I know its been forever since I updated - I got terrible writer's block but I've finally figured out how I'm wrapping up this story. I hope you enjoy this installment - I hope to have more out soon!
Aegon
Aegon Targaryen could not remember ever being so restless. He'd flown far greater distances than the span of the Narrow Sea in the past – nearly twice that distance when he'd travelled from Mareen to Kos after receiving Rhegal from his Aunt – but this time ever beat of his dragon's wings seemed to come a century apart.
In less than an hour, he would meet his brother. He had been chomping at the bit to visit the Lord Commander since Missandei had discovered a missive describing his birth in Ser Barristan's effects. Daenerys had called for patience saying that going to the Wall before they came to Westeros generally would be a mistake. She had reasoned that the Night's Watch was likely all loyal to Stannis now, due to the assistance he had rendered them, and that this Jon Snow may well not believe them. Once they took Westeros, she reasoned, then they could go to him. She had no desire to quarrel with the Black Brothers unnecessarily, and besides, from every report they'd received his leadership on the Wall was a vital necessity with winter gathering.
But then the missive from the Bolton's had come – proclaiming that they had the Lord Commander in their keeping and were willing to talk terms with the Targaryens in exchange for Jon Snow's safe keeping, and Daenerys had been on a week-long trip to negotiate a treaty with the Dornishmen.
She'd understand that he had to act, when she returned he told himself for the hundredth time. After all, she couldn't expect him to leave his only living brother in the hands of the Boltons, even if that brother was currently unaware of their blood relation.
He was giddy with anticipation as the Westerosi shoreline came into view, so distracted by his excitement that he forgot to check for vessels before dipping below the cloud cover. He was positive one ship anchored at the mouth of the Blackwater had seen him, and he admonished himself inwardly for his lapse, still there was nothing for it now. No amount of care would stop the tale of his visit to the Dreadfort from spreading around the Seven Kingdoms, one ship could hardly make a difference. He sent another silent prayer up to the Seven that his aunt would understand the necessity of his unilateral rescue of their kinsmen, as he swooped low, following the river until, at long last, the looming grey outline of the Dreadfort came into view in the fading light of the early evening.
He was here.
Jon
Jon's heart beat wildly as Theon Greyjoy – the enemy of his childhood and the murderer of his brothers – lowered him and his sister slowly from the window of Ramsay Bolton's tower room. He was completely at the Ironborn's mercy, with both of his arms wrapped tightly around Arya's disturbingly lifeless form, the effects of Ramsey Bolton's Mummer's Freeze poison still keeping her trapped in temporary paralysis. Slowly, moving barely a foot at a time, Greyjoy lowered them down the side of the tower. Jon's chest clenched with tension at every sound, even the squawking of a dozen birds taking flight in the distance sent a wave of chills up his spine. He knew it was probably his own utterly helpless position, but he felt as if the whole world was holding its breath in silent anticipation waiting for something to break the unnatural peace.
And then he heard the banging knock – ringing out through the evening air and reverberating down to him from the open window above. Abruptly, the lowering stopped, as if Theon had frozen in horror at the sound.
"Milord Ramsay, sir? Y-your father says to bring the L-lord Commander to his antechamber ser."
The wavering voice of the castle guard showed clearly that the man dreaded bringing such a message to Ramsay Bolton, clearly fearing that he would be the next victim of the Bastard's bloodlust for daring to disturb him in the midst of torturing Jon.
The silence that followed was deafening to Jon. He hugged Arya's lifeless form tighter as he glanced down. A full twenty feet separated his dangling legs from the ground. It was a fall they'd likely both survive, but the chances of him being able to get up, sling Arya over his back, and run away after that were slim to none.
Theon, please. He found himself willing the Iron Born to act with all his might.
"Th-the Lord Ramsay i-is sleeping," Theon's terrified voice came echoing out of the window. "He, he s-said he is n-not to be disturbed."
Jon exhaled in relief, as the rope began to lower again, albeit at an even slower pace than before.
"You listen here you little worm," the guard's angry voice said, coming out stronger now that it was clear he was addressing Theon rather than Ramsay, "you tell your precious master that a dragon's been spotted on the horizon and his father, the Warden of the North demands that his prisoner be brought to him at once!"
At that they dropped a full two feet. The banging on the door recommenced, louder this time but Theon did not respond, instead throwing all his efforts into lowering Jon and Arya haphazardly down the remaining twenty feet.
"Were my instructions not clear?! I said the Lord Commander was to be brought to my chambers at once!" Roose Bolton's arngey voice echoed out into the night.
"I-its Reek Milord, he says Ramsay's sleeping, says he's not to be disturbed!"
Jon could almost feel Theon's hands trembling as the rope continued to lower.
"Ramsay! I don't give a damn what state your in – I don't give a damn if you're buggering the Blasted Crow right now, get your arse out here and drag that Black Bastard along with you! The dragon is minutes away and I don't want him sneaking him out of the fucking window!"
The banging grew louder.
"Oh for the sake of the Seven – break down the fucking door!"
Just ten more feet. Theon, please just ten more feet.
It was too late. Just as Jon heard the sound of heavy axes begin to thud into the wooden chamber door the sunset was suddenly blotted out by the enormous shape of a bottle green dragon. Atop the dragon sat a young man, with a lanky, athletic build, tan skin and a shock of jet blue hair. The eyes of the rider and the dragon were both fixed unwaveringly, on him.
Wham!
His feet his the ground heavily, just as he heard the door above splinter apart.
Boom! The dragon landed with a thud in front of him its yellow eyes still locked unblinkingly on Jon. He swung Arya's paralyzed body onto his shoulder, drew his dagger with his right hand, and turned to face the boy. To his surprise the dragon rider was looking at him with a look of mingled hopefulness and awe on his face.
"RAMSAY!"
Roose Bolton's bellow of rage came from out the window, just as Theon Greyjoy's thin frame came hurling into view, shimming down the rope as fast as it could go. Had he had the time to think Jon would have been shocked to hear the anguish in the Warden of the North's voice. Rumors of Roose Bolton's distaste for his son had spread throughout the North, and yet the devastation in his cry was unmistakable. Roose Bolton was near mad with greif.
"GET THEM! KILL THEM ALL! MY SON – THEY'VE KILLED MY SON!"
The shouts of men echoed from around the yard. There was nothing else for it. Jon cut himself free from the rope, praying that Theon would make it down in time and made straight for the dragon's flank, holding the creature's gaze, until he reached the rider in the saddle.
"Jon Snow," the man breathed – sounding younger than the twenty-two years Jon knew he must be, as if he'd somehow managed to live a life free of the treachery and pain that had plagued the realm these past six years.
"Take her. Take her with you and get away from here."
"I came for you, brother. I cannot take you both!"
The young man's eyes were troubled. Behind him Roose Bolton let out another howl of rage. Jon turned, just in time to see Theon Greyjoy falling, falling…
"Take her to the ship that's anchored at the Mouth of the Dreadwater. Take her there, and after that I will come with you, wherever you like."
The rider's purple eyes widened in surprise, but Jon didn't hesitate – he swung Arya down, met her wide panicked eyes with his, kissed her briefly on the forehead and passed her to the man who must be his only true brother before taking off into the trees at a run.