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Jon

They walk for weeks in the snow.

It seemed that the moment they left Winterfell, a new threat had taken hold. It wasn't a surprise considering the information they had been told, but with this in mind, it seemed that with each step they took, it was closer and closer to a more…permanent battle. Jon hadn't felt this much worry since he first witnessed the White Walkers.

He hadn't known then what would kill them. Discovering that dragonglass was a viable solution had been a game-changer, for all of them, but now they had this new creature…something he didn't quite understand and many of the others did not as well. But here they were…trying to figure it out again. All the way back to square one.

It was a constant basis of them moving, sitting down, and trying to figure out why might work against them, what properties that were in the world were available for them to use. However, it seemed that with each in mind that they had, he felt less and less confident. He wanted to believe that this could work but at the same time…his mind was always focused on that prophecy that Kinvara told them about.

That fucking everyone had told them about.

He was trying hard to not let it get to him. Many people – including Daenerys herself – said to not trust prophecies and to not put too much stock into it. Some never came true, some did. But with what his people were witnessing, the arrival of monsters that seemed almost undefeatable, and his former brother becoming this all-powerful being, it was hard for Jon to not think the prophecy was coming true.

However, he tried his hardest to listen to them. To push that out of his mind and think of the future. The best he could do is move forward and try and plan what they could for the nights to come. And that was what he had been doing with Greyworm, Rhaemon, Taevar, and the Dothraki. Constantly planning and moving and figuring out the best strategies for them to take on this army when they arrived.

At some point, they had decided to make a stop at the Vale, as Jon had received a letter from Sam not too long ago to meet him there. Robin Arryn was still Lord of the Vale down there and he knew that they needed their army to come along as well, so a conversation with him was a must. Meeting Sam there was just another part of the process.

It was the eve before they would arrive at the Vale, and the army was resting. Most were asleep in their tents, drinking or staying warm by the fire. It seemed the cold weather had started to seep in more and more lately, a telling sign of what was to come. Jon usually made rounds at night, making sure that everyone was safe, going from group to group.

He would usually start with the Dothraki, who stayed far off away from the rest of the people. After his fight with the Khal a while ago, they still looked to him as a leader and followed what he said. Something Jon had also been working on lately was his Dothraki – a little skill that Daenerys had been teaching him on the off time that they had together.

He approached one of the other Khal's that he trusted, Khal Moraq, looking around the encampment of bloodriders.

"Hash ei ki yer resting akka davra here?" he speaks quietly to him. He knew that the pronunciations were probably off, but he was at least trying. Moraq looks to him and nods, before nodding back towards the group in front of them.

"Kisha hash davra elat ha jin aena," he answers back before turning to him. "Your Dothraki…getting good," he comments.

Jon chuckles a bit and shrugs before clasping the man's shoulder. "Anha kis. Mithri chek." The man nods at him as Jon turns back around, heading back towards the rest of the army, hearing many of them start to light a fire behind him.

He makes his ways towards the Unsullied now, where most were either standing guard just in case there was some sort of sneak attack, and some were resting by the fire. Greyworm stood there as well, warming his hands up against the snow. Jon comes over to him and the young man looks up once he does.

"You all keeping warm?" he asks quietly.

"Hard to when it's always cold up here," Greyworm mutters.

"Yeah…you get used to it," Jon responds, taking a seat next to him. "I remember growing up I would always dream of going down south. Truth be told, I miss Valyria." Greyworm turns to look at him with a surprised expression and Jon nods. "Truthfully. I remember for a while I always wanted to be in the North but Valyria's become my home. I miss the warm weather that always seemed to be there and the people and the sea…it's where Daenerys and I built our kingdom, our family…I don't think I could have asked for a better place to call home."

Greyworm glances back at the fire, poking it with a stick to make the embers grow brighter. "Maybe someday we will get to see it."

"I'm sure Daenerys will give you a home there as well…she's always cared about you."

"Then why didn't she look for us for a long time?" Greyworm asks, his voice low. "She only came looking for me or the rest of our men when it suited her."

Jon sighs lightly. "Honestly…she didn't think you would want to see her." Greyworm looks at him incredulously and Jon only nods. "I speak the truth. Honestly. I've spoken to her about this so many times and there have been multiple answers. One was that she didn't want to drag you back into her mess that was going on. The second was that she wanted you to live your life and be happy. A third was that she didn't think you'd want to see her again after what happened to…"

His voice trails off, but both of them knew who he was referring to.

Greyworm turns and looks to the ground. "I do not blame Daenerys for the loss of Missandei…Cersei Lannister was a horrible woman and we should have expected less of her to do that…I understand why she did it though." He looks to the ground and swallows slightly, dropping the stick to the ground. "She and I…we wanted to make Naath a home after the war…at least visit together…I'm happy you and she have made a home there in Valyria…despite the past."

Jon feels his shoulders drop in slight surprise. That was the most emotion he had gotten out of the Unsullied leader since…probably since he had met him, honestly. He had known that Missandei and he had been close but he had never heard him open up about that before.

He quietly reaches out and clasps his shoulder, the same as he had done with Moraq earlier, except this one was tighter, more intent. "She was a great girl, from the time that I knew her."

There's a ghost of a smile that appears on Greyworm's face. "Yes…she was."

"She would be proud of you…and everything you've done." Jon gestures around the encampment. "I know that we've lost many of our fighters but you and your men stood strong and fought those monsters until the bitter end. We are still alive because of your bravery. We are thankful, and she would be too."

Greyworm doesn't respond to that for a moment, but nods his head and turns to look at Jon. "We serve the king and queen of Valyria. It's our duty."

Jon nods quietly and then stands. "Rest well. We have a long day tomorrow."

Greyworm turns back to the fire, only letting out one other nod before his eyes were focused on the flames once more. Jon turns back around and heads towards the rest of the camp, looking at some of the dragonriders as well as their army.

Their dragons had been found along the way, and most were on the outskirts of the Vale, resting in the field. Jonarys was near him, however, and as he went to greet the dragon, scratching him on the snout, he saw Taevar come to his side, with what seemed to be a letter in his hands.

"Taevar," he says calmly, turning to him. "Are you doing alright? Is everyone else alright? Where's Rhaemon? I tried to find him before coming out here." Jonarys lets out a huff as soon as Jon stops scratching him. The king rolls his eyes and continues to scratch the nozzle of his dragon. "Bloody baby, he is."

Taevar chuckles lightly. "If dragons are trained well enough by their masters, they turn out to be like that sometimes – very protective of their riders." He comes to his side, holding the letter closer to him. "My dragon was like that for a little while…he's been a bit distant ever since the battle, however."

Jon's brow furrows in concern. "What happened?"

