And we're back again!

This one took way longer than I care to admit. Far longer than the time between chapters would indicate. I'll elaborate on the reasons at the bottom of the page, since it's basically a spoiler.

We've reached what I consider the end of the first part of this story. Many threads are tied here, allowing me to shift my focus.

Warning: A lot of stuff happens, but I don't really wanna spoil anything this time. Brace yourselves!

40. Blood and Fire - Jon

My hand is on fire.

That had been his first thought when he looked at his blackened and smoking left hand. Jon found that everything he grasped seemed to slowly burn at his touch, and even leather gloves didn't last long. Kinvara's ritual had healed him of poison, but how?

He couldn't remember much, except the pain. His flesh searing open, as if thousands of lit fuses pierced his skin at the same time, his blood boiling from the inside. Pain so great, he had screamed and screamed until he finally passed out, seeking the comfort of his direwolf at Winterfell.

Arya's back! He hoped that hadn't been a dream, seeing the last Starks reunited in the godswood as his little sister cried on his fur. I love you too, he had tried to reply, yet all Ghost did was whine.

What about the rest of her words? That was the scary part. Arya had told him he was going to be a father. She seemed happy enough to be an aunt, but Jon didn't know the first thing about being a father. His only example was a man who had lied to his son for his entire life, who had left his wife ignorant and cruel, who had allowed that son to join criminals under the guise of protection, who...

Stop that, he told himself, he did the best he could. And what's done is done.

The mother must be Alys, since she was the only woman he had bedded during his stay at Winterfell. What am I going to do now? He couldn't let the woman raise a child alone. And a bastard, he thought bitterly.

I won't father a bastard, Jon promised himself several years ago, when Theon had taken him and Robb to a brothel. Then later, when his uncle Benjen had teased him during king Robert's visit. He knew firsthand how bastards were treated. And my experience wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. Ramsay was a bastard too.

Marrying Alys would be the honorable choice, alliances be damned. Maybe I could take two wives? Somehow, he doubted the proud Lannister woman would agree to that. She's more likely to try and kill Alys if she finds out.

No, I'll need to be careful with this information. Who can I trust?

His eyes drifted to the beautiful woman sleeping on top of him, her lips slightly parted, heavy breaths sending puffs of warm air over his scarred chest, her left arm draped possessively around his waist.

After the ritual, Yara seemed... different somehow. She had stayed by his side during the entire ordeal, holding his good hand to offer support and whispering words of comfort in his ear. The little he did remember had made him eternally grateful, but when he tried to hug her, his bad hand burned the back of her neck.

You'll need to be careful from now on, my Prince, High Priestess Kinvara said, a little too late, your left hand carries the soul of fire. Few can withstand the heat without being burned. Then she held onto the blackened hand to show that she was one of the few. If you wish to avoid harming others, wear this, and she covered the hand with a strange red glove bearing the sigil of their god. It was light as silk and felt cold at first contact, but after a moment it warmed up to a comfortable level. You're not the first to go through this ritual, Kinvara supplied when she saw his puzzled face.

He tried to apologise to Yara but the woman didn't seem to care, capturing him in a kiss so hungry, it left him breathless afterwards. You owe me now, bastard prince, she whispered into his mouth, leaning her forehead on his, and I intend to collect with interest. During the rest of the day, she didn't mention it again, as they went to examine the reason for their journey.

The massive horn was at least six feet long, gleaming black, banded with red gold and dark Valyrian Steel. It must have belonged to a huge dragon. Its smooth and shiny surface reflected everything in odd shapes, twisted and warped enough to look like a mummer's trick. The bands were covered by glyphs in such an ordered way that it must mean something. But what? He had no idea. Some of his blood was still smeared across it, the red mingling with the black.

Yara had it carried into the hold of the Black Wind, the thing was so heavy that they needed four strong men to lift it. High Priestess Kinvara followed them, clearly interested in learning more about the magical horn.

Jon was too tired to bother, longing for bed. All he did was search for Dark Sister, hoping the blade hadn't been stolen or lost in some way. Fortunately, one of the red soldiers was holding it nearby, almost waiting for him. He thanked the man and examined the slender sword. It had taken the brunt of that heavy axe attack, but it didn't seem bent or warped in any way. Valyrian Steel has its advantages. Satisfied, he sheathed it and made his way to Yara's cabin.

Opening the door to the captain's quarters, he was surprised to see her standing there waiting for him, naked as the day she was born. He could barely close the door behind him, before Yara stalked closer and started removing his clothes. I know how you're going to pay, she said, licking her lips as her hands fumbled on the laces of his breeches, I want an heir.

Jon stopped her hands in their tracks, and raised them over her head to pin her against the wall. Yara, I can't father a bastard, he said, trying to keep his eyes from staring at her naked body, squirming for freedom under his grip.

