Winterfell

Young Griff

"A dragon alone in the world..." He mocked, his icy blue eyes peering at him menacingly. "It truly is a terrible thing."

Aegon stared coldly at him, keeping his hands firmly clenched at his sides while he bit his tongue, drawing blood when he started to taste it on his lips. After weeks of travelling North, they had come to discover that Winterfell was in the possession of House Bolton or to be more specific, Roose Bolton's bastard son, Ramsay Snow. At first, he was angry at the sight he was greeted with upon arriving at Winterfell, all he seen was the flesh coloured banners of House Bolton and the next sight he was greeted with in the yard was two burnt bodies of small boys hanging. It sickened him knowing the fate that befell the innocent boys, Bran and Rickon.

It gave him a bitter reminded of the injustice in the world. I will answer injustice with justice, he thought to himself. After the anger subsided, he grew sad. There was a beauty in the North that unfortunately many of his men did not see, it was a wild beauty and he embraced it as they journeyed to Winterfell. Young Griff thought on Lysara Stark and was glad that she had disappeared. If he could not find her nor could Ramsay and for that, he was glad. Until I find her myself, no one can harm her. Aegon still had frequent dreams of her and he wondered if she dreamt about him. All of the dreams, he had held such beauty.

Young Griff had wanted to see the grey and white direwolf banners of House Stark above Winterfell instead he saw nothing but flayed men and cruelty. He heard the stories about Ramsay Snow. The man was a rapist, a murderer and a traitor. The stories he heard were horrific and he thought back to the fate of the mother he never knew. No man should ever lay a hand on a woman or child. Aegon had seen many injustices in his childhood but nothing angered him more when he sees women or children getting beaten.

What gives them the right? He thinks to himself as he stares at the hideous man. The man's eyes and the gauntness of his face made him uncomfortable, his eyes were not impassive like he initially thought they would be but instead, they were cruel and taunting, hanging too close to the edge of insanity. He wondered if his grandfather possessed such eyes. Aegon felt Ser Connington tense next to him as he took a step forward. It took all of his will and strength not to drive the man through with his sword.

"I offered your father terms of peace, he refused," Aegon began impassively. "I offered you terms of peace and you refused."

"You see, I have heard a story or two about you..." Ramsay mused, pressing the tip of his dagger into his finger as he leant forward in his chair, a smirk ever present on his face. "You have balls, don't you? I tend to cut those precious parts off, Reek can vouch for me. I took away his most prized possession. He cried when I took it from him. He cried when I took a lot of things from him actually. My father told me that you sent a letter to Robb Stark demanding Lysara Stark's hand. I can understand why, though, I heard she is a fine woman. I have sent the Umber's to find her and when they do, I look forward to having such a woman in my bed. My brother was once betrothed to her, you know? He rather liked her, said that she liked fire...Targaryen's like fire as well...you burn your enemies, I flay mine. I was trained to kill my enemies, boy."

"As was I," Young Griff responds stiffly.

"Ah, yes!" Ramsay said, smiling sadistically as he slammed the point of the dagger into the table. "Your family. You're an only child now, as am I. I love being an only child, don't you? It gives us so much power. I was finally given the respect and recognition I sought for after my dearly departed brother Domeric's death. I would have enjoyed watching your mother scream as she died while the Mountain fucked her bloody. I can't say much about you Targaryen's but I cannot fault you for how you deal with your enemies like your dear old grandfather did."

"We are not here to discuss the wrong doings of my family, Lord Ramsay," Aegon said fiercely. "I would look to your own sins before you look to my family's."

"You are a fine looking boy...You have a pretty face, such nice eyes that I would like to gauge out. My pack of dogs have not fed in a while and my dogs have a certain taste and hunger for human flesh, particularly a woman's but I suppose you look feminine enough...they might mistake you for one. My dogs are starving. I wonder which part they will chew on first...your face? Your cock? You have your terms and I have my own." Ramsay tells him, a cruel smirk making its way onto his face as his eyes brightened with a mad gleam. "I want you and your army to turn away from Winterfell. I want you-"

"I am not surrendering to the likes of you," Aegon interrupts. "You are to surrender not I."

