Meereen

Daenerys Targaryen

Daenerys felt as if she had been walking for years, searching through the darkness in her dreams for a sign. A sign of something other than the cold beneath her feet and the darkness that consumed her. The full moon gave her little light and the little white flakes landing on her skin had burned her. Although she was a woman unburnt by fire, it seemed ice could.

It was foreign to her but she knew what it was. It was snow. All she could see was snow and darkness. The white as snow trees she passed, stared at her with eyes that cried blood and they appeared to be glaring at her, giving her great discomfort. Leave, the crimson leaves seemed to hiss at her as they blew softly in the wind that was picking up. You do not belong here. Leave.

Daenerys continued to make her way through the horrible woods, her sandals slipping on ice covered rocks as she stepped on them to avoid the snow but it was inevitable as the snow was between her toes and made her pale toes turn a light blue like the dress she wore. The woods was solemn and the trees seemed to sing a sad song that almost brought tears to her eyes when she made her way towards a castle with grey walls.

She could see movement catch her eyes and she turned abruptly on her heel, careful not to slip on the eyes and stared intently at the trees. Daenerys could have sworn she saw a dark shadow moving swiftly between the trees. The night was turning colder. It was cold, so cold and her entire body was shaking as she moved towards the figure, abandoning her walk to the castle.

"I know there is someone there," Daenerys said, her voice was carried with the wind. "Who's there?"

The figure was fast on their feet and before she could speak up once more, she found herself staring back at a large red bird. It was beautiful and ethereal with fiery red feathers that had an orange or yellow feather here and there, the tail of the bird was long as it remained perched on a low branch of the red leaved tree and reminded her of the long tails of a peacock when they were not open and proud. She marvelled at it before lifting up her long silken skirt and made her way towards the bird with a hand outstretched for it. The bird was the size of a swan and the bird was glowing a faint glow in the darkness. The bird had strangest of eyes, they were a gentle grey that reminded her of the moon above her. It was a bird with exotic features and she wondered if the bird was like her, the last of the dragons. Never before had she seen such a bird.

"Hello," Daenerys began kindly with a warm smile as she approached the smile. It trilled at her and fluttered its wings softly, reminding her of her children before they had grown. She hushed the bird and with the back of her finger began to stroke the side of its brown beak. The grey eyed bird's eyes seemed to stare into her very soul and heart, the stare that only humans could possess and she wondered if the stories that her brother told her about their ancestors warging into dragons were true to an extent, except this was a human trapped within a bird. "Do you know where we are?"

Daenerys let out a gasp when the bird began to make a strange gagging noise before it burst into flames and her eyes widened as she took a step back, watching as the bird spread its fiery wings and flew from the branch and into the dense and dark woods. The fire bird was flying from branch to branch, looking back at her every so often as if it wants her to follow it. She gave a gentle nod and made her way through the woods, hurrying after the bird that seemed to be dancing with the fire that surrounded it as it flew away.

"C-Come back!" She cried hoarsely, following after the bird. "Come back!"

Daenerys stilled when the bird flew into a large fire, it was not the bird flying into the flames that caught her attention but it was the woman standing next to the fire. It was the same woman she met in Qarth. Quaithe, she thinks to herself as she stares at the woman covered in a black cloak. The woman seems to stare into the flames for a moment or so before turning to face her. The brown eyes of Quaithe behind the red wooden mask she wears meet her purple.

"You," Daenerys excuses. "You are the cause of this."

"You are the one that did not listen to my warnings," The woman murmurs, shadows dancing around her. "Ignorant girl."

"What warnings?" She asks, blinking for a moment before she takes a step forward. "I am doing as you say. I have done everything that you have told me to do!"

"You are trusting the very people I told you not to," Quaithe scoffed. "The bear. The sun's son. The perfumed seneschal. You trust them. You cannot trust them. You cannot trust them nor the krakens, the dark flame, the lion, the dragons raised by a griffin and wolves. You cannot trust any of them, Mother of Dragons. I have seen it, they will come to betray you somehow or other. If truly do as I say, you would cast out the bear and the sun's son. You would rid yourself of the perfumed seneschal. You have not done any of those things."