You could've fooled me, she said with a crooked grin on her face, How many times have you spilled inside me? Ten? Twenty? I've lost count. Remembering all those times, he felt his face grow warm and his manhood stiffen. He couldn't resist trailing his eyes down her frame, going over her perky nipples and landing on that sweet mound between her strong legs. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I made sure to drink moon tea, but now I won't.

She smiled, raising her legs to hook them around his waist. While he was distracted by the pressure, she leaned on her shoulders to use her body weight to push both of them away from the wall, making him fall flat on his back with her on top, straddling him.

She pinned his hands to the floor and leaned down, her nose almost touching his own, Besides, they won't be bastards once I legitimise them. I'm the Queen of the Iron Islands, in case you forgot. I can do what I want, and I want you to be the father of my children.

Jon felt a wild desire surging from her words and his mouth moved on its own, wrapping around her lips. Knowing what she wanted made him harder than he could remember, and it didn't take long until he lifted her and buried himself deep inside. Yara moaned loudly, gripping him with her arms and legs and pussy so tightly, he almost felt his own release coming after a single thrust, throbbing against her folds.

They stayed joined together like that for several heartbeats, his head resting on her breasts and her chin on the top of his head, their arms locked around each other in a tight hug, smashing their bodies into one. I'll give you what you want, he whispered on her skin.

When she heard that, her hips started moving. Slowly at first, but he lowered his hands to grab her firm ass, lifting her up and down on his length, moving faster and faster to meet his needs. Yes, give it to me, she said breathlessly, give it all to me...

His vision blurred and he turned her sideways, laying her on the floor to spread her even wider while he plunged deeper and deeper. Her hands and legs were hooked around him, almost afraid he might pull out at the last second. Feeling her so eager made him pump even faster, until he finally lost himself inside her, burying it as far as he could while she tightened and reached her own peak, shaking all over.

She hugged him close once more, keeping her spasms almost under control, seemingly unwilling to part with a single drop. They breathed on each other's necks for a long time, before going to bed and starting everything all over again. It was almost dawn when they became too exhausted to continue, the bed rumpled and stained with their sweat and pleasure.

Yara stirred awake, her wild brown hair making her head seem much bigger, as she turned her eyes on him, her chin resting on his biggest scar. "That was the longest night I've ever spent with anyone." She said, yawning. "How many times was it?"

Three? No, that was three times in bed. "Four, if you're counting by me. Your count should be a bit higher." He added, recalling her taste on his tongue.

She grinned. "See? That's why women are better. We don't need to wait so long between each time." Licking her lips, she closed her eyes. "I remember fucking a girl who could reach one peak right after another, shaking and shaking until she passed out. It was fun to watch, if not terribly satisfying."

Jon felt his lips curling into a smile. "And were you satisfied last night? Or do we need to try again?" He lowered his hand to rub her lower back and she snuggled closer, hooking her leg on his.

"Trust me, you're not leaving this bed until we reach King's Landing." She said, with the usual crooked grin plastered on her face. "I want you to fill me up before we get there."

"So you were serious about that? You really want to be a mother?" Jon asked, hoping his tone wasn't insulting. I suppose she could be a good mother. His only example of a mother was Lady Catelyn Stark, and the woman had been awful to him. He figured she must have been nice to her own children, but he wouldn't know much. At least Yara doesn't seem prejudiced against bastards.

Her expression shifted to something he couldn't quite recognise on her face. She seemed almost... Shy? That's new. "Well..." Her voice was low and hesitant, "To be honest... I've only started thinking about that after..." She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "After I met you." Her cheeks were flushed, and she seemed so innocent it was like someone else was wearing her face.

His mouth felt dry, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He wanted to say something, but no words escaped his open mouth.

Yara continued, "You're going to marry the lion bitch soon, and I know you well enough to understand that once you're married, you'd never betray her." There was a weak smile on her face, but her eyes seemed dull and lifeless. "This trip to King's Landing could be the last time we spend together, so I'd like to make it count."

Jon lay there gazing into her dark eyes for a long time, before he finally found his voice, "Marry me."

"Wh-What?" She pushed on his chest to rise to a sitting position, staring at him.

"I want you to marry me." It sounded even better on the second time. "That way, our kids wouldn't be bastards and we could be together whenever we want."

"But... But what about the lion bitch and the alliance?"

"I'll keep my promise. I just never promised to only take one wife." He was worried that Cersei might harm Alys, but Yara could take care of herself. If anyone should be careful, it's the Lannister. "And before you answer, there's something else you should know. I may have a bastard soon, by a northern lady."

"Gods, you really can't pull out, can you?" She asked, her voice dripping with humor. "How many women have you fucked, anyway?"

He felt his face growing warm as he replied, "Three, including you." And Dany makes four, but I never… She doesn't count.

