Jon crouched amidst the reeds and weeds. The water from the river lapped at their feet but they remained out of site in the cover, and they could clearly see the entire ship from where they waited. Within, somewhere, was Dany, so close he could almost feel her. He knew he was hardly thinking straight and had to separate himself from the fear that she might already be dead, to form a planning to get them inside. He turned at once to Theon.

"Do you recall that mid-winters feast when you and I took down Rob and the Karstarks snow fortress, only the two of us?"

"Aye," rasped Theon, "We blitzed them from the back. The look on their faces!"

"We got in very close, and listened until the time was exactly right. Then we struck."

"Aye, that was all your plan, Jon." Then answered him, "You always had great plans."

"We raid as quietly as we can."

"There is one up on the at the top there." Tyrion joined the whispering, "He'll be the bell ringer. Someone who wakes the rest in the event of an attack. We have to take him out before the rest. Is anyone a good climber? And silent-"

The man he spoke of suddenly slumped into the crowsnest, dead. Howland Reed lowered his bow and asked Tyrion, "What is next?"

"Davos and I will take up a place of rendezvous as you depart from the ship." Tyrion told them, after a long look at Howland Reed. "Jon will lead the raid."

"And I will go after my sister, Yara, once we are on board." Theon added.

"We go for the queen." See Jorah nudged Jhorro.

"I am with you Jon." Howland nodded.

Jon grinned, darkly, "Now we fall in, and everyone be as silent as the Night Kings grave."

Smoothly they glided through the water, freezing though it was, and Jhorro said every curse there was in his tongue. The ship was more then equipped to fight and there was a watchful guard at every corner. But the night was late, the darkest of hours had descended, and they could see the ship far better than anyone on board could see them. It was systematic, and focused. Every man fell silently, and with one blow only, first Jorah's curved blade, then Jhorro's, Jon slit the throat of a scabby pirate obliviously picking his teeth, and Howland took down two more with his arrows. One by one they hit the deck, like a ghost of death had struck, until every soul they saw had departed. When they gained the outside of the cabin, Theon continued down into the belly of the ship for Yara, and Jon caught strains of the conversation inside.

"One touch," moaned the voice he loathed to hear. "One bloody poke. Do you know who I am?"

"Leave her!" demanded another voice, thin and whispery, as though more were talking along with it. "She must not be touched."

"Here lies the most beautiful woman in the world boys, don't you at least fancy a closer look?"

Jon adjusted ever s slightly to peer in through the window, and could see that Euron Greyjoy sat, as though a filthy King, and a small distance from him two men stood and glanced at each other at this suggestion. They both were clothed almost like knights, but too gaudy, too flashy for any true fighter's taste. And there, bound and laying still upon a couch was Daenerys, and hovering just above was what looked like a diseased and tortured ruin of a man, with a pallid blue colour to his skin, and far too much interest in her.

"How do you supposed the Boy in the North fucks her then? On a dragon?" Euron laughed hard. "Ah, I should love to fuck a girl on a dragon."

Jon hissed back to the others what he spied, adding, "I don't believe my eyes but it looks as though that shit slinger Jon Connington is in there, and probably Harry Strickland the man he spoke so ill of."

"All day, we have fucking sat here, when we could be in Kings Landing by now!" Euron hollered and kicked out at a rack of swords. "This isn't how an Ironborn does things."

"Do you ever shut up, Greyjoy?" Said the man Jon thought was Harry Strickland.

"Maybe the two of you can shut up first."

"Do you wish for her dragons to find us and tare us to pieces? Or burn us in seconds," it was the cruel thin man who spoke, "Because we hang in the balance now."

"I wish," said Greyjoy, "to be deep inside the Targaryen girl, on my way to delivering her to the Queen. You are the only thing standing in my way, now- Will you be done soon?"

The thin, bluish man hissed and snapped, "Something is stopping me, blocking me..but not for long. I shall find him."