"He was gashed across by one of those…ice dragons," Taevar mutters, shaking his head. "I swear to the gods, Jon…I have never experienced something as…ghastly as those. Or as any of those creatures. Tormund wasn't kidding when he said that everything seemed to just…come from nowhere."

Jon nods his head quietly, finally letting go of Jonarys before turning back to Taevar. "I still feel awful that you all had to go through that…I can't believe they're back and with more."

He feels his head drop slightly before seeing Taevar shrug a bit. "I mean…it's nothing we weren't prepared for at this point." Jon looks at him again, seeing Taevar glancing back at the camp behind them. "Each day up near the North, we trained for hours and hours to try and prepare ourselves for something. We didn't know what we were truly facing but the least we could do is try. And try we did."

Jon turns fully to him, letting Jonarys go off and fly back towards his brothers and sisters. "I have to thank you for sticking by me, Taevar. You must miss your wife and son…has she had her baby yet?"

Taevar smiles lightly and nods. "She did, your grace…a little girl. I received a letter not too long ago. She didn't want to name her without me."

"That's amazing, Taevar…I promise you will be able to meet her," Jon swears. "You'll be reunited with some soon enough."

Taevar sighs a bit and nods. "I can only hope. At least they are safe there." He holds up the letter. "Speaking of home, we have actually received another letter from Davos." He hands it to Jon and he quickly opens it. Davos had been on his mind much more lately since he hadn't shown up with the rest of them when they arrived at Winterfell. He tears it open and his eyes proceed along with the words.

'Jon,

How are you, my boy? I hope this letter finds you well. My family has arrived safely in Valyria – you should have seen their faces when they got there. My wife said it was the most beautiful place in the world.

I made my way across the Narrow Sea, but my ship was wrecked along the way by high tides – that's why no one saw me for so long. I actually have made my way to Dorne – they've welcomed me with open arms when I told them I am with you and your beloved.

Word of me arriving spread, so I'm going to be moving soon with the Dornish army. I assume that we are going to be meeting with you and your armies at some point – we only await your word.

I am alive and safe – somehow. I hope this letter reaches the army. I instructed them to follow Taevar's sent – had one of his socks on board, for some reason. Let us know what you want as soon as you can.

-Ser Davos.'

"Thank the gods," he mutters.

"He's okay?" Taevar asks, brow raised. "How did he make it?"

"Shipwrecked…but washed up on Dorne, apparently. They are treating him well." Jon folds up the letter and raises an eyebrow at Taevar. "He said you apparently left a sock on one of the ships?" He sees the older man's cheeks turn a dark red. Jon raises an eyebrow. "Taevar…why was one of your socks on the ship?"

"Uh, no idea," he mutters before rubbing the back of his neck. "Probably from a fishing trip of some sort."

Jon stares at him, a slight smirk coming over his cheeks. He could tell the man was lying – he had a feeling it had something to do with his wife and sneaking off away together for a little bit – but he wouldn't question it now. Instead, Jon chuckles and places the letter back into his pocket, shaking his head. "Alright then…I'll see you tomorrow. Rest easy."

Taevar nods and bows his head before heading back towards the camps. Jon sighs and walks back as well, although taking a shorter route to where the wildings were resting. Although as soon as he comes to their spot, one of them tells him that Tormund was actually sleeping early – he had gone on a hunt earlier for them.

Jon didn't blame him. The wildling had been stressing more and more lately with what he had seen. He had heard from a wilding girl – Val, if he could remember her name – that Tormund was actually having nightmares now. Tormund Giantsbane, of all people, having nightmares, out of everyone.

If he was having night terrors, he would only imagine who else was falling victim to them.

So, he bid them goodnight and headed to where his family's tents were. His daughters shared one altogether, and then his sons shared another. Both he and Daenerys had decided that it had come to that part in their lives where they were better off living separated than together as long as they could have that.

He gently holds the flap of the boy's tent first. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, we're good."

Jon opens the flap and sees the two boys sitting on their cots. Daemon seemed to be reading a book while Zaevar was practicing his fire in his hands, creating a small flame. The moment he sees Jon, he blows it out and turns to him. "Sorry. I want to make sure it's the best that it can be for the upcoming wars against the wights."

Daemon rolls his eyes. "You're already an expert at this point. Use that fire over here to make my reading easier."

"I'm not your book light."

Jon chuckles lightly and comes to Zaevar's side. "I'm sorry that you have to worry about something like this."

Zaevar shrugs. "It's sort of what we signed up for when we agreed to be your children. We wouldn't want it any other way though."

Jon smiles before hugging the boy's side. "You two are good for bed? We have a long day tomorrow."

The two boy's nod before Daemon closes the book he had been reading. "I was just trying to learn about this place more. The Vale always seemed kind of pointless to me in regards to the North but turns out they have a really good army."

Jon nods, coming over to him this time. "They do indeed. Sansa actually brought the Vale to our armies in the Battle of the Bastards…one of the few good times she was really helpful to me." He glances at the flap of the tent. He had been thinking about his former sister a lot more lately. She had been locked in a cage in their camp, away from anyone she could persuade to do her bidding for her.

It was better this way. He and Daenerys still hadn't figured out what to do with her. He couldn't trust her, that was for sure, but a part of him didn't want to kill her either. His Stark side started to show more and more lately and he hated it. But he knew it was a part of him.

Daemon nudges his side, bringing him back from his thoughts. "Just because someone helps in the past doesn't mean they're perfectly good," Daemon points out quietly. "They have to continue to earn it."

Jon smiles at his son's words. "You've grown wiser, my son."

"Oh place," Zaevar snorts. "He's only quoting what's in those bloody books of his. He's just upset that he can't do this as his strength." And then Zaevar lights his hands on fire seamlessly.

Daemon glares at him before raising his hand and suddenly making Zaevar's arm bend backward. The young boy cries out in pain before glaring back at Daemon. Jon puts his son's hand down. "Stop it," he commands, causing the two boys to roll their eyes and look away. "Brains and brawns don't compete over each other. They work together like the wheel of a carriage – one can't exist without the other. Now say you're sorry."

They roll their eyes once more before simultaneously saying "I'm sorry."

Jon stands and nods. "Good. Now, I don't want to see any tents set on fire. You hear me?"

"Yes, father."

Jon chuckles a bit at their monotone response before embracing both of them. "Goodnight, you two."

They say goodnight to him back as he lets go, and leaves the two boys alone, shutting the flap. He was never really concerned about boys fighting – he and Robb had done it all the time in their youth. He was more concerned about them burning down the camp. But he knew they were smarter than that.

He turns his head now instead to the girls' tent, where he could hear Mae and Dan whispering to each other. He repeats the same phrase from before, "May I come in?"

But instead of a response, he gets the flap torn open and narrowed eyes. It was Dan. "What do you want?" He could hear Mae giggling from behind. Jon raises his brow and feels himself snicker at their antics.