"Well, that explains it…" Yara was shaking her head, a pitying look on her face. "You're practically a maid. It's a wonder you're so good with your tongue, since I've known many experienced lovers who couldn't do half of what you do." She narrowed her eyes and poked a finger on his chest. "We'll have to work on that. If you're to be my rock husband, I'll expect you to fuck a lot of women when we share our bed with them. And they can't all get pregnant."

Jon followed all that with his mouth half open, stunned by her words. "Rock husband? Does that mean…"

She smiled, moving to straddle him. "Yes, I'll marry you, my bastard prince. You can have as many salt wives as you want, but I'll be your one and only rock wife." They sealed the promise with a kiss, which led to yet another round of draining exercise. When he tried to pull out at the end, she held him close and whispered in his ear, "Not with me… Never with me."

The rest of the trip to King's Landing went by quickly, as the days blended into nights, spent mostly in bed with his captain. My future wife, he mused with a smile. Though he had been dreading his marriage to Cersei, at least his marriage to Yara should provide him some release. Jon would do his duty with the Lannister, but with the Greyjoy it could be... Fun.

Eventually, they reached Blackwater Bay. Looking up at the sky above the capital, he spotted two dragons flying high among the clouds. Drogon and Viserion, he recognised them instantly by their coloring, but where's Rhaegal?

"I'm not sure Euron's here yet." Yara said, almost reading his mind. "I see several of the Queen's ships docked at the harbor, but no Silence or any of his other ships."

"He doesn't need ships anymore, now that he has Rhaegal." Jon countered, his eyes still scanning the sky.

Theon walked closer. "It's odd, though... His fleet had so many ships, I wonder where he's keeping them."

"If he's really at Harrenhal, they could be near Saltpans, or even Maidenpool." The captain offered, shrugging. "Doesn't really matter. We just need Euron. Once he's down, we'll take control of his fleet."

They docked at the harbor and found a rather large party waiting for them. He spotted Dany easily enough, her silver hair making her stand out nearly anywhere. She was flanked by Ser Jorah Mormont and Missandei, with Tyrion and Davos a bit to the side. At least thirty Unsullied soldiers were standing guard, forming a tight circle around them to keep the gathering crowd at bay.

Once his feet were firmly planted on solid ground, Dany rushed to meet him, "The poison…" She said, her hands shooting to his face and turning him this way and that, clearly looking for something. "What happened? You look… good." Her voice trailed as her violet eyes lingered on his own, her hands still planted on his cheeks.

Jon felt his face warming up, unsure if the heat was coming from him or her. He grabbed both of her hands, lowering them. "It's a long story, but I'm fine now. We have more important-" Dany noticed his red glove and quickly removed it, "Wait!" He warned, trying to pull his blackened left hand away.

But she held on tightly, examining it with a curious expression on her face and showing no hint of pain. Suddenly, he remembered one of the titles he had heard Missandei announcing so long ago, when he had arrived on Dragonstone. The Unburnt… I suppose it makes sense that fire wouldn't bother her.

"I've never felt anything quite so…" Her voice trailed again, as she placed her right hand on his, interlacing their fingers. Steam was rising from their combined fist, and he noticed a bead of sweat falling from her temple. "This is the closest I've come to actually being burned. I've always wondered…"

Someone cleared their throat, and he turned to see Tyrion looking uncomfortable. "While this is indeed fascinating, what about the horn? Did you truly find it?"

"Aye." Jon nodded, taking his hand away from Dany's grasp and back into the glove. "Yara went down to the hold to get it."

Kinvara moved faster, her red robes swishing past. When she approached, Dany flashed her a smile. "You've saved my Prince, after having already saved us all during our first encounter with Euron Greyjoy. It seems we're in your debt, High Priestess."

"I was only following the Lord's will, Your Grace." The woman inclined her head, a wide smile on her face.

Dany raised a hand. "Be that as it may, I simply cannot ignore the fact that my family owes you a boon. Let it be known that House Targaryen can also be generous. Whatever you require shall be yours. If it's within my means, of course."

The woman's eyes shone red, matching the ruby glare on her choker. I have a bad feeling about this, he thought, before the words came tumbling from her mouth, "Well, there is one thing that would adequately display your gratitude… A Temple for the Lord of Light, where the Great Sept of Baelor once stood."

"Surely, you jest." Tyrion gave voice to everyone's thoughts.

The High Priestess smiled, looking down at him. "No, I speak truly. What better way to thank the Lord for all that he's done in service of House Targaryen?"

"There must be a way which doesn't involve forcing people to change their beliefs." Davos countered, his expression fierce. "I still remember what Melisandre did at Dragonstone with the statues of the Seven…"

"Tell me, Ser Davos, how often do your New Gods answer your prayers? Are you even sure they exist?" Kinvara asked, then continued without waiting for an answer, "Because the Lord of Light is real, and He always answers my prayers."