"Jon," whispered Sir Jorah, distracting him. "We should capture the Golden Company men. Owning them will keep the sellsword army from attacking us later." Jon nodded. "But Greyjoy and that cursed Warlock must die."

"Warlock?" Holland Reed repeated, "The world grows stranger and stranger still."

"Perhaps I shall keep her, " Greyjoy brought Jon back to the window. "Show her how an IronBorn does it?" He was stretching his hand out for the queen and the Warlock shoved him back.

"Do not! The connection is fragile. I cannot risk her waking."

Euron Greyjoy growled and spun around, pacing the cabin. "I'll take every hole in her body soon enough." Jon could feel the rage just below his skin, as though boiling within."You lot. Stop looking at me like that. Go and guard my fucking ship!"

The two left the cabin readily enough, closing the door heavily and one said, "Don't know how much more of that Ironborn bullshit I can take."

"I'm beginning to agree with you," the second voice was the unmistakable gruff of Conningtons.

"What sort of chaos have we gotten involved in Griff?"

"The sort we must fix ourselves Harry. We can't let him defile the girl. We must take her back to Essos, keep her safe from this Warlock, and wait for her army to pay to have her back."

"And the Company? Were you not worried that she would turn their hearts if they but saw her?"

"It is different now I met her. She is Rhaegars blood, and so like him," he was so close to Jon, he could hear him breathing. "Let us save her, and ransom her."

The words 'Rhaegars blood' were still fresh in his ears when Jon knocked Connington over his head with the hilt of his sword, cleanly bringing him down. The leader, Harry Strickland, reacted fast, but was beset by Jhorro before his sword could be drawn. Both men soon became dead weight, that Jorah helped the bloodrider drag away.

"We will take them to Davos and Tyrion, to bind up." Said Sir Jorah.

Howland put his hand on Jon's shoulder, "We will get her."

Jon jumped at the distinctive sound of a man being rent apart and exploded into the cabin just Euron Greyjoy was yanking a swivelled and giant hook from the Warlocks back. Blood flew when he swung it, and Longclaw shuddered when it stopped the blow. Whatever abomination it was, Jon knew, just by the way air whooshed around it that the would be a hard fight to win.

"The King in the fucking North," Euron laughed and his teeth glinted in his delight. "Oh the bloody things I will do to you. To the pair of you."

Jon gripped Longclaw hard, inched closer and closer to Daenerys, and said, "You should have kept away from all this, Greyjoy."

"Oh, and let you have all the fun, eh? You parasites that jumped my ship will have your parts strewn across every sail." Euron spit.

As soon as he was close enough, Jon touched her face with the back of his fingers. Even in the dim light he could tell she stirred at his touch, but Euron drove forward at him, swinging the weapon hard, and Jon had to throw himself across the floor to keep from being split in two.

Euron laughed again and "She's mine now, Bastard."

Thank the gods, Jon noticed that it seemed particularly hard for Greyjoy to lift up the hook after lunging so strenuously. He waited him out, and sure enough the pirate charged again. Jon stepped to the side and then hurled everything he had at him. Hacking, spinning, jutting Longclaw at his wildly, every blow Greyjoy swiped away with his monstrous hook. One slip of his foot on the Warlocks blood and Jon felt the coiled blade nestle just behind his thigh, then rip upward. Pain brought him down to his knees at once, and a hasty chuckle from Euron before what he was sure to be his own execution.

The sound of a bolt shooting loose, told Jon that Howalnd Reed had saved his life but the growl of fury after, said that the shot was not a fatal one, and the villain Greyjoy tossed his massive hook right into Reed, sticking him to the door fast. Jon felt a cold wave roll though him. Greyjoy's hook was lodged hard, and Jon forced himself to a foot. Slashing up the villains back he felt the blade open up armour and skin as though it were butter. Greyjoy slumped to the ground and Jon ran to grab Reed as he was falling to the ground.

"Jon, your mother… would be proud," he grasped Jon's hand, "Oh but she would be proud." He sputtered blood and then was still. Jon shook his head, but the sound of a chilling full-throated laugh brought his suddenly back.