"All the Targaryen's are gone," Ramsay sneers, his lips pursing into a small snarl and he eyes the man's yellowing teeth and noticed that his gums were a light pink like the colour of the cloak he wore and seemed to be bleeding. The man may have been dressed finally but he still was hideous. "Your reign is over. I want you and your ten thousand scum to leave Winterfell. If not, my men and I will kill you and your army of twenty thousand."

"My reign?" Young Griff inquires softly, his brows raised as he finds himself smiling. "My reign has just begun."

"You're a smart boy, aren't you? I want you to kneel before me and turn your army away from my gates. I want you to proclaim me the Lord of Winterfell," Ramsay replied, his voice low and dangerous which made him look on with slight wariness. "I may let you live if you do so. All I need is twenty men to destroy the likes of you...you don't have any friends...you don't have any allies...like I said a Targaryen, all alone in the world."

"No," Aegon said firmly. "I will fight you for Winterfell. You and I."

"Aegon. You cannot simply-" Ser Jon begins but he turns to face him, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Alright, dragon spawn...I accept," Ramsay said, accepting the challenge with the smirk widening even further like his eyes did, a feral gleam present in them. "It will take place at dusk on my terms. You can fight, can you not? If you can't, pretty boy, I will even allow him to fight your battles for you."

After they turned and he stormed out of the hall, the sound of Ramsay Snow's mocking laughter echoed in his mind as he marched down the hall and back into the frost covered courtyard, he could hear Ser Connington calling his name causing him to still and he turns back to face him. Aegon's eyes were trained on the man and he watched as the ageing man limped towards him, a heavy frown set on his concerned and frightful face. Young Griff's own brows furrowed as they walked back towards the gates.

"Aegon!" Ser Jon hissed, his eyes narrowing as he grasped his arm tightly. "I thought I told you to mind your tongue?"

"I said I would only if he held his," Aegon informed him.

"You cannot fight him. You-"

"You are here to advise me, Ser Jon. You are my Hand but I do not want you questioning me ever in front of my enemies again," Young Griff replied calmly, clasping his hands behind his back. "If you do, I will send you away and make another my Hand. He has his champion and I have my own."

Aegon hoped that when Westeros knew of his existence and knew of his survival, they would ally with him. He knew that the Northerners had little to no choice but to ally with House Bolton or be slaughtered. He would give them a choice. He would not give House Bolton mercy, he would answer their injustice against House Stark with justice. He would not become his father. He would not become his grandfather. He would become a dragon. His grandfather and father were not true dragons, they could burn but he could not. He was one with the fire. Fire made flesh, Ser Jon claimed he was. A true dragon.

"You do not have a named champion, what are you thinking boy? Do you even know what you have done?" Ser Jon demanded though he could hear him struggle to not slap him around the head to scold him as he had done so to him many, many times as a child. As a child, his tongue and his frequent desire to run off and explore landed him in difficult situations and it was always Ser Jon who saved him, who advised him and raised him. Rhaegar Targaryen may have been his father but he did not raise him, Jon Connington did and he was more of a father than Rhaegar could ever be. "You and I both know that the moment you face him, he will set his hounds on you. Who is your champion?"

"Fire."

The Land Beyond The Wall

Lysara Stark

It was the drums that were playing which drew her in, the drums were present when she arrived and they remained even after she was beyond the Wall. It was not the sounds of the drumming along that entranced her it was the sounds the dancers made around the large pyre as they danced their upcoming victory. They hollered and roared and screamed. It will not end well for them and she had warned them but they did not listen, she simmered when a woman by the name Ygritte mentioned she'd take her back to Jon Snow as he had somehow managed to slight her.