"Who can I trust if I cannot trust anyone?" Daenerys asked, growing agitated with the woman's vague responses and riddles.

"You can trust one," The woman in the red mask told her, holding up a single and sharp talon finger.

"Who?" She inquired, her brows furrowing.

"The phoenix," The masked woman replied. "The one birthed from ice and reborn from fire. Find her."

"Where?" Daenerys demanded before stilling when she noticed the bird emerge from the flames and perch itself on the woman's cloaked shoulder, she watches as Quaithe hums softly as the bird parts its lips and begins to sing a song, the same sorrowful song she heard in woods earlier that reduced her almost to tears. The song reminded her of the loneliness she felt. The pain of being the last of her kind and she could feel tears in her eyes but she blinked them away. "Where can I find this so called phoenix?"

"First," Quaithe began, the fire around seemed to dance and move wildly. Daenerys stared into the heart of the flames and seen a shadow take form. It appeared to be taking the shape of a dog, howling at the moon. No, not a dog...Daenerys corrects herself. A wolf. "You must travel to a land of never ending winter and only then will you find the phoenix. The bird with fire made flesh. The bird is the last of its kind.

"Like me..." She trails off but Quaithe merely laughs, her laugh made her wary and she took a step back from the dangerous woman. Is she a dangerous friend or foe?

"No," The woman denies. "You are not the last of your kind. If you find the phoenix, you will find two of the three heads of the dragon. You are not alone, Daenerys Stormborn. Your dragons know, do you? The world will sing the song of ice and fire once the three headed dragon meets when winter comes. Beware Daenerys of the House Targaryen, winter is coming and the dead will come with it. The one born under a bleeding star, the one that was born amidst smoke and salt and the one that has awakened dragons from stone. The dragon is neither male nor female."

Daenerys opens her eyes, sitting up with a loud gasp and she immediately clutches her throat, looking around in search for Quaithe but finds herself lying under the burning sun of Meereen, atop of a cliff with her dragons at her side. Her brows furrow at the strange dream she had, her gentle heart was racing and she looked to her right to find Ser Jorah and Missandei staring down at her, sharing looks of concern. Daenerys felt a wetness on her faces and reaches up to touch it and when she takes her hand away from her face, it reveals blood was weeping from her nose.

"Ser Jorah?" The bear.

"You would not wake, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said as he knelt beside her and dabbed at her face with a cloth.

"I had the strangest of dreams," She murmured as she sat further up. "I dreamt of phoenixes. I have never heard of such a creature, the bird burst into flames before my very eyes."

"Phoenixes?"Missandei asked, surprise in her features and she watched as the golden eyed girl raised her brows. "You dreamt of them? You cannot possibly have."

"How?" Daenerys questioned. "Are you familiar with phoenixes?"

"Long gone," The girl said, shaking her head and she saw a look of sadness on the girl's face. "The last of the phoenixes died out over a thousand years ago."

"Can you tell me more of them, Missandei?" She inquired, gesturing to the nearby rock for the girl to sit on. "Sit. I wish to here."

At times with the vast amount of knowledge that the girl has, she forgets that the golden eyed girl is only ten and one name days old. She watches as purple dressed girl approaches her, lifting up the skirts of her dress to reveal brown sandals as she makes her way towards her and sits on her knees at her side. Daenerys gives Ser Jorah a pointed look, causing him to nod and with a sigh, he stands once more and turns, walking away from them as she wished to be alone with the girl to hear her story.