"What are you two up to?" he asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

"Bring him in, it's alright if he sees it," he hears Mae say. Dan rolls her eyes and moves away from the flap, before allowing him inside. He takes a step in and looks around – Nesara was asleep on her cot, clearly completely unconscious – she had been playing all day with one of the wildling girls so he could understand why she was exhausted.

But on the ground, Jon could see that there was a dress laid out, one that was a beautiful shade of gray and white with specks of blue silk along the edge, and intricate designs on the sleeves. He raises an eyebrow as he comes over to where Mae was kneeling, a smile on her face. "What is this? A new dress?"

"We wanted mother to have something that represented House Arryn when she meets with Robin tomorrow and his advisors. We know it's basically a shoo-in that he follows with the North but we might as well cater to him."

"I helped with…some of it," Dan mutters.

Jon feels himself laugh. He knew Dan had never learned to sew for a long time because they had lived out in the wild. Mae had been steadily teaching her basics just in case she needed it while she was out on her own. "Do you think mother will like it?" Mae asks him, turning her head to glance his way.

"I think she'll love it," Jon answers, squeezing her side. "It's beautiful. You're a master at your craft, Mae."

The young girl smiles as Dan comes to her side. "Did you know that Mae was actually the one who gave you all those dresses the first day you guys were there?"

Jon's brow raises. He remembered in the briefest of memories that box that Daenerys had found outside the front of the home they had resided in. It was right before they had met Mae and her other siblings. "That was you?"

He sees the girl's cheeks turn red, but she nods with a confident smile. "I knew from the moment you and mother came in you two were meant to lead…I found dresses that I made that could have fit her and packed them up…I didn't want to be known yet, though. My old parents were still in power. If they had found out I did that…it wouldn't have been pretty."

Dan rubs her sister's back gently, showing her the support that she needed. Jon takes the girl's hand in his, holding it close. "Thank you for that. Your mother loved those dresses…I think one day if you wanted, you could make dresses for probably some of the richest people in the world."

Mae's eyes widen at him. "Really? You think I'm that good?"

"Yes. With the finest silks and jewels…you can maybe even make Dan here wear a few."

"Let's not push it, father."

Jon snorts and snickers, seeing Dan's playful glare sent his way. "Alright, alright…is the dress done? I can bring it to her if you want." Mae nods and folds it up gently, handing it to Jon in his hands. "You two get to bed. You need to be awake for tomorrow…a lot of meetings are going to be happening"

The two girls nod once more and stand, heading over to their cots. "Goodnight, father," both of them say to him as he goes to the flap, blowing out the candles as he did.

"Goodnight to you too," he whispers before closing it behind him, leaving them alone. He lets out a sigh of peace before heading towards his wife's tent, finally. Their tent. Arya and Gendry were no doubt asleep after training all day, so he wouldn't bother them.

As he walked over, he could see both Ghost and Ari sleeping on the outside of it. Ghost gently lifts his head as Jon walks to his side, and he pets the direwolf on the head, giving him a good scratch before heading in. He had been thinking a lot about his direwolf. One of the few things that still connected him to his past life. He didn't want to get rid of him – he was a part of Jon. But at the same time, he was terrified of what might happen in the wars to come.

He still remembered to this day how Ghost had charged into the Battle of Winterfell. It had nearly scared the living shit out of Jon. He didn't know how much he would want that to happen again. He only hoped that somehow, he'd find somewhere safe for both Ghost and the little one – Dan loved her direwolf as well. He wasn't about to let his little girl lose her.

As he walks in, he feels himself smile. The candles were still on but barely lit, only a light dim that made the walls of the tent glow. He could see in the cradle in the corner that Robb was asleep – he had been sleeping through the night much easier now since they had been on the road, ironically. Maybe being in Winterfell had caused him stress.

Daenerys herself was sleeping on their cot, eyes closed, hair spread out and braidless. She looked like an angel when she slept, truly, like some ethereal goddess. He didn't know how he was blessed with such a beautiful woman to be his wife.

He takes a seat gently at the end, and it seems that small little movement stirred his wife. Her eyes open slightly and when she spots him, she smiles sleepily. "There you are," she whispers, leaning up to where he sat.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he murmurs.

"Oh, no it's fine," she responds, looking at what he had in his hands. "What is that? A new dress?"

Jon nods and hands it gently to her. "Mae and Dan made it – well, mainly Mae but Dan 'helped,'" he states, putting the word in air quotes, causing her to chuckle. "She said they wanted to make you a dress that would match House Arryn's colors – cater to them, as Mae said."

Daenerys shakes her head as she holds it up. "Already thinking like rulers." She smiles as she looks at the dress, admiring the details along the sleeves, running her hands at the fabric. "This is stunning…they must have been working on this in secret. Stole some material from the Dothraki women."

"Want to know something interesting?" he asks her, to which she nods. "Mae actually made those dresses for you when we first arrived." Recognition and realization show in her expression and Jon only nods. "I heard it from her myself."

"I can't believe she did that," Daenerys murmurs before lowering the dress to the little table they had next to the cot. "Our children…"

He sees tears appear in her eyes and he wraps an arm around her gently, her head resting against his shoulder. "What's wrong?" he asks, concern spreading in his voice.

Daenerys shakes her head and then turns her eyes to look back at him, wiping the stray tear that escapes her eyes. "It's nothing…I'm not upset." She moves away and looks over at Robb's cot. "I'm just so thankful…for the children that we have and the family we've made." She turns her head back to him. "I grew up without a family for so long…only with Viserys as my brother and even then, he didn't quite feel the same later on. I wanted to have one so badly and thought I would never get the chance ever again…but then you came into my life. I never could have had it with anyone else. You saved me."

Jon feels his heart warm at that. "Stop saying like I'm the savior in this – I know I was brought back from the dead to be with you. You saved me."

She smiles at his words and leans up, pressing her lips to his in a gentle peck. When she pulls away, her hand covers his own that had begun to rest on her thigh. "We saved each other," she compromises. And to that, he could agree. She squeezes his hand and nods outside. "Are you nervous about tomorrow? With Sam?"

Jon feels himself sigh before nodding slightly. "A bit…I know it's not like we're really…equal anymore. I'm the king of a nation and he's, well…Sam. But he was still my friend…for a long time I thought he betrayed my trust but…I don't know." He turns to look at her. "What about you? You're the one who…well, you know. I stand by what you did but I want to know how you're feeling."

He sees his wife glance at the ground before she shrugs her shoulders. "Not much, really. The only issue I have with Sam is how quickly he told you about his true parentage…but you're here with me now. That's all that matters." She leans up more and takes a glance over at the map they had spread out on the table. "However…if you do make amends, he might have information on Bran that we do not know about. He might be of use to us."

"I wonder if he'll have Gilly and little Sam with him," Jon ponders, looking to Dany. "I believe in the letter he said he would but I'm not entirely sure now with what has been happening."