Ser Jorah cleared his throat. "What about the Old Gods? Why should they be ignored in favor of this Red God? Why not build a temple for all gods?" He's of the North too, Jon remembered. The man must have spent his entire life praying to weirwood trees, just like most people who lived above the Neck.

"I agree with the last bit." Jon added his voice to the conversation. "We shouldn't favor one god over others, nor should we force people to accept a foreign religion when they've lived their whole lives believing in something else."

To his surprise, Kinvara laughed out loud, the lilting sound drawing more attention from the onlookers. "How ironic that the Prince doesn't believe his own Promise…" She said between breaths. "This must be a test, of course. Nothing ever comes easy when faith is involved."

"Perhaps we should discuss this another time." Dany finally decided to end the discussion, just as Yara arrived with the horn, four muscled men carrying the massive prize between them. "There it is." She moved to inspect it closer. "These glyphs look familiar…"

The High Priestess composed herself and moved to stand beside the horn. "They're Valyrian in origin, though I'm unfamiliar with the dialect." She placed a hand over the largest band. "I've spent most of the voyage trying to decipher their meaning, to no avail. However, there are others within my order who hold a better grasp of ancient languages… If I send for them now, they should arrive within the month."

Dany turned back. "Missandei? Can you understand any of this?"

The handmaiden moved closer to her Queen, her golden eyes scanning the bands. "I think this," she pointed at the biggest glyph on the largest band, "looks like the symbol for dragon in three different dialects of High Valyrian, while this," she pointed at the glyph right next to it, "reminds me of the word for chain in four variants."

"Interesting…" Kinvara whispered, looking at Missandei as if seeing the woman for the first time.

Tyrion cleared his throat. "Regardless of their meaning, the horn must be sounded when Euron Greyjoy arrives on Rhaegal. That much is obvious. And we don't have the luxury of waiting too long."

"I noticed none of his ships were around." Yara said, casting her eyes across the length of the harbor, almost like she expected Euron's ships to appear out of thin air. "So the prick still hasn't shown his face?"

"Apparently, he wanted to wait until both his future queens were ready for him." Tyrion replied, shrugging. "But I made sure to advise Cersei to wait until you arrived with the horn. There's no reason to wait now. Your Grace?" He added, looking at Dany with raised eyebrows.

She nodded. "Fine. The sooner we deal with this, the better."

"Are you sure, my Queen?" Kinvara asked, briefly glancing at Missandei before looking back. "Perhaps with a few more days, we could uncover the meaning of those glyphs. It would be wiser if we had more knowledge before using such a powerful magical item."

"We know how the horn works. Mostly." Dany admitted, shaking her head and raising a hand to touch the massive band. "Besides, this city isn't getting any friendlier…" Her eyes scanned the crowd beyond the Unsullied line, and Jon followed her gaze. Among the curious faces, he spotted many angrier ones staring daggers at the group.

"I was meaning to ask about that." He voiced his thoughts. "Why are they so angry?"

"My sister has been spreading lies." Tyrion answered, raising his voice. He's probably hoping they'll hear. "Some people will believe anything." With a sigh, he lowered his tone. "All the more reason to hurry up, I suppose. I'll go inform them of your arrival." And he walked away briskly, taking a few Unsullied with him.

Yara clapped to draw attention. "So where do we put this thing?" She asked, nodding at the horn.

"The meeting will be held at the Dragonpit, but I'd still like to surprise Euron if possible." Dany frowned, seemingly thinking hard. "Is there a way we could cover it somehow? Or put it into a crate or something?"

It'd have to be a massive crate. "It might make it easier to carry…" Jon imagined putting it into a carriage of sorts.

"There's nothing like that on the Black Wind, but we could ask about the other ships." Yara shrugged. "Some of them are trading vessels, used to carry a bunch of stuff anyway, so they're bound to have something."

The Dragonpit was impressive. And not only by its incredible size, easily capable of housing several dragons like Drogon. Even after decades of neglect, the rounded structure still maintained a certain measure of integrity. Built atop the Hill of Rhaenys, on the northern part of King's Landing, it was uncomfortably close to Flea Bottom, the poorest part of the city.

An odd place to house dragons. The underground was filled with many cages and chains and dragon bones, but above ground was a large open area with stands set in a circular pattern, rising from the wide center at the bottom.

He briefly wondered what was the purpose of such a place. Did the ancient dragonriders put on mummeries? Something about that felt wrong, but he let it go. Currently crowded with people, the masses gathered on the stands were all hushed in anticipation. It was Cersei's idea. Despite their protests, his future wife had insisted on allowing everyone to witness Euron's downfall.