"The phoenixes were not given that name until the Common Tongue was introduced to Meereen. The ancient people of Meereen hailed the bird as nēdenka dāez run," Missandei tells her. "The fierce, free thing was what they called it until they came to discover that the feathers of the bird could erupt into the flames and the bird could be reborn from fire. The phoenixes were believed to have been a raqiros hen vēzos, a friend of the sun. It is said on dark nights only the wandering or lonely people can hear the song of the phoenix. It was said to be a sad one but the end of such beautiful creatures prove that we as a race, are cruel. The founders of Meereen had hunted the phoenixes down to obtain their feathers, they believed that they could become immortal themselves should they drink the blood of a phoenix. The blood of a phoenix is poisonous while their tears...the tears they shed are said to bring anyone back from death. A rebirth."

"Was there any phoenixes in Westeros?" Daenerys asked slowly, finding herself entranced by the story.

"Yes. A phoenix was traded by Meereen to Westeros. I do not know where the phoenix was traded to some say the North of Westeros while others claim the South but the Westerosi did not take well to the bird that could be born again and could not be burned," Missandei said with a shake of her head. "The Westerosi shunned the phoenix bird. They claimed that the bird was an omen, the bird was fire made flesh."

"Ser Jorah?" She called, turning to face the man. "Do any houses from Westeros possess the phoenix as a sigil?"

"No, Khaleesi," He replied. "The phoenix was terrible, terrible and red."

The Wall

Jon Snow

Jon stilled, hearing sobbing coming from his little sister's chambers. I must be dreaming, he thought to himself with furrowed brows. I am back at Winterfell. He turned and approached it, holding his breath as he listened to the sobs that no one else seemed to hear. The guards and maids that passed did not seem to hear it as they walked straight passed the door, without sparing a glance to it. Jon's hand wavered at the handle of the door before he slowly turned the handle and opened the door, letting out a small relieved sigh to see that it was unlocked. He opened the door and found his sister Lysara, staring into the fire with her knees drawn up to her chest and tears sliding down her face. He was reliving a memory of his time at Winterfell. I remember this...she was ten name days old...

"Lysara..." He began, kneeling beside her as he inspected her face and tucked a strand of wild, curly dark hair behind her ear. "What is it?"

"They don't believe me!" She snarled softly, wiping the tears away fiercely as she shrugged herself out of his grip and a sob escaped her red lips causing him to look on in pain. "I told them what I say...but Theon called me a liar! They were laughing at me! The children were throwing rocks at me and calling me a witch! I hate them, I hate them all...even Ser Rodrik was laughing at me because of that kraken...it was embarrassing! I can see things, I really can! My mother said I was a terrible, red girl for saying such things about Robb...but I did, I really saw him walking with a wolf's head. I dreamt of it."

"You aren't a liar. You are the most honest person I know," Jon told her, trying to hold back the anger he felt for Theon as he made his sister cry and had humiliated her. He knew what it was like to be in her situation as Theon had too much to say for himself and most of the time his insults and cruel jests were directed at him for being a bastard. Jon would not let Lysara become a target for Theon's amusement. "I believe you. You aren't horrible or red...you are beautiful."

"No, I'm not. Theon said I was ugly and stupid. Sansa, Jeyne and Beth were laughing at me because I tripped into the mud when I was running away," Lysara said, letting out a mournful sound that made him wince. He has never heard a child around Lysara's age make such an unearthly sound. "Why are you here, Jon? My problems are stupid compared to the treatment you have been given...I need to stop being such a pathetic girl!"

"You shouldn't listen to the likes of Theon Greyjoy. I think you are beautiful and I have never lied to you, have I?" Jon asked, crouching closer to her. "I know what I saw that day and if you say fire saved you, then it did. If Theon is calling you that, he is the stupid one. He is very ugly and smells of fish, so why would you listen to him? You have never listened to him or anyone else before, what made you start listening to such words now? What happened to the Sara that would climb the walls of Winterfell despite the screams of Lady Stark or would wander into the woods despite Lord Stark's warnings?"