Greyjoy was hoisting himself up, riven open but still forcibly there, and he was far too close to Daenerys. Jon stood to face him. His wounded leg was shaking uncontrollably. Fighting was all there was left, but he wasn't sure he would win this. He found the rest of his strength and charged, at once getting ahold of Greyjoys hook within Longclaw, but just as he'd wrestled the thing away from Euron, a large club crash down on Jon's head, and he toppled to the ground, his consciousness slipping. He wrestled with waking, or just giving in to the darkness.

"Hello there, little queen." Jon just barely heard a voice say,"See there, your boy hero is dead. I've killed him just now. You're armies are scattered in the winter wind, and the dead are coming…" Jon could nearly taste the rage inside of him, and seemed to be wrestling with his own slow muscles to awaken. He growled and he screamed but his body only twitched. "No No, don't look away Gorgeous. No tears. I'm offering you life."

It was an obvious buckle releasing that finally brought Jon fully back, but Dany screaming made him sit up. Greyjoy was stumbling back from her and Jon saw a dagger hilt jutting from his eye socket. Daenerys met his eyes, her hands still bound, but now bloody. Theon and Yara flew through the doorway in time to watch Euron wrestle the small dagger Jon knew to be the queen's, out of his eye with a great shout.

"You right cunt-"

"Shut up Uncle." Yara called out to him. "You've been flapping your jaws on this dirt for too long."

In a swift motion Jon knew well from boyhood, Theon tossed up a spear and caught it again in his fist only to launch it like a dart at Euron, where it caught him through his collarbone with a crunch of sinew and bone. They crossed the room in a moment, and Yara took up the hook as she went, holding it fast to her uncles throat.

"I am," he sputtered, "your only family."

"Pretty thing," Yara swivelled the blade. She asked how sharp he kept it, and then she pulled it across his throat. Euron made his last sounds, and finally fell silent. "I've all the family I've ever needed with me." Yara said to Theon.

Jon rolled forward to his hands and knees and groaned.

"Jon," Daenerys voice was shaky. He swallowed back blood, and pushed up to his feet. "You're alive."

"You're alive," he hobbled to her, and locked her iHe only then noticed she was still bound and he hastily started untying them. Yara came to untie her feet.

"I overheard men saying they had captured the Dragon queen. I was filled with rage, but it filled me with life again. You are always Queen to us, Your Grace."

"I owe you," Said Dany rubbing her wrists, "You are my ally, and a queen yourself. Do not forget. Listen now, everyone, Drogon is close. He will burn this ship to nothing!" The Greyjoys heeded her advise at once but Jon tried instead to scoop her up in his arms, overestimating the health of his leg. "Jon no!" She cried, "He is coming, and he will strike with fire and blood."

The screeching could be heard now, high and far off but chilling all the same. "I won't leave you, " he said.

"I cannot be hurt, Jon. I have the blood of dragons."

He almost trembled at the words when he said, "So have I."

"What?" She searched his face, but Drogon called again, piercing the night and the boat heaved with the weight of a dragon dropping down on it. "Jon, you're hurt!"

"I can walk still," he took her hand, "Lets go."

Outside the cabin, mayhem reigned. It was a feeding frenzy for dragons as more men tried to escape the now burning ship for an arguably worse fate, like rats running into the jaws of the cat. Drogon purred at Daenerys as though pleased to see her in Jon's company and safe at last. It did not settle Jon down any however, for the two brothers invariably ate everyone one board. He was beginning to finally understand that Dany was a true player in the race to rule everything, and a hard one to take out as well. What she needed him to be was not another saviour, or coddler trying to keep her locked down, it was to believe that she was as much a contender as he was.

"This way," he eased down onto a skiff tied to the ship, just as it began to crumble in flames, wincing at the sharp heat of his bleeding leg. "Can you swim?" He asked reaching up for her. "This is a sad lifeboat at best."

She nodded, and slid from the ship into his arms, asking, "Are you alright?"

Lit up as she was from the fire of the boat, Jon could only smile and say, "I am now."