She's hoping the dragons will cause trouble, Tyrion had warned, looking at Dany with a pleading expression, So we can't play into her hands. The Queen nodded, agreeing to leave both Drogon and Viserion at a safe distance away from the crowd.

That was probably for the best, considering the dangerous weapons Cersei had set up around the upper parts of the Dragonpit. Four huge crossbows, each manned by three soldiers, with one working the aim while two others stood near the large spears used as bolts.

They're called scorpions, Lord Varys had informed them, based on an ancient Dornish design. Jon knew enough about history to remember how the dragon Meraxes had died, taking a scorpion bolt to the eye and bringing Rhaenys down to the sands near Hellholt in Dorne.

Arya loved that story, mostly for how Visenya and Aegon had reacted in their grief. They burned every Dornish castle, even turning some of the sand into glass. His little sister would pretend to be Vhagar, flying around everywhere and blowing raspberries with her mouth. Sometimes, she would convince him to join her as Balerion and he would comply, both of them running around Winterfell with their arms outstretched. At least until Lord Stark caught us.

Jon glanced to his left, finding Dany with a determined look on her face. She was garbed in a leather dress so dark, it seemed to draw all the light around her, a silver chain draped over her shoulder the only indication of royalty, since there was no crown on her braided hair. Over on the other side of the pit, a crowned Cersei Lannister had chosen a lighter color, with a pale red dress under a white cloak, offering a stark contrast between both queens.

One dark, one light.

Looking down at his own white fur cloak with red clasps, he knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Jon had yet to speak with his future wife, but it seemed she was already working to set them both apart from Dany in the eyes of the people. Tyrion had also mentioned a few new songs being sung at taverns, but Jon never cared much for gossip.

At Cersei's left side sat an older man in dark robes, who Tyrion had called Qyburn. His mirror image, as they're both Hands of Queens. The man had a chilling stare. His eyes weren't blue, but Jon couldn't help being reminded of White Walkers when those eyes lingered on him. Odd feeling, that. I don't even know the man.

Shaking his head, he turned to look at the hulking figure of Ser Gregor Clegane, fully clad in dark steel armor with silver details, only leaving two small openings for his eyes. Having faced heavily armored men in a fight before, Jon immediately tried to find a weakness to exploit. I suppose those eye slits are asking to be stabbed. He would still need to get close enough, and with that huge sword his reach might cause a problem.

Beyond those two, only guards stood at Cersei's side. The Lannister lion banner fluttered above them and a screech pierced the silence. Looking up, he spotted a green dragon making its way from the northwest, the rustling sound of beating wings growing louder and louder.

He heard a gasp and Dany's hand shot to hold his gloved one. Holding on, he tried to comfort her. "It's alright." Watching her pained expression, he whispered, "We'll get him back."

She only nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the approaching Rhaegal. The dragon wasn't as big as Drogon, but when he landed on the edge of the stands, a few people were crushed under his black claws. Everyone nearby started running for their lives, as he opened his mouth and let out a roar,

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWR

"Well, that was predictable…" Tyrion muttered, staring at Cersei, who seemed to be trying very hard to keep herself from laughing, with the way her lips twitched. "Let's hope that's the last of it."

"If I know my uncle, it won't be." Yara supplied darkly. She was sitting a bit to the side, next to the large crate they used to hide the horn. They had set it up in such a way that if the top was ever removed, all sides would fall, making it a simple enough process to blow on it later. Theon and three other men were standing nearby, ready for action.

By the time Euron had dismounted from Rhaegal's back, that entire side of the Dragonpit was deserted. Nevertheless, Jon was surprised to see that half of the original crowd still remained. They have more curiosity than sense. He also noticed the scorpions moving to take aim at the dragon, who didn't take flight again and kept close to Euron, almost protecting the pirate while his eyes scanned the place for threats.

When the eyes found Jon, they lingered a bit longer. There was something… familiar about Rhaegal. According to Bran, this was to be his mount once Euron was gone. And yet, all he could feel from looking into those bronze eyes was anger. He seems angry at the whole world. However, if what Dany said was true, rider and dragon share their emotions. Perhaps it's Euron who's angry.

Another man was being pushed ahead by Euron. He couldn't make it out from the distance, but Tyrion gasped. "Jaime…"

"So the rumors were true." Lord Varys nodded, unsurprised by this new arrival. "I didn't expect a madman to keep hostages, though Ser Jaime Lannister is no common hostage."

Dany narrowed her eyes. "Kingslayer…" Her grip became tighter, but he couldn't feel much pain on his gloved hand.

Or any pain. During the return trip, he had tried to test his bad hand and discovered that it was far stronger than before. Besides burning everything he touched without a glove, his left hand could crush hard rocks and even bend solid metals. Also, he found it was completely numb to everything he had tried. He couldn't feel needles, heat, or anything else. Almost as if it's dead.