Daenerys comes over to his side once more. "If he does, we'll make sure she and her son are protected. Just as much as we would any mother and child."

Jon raises an eyebrow at her. "You really hold no resentment towards him for what has happened?"

Daenerys shakes her head. "No. We all did things in the past that weren't too pleasant…we are all different people now in a world that is going to be surrounded by darkness if we don't work together. We can't let past prejudices put us aside. It's either all of us or none of us."

"That reminds me," Jon states, pulling out the letter from Davos before handing it into her hands. "This came from Davos. He is safe."

A look of joy appears on her face as she takes the letter into her hands, quickly reading over it. "Dorne," she mutters before looking back at him. "This is good. That way once all the kingdoms come to Casterly Rock, we can see him again." She lowers the letter and lets out a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad he is safe. I was worried about his family as well as himself…that's at least one person we know that is alright."

Jon knew who she was talking about. They still hadn't seen any signs of Yara. A part of Jon thought deep down she might be gone, but he wanted to hold out hope for his wife's sake. "We'll find her one way or another," he says to her softly, to which she nods. She places the letter on the table and then turns to him, her brow furrowed.

"I didn't talk to you about this earlier but I…I might have a theory as to what could kill the Skincrawlers," she begins quietly.

Jon's brow raises at her statement. "Really. Tell me. What do you think?"

Daenerys comes back to the bed and sits next to him once more. "Do you remember when I had those horrible nightmares back home? The one's of…blue flames?" He nods quietly. "Now that I think back on those, I remember that the dead in my dreams looked…a lot like how Tormund described them. They were all put together but had bits and pieces of themselves falling off or apart. They didn't quite look like wights but not…monsters either. Just walking dead. There was blue fire everywhere, but it was on the bodies of people I knew. Not of the creatures. What if blue fire is the key to killing those creatures?"

Jon bites his lip, letting her words sink in. "Blue fire…but isn't that solely their thing?" He looks back at her. "I mean with the White Walkers and their ice dragons…don't they breathe blue fire?"

"Exactly," she responds. "And so did this woman in my dreams. She had fire surrounding her, deep blue shades of it that were like the ones Viserion would spew. So wouldn't it make sense that they wouldn't use their fire against them because it would weaken them? Instead, they use the flames against us. It would make sense as to why we wouldn't know…because there's no chance of them using the flames against each other in the attacks."

"Even if that was the answer, how would we even be able to produce blue flames?" he asks her. "Our dragons only have the regular fire they breathe."

Daenerys bites her lip and sighs. "That's where the main issue comes in…I have no idea." She glances back at the ground and sighs. "It's just a theory…but I just want to feel like these nightmares I've had…mean something. I'm terrified of what might happen if we…if I…"

"Stop," he states instantly, causing her to look back at him. "That's not going to happen, and you know why? Prophecies are shit." Before she could talk, he continues. "I've had so many things told to me and nothing came true. We always expect a certain path and prophecies seem to spell that out, but life changes. Constantly. I never thought in a million years I'd be sitting here, with Daenerys Targaryen as my wife, with three of our own children, plus another three we took into our care, yet here I am. That's change. Something no one could have prophesized."

He sees the tiniest smile appear on her lips, and she looks at him with a soft sigh. "Jon, you don't know that."

"I may not know that, but I have to keep it in my mind because if I think about the alternative, I'm going to be a wreck." His forehead rests against hers, holding her hands tightly in his. "We're going to be alright…you just have to keep thinking that. We will."

For a moment, she didn't seem convinced, staring into him with hopelessness he had only seen a couple of times before. But after a moment it disappears, and she holds his own grip tighter, before nodding gently. "We will."

He pulls her against him, holding his wife in his arms. He was getting used to savoring every ounce of alone time that he had with her. Because any day could be their last. However, for now, he would live in the moment, before the world started to settle in again.

The next morning, everyone was up early. The army stayed put at their camp – including the Lords and their men of the North. Jon had gotten his children, Daenerys, and a couple of their men and guards to come along. Taevar, Rhaemon, Greyworm, and Moraq traveled as well to show them the leaders of their groups. Tyrion also came, along with Arya and Gendry, both of which were in the back, keeping an eye out for anything around the area.

Jon saw that Daenerys had worn the dress Mae had made for her – and the little girl had smiled from ear to ear when her mother thanked her for its beauty. She looked stunning in it, as usual. Jon was glad that at least with this lord, he could stop the wandering eyes, knowing that Robin was still a young man.

When they made their way to the entrance of the Vale, they were brought in by some of his guards. And when they arrive in the area where the moon door was – as Sansa had told him at some point – he could see Robin sitting on the main chair that was at the very top, speaking quietly to what seemed to be an advisor. But when the man turned, Jon was surprised to see exactly who it was.

Sam Tarly.

His hair had grown longer, and he looked thinner – a much different version of his old friend than he had expected to see. The moment Sam saw him, however, he could see a smile appear on his aged face.

"Jon," he says, his voice sounding the same as it always had. It brought back memories deep in his head that he had suppressed for a long time. After a second, however, he coughs and bows his head. "I'm s-sorry. I know you go by Jaehaerys now, your grace."

He instantly feels his shoulders drop before he turns his gaze to look at Daenerys, who urges him forward with a slight wave of her hands. "You don't need to address me like that," Jon says to the man, his own small smile of acknowledgment on his lips. "It's good to see you again, Sam."

The man smiles again, although a little less wide than before. Robin, at that moment, decides to make himself known, stepping up. "I'm sorry for my…advisor speaking out of term." Jon sees Sam briefly roll his eyes but doesn't say anything. "He arrived not too long ago from King's Landing with information on the King – information he'd like to share with you."

Jon raises an eyebrow as Robin descends down the steps to him. "It's good to see you as well, Robin," he states, getting straight to introductions.

Robin shakes his hand, bowing his head slightly. "I apologize for getting right to the point. We do have more important things at hand as Sam has said." Robin turns to Daenerys and bows to her. "I believe we never had the chance to meet. Robin Arryn, your grace."

Daenerys raises an eyebrow at Jon subtly. Sansa had told Jon a long time ago that Robin was a peculiar and stubborn child who had no manners whatsoever. Seemed that he had aged up quite a bit. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Lord Arryn. Your home is breathtaking. I've heard many have seen the, uh…moon door."

Robin looks up and chuckles. "Yes, as a child, I was quite obsessed with that…taken some time for me to grow. Now…I believe that you have come here to collect my men for this army against Bran?"

"Wow, he gets right to the point," Dan mutters quietly from where she stood.

"Dan," Jon chastises, causing her to raise her hands defensively as the children come closer. "Forgive my daughter – she speaks her mind more than probably anyone I've ever met."