A few of the Free Folk had warmed to her as the tension lessened when Daramyr introduced her to his family. He had two young sisters and four young brothers, it painfully reminded her of her own family and she could not help but feel envy run through her veins when she saw how happy they were to have him back. The heavily pregnant Dalla and Val begrudgingly told her about their customs and traditions, although most of them were familiar to her, this tradition was not.

You can join in with dance. You might not like it, in fact, many folks will not like it but the moment you sing with the giants and sleep in our camp you become a part of us, the words of Dalla danced in her mind. You are safe here. You are not hunted here. You have free will here. You can do as you please, worship who you want. No one can control you. Your heart is free as ours and only you have the courage to follow it.

Lysara had to admit, the subtle warning made her curious but as of now while she sat by the two giants, plucking leaves from a stick, she felt nothing except comfort. A feeling she had not felt in a long time and it was such a strange yet sweet feeling. A feeling that would not last long. All she could do was marvel at the utter and pure magic beyond the Wall.

The fire was far more beautiful and wild than she could have ever imagined, the wisps of flames and the whispers beckoned her closer, entrancing and romancing her as she found herself rising to her feet. Come closer, the fire urged. Closer. The fire fell silent to her once more when the drums and various other instruments that were played grew louder and louder. It seemed the fire had fallen for the music as well. The sound was feral and had a rhythmic beat that made her hips slowly sway without warning.

An eager hand took her own before she could comprehend what had happened and she looked down to see Daramyr's brother, Jarald. He was talking eagerly and excitedly to her but she found his words fell on her deaf ears but she reluctantly let him pull her towards the fire and the other people who danced and drank next to the flames. Jarald was ages with Rickon and all she saw was his face when she took in the young boy's auburn hair and honey coloured eyes.

"Dance! Dance with me, Red Lady!" Jarald proclaimed, pulling her closer. "Dance!"

She unwillingly let out a loud laugh when the young boy began to swing himself around wildly, keeping his grip on her hands, the laugh escaped her lips as her hair fell out of place and her wild, curly hair went flying as he spun around. By R'hllor, it was a beautiful sight to behold. It was the most beautiful night she has ever bore witness to. The fire was burning bright, roaring and moving with the wild people. The sky had faded to a dark purple and she saw stars dance with her and the Free Folk. The moon had started to show, white and glowing, making the snow glisten beneath them. To dance around the fire was a pleasure she has not been given in a long time and the music was enthralling, capturing her in its feral hold.

Lysara felt her breath catch as she caught Mance Rayder and his wife, Dalla watch her. In fact, many people who had taken to drink over dance appeared to be watching her. Daramyr was sat next to Tormund Giantsbane, who kept nudging him and nodding her way. It made her lift a brow but her attention was directed back to the small boy that barely reached her waist as he stood on her boots as she twirled them around the fire, every so often lifting him high in the air.

The drums grow louder, deeper and faster. The world started to spin but soon enough she caught sight of Daramyr once more but this time, he was approaching them. His eyes held a glint that Theon held to often, causing her to eye him carefully. He remained silent as he shrugged off his heavily furred cloak and let it drop to the ground as he made his way through the dancers towards them which made her come to an abrupt stop.

"Dance!" Jarald urged.

The night was going to be a cold and long one but dancing by the fire gave her comfort, it made her feel closer to her Lord of Light and she prayed that he vanquished the terrors. The night was dark and full of them but she has come to learn, that some of the terrors...some of them wore human faces and that made the night all the more terrifying. Dance, the fire hissed at her as the flames took form and began to dance their own dance. Dance.

"Go on," Daramyr murmured, looking down at the boy and ushered him away with his hand. "Go find your mother."

His fingers laced through hers and he pulled her closer to the fire where she could feel the heat from the flames. The red haired man had let go of her hand for a moment or so before he lifted up her right hand and threaded his fingers through her own after pressing the palms of their hands together. His other hand trailed down to her waist until he let his fingers settle on her hips. Her free hand rested on his shoulder and that is when a smirk appeared on his face as he pulled her closer to his chest.