Turning his attention back to the pit, he watched as Euron made his way towards the center, to stand between both sides. Rhaegal settled nearby, at the lowest stand, within reach of his rider. Now that they were closer, he recognised Ser Jaime's face. Jon had only seen the man several years ago, when King Robert had visited Winterfell, and there was quite a difference between the arrogant golden lion from his memories and what stood before him now.

The bright and long blond hair had become shorter and darker, his fine armor had been replaced by dirty grey rags, his handsome face was filled with cuts and bruises, and he walked with a limp when Euron pushed him. Finally, one of his hands was gone, leaving only a stump at the end of his right arm.

"So where's the Septon?" The pirate asked, his loud voice booming across the Dragonpit. As he looked at both Queens, his face broke into a grin. "I know you two must be wet and willing, but before I give you the sweetest memory of your lives, we must marry. For I'm a godly man."

Euron stood about half a head shorter than his hostage, with black hair and a dark beard. There was a patch covering his left eye, while the other was bright blue, matching the color of his lips. What does he eat? The man was dressed in a long dark coat with fringes on the sides, falling all the way to his boots. A short curved blade hung on the right side of his belt, while an axe was hanging on his left.

Cersei pursed her lips. "The Septon will be here shortly. In the meantime, now that you've seen we're both here, there's no need to keep my brother hostage anymore."

The man barked a laugh. "Yes, I'm sure you miss your beloved brother. Many sleepless nights in that cold empty bed, right? Here you go." He said, pushing Ser Jaime towards Cersei's side. "I don't need any incentive, now that I have my very own dragon. If you refuse anything I say, I'll just burn everyone alive." Turning to Dany, he inclined his head. "Thank you for that, my Queen."

If he could feel anything on his left hand, Jon was sure it would be in a great deal of pain, as she seemed to be squeezing it with all her might. Looking at her face, he could clearly see the fury she was struggling to contain, with her eyes narrowed, her jaws clenched and her nostrils flaring. This could turn ugly if it takes too long, he thought, hoping Drogon and Viserion were far enough.

"And we have another gift for you, nuncle." Yara's voice saved Dany from replying. "We're givers, you see. Even for pricks like you, who don't deserve it." She stood up, nodding to Theon and the others near the big crate.

Euron's smile widened. "A prick like mine deserves a Queen, niece. Or two of them, since it's too big for one alone to handle." As he spoke, Theon and the men moved to their positions, each holding on to a corner of the crate. "How about you? What manner of Queen are you, who takes orders from another?"

"A wise one." She replied, clapping once.

As the men lifted the top of the crate, the sides fell to reveal the massive dragonhorn, its black surface reflecting a twisted version of everyone around. Since Yara was nearer, Jon could see her reflection more clearly than the others. There's a hole in her chest.

The pirate's expression faltered slightly and he glanced at Rhaegal, who was close enough to devour the man. When he turned to look at them, the smug smile was back. "I see you've found my horn. Thank you for the wedding gift, niece. After the ceremony, I'll make sure you get what you deserve…" His blue eye took on a colder shine, making Jon instinctively reach for the hilt of Longclaw.

Yara didn't seem impressed, for she laughed loudly, using the horn as support. When she regained her composure, she said, "Actually, we're keeping the horn. Your gift is the lovely sound you'll hear when my brother blows it." At her words, Theon moved to stand in position.

They had debated for a long time about who would sound the horn. Jon knew Rhaegal would obey him no matter who sounded it, but he still didn't feel comfortable letting someone else do it for him. Who cares who blows it? Yara had said, I could do it myself, you know how great I am at that. He had chuckled at the way she could always turn a serious situation into something funny. That was why he was looking forward to their marriage. Eventually, Theon volunteered to do it, and since nobody had a good reason why he shouldn't, they had all agreed.

"Little Theon?" Euron seemed to think that was funny, as he bent over laughing, slapping his own thigh in mirth, before standing straight again, "I always knew you didn't have balls, girl, but I never thought you were such a coward…" Jon turned to glance at her, and by the crease on her brow he could tell the man's words had the desired effect. "My brother would be ashamed of what became of his daughter." The pirate finished, shaking his head, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You don't get to… You never…" Yara seemed incensed, seemingly unable to finish her sentences. "You killed him!" She shouted, finally managing to put one together. Her long legs moved quickly, and in a few seconds she was standing at Theon's side, pushing him out of the way.

"You don't have to prove anything…" Theon said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She brushed him off, a crooked grin on her face. "I know, little brother. I'm just protecting you, like I always do." Her hands grasped the mouthpiece of the horn and she looked at Euron again.

