was too much like his father when he had been a child, and not enough like Cersei had been.
Jaime had always been the weak one out of the two of them.
She turned her emerald eyes to the man in front of her. "I want that whore Sansa Stark and her stupid husband dead; do you hear me?"
The man bowed. "Of course, your grace, it shall be done."
She started to make her way to her little golden cub, when suddenly they could hear yelling and shouting from the city.
The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and her closest advisor made their way to the window, and Cersei could see that there were the beginnings of another riot breaking out in front of the gate of the Red Keep.
"Another bread riot, your grace." Qyburn said in a disinterested tone. "That would be the third one this month."
She wanted nothing more than to slap him for his words, he was starting to get more and more on her nerves with each passing day, but he was very useful, so she kept him around, for now.
"Send out the guards to quash this one too, and make sure that they put the heads of those who instigated this riot, on the Red Keep´s walls to warn against this in the future." She commanded him as she walked back to her little cub, she hated it when the smallfolk started to make such noise, it was so tedious.
JON
As soon as they got to the castle doors, Jon vaulted of the horse and he made his way into the castle as his battle guard followed him like lost puppies, along with Ghost and Nymeria, who were looking around for any potential danger that might come their way.
He just hoped his plan would work.
All the guards of the castle had surrendered, making it easy for them to take it, and as he made his way through the eastern tower of the Twins, he could see that his men had already started to round up the occupants of castle.
Women and children were looking afraid but unharmed, as Jon had made it clear, that any man caught raping or harming innocents would be sent to the Wall, without exception. War was bad enough without adding such horrors on those who couldn't defend themselves.
The Flint of the mountain clans walked over leading a terrified Frey guards' man. "This one knows were the dungeons are and has volunteered to lead us there."
Jon had to fight the urge to shake his head, as the young man that the Flint was leading, didn't look like he had volunteered to do anything, but was just too terrified to refuse the big man gripping his arm.
Stark and Targaryen guards headed on before them to make sure that they wouldn't be ambushed by Freys that had decided to hide and kill them on the way to the dungeons to liberate the prisoners that Old Walder had kept in his dungeons for months now.
They made their way to the dark and damp dungeons, and Jon could hear the roars of the dragons above them, even all the way down here, and they could feel the castle shake whenever either dragon passed over the castle.
Jon and his men, walked slowly down the stairs that the young guard was leading them down, and he could hear the sounds of boots on damp stone and direwolf claws on stone, and Jon could feel the dread in his stomach build up with every step he took.
Ser Brynden had insisted on going down to the dungeons ahead of Jon as he didn't want him to come to any harm. And not for the first time Jon was sure that the man would be an excellent King´s guard.
He could hear Ghost and Nymeria pant from behind him as they walked even deeper into the bowels of the eastern tower of the Twins.
It felt like an eternity before they finally came to the dungeons and they could see long rows of iron barred doors and the only light and warmth came from two torches that were by the entrance of the dungeons.
But the smell was overwhelming, the dungeon smelled of shit and piss and of rotting meat, and Jon´s eyes started to water from the horrid odor that threatened to make him vomit.
"Is there anyone in here?" The Flint called out in a suspicious tone that echoed throughout the dank dungeon.
There was silence for a few seconds before a hoarse voice responded. "Aye, we are in here Torghen." Even though his voice was low and hoarse, Jon recognized Greatjon´s voice immediately, he had heard it before when the man had visited Winterfell, and he was not a man that one forgot easily, especially when one had a memory like Jon.
Jon hurried after the Flint to the cell where they had heard Greatjon´s voice come from. Jon had tried to prepare for what he would see they would find the hostages, but all the preparation would never be enough.
The once large and broad Greatjon Umber, was still as tall as Jon remembered him being, but the man had lost a lot of his muscle mass and his once fierce brown hair and beard was now in dirty grey tangles, and his ratty clothing hung on his skinny frame like curtains.
The heir to Newcastle and White Harbor had once been a fat man with a walrus like mustache, but like the Greatjon he had undergone a transformation that made him much harder to recognize, now he looked like someone had drained all the fat from his body and he had a grey beard that hung to his chest.
Jon could hear Nymeria let out a whine from behind him, as he stared at the two men in front of him in their cell.
Both men were chained up to the wall and as the guards came with more torches so that the dim dungeons could be lit up, Greatjon looked at Jon with wonder in his eyes. "Ned…is that you? I thought you were dead."