She did not seem to believe him, "We must fly to Winterfell Jon, Drogon can take us."

"There are others, a search party." Jon told her, untying the skiff and pushing them away. "Tyrion, and Ser Jorah will want to know your safe- they are close at hand."

"Can we take them all?"

"We've taken prisoners, also." Jon searched for an oar. "But as soon as they set eyes on you I think you should set off for Wintefell."

"Now Jon," she said weakly, "Don't you be like that."

He felt a pang of urgency at her tone, and scowled as the leaky skiff slowed in the water. "Fuck this."

He jumping into the water, cold but heavenly on his ripped leg, and guided the skiff. She wavered where she stood, and lowered slowly to a crouch. "Jon." She said softly, "I knew you would come for me."

He swallowed hard, and pushed through the freezing water gratefully. "I always will," he said.

As soon as they reached the party, with their smouldering fire and bound up prisoners the argument renewed. "At once," it was Tyrion who began, "You must take to the skies at once!"

"Your Grace," Sir Jorah had bear-hugged her for rather too long, "What good will it do to muddle back to Winterfell when the Golden Company is still searching for you."

"Not with our a Commander they won't be!" Growled one of the captives.

"You'd better keep that within yourself in the future," Davos told Harry Strickland. "there are some very vengeful Dothraki where we're going. And you've just kidnapped their Khaleesi."

"Did they hurt you?" Tyrion asked next.

"No," Daenerys answer was not as truthful as Jon was looking for.

Ser Jorah still had her hands, and Jhorro threw a barrage of questions at her in Dothraki which she answered readily. The pain in Jon's leg pushed itself back in without warning and her nearly buckled under the strain of hiding himself up.

"Where is Reed?" Tyrion asked of him.

That same cold wave of realization flowed over him, and went straight into his wound. Jon forced himself to say, "He fell to Euron Greyjoy. I very nearly fell to him. But Theon-" Jon turned to him, "Well done Theon."

Greyjoy dipped his head. "Well done Yara."

Yara scoffed, "Well done Queen Daenerys. She blinded the snake first."

"Truly, I almost wish I had been there," remarked Tyrion. "Almost."

Dany smiled softly, but it froze when her eyes landed on Jon, "Are you alright?"

Jon tried to answer, when a fresh wave of pain rushed through his legs and set his knee on the ground. Daenerys sounded panicked, and suddenly all was a blur of carrying, and Jon trying to bat people away from him. I will be fine, he wanted to say, but his mouth wouldn't work. At one moment he was dipping in the shore again, and the next he could feel a hot and leathery body under his legs, cold night air in his face. The dark threatened to take him again when something inside of him screamed to awake.

"Hold onto me Jon!" She cried over her shoulder to him," I cannot hold you myself, love." He felt he was holding to tightly to her already, so small she was. He feared he would take her with him, if he should fall. And so he fought falling, desperately.

She and Drogon were almost one and the same. If she leaned one way, he leapt at the chance to go there too. Sometimes she spoke words, and others it was as though she were sharing the animals thoughts. Jon was entranced by it, in his delirium. Below, the lands rushed by, far too fast for him to make out where they were, while above, the stars barely moved.

"That way," he pointed below, "Winterfell is just beyond those barrows."

She followed his lead, and Drogon followed hers. He could feel her trembling, and knew he must have been as well, but to her holding her, living and breathing in his arms was enough right then for him. "I will land outside the gates," she told him. "I don't wish to scare anyone."

Jon wavered under a fresh wall of gripping pain when she landed and decidedly gave up being aware any longer.

"Just a small ways more." She said, and he tried to nod.

He was slipping, everything was were sounds and feelings and movements but they were all happening at once. Voids of restless sleep were striking. In the break of one he thought he saw a hearth. What felt like hours later, he opening his eyes to the hearty masters chambers of Winterfell. A fire roared and he was tucked under furs and sheets. In a large and pillowed chair slept Daenerys, soundly. He smiled before once more drifting off to sleep.