Jon watched her in silence as she stifled her sobs, it hurt to know that his half siblings tended to favour him above Lysara. He looked at his little sister and saw himself. He saw the same dark, curly hair. The same solemn grey eyes and wished that he could take her away from Winterfell and protect her from the cruel taunts and jests from the other children. Their father's ward, Theon was full of himself, thinking that he was better than himself and his sister but the kraken wasn't. He never would be. Theon and Lady Catelyn were the only people in Winterfell who openly despised him and mocked him. If he had to be around his sister all day and night to prevent them from taunting her, he would. It did not matter if they hurt him, they could do so but the moment they hurt her...

"I am not crying over them. I would not waste my tears on that kraken, I would fillet him first before he would break my heart," She huffs, causing him to let out a small laugh. "It's just...I hate the way they treat you, you have a far better purpose than the likes of Theon Greyjoy will ever have and I hate that you are being treated like that. I hate him, I really do...I hate mother too...I hate her for agreeing with him, none of them know what you are worth!"

"I'm just a bastard," Jon says solemnly. "I don't have a purpose."

"You do!" Lysara exclaims, grasping onto his shoulders and the grey eyes that mirror his own peer at him with a manic stare. "R'hllor has a purpose for everything. From a little pebble to a grain of salt. All things have a purpose, even you. You just have not discovered your purpose yet and once you do, they will cower before you. I know they will. I have seen it."

"How about we tend to your knees?" Jon offers weakly, helping her stand when he notices blood running down her legs and takes in her torn and mud covered skirt. "We don't want you getting an infection, do we?"

"Jon." The voice stirred him as the memory faded to darkness. "Jon!"

Jon's eyes opened and he was met with the stone ceiling of his chambers, he let out a soft groan from pain and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to rid the sleep from them. He looked blearily at the edge of his bed and saw an anxious Ed staring at him. Dark wings, dark words, Jon thought and the saying was true. He recalled Lady Catelyn saying it many a time. The first crow to wake him was Sam to inform him of the deaths of his father, Bran and Rickon and that his sisters, Lysara and Arya were missing. The second crow to wake him was Pypar and that is when he came to find out Robb and Lady Catelyn had been slaughtered at the Red Wedding. He had no one left now. All he had was the cold and the hope that his sisters would arrive at the Wall.

"W-What?" Jon asked hoarsely, letting the furs slide from his body. "What's wrong?"

"We caught a Wildling," Ed informed. "He asked for you. I think there is something you need to see."

Jon sat up, swinging his legs around the bed and stood up, making his way towards where he kept his clothes and shrugged on a simple tunic which he laced up. Ed briskly left his cold chambers to let him get ready but all he could think of was why a Wildling would ask for him. It made him think of Ygritte. He continued to dress in his black and dark brown garb before throwing his black as night cloak around his shoulders. He turned to face Ghost, who's red eyes were peering at him curiously. His direwolf stood up and they left their chambers, looking down to the yard to see a Wildling brought to his knees with a sword at his back but he seemed to be smirking and smugly looking at him.

"What does he want?" Jon asked as approached Ed.

"Don't know," The man shrugged. "He won't tell us anything. All he wants is you."

"Ah, Lord Crow!" The Wildling man grunted, looking up at him and gave him a bloody smile.

"Why haven't you killed him?" Jon questioned, ignoring the man as he turned to face Ed in confusion.

"You don't want to kill me," The man said. "You won't ever get your little sister back if you kill me. I'm your best chance."

Jon stiffened, his eyes slowly landing on the man as he stared at him with cold eyes. The man looked pleased with himself as he sat up straighter from his kneeling position and tugged slightly at the ropes that kept his wrists together. How could one of my sister's be beyond the Wall? Arya is somewhere in the East of Westeros, no doubt. Lysara is somewhere North and Sansa has fled from King's Landing. Jon's brows furrowed but Ghost approached the man with a snarl, circling him and gnashing his teeth every so often. He had never seen Ghost act so vicious before, the last time Ghost acted like this was when a wight was nearby. He called for red eyed direwolf and turned his attention back to the man.