Robin chuckles lightly. "It's fine. I know I was the same way when I was younger. What are their names?"

"These two – the twins, Daenesa and Daemon, but she goes by Dan." The two of them give an awkward wave. "These three are Mae, Zaevar, and little Nesara over here. We took them into our care while in Valyria." The two eldest wave to him as Nesara gives her most adorable smile she could, hiding behind Mae. "They tend to come along with us quite often. We have a sixth – a little boy that Daenerys just had some time ago – but he's back at the camp with her handmaiden."

Robin smiles at his explanation. "A beautiful family…which means we must talk even more about what is to happen if we want to save our lives here." He turns to Jon, nodding towards a hallway. "Come. We can have formal introductions as we talk strategy – and yes, the children can come as well."

"Yes!" Daemon exclaims before Zaevar nudges him in the side, telling him to shush. Jon chuckles and helps Daenerys up the stairs, following his men as they went down the hallways with Robin. He made sure to stay behind, as Sam comes down the steps, holding a book in his hands.

He reaches out and clasps the man's shoulder, and he sees Sam smile. "It truly is good to see you…but we do need to speak."

"We shall…once this meeting is over, you and I…as well as Daenerys will speak in the courtyard."

Jon feels himself let out a small breath and nods, following after Sam and his men once again. Acknowledging Daenerys was the first step. He could only hope what came next was good as well.

Robin was surprisingly easy to convince to lend his men.

Jon had a feeling that Sam had spoken to him prior to their arrival. He had said when they first walked in that Sam had become his advisor of sorts – something Jon would learn more about now that it was going to be just the two of them at Daenerys.

The conversation had gone quicker than he would have expected. Robin agreed to send his men in his place – someone had to stay behind and make sure no one took the Vale. Rhaemon, Greyworm, Moraq, and Taevar had all explained to him the tactics of their battles, and he had listened intently. Jon was glad that he didn't have to deal with the Robin he had heard stories about, honestly.

But he knew he shouldn't be surprised. As Daenerys had said herself the night before, everyone had changed and grown into new people. Why should the Lord of the Vale be any different?

Sooner or later, however, the meeting was done. The children had gone back to the camp with Teavar, while Robin showed the generals around the castle, trying to show what weapons the Vale men might bring to battle. Meanwhile, Sam had stolen Jon and Daenerys away to speak with them, bringing them to the courtyard as he had intended to.

Sansa had once told Jon that Petyr Baelish kissed her in this courtyard – a horrifying memory that even he did not want to experience. Gods, he hated that all of what she had gone through had only made her worse. If anything, it should have made her stronger, but here they were…her locked away and him having to deal with it.

It seemed that everything had stemmed from her leaving Winterfell. Bad things happened to Starks when they left the North…he seemed to be the only one that had good experiences besides that.

When they arrived in the courtyard, Sam took a seat across from them on one of the benches while Jon and Daenerys sat across from them. "It's been a long time, hasn't it?" Sam asks him once they were settled. "Now everything has changed."

Jon nods quietly, turning to look at him. "It has," he says simply, his voice quiet. Sam looks to the two of them before sighing and then glances back.

"I know that I have a lot to apologize for…and I think that begins with you." His eyes turn to look at Daenerys, who had remained quiet for most of the trip so far, silently taking everything in so she could have an idea of what was happening. She had never visited the Vale before so it was better to know what it was like rather than focus directly on the task at hand.

"We've been through many things, Sam. The past is in the past," she states.

Sam shakes his head. "No…no, it's not. It's because of my hatred for you that this whole fucking mess started." Jon raises his brow at the man's words.

"Careful what you say, Sam," he warns.

"I'm n-not saying I hate her anymore – not by any means!" Sam quickly restates, looking at her. "I…I did for a time in the past. You see…my family was never good to me. My father sent me off to the wall specifically because he didn't find me fit for anything else. I surely couldn't be the Lord of my house because I wasn't as skilled as my brother, or even really knew how to hold a sword…I still don't. I tend to linger more towards novels and books…however, they were still my family. And my father…he wasn't good but my brother was. And when I heard what you did to them, when you told me…I was angry. And I feel rightfully so. Whenever you lose family you do grow angry at the people who take them from you for a time…but that anger turned into something vengeful, and I knew the perfect way to get back at you – and that was to tell Jon about his parentage."

Jon could still remember that conversation to this day, how he had been completely consumed by the information. How he could hardly look at Dany when he found out. He hated that version of him.

"Jon wasn't the man that he is today. He's changed – plenty. But back then, I knew this type of information would…change things. It's why I did it, to somehow get back at you. So many people agreed with him and loved him and didn't know you…I didn't want you to be the queen because of the loss of my own family. I couldn't get past my own view to see the world view. And then his family found out about who he was, and then this whole mess started…I don't even know if I'm making any sense right now, but I guess I should just say…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I caused. I'm sorry for mishandling that information…you were my first friend at the Wall, Jon, and I fucked it up."

Jon could feel his heart drop. There was clear sorrow in Sam's voice, his head hanging low. "Sam," he begins, trying to keep his voice as calm and even as he could so he didn't scare off the maester anymore than he probably already was. "I don't care that you told me all that information. It wasn't you that drove us apart. It was me."

Sam's head raises slightly to look at him, brow furrowed. "But…but I-"

"Yes, you may have told me that information, and speaking it to me while I bloody visiting my family's tombs wasn't the smartest thing to do either, considering you were one of the smartest men I knew." He sees Sam glance away sheepishly for a moment before looking back to him. "But I didn't process it right. It was a bombshell of info to drop on me. I pushed away everyone for so long – especially Daenerys. And when I did tell her, I didn't know if we could ever return to what we were. I went against her word…I told my family about who I was. It was because I told them that my sister and brother plotted against us…it was as simple as that. Although I know that the blame is partially on you, do not take it all, because if anything, I could have handled this better."

He sees a look of relief leave him, but it vanishes quickly as he tries to recompose himself. "I'm glad that you see it that way…it's been haunting my dreams at night."

"However…I'm not the only one here." He looks to Daenerys, grabbing her hand. "What do you think, my love?"

Daenerys looks to Sam, who seemed to be waiting anxiously for her answer. "Lord Tarly-"

"Sam, please," he injects for a moment.

She nods lightly. "Sam," she repeats, testing the name out. "You know that when I burned your father and brother, it wasn't because I hated them or wanted to take their names – they were in open rebellion against me. Against what we were trying to do. The Wall has done the same thing against wildlings when they tried to cross the border – because they were in open rebellion against Westeros. It's a simple tactic to show power, who is in charge. I am truly sorry that it was your family that had to pay the price…but it had to be done."

"I know…I know that and I've come to accept that. It's been years since that day."