"Go ahead." The man said, shrugging. "But you'll be wasting your breath. The horn belongs to me, it doesn't matter who sounds it. I've bound it with blood magic." His eye was sparkling now, bright as a precious sapphire. "This is your last chance, girl. Give me back the horn right now, and I'll let you keep the Iron Islands. I've never cared for that useless pile of rocks anyway. You can even take your cockless brother with you, and I promise to leave the two of you alone." He raised one arm to point a finger at her. "But here's another promise: if you blow the horn… you will die."

Prepare to be surprised.

Yara's eyes found his, and he saw uncertainty behind her resolve. He nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. If Bran was right, I've already claimed the horn. If he's wrong… This place is about to become scalding hot. Now it was his turn to grip Dany's hand for comfort, as he kept his eyes fixed on Yara.

She nodded back, taking a long and deep breath to fill her lungs. Locking her lips to the horn, she blew out. The glyphs inscribed on the horn's band seemed to glow red hot, then white hot, until…

AWOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooo

A deafening wail split the air, making everyone around him double over in pain. Turning to his side, he saw that Dany seemed to take it worse, a trickle of blood seeping under the fingers she used to cover her ears. Across the pit, only the Mountain was still standing tall while the others lay squirming on the ground. At the center, Euron had also managed to remain standing, but his face was contorted in pain all the same.

Why wasn't I affected?

While the sound had been loud, it seemed almost pleasant to his ears. Like a strange new song. And that was definitely not the reaction everyone else had. As he tried to puzzle out the reason, his eyes passed over Rhaegal and realization dawned on him.

The horn doesn't harm its owner.

Jon was even starting to feel the dragon's heartbeat, much faster and stronger than his own,

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

Two hearts that beat as one, he remembered the song Mance Rayder had mentioned so long ago when the King-beyond-the-Wall saw him and Ygritte together. Thinking of his first love made his eyes seek Yara…

NO!

Running to her side, he took her into his arms and examined her appearance. Her cheeks were reddened and puffed out, nearly about to burst, her lips full of blisters, while her hands had been burned outright, black as ash. Her eyes were almost popping from their sockets, wide open and wildly searching for something.

When they found his, she held on to his cloak like a drowning woman. "F-Fire… I-Inside…" She croaked, puffs of smoke following her words, and her teeth and tongue were blackened too.

Kissed by fire.

"We'll find a maester, just hold on." Jon said, trying to ignore the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach as the memories came crashing down on him. A woman he loved, dying in his arms as he tried comfort her.

Not again… Please… Don't…

Her lips tried to form a grin, but she winced at the effort. "L-Lys..."

Maybe I'll take you there, once everything is quieter.

"I'll take you there." Jon forced himself to say, trying to keep the tears from falling. "We'll get married, and you can choose a woman to join our bed."

She smiled weakly, raising a burned hand to his cheek. "It… was… fun."

Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed down, until her grip on his cloak slackened and he felt her hand leaving his face. He grabbed it with his right hand before it fell, holding tightly. "Yara?" He asked, watching her body go limp. "Yara…?" He tried again, but there was no response. "Ya-"

Someone's hand on his shoulder made him look up. "She's gone, Jon." Theon said, tears streaming down his face. "She's…" The sound of howling laughter made them both turn around.

Who could find humor in this?

Euron Greyjoy was bent over, leaning on his knees to keep from falling, his loud cackling sending echoes across the entire Dragonpit, somehow making it seem like the entire crowd was laughing along with him. Jon handed Yara over to her brother and stood up, keeping his eyes fixed on the man shaking with mirth.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

"The stupid idiot actually did it…" Euron eventually said, breathing hard and wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. "I can't believe how easy it was… All it took was a small mention of dear old dead Balon, and she went berserk." He finally noticed Jon walking towards him. "The girl clearly had issues with her father, wouldn't you say?"

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

Jon ignored him, choosing to focus instead on Rhaegal, still perched on the lowest stand, a bit to Euron's right side. The dragon's bronze eyes fixed on him, and Jon realised that anger he had felt earlier didn't come from the pirate. Not at all.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

It's okay, boy… I feel it too.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

"Who the fuck are you, anyway?" Euron asked, his eye going from Jon to the dragon and back to Jon, fear peeking out on the blue orb as he finally understood what had happened. Raising his hands, the man tried to plead, "Wait-"

"Dracarys." The word left his lips with ease.

Fire heals all wounds, Kinvara had said. Let's see how well it works.

Rhaegal opened his jaws and the pirate was overwhelmed by a hot jet of billowing flames, yellow and orange giving way to red, as the heat became all-consuming in its hunger. Jon was standing only a few paces away, but the fire didn't bother him at all. Quite the opposite, it seemed to call to him, and he felt the urge to approach the burning man.