"H-How do I know that you have her?" Jon demanded.

The man raised his hands with a raised brow causing Jon to reach for his dagger and cut the rope, releasing him. The Wildling man rubbed his wrists before reaching into his pocket and pulled out a piece of red fabric, the familiar crimson made his eyes widen and he felt his own lips purse in a snarl but the moment the man blonde haired man throws the piece of fabric at his feet, his white direwolf lungs for him and latches onto his shoulder, causing the man to cry out. Jon stared at the man, feeling nothing as the man fell back, clutching at his wound and Ghost turned around to the fabric, whining pitifully and nudged it softly, his red eyes flickering to meet his own. We have to find her, his direwolf seemed to say to him. He knelt beside Ghost and stroked his bloody face before picking up the red fabric and bringing the silken fabric to his face, he inhales deeply and before he could say anything, Ghost nipped his hands before taking the fabric in his own mouth.

"I know," Jon sighs, scratching Ghost behind the ear. "I know."

Winterfell

Young Griff

"Idiot boy!" Jon swore at him. "What is your plan? How do you intend to face him?"

"I already told you. He has his hounds and I have fire. I will set him and his twenty good men alight. I will end his life and kill every last Bolton in Winterfell. I will retake Winterfell and crush House Bolton to the ground once I have done so and afterwards," Aegon said coldly as he sheathes his sword into his leather belt and turns to face Ser Jon. "I will travel North and I will find my bride and then I will marry her, making her my Queen and I will gain the entirety of the North and the Riverlands. If they refuse...I will set them afire. That is my plan...You don't approve of it, do you?"

"I don't think I have every told you about your grandfather, have I?" Ser Jon asked him, causing his brows to furrow as he takes a seat. "I have told you plenty about your father but never of your grandfather."

"The Mad King? What of him?" Young Griff scoffed, pouring himself a goblet of wine. "He is nothing but a stain on our history. Aerys Targaryen means nothing to me."

"I served the Mad King and your father, Prince Rhaegar for all my life," Jon Connington tells him. "You do not know...You do not know what he was like..."

"Tell me," Aegon encouraged, raising his goblet to his lips and took a sip before placing it back down on the small table. "I want to know."

"The words that have passed your lips were not your own, those words were your grandfather's and that frightens me. Your grandfather, Aerys Targaryen was given the name the Mad King by his people. He did not need enemies to be given that title. Even the kindest of hearts called him the Mad King. He was not known as King Aerys. He no longer was the King of Westeros the moment he started to turn on the people he ruled. At first, he was burning villages of the small folk, then he started to burn castles and then...then he started to burn men alive. The man was mad. He burned men and women and children alike with wildfire and he laughed as they screamed while they burned to death," Ser Jon explained causing his calm demeanour to turn into one of horror as he stared on at Ser Jon in disbelief. "The Mad King relished in the screams. The girl is from the same blood of Rickard and Brandon Stark. He burned Rickard alive and made Brandon watch...that is not only what he did...he gave Brandon false hope...the deadliest of poisons. His decent into madness killed every single Targaryen except three. You, Viserys and Daenerys."

"I am not him..." Aegon says, his voice wavering as he looks up to him. "I'm not...If...If I ever ended up like that...I want you to kill me...I order you to kill me...I have seen a Westeros, a Westeros that is not ruled by lions or stags. I see a Westeros that is ruled fairly and justly. I can promise that I will never act so foolishly like my father nor will I act so cruelly like my grandfather did. I will act as a King. As a ruler. I can promise, Ser Jon Connington that when I become King of Westeros and take my place on the Iron Throne...I will do everything that I can to prevent anything like that from happening. I will end all the evil in the world."

"I will, Your Grace," The man responded. "You are not like your grandfather nor are you like your father. I thank the Gods each day that you are nothing like them. That was justice to the Mad King..."