"However…because I can see how sorry you are, I can accept you for telling Jon." She turns to look at Jon once more. "Who knows? If he hadn't found out, we probably never would have had what we have now. It took embracing who he is to find our lives and homes here. I don't think we ever could have done it without knowing."

She turns back to Sam and reaches out, taking his hand in hers in a comforting move.

"I've said this so many times at this point, but so many things change. It's been years since we have been here. If we were to hold onto the past, then we would be lost. The only reason we came back to Westeros was because of the threat that is facing us down South. The one who wishes to destroy our family. We can only focus on the future."

"I completely agree," Sam states quietly, dropping his hand a moment later. "I…saw that you have that beautiful family."

Jon feels himself smile and glances at Daenerys, wrapping an arm gently around her waist. "We do indeed…with one that just came around. It's been an adventure, that's for sure."

"They all seem quite old."

"Well, Dan and Daemon aged up quicker than most," Daenerys explains. "We still don't understand why, but it's what happened for the first five years of their lives. Afterward, we found the other three, all of similar age. The only one that has seemed to act normal is Robb, but who knows? He's still a babe at this point."

Sam swallows and nods, turning to look at them with a grimace on his lips, a forced smile. "I'm happy for you, then…Jon deserves the world when it comes to his family. He always needed something better than what the Wall could give him."

Jon's brow furrows at his old friend's expression. There was grief hidden in there, a longing sadness that he hadn't seen in a long time, probably since he first met his friend. Memories fogged behind a clouded mind that needed to be cleared. And suddenly, he remembers that little Sam and Gilly were not here.

"Sam," he starts out gently. "Where is Gilly? And her son?"

Sam swallows and looks to the ground. Jon could see his shoulders begin to shake. "I…I was punished, Jon."

Jon looks at Sam in confusion, but before he could continue to ask what he was punished for, Sam turns his head back up, tears streaming down his cheeks quickly, his breathing heavy.

"They found out I sent you that scroll for their betrayal," Sam whispers. "I don't know how, but Bran did…he wasn't happy. And he thought that he…he needed to punish me for my crimes. But instead of killing me…he killed them. Both of them." He hears Daenerys softly gasp from next to him, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. Jon felt anger pierce through his body. "They had them hung in front of a crowd at King's Landing…I can still see their faces…blue and….lifeless…"

At this point he was sobbing, his head hanging. Jon stands and instantly hugs his old friend, feeling him melt and let go of everything. Fuck the past. Fuck whatever that had gone through. Gilly hadn't deserved that. And his son most surely did not either. All he knew was that Sam's family was gone, the one thing he had tried so hard to protect at the Wall, and then afterward wherever they had gone.

And who had taken that away again? Bran. Of fucking course.

A moment later, Sam pulls back, wiping at his face, shaking his head. "I was wondering why you looked so different," Jon mutters, glancing at his thinning form. "That's horrible to hear, Sam. I am truly sorry that this happened to you…Bran will pay for his crimes. For everything he has done."

"Truly," Daenerys agrees, standing up from where she sat been, her expression of horror changed to one of agreement. "We will make sure of it…I could never imagine losing so much in one day."

"That's…that's why I needed to see you," Sam stutters, trying to regain his composure, stepping away. "That…that happened…not too long ago, right before I came up here. I don't know if Bran can see me up here or not, but I knew that I needed to somehow get to you…to warn you of everything this…horrible man has been planning. He's…he's not Bran anymore."

"We've known that for quite some time," Jon states. "You heard us explain what had happened back beyond the Wall. He practically destroyed a quarter of our army."

"He's not well. I have a feeling for as long as he's been on the throne…he isn't who he is anymore. The Night King or whatever it is that has grown deep within him has…changed and evolved and…and grown so much more powerful….and it's our fucking fault that it's happened!" he curses, punching the tree next to him.

Jon had never seen Sam act so angry. He had always been the level-headed one out of every thief and smuggler that had shown up at the Wall, out of every disgraced Lord or bastard.

"We put him in power," Sam mutters, his voice dark. "We did this to ourselves…because we held onto the past of a former Targaryen. If we had just let you take the realms, let you do what you needed to do…none of this would have happened." His voice was shaky now as he turned to look back over at the two of them, the tears in his eyes finally gone, his articulation changed to one of anger now. "And now, all we can do is fight somehow for what he has become…I ran away from the capital afterward, needing to find you. I remember I mentioned the Vale in one of my letters and knew I still needed to come here…I want to join you. To somehow try and help you. I know that I'm not much, but I know how the Red Keep works. How King's Landing works. We can all figure out the best way to end this man and all his horrors."

Sam turns to the ground, his hands turning into fists.

"He is also planning on using something against you."

Jon's brow furrows again at the man's words. "What do you mean?"

"I remember before I left, he…he was complaining about some charms or something. I overheard it as soon as I was leaving…he wanted to bring someone back from the dead, someone that was in the Smoking Sea…someone he thinks can be used against you. That's all I heard because I'm quite sure if I stayed any longer they would have had me beheaded, but I knew I needed to tell you that."

Jon looks at Daenerys in confusion, seeing the same look of perplexity on her own angelic features as well, brow furrowed and questioning. "Someone in the sea…who is in the sea? How could he bring someone back to life that is sunken so deep below the waves?"

"I don't know," Jon mutters, shaking his head. "At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if he somehow brought back Rhaegal and Viserion again if he has fucking ice dragons beyond the Wall with this bloody army of his." He looks back at Sam and nods. "Thank you…it's good to keep that in mind. We don't know who it would be…not many have been torturous against us in the past but with Bran, you never really know."

Sam nods his head and lets out a deep breath, looking between the two of them. "If…if the two of you do not wish me to join your army, I can fully understand," he breathes out, seemingly looking like he was trying to control his nerves. Ah, Sam. Even as time had gone on, and he had lost so much, he was still a nervous boy straight down to his core. "I have gone against your will in the past, but I feel that I can be of help to some degree…at least to the point where I can hopefully aid you in getting into King's Landing safely."

"Well…we have Tyrion on our side now as well," Daenerys says gently. "Why wouldn't he be able to help?"

"Tyrion doesn't know what truly goes on beyond those castle walls now. The moment he and Davos seemed to leave, everything changed. So many events started to pile one on top of the other. It's different now. The same ways to get in have been blocked, security has been upped…it's a completely evolved and dark kingdom. The people are dying, starving, begging for help…and I couldn't stand to be there anymore. Not with that fucking king in charge, and not with my own wit with me…please. I beg of you. I'll do anything to aid you in this war. Anything."

Sam was practically already on his knees. Seeing his friend grovel at the sight of them almost made Jon pity him more. Bran had truly changed him. "Sam, please stand up straight." The man does as asked, looking at him in slight fear. "We aren't going to leave you behind here. I know that you took a role as Robin's advisor to get away from Bran now, as I can see. You haven't told him what happened to your family, did you?"