Jon was so surprised that he couldn't find any words to say. But Torghen Flint found a few words. "No, Greatjon, that is his nephew, King Jon Targaryen. He is lady Lyanna´s boy."
The man seemed bewildered at The Flint´s words. "Ned´s nephew? Lyanna´s boy?" The man seemed so surprised and weak from his treatment at the hands of the Freys that he couldn't even muster the energy to ask more questions.
Ser Wylis was also staring at Jon with shock in his eyes, but Jon turned to the guards and asked them to help them upstairs and find them a maester to look them over, but as the two men left they glanced at the cell in front of them and they looked like they wanted to say something as the guards lead them away.
Jon heard Nymeria let out another whine and he turned to look at her to see what the matter was, as the men started to investigate the other cells. Both direwolves were staring into the dark cell that directly in front of the one that Ser Wylis and Greatjon had been involuntarily occupying.
Cold horror slithered in his stomach as he reached out for a torch from one of the guards and slowly opened the cell door to see what was inside.
As he stepped into the cell and the fire of the torch lit up the small cell, Jon felt the bile rise up in his throat. At first, what he was seeing didn't really make much sense to him, it looked like a pile of dirty clothes that were covered in dirt and mud had been thrown into the cell, and there was some large animal that had been dug up from the ground as well only to be left to rot beside the clothes.
Suddenly he heard a buzz in his ears that blocked every other sound that tried to reach him as he slowly walked closer to the pile of rags on the ground. Nymeria went over to the large unknown animal on the ground and laid down by it, and stared mournfully at it, making Jon sure of what he was seeing.
Jon knelt by the clothing pile, and slowly he uncovered what was underneath it.
What stared back at him made him want to vomit, and he was sure that he would never get the image before him out of his mind.
What stared back at him was the dirty remains of his cousin´s body, complete with Greywind´s head attached to Robb´s shoulders, and Robb´s dirty rotten decapitated head staring blindly up to the ceiling.
Jon didn't know how long he knelt there in the cell, frozen and unable to move while staring at the remains of the man who had been his best friend as long as Jon could remember, when finally, the buzzing sound stopped and Ser Brynden´s voice broke though the haze of horror that had washed over him.
"Your grace." The older man stared at him with concerned eyes. "We need to go upstairs." The man´s voice was cracking with horror and grief as he took the torch from Jon, helped him up and turned him around and they walked together out of the cell.
"We need to find lord Edmure." Jon said in a low empty voice as he tried to keep the image out of his mind. He could hardly feel anything but cold emptiness as the older man lead him away from the desecrated remains of his brother, and he had to concentrate on not shaking as they made their way out of the cell.
The older man put his hand on his shoulder and turned him a little, and Jon could see a man of thirty years, who looked haggard and pale and his red hair was wild. This man looked just like Robb and Ser Brynden and couldn't be anyone but Edmure Tully.
It was almost too much for Jon to see Robb´s older look alike being led towards them.
"Uncle?" Lord Edmure seemed torn between happiness and devastation. "They have my son, Uncle Brynden. Please they have my son."
"It´s alright, we will find your son, Edmure." Ser Brynden said in a calming tone, then he turned to the guard that were flanking lord Edmure and giving the man worried glances. "Take my nephew out of here and place him in the care of a maester."
The two guards lead the protesting Edmure away, as he tried to insist that he was needed to help with the search of his son.
Ser Brynden turned back to Jon. "Your grace, you need to get some rest." Jon couldn't disagree with the man, but there were somethings he had to do before he could close his eyes.
"We need to get Robb and Greywind out of here." He managed to croak out as the horror and sadness threatened to overwhelm him. "We need to get them ready for the trip back to Winterfell and for burial."
The older man looked him straight in the eye. "Jon, you don't have to do everything for yourself, the silent sisters will take care of Robb and Greywind, meanwhile you need to rest, your people need you." The Blackfish squeezed his shoulder firmly. "Let the sisters do their job, they will prepare them for the journey North to Winterfell."
Jon could see the man´s logic, even though he felt that it was his duty to see to Robb and Greywind, the shock and exhaustion was starting to take its toll on him. "Alright, let the sisters ready them for the journey North, but I will stand vigil for them when the sisters are done."
That was the least Jon could do for his brother, after all the horror that had happened to him.