"I will answer injustice with justice," Young Griff said. "I intend to kill Ramsay Bolton...I will answer his unjust crimes with a just sentence. I make the orders, therefore I must act them out."

"Wise words," Jon retorted but the smile fell from his face. "If he is wise like you are, he will wait us out and hide in Winterfell. I doubt he will face us until we go knocking on his doors."

"I doubt it..." He said, his face screwing up as he takes another sip of wine. "I have a few more hours to plan until then I will drink and be merry, for these moments might be my last. I suggest you do the same, Ser Jon. I know of men like him, they are all too familiar...we have met people like him before...if the North think him a coward, the North will stop fearing him and once they do, that is when he truly will be weak and he cannot have that. The likes of Ramsay Bolton feed on fear. He will not wait us out. Do you honestly think that bastard will play fair?"

"No," Ser Connington said. "Let us see what his words are worth."

"Ramsay Bolton will not fall for any trap we may attempt to set," Aegon replied. "He is a trap in itself...He too confident...too smug and that will be his downfall."

"As it will be your downfall," The ageing man retorts. "You have too sharp a tongue and too quick a temper. You are matched."

"We will come to face death," Young Griff said fiercely. "Now let us see if we can face it."

A horn sounded causing him to rise to his feet, he shared a look with Ser Connington before he placed his goblet down on the wooden table and makes his way abruptly out of the tent along with Ser Jon. At first, he thought that Ramsay Bolton had arrived a few hours earlier in an attempt to catch him by surprise but his brows furrowed when he caught sight of a fiery red sigil with a brown hairy beast on it. Aegon had never seen such a sigil before and marched towards the armoured men, keeping his hand tightly on his sword.

"Who is that, Ser Jon?" Aegon demanded, his eyes growing cold as he stares at a man that pushes passed his soldiers.

"House Umber."

Author's Note: Hey guys, I hope you liked this chapter! This chapter was a particular favourite of mine to write and I hope these pov's surprised you. There is a lot of clues and foreshadowing in this chapter about things to come. Let me known what you think. I would like to first off thank everyone who has reviewed and read this story and I would also like to thank everyone who has made this story one of their favourites and have also followed this story. It means a lot to me and the next update should be up soon if you have any questions feel free to ask and I will happily answer them!

Reviews-

ZabuzasGirl: Thank you, I hope you like this chapter and her and Jon will reunite soon!

Saint River: I hope you like this chapter! Yes, I wanted to include that all her life she has endured a lot and it has given her a sense of triumph as they made her seem insane. There was a small snippet of what Aegon intends to do but until he and Ramsay fight his true intention won't be revealed until then. I'm sorry, I made a small typo that I must have missed. I can say for definite that Aegon has ten thousand men, thanks for pointing that at out. I did alter the Wildling plan canonically and it will be explained a bit further in the next chapter when it is Lysara's pov once more. I might in the near future include that!

jman007: Thank you!

Guest: In this chapter, I gave a little more of an insight through Jon about what Lysara has gone through and although she was safe at Winterfell, she has endured a lot of mocking and cruel taunts. In a way, she was shunned by many people but because of her name and who she was, she wasn't cast out completely but had it been a different house and had she had a different family name, it would be safe to say that they would have exiled her or had her killed.

RHatch89: Thank you!

Fan of This: Yep, Aegon vs Ramsay is coming up in the next chapter and you will really see if he has a bite to his bark. I hope you liked this chapter and the pov's that came with it!

Guest: Nope, he get's zilch. I hope you like chapter twenty two!

Arianna Le Fay: Hopefully you like chapter twenty two! A lot of reunions will happen soon and I can say that a lot of secrets will come to light as well. Unfortunately, Aegon won't be fighting Ramsay until the next chapter.

celticank: Thank you and I hope you like this chapter!

aishiteru naru: Thank you!

Guest 2: I have included Daenerys, Jon and Aegon in this chapter because I kind of wanted a three headed dragon chapter so I hope you like it!