"Let us see how well you can dance," Daramyr said. "Red Lady."

All she could do was nod stiffly and with that, she began to listen to the drums that made her settle into a sway. Lysara licked her dry red lips as they spun in a circle, Daramyr practically lifting her in the air by her waist before he set her down. At first, she thought that he would have her attention but it was the fire she was settled in while she danced. Lysara swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat as she ran her hand down his chest before she shoved him away and began to dance on her own, spinning and swaying.

The fire is all she has ever known, ever since she was a child, all she had was fire.

Do not touch that, idiot girl! The Septa scolded. Do you want to be burned?

Lysara! Her father scolded her. The fire will burn you.

You truly are an idiot, Theon sneered. You can't go about touching fire. It burns!

I wouldn't go about doing that girl, Osha warned. The fire will burn you.

The moment she grew closer to the fire, the closer she could feel it. The fire would never harm her. It was true, fire burns brighter in the dark and all she could do was spin around it, weaving and moving her hands as if to beckon it closer towards her. She let her hands trail down her breasts and her stomach before she let them trail to her hips as she swayed. The fire was roaring and she felt them become one she danced around the flames.

The fire caught the small train of her crimson dress and she watched in wonder despite the looks of horror she received as it began to wrap around the entirety of the bottom of her dress. All the frantic cries to her, calling her to flee from the flames went unheard as she continued to dance, not caring for the fire that was slowly consuming her. It consumed her mind, body and soul. Lysara has never such power like this before. It was euphoric. It was delicious.

I am fire made flesh and fire is power.

Author's Note: Hey, I hope you liked this chapter. I would, first of all, like to thank all of you who have read and reviewed this story, who have made this story as one of your favourites and have followed it. I hope you liked the surprise pov. If you have any questions, feel free to ask and the next update should be up soon! This chapter was a bit shorter than what I usually write but the next chapter will be longer for everything that I will put into it.

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter.

Toliveinafantasy: Thank you, I'm glad you think so and I hope you like this chapter!

ATP: I believe Lysara does make a difference plus Ramsay will be battling Aegon in the next chapter!

ladyres: Lysara finally meets them all of them but all of that will change during the battle of Castle Black. As for Olly dying, he will die but I won't say why, when, how or who kills him.

Saint River: Thank you, I'm glad you liked that scene between them at first I was unsure of how I should go about it but I am glad I went down that road. I am glad you could picture it, although I have what she looks like in my head and don't really use face claims, Katie McGrath was the closest to what I pictured her as. It was her in image, I photoshopped it a bit but it was her. I can say for definite there will be a lot more giants and I will be including a scene with mammoths soon! I hope Aegon's pov in this chapter slightly cleared it up a bit. I can picture that too and I can that in a few more chapters Aegon will make the decision to head to the Wall but why he makes that decision I won't reveal yet.

Fan of This: Thank you! I hope you like this chapter. Her connection with fire will always be a strong focus in this story and I can't wait to write about her when she is at her full potential. I like to think of building up her powers based on types of fires, she grows from candle light to a campfire to a forest fire to eventually wildfire.

Guest: A lot of the time frames differ for each chapter, it took them hours and hours to get across to the other side of the Wall.

EMILCE CULLEN-VULTURI: Gracias!

celticank: Thank you! Lysara and Jon will be reunited soon. As for that, I can't mention anything yet.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Roose's Leech: Thank you. I had a thought that the religion of R'hllor (or the Lord of Light) is an almost vital part of the story but isn't really mentioned much and I had an idea about creating a character that worships him and the price they have to pay for worshipping him almost. I'm glad that achieved all of those firsts because I wanted this story to be original like no other. Although I like writing all three of my stories for different reasons. I like writing this story for the lore, for the magic and because she is a character that isn't necessarily good but she isn't necessarily bad.

jman007: Thank you!