To which, Sam shakes his head numbly.

"We can take you with us," Daenerys says softly. "If not for your safety, then for the justice of your family…we might not be able to correct what has happened before, but we can correct what will happen in the future. As long as you stay on our side, we will be happy to welcome you into the Valyrian army."

Sam lets out the longest sigh of relief Jon had probably ever witnessed before a tiny, barely-there smile graces his lips. "Thank you…I didn't know if you would take me."

"Just…for as long as you can, don't hold a sword," Jon chuckles a little lightly. "We don't need a repeat of some of the fights that have happened at the Wall."

"I can agree to that," Sam states, walking next to them as they left the courtyard. "I'll prefer to stay with the council table rather than the war table."

When they had arrived back at the camp where their soldiers laid, waiting for them, Jon had taken Sam around to talk with everyone, welcoming him to the group of men and women who were brave enough to join them. He took him to Kinvara and the sorcerers – where he happily watched him be astounded by their gifted talents and fireballs that would appear out of nowhere. And he introduced him to his son, Robb.

The moment he saw Sam look at his son, Jon did feel guilt come through him. He still couldn't believe that he had lost his family, not too long ago. And yet, here he was, trying to somehow find justice for them, all because Sam sent the scrolls and the glass to Meereen, for wanting to somehow make a difference.

Even if Sam wasn't a soldier, or didn't help as much as he probably could, Jon was glad to see one of his eldest friends back, even if he looked different and had gone through some shit. For a moment, a brief one, when he had shown Sam the dragons, the magic of Valyria, he saw the innocent man he had used to be, the one who always thought on the bright side and tried to figure his way out of issues using his head and not his brawn.

But that was only for a moment because Jon knew that the old Sam was gone. It was replaced by a hardened one, one that needed help trying to end the horrors that had happened in this country. And sooner or later, they would.

Night fell quickly. They decided collectively to head back on the road in the morning. Jon and Daenerys later on finally sent out each letter to each of the houses to get them prepared to come to Casterly Rock, saying that it was urgent business, and the king must not know. To try and make the letters extra protected, he had Kinvara, as well as her other red priestess, place the same incantations on the pieces of parchment as they had on their ships. All of which would hopefully aid the houses in getting there.

One to every kingdom. One to hopefully unite them all.

He had been thinking a lot about Casterly Rock lately, and how Jaime Lannister might react to them coming. Tyrion had told him multiple times that Jaime was no threat, that after he lost his sister and his home, he had lost his spirit. All he was, was a lonely man, hiding out in a tower far away from King's Landing and the rest of the world.

But at the same time, it was Daenerys that killed Cersei, when Drogon knocked part of the Red Keep down, and the bricks of the castle had crushed her to death.

She deserved a much better one after everything she had put his family through. Despite Sansa's intentions, he knew what horrors that woman had caused her. Same with his former father. And her army had been the reason why Robb was killed. So many bad things came from that family. Jaime, however, had morals. He had come to aid them in the war, despite going back to his family.

But at the same time, he had also been in love with his sister, one of the vilest women Jon had probably ever had the chance to see. Daenerys may not have been herself that day, but there was no doubt in his mind that sooner or later, Cersei would have had to die somehow. And he only hopes that in all his years of isolation, Jaime might have come to the same conclusion.

Maybe.

Jon sighs and glances around. He could see that most of his children were relaxing by the fire they had going in the middle with Daenerys and some of their other followers. Dany was singing a soft lullaby to Robb for him to go asleep while Eleana was playing with Nesara. Daemon, Zaevar, and Mae were practicing their sword work, something he had seen much more of lately.

He had a feeling they were preparing themselves for the fights that were bound to happen soon. He despised that he had his children involved with this. The very idea of losing them devastated him. He couldn't imagine it actually coming true. Maybe that was why he felt so bad for Sam. He was going through what Jon could probably never do. Maybe if he did lose his family, then and only then would Targaryen madness most likely be evident within him.

He needed to stop thinking like that. Everyone else here wasn't. In fact, most were happily talking and laughing with each other. Tyrion himself was speaking with Tormund, who seemed to be back to his old self, cracking jokes and saying strange, funny things, if only for a little bit. Kinvara had toned down on her 'doom and gloom' speeches regularly and was more insistent on helping her peers grow with their skills, working on their sorcery, and making sure they were the best they could be. Everyone was trying to keep in high spirits.

Everyone except for Jon. But at the end of the day, he and Daenerys were the ones who were centered at this supposed prophecy…not them.

He sighs and realizes with a start that Dan wasn't with the children a moment later. Usually, she would be at the forefront of training – anything to show that she was better than her brother, the little competitive minx that she was – but not seeing her here was strange.

He glances back at the children's tent and quietly steps inside. There was no light besides one candle that was lit near a bed. And there, on the cot reading what seemed to be a book, was Dan, her brow furrowed, her gaze concentrated. Jon quietly walks over to her, and his footsteps alarm the young girl, whose head turns back up at him quickly.

"Oh, hi," she mumbles, before looking back down at the book.

"Now this is a sight I haven't seen in a while - you reading instead of training out there."

Dan sighs and closes the book. "If you want, I can go and train."

"I'm not trying to push you to do so. I'm just surprised you aren't. You love training with your siblings."

Dan bites her lip and then opens the book again, as he takes a seat next to her. "I do, but I've been thinking constantly about this prophecy and everything else that is happening. Kinvara's collection of books shows instances of so many of these events taking place. For example, apparently ice dragons roamed the world many, many centuries ago but died out due to the fire dragons taking over. And these White Walkers…obviously, you've seen them before, but they've appeared more than once, tens of times, actually. And these creatures that supposedly run with them have appeared as well…and that was only once."

"Wait…you mean the Skincrawlers?" Jon asks her, to which she nods. "So it's not entirely new…do they have a weakness in there?"

"No…because they killed so many people, many hid until the Skincrawlers died out. They took over the world for a long time, before the age of men." She closes the book and looks back at him. "But none of these….never had everything combined all at once. Where the White Walkers, the wights, the ice dragons, those creatures they have, the Skincrawlers…they all had separate points of invasion of the world. This is the first time they've all…worked together. And it's because of Bran….or whatever it is he is now."

He could see the terror in her eyes the moment she said that. Jon wraps an around his daughter's shoulders, pulling her against him. "You don't need to think about that, Dan. We are going to get through this."

"But what if we don't?" she asks him, turning her head once more to look up at him. "What if Kinvara's prophecies are right? That…that one of you has to kill the other or…or maybe even someone else you loved to somehow solve this? If all of this is truly…real?"

"Don't put all your fate in prophecies, young one," he says to her softly. "I'm trying not to either and it can be a difficult task, but we don't know what the gods hold for us. We can only hope that we will work together as a country and get through this."