Euron was screaming in pain, the sound a sweet song to Jon's ears. Even the acrid smell of burning flesh didn't seem so bad in his nose, as he watched the pirate flailing his arms.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

That's not enough…

With that thought, he removed his glove and reached out to grab the man's blazing neck. The wild flailing stopped, and Euron's hands latched onto his blackened arm. Numb to everything, Jon simply squeezed and squeezed until…

CRACK!

The pirate's head became separated from his body, which fell down in a black heap, only the charred remains of his spine were still attached to the head Jon was holding up. Looking closer, what he could see of Euron's expression seemed fixed in a smile, a final mocking laughter from beyond the grave. Jon squeezed again and again, the blackened skull falling apart in his smoking hand, and soon enough there were only ashes in his palm.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

Why don't I feel better? He wondered, staring at the ashes.

A loud THUMP sent a jolt through his heart, and he immediately knew Rhaegal was in pain. Looking up, he saw a large scorpion bolt sticking out of his dragon's shoulder as the poor creature screeched in agony.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

His hands balled into fists and a guttural sound escaped his mouth. Walking quickly, he moved to Rhaegal's side and pulled the bolt out in a smooth motion. The dragon purred in a thankful way, but Jon's eyes were already scanning the upper part of the Dragonpit, looking for the one responsible for his pain.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

They're all responsible… All of them.

"Burn them all." He whispered into Rhaegal's ears, feeling the dragon agree with his decision.

BaDumBaDum BaDumBaDum

Spreading his great wings wide open, he took flight and headed towards the closest scorpion. With a WOOOOOSH, it was blown apart in a stream of fire, along with the soldiers manning it. As the upper stands were destroyed, heavy debris fell on the spectators who had remained to watch.

"Stop him!" Someone shouted behind him. Jon didn't care to find out who it was. His eyes were fixed on Rhaegal, the dragon managing to express their anger in a far more satisfying way than he ever could.

"The Green Death!"

"That beast will kill us all!"

"We need to leave, now!"

"Aegon!"

"Aegon!"

"Your Grace, he's not listening. Let's go!"

"Jon!"

He blinked, turning away from the carnage to stare at shining violet eyes. "…Dany?" She's never called me Jon before.

She was right next to him, her hands on his shoulders. "It's okay, just breathe… In and out." Her chest rose and fell in rhythm, almost as if showing him what to do. This is stupid, he thought, turning back towards Rhaegal.

Dany put her hands on his head and forced a twist. "No, look at me. Focus on my voice. Breathe." Jon sighed and did as he was told, taking a deep breath in and exhaling it out as slowly as possible. It helped clear his head a bit. She nodded. "Good. Now tell me: why are you angry?"

"Because…" He started, unable to look away from her eyes, "Rhaegal was-"

"Yes, I know why my child is angry." Dany interrupted him, shaking her head. "I asked about you. Why are you, Jon, angry?"

Because my dragon was shot?

Because killing Euron wasn't enough?

Because nothing will ever be enough…

I'll never see her again… Never listen to her laughter… Never feel her touch…

Never watch her become a mother to our children...

Yara…

"She's dead…" His voice felt distant, almost coming from someone else. It couldn't have been him. He couldn't have admitted that, because if he did… His vision blurred, everything within sight becoming almost too misty to make out.

"I'm sorry." Dany said softly, her brows knit in worry. "But it wasn't your fault."

Jon blinked, finally allowing the tears to escape his eyes, trickling down on her hands. "It was." He croaked weakly, remembering the moment Yara blew the horn, "She turned to look at me before… and I…" He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it remained there, making his voice thick, "I just nodded back at her like an idiot." Tasting the salted moisture on his lips, he knew more and more tears were falling now, but he didn't care anymore. I killed her. "I could've stopped it, I could've found a different way, I could've…"

His voice trailed and Dany hugged him, leading his head to her shoulder. Jon wept copiously, making a huge mess of her dress, until his strength failed to keep him upright. Dropping to his knees, he held on to her stomach for dear life, still crying like a mewling babe. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a mournful cry coming from his dragon.

Dany brushed his hair with her hands. "Rhaegal has calmed down now. He feels your pain." She lowered herself to cradle his head, and whispered in his ear, "You're not alone."

This was a challenge to write. I'd never realised how much I loved Yara until I wrote her death. However, that was partly why I needed to kill her off. She was so fun to write, I was considering changing the whole story just for her.

It's funny, though. I tend to write what I want to read, but I REALLY didn't want to read this chapter. That's why it took so long to write. I've been struggling with this one for almost two months. Hopefully, the next ones won't be so painful.

As a fair warning, I'm considering posting this on AO3. But I don't even have a profile there yet, so it might take a while. It's weird, because I visit that site far more often than this one. Their tags make it easier to find what you want to read. This site has better readability, though, with the dark mode and control of the font size. I wish there was a way to combine both...

07/08/2019