She swallows a bit nervously. "Then what happens after? If we do defeat all of them…who takes over Westeros? Does it just…die? Do people rule from different kingdoms?"

"I wouldn't say that," Jon responds. "Westeros works better when the kingdoms are together and are trading with each other to survive. That's why having a ruler that is fair and knows what's going on with the rest of the world is needed. Which is why that monster needs to be evicted from the throne. He has been given too much power and now, it's completely taken over him. Who will rule…I'm not sure. We will figure it out when we get there. We just need to focus on staying alive, first."

Dan was quiet before she takes his larger hand into her smaller one. "I don't want you and mother to lose each other, father."

Jon feels his chest tighten. He loathed hearing his daughter say that. "We won't. I promise you. We will find a way out of this. Together." He hugs his daughter tightly, feeling her relax slightly against his grip but not entirely. A moment later, he nods towards the flap of the tent. "Go out and be with your family. You need to get away from these stories and novels for a little bit. Please."

Dan sighs but nods. "Alright…I love you," she mumbles.

"I love you too, sweet one," he murmurs, kissing the top of her head before nudging her slightly towards the door. "Take down Daemon for me – he needs a lesson after fighting with his brother last night." Dan smiles lightly at that, a smile that would light the whole night sky if possible, and nods, heading out. Once she was gone, Jon runs his hands through his raven curls, before putting out the flame with a simple pinch of his fingers.

He knew what was happening. All of these occurrences were getting to his children. They were getting worried. And sooner or later if they weren't careful enough, it was going to tear them apart. But the Targaryen's were never like that. They were stronger, smarter, braver, and knew how to stick together. They wouldn't let Bran end them.

A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing. But they would not be the last Targaryen's. Not by a long shot.

"You think you're so much better than all of us, do you?" Jon growls. He didn't know if Bran could hear him or not, but he needed to get this out. "Give us all you have – you are not taking my family. Not now. Not ever." He stands and holds the book Dan had been holding keeping it closer to him. "You want fire and blood? You're going to get it."

With that, he leaves the tent, shutting the flap behind him the rejoin his family.

The Red Keep

"…you're going to get it."

Ah, yes. Indeed, he knew he was going to. That was what he was intending.

Bran stared as the body he had requested was brought into the chapel they had built within the Red Keep. His hands glowed a dangerous blue. The body was burnt to a crisp and barely visible, several chunks having fallen off, but there was nothing in this world that he couldn't work with.

'Please!'

He feels himself freeze and closes his eyes, his hands turning to fists.

'Please, stop this!'

"Shut up and go back to where you belong!" he snaps angrily to the voice in his head, pushing it as far as he could. Within seconds, it was diminished, falling to the pits of despair, only a tickle in the back of his head now. A barely-there touch. That little voice had been trying to make appearances more and more lately, but Bran would not allow it. He would push that voice away until it was finally extinguished when his new world order could come again.

Bran smiles again, letting out a slow breath before gesturing to the guards. "Leave."

They run out as soon as possible – cowards – and close the door. He locks it and then turns his chair towards the table, before slowly standing and walking over. It was funny, how the boy before – the true Bran – had never been able to walk after his little incident. All he needed was for the touch of a king to give him back his skills.

But no. He went to become the Three-Eyed-Raven. All well. All the better for him now.

This version of Bran was better. This version of himself, of the true King of the Night, was better. And now…now he would have his partner.

He holds his hands over the body, muttering his ancient words under his breath. Shining, blazing, dark blue lights appear through the room, glaring across the walls, sparking underneath the fire that went out the moment he waved his hands. The body began to morphed. The burnt skin disappeared, only leaving behind scars. The flesh began to grow again, this time stitching itself together to the old flesh.

The heart began to turn a dark blue, beating once, twice, before moving once more. A ring of blackness stayed around her head where hair had burned off, refusing to grow, but instead, an ocean of blue flames replaced where hair would be, cascading down her back. Bran smiles wickedly, his hands emitting more power from within, cascading his life source into her.

"You have been asleep for a long time, my champion," he whispers. "Now you arise, as the Queen of the Night. Awaken!"

The fire reignites in the room as blue, and his hands stop glowing, dropping them to the side as he clutches the table for support. He waits for a moment before regaining himself, waiting for the woman to arise. For a moment, he tests the Great Other's ability. Had this not worked? Was his champion refusing to return?

And then, a moment later, she lets out a gasp of air, and her eyes fling open, an icy blue meeting his own. She was alive.

Who is this burnt woman? It will be told soon I promise haha

Here are some Dothraki translations for ya:

Hash ei ki yer resting akka davra here – All of you resting and good over here?

Kisha hash davra elat ha jin aena – We are ready to go for you in the morning.

Anha kis. Mithri chek – I try. Rest well.

Soo AUTHORS NOTE PLEASE READ:

If I can recall correctly the last time I updated this was October 8th. That was nearly two weeks ago. After sustaining a quite regular schedule with this story for some time now, I hope you understand that chapters may come a little slower. I've realized lately that:

a) I've been stressing myself out with these longer chapters because I want to make them long but I don't want to add pointless stuff. For example, this chapter was only 12,000 words compared to some of the other ones I've done that have been 23,000 words. My mental capacity recently hasn't been allowing me to write super long chapters, so I want to make these shorter but more detailed.

b) I've also been working on other things during this pandemic - like trying to get a job because I recently graduated college, so my life has been hectic and stressful and full of debt, and some days I genuinely don't feel like writing.

I'm not saying I'm going stop writing this story because I love it, or any of my stories at all because I love them just as much, but expect slower, shorter, but more detailed chapters just because that's all I can personally handle right now with how much I have going on. I love writing about these two little beans and their family, but sometimes we all need to relax a little. On that note, another chapter for this will be up soon because I love writing this and I know you all love reading and reviewing, so thank you for all being there for me. I hope you understand. :)

On another note (again), I've also been thinking of writing another Jonerys story - this one is a continuation of season eight to fix it and somehow make the story make sense and continued, while one on my Archive of my Own page, 'Cooking Up Trouble,' is a modern Jonerys story that's a little more lowkey than this. But I've been thinking of rewriting season seven and eight all together because it truly was a travesty and we need better stories telling better storylines for our favorite characters - in fact, I was going to start with season five, and Jon and Daenerys would meet wayyyy earlier, at least that's what I've been thinking. Would you guys be interested in that as my readers? As I would love to write it. Let me know.

As always, love it? Hate it? Want to send me through the moon door like Robin did in his youth? Let me know in the reviews, as they always inspire me to keep writing for you guys and pushing out these chapters for you all. You've been so considerate of leaving your opinions and responses to me so I just want to say thank you so much for all of you - you are all amazingly awesome! Don't forget to follow or favorite if you would like to join us on our adventure, and I will see you all in the next chapter. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you have a great day! Wash your hands and stay healthy!