Emma D'Arcy and Olivia Cooke really didn't disappoint! This show just keeps getting better and better and this week's episode should be even better with some truly excellent Fire and Blood moments.
This seems to be quite an anticipated chapter, so I'll jump right into it and hope you all enjoy it. Bold speech is High Valyrian and all recognisable characters and locations belong to George R R Martin and/or HBO.
One of the days that Lord Commander Jon Snow had been dreading had arrived. The entirety of Castle Black had gathered in the courtyard, snow falling softly down from the sky and resting on both the ground and the unlit pyre peacefully. It was a sad day for all, as Maester Aemon had passed in the early hours of the morning.
As Lord Commander it fell to Jon to speak for him, and so with a torch in hand Jon took a deep breath and stepped forwards, isolating himself from the gathered crowd. The Night's Watch had a ritual for joining the order as well as for death, although despite knowing the words, saying them was difficult.
"His name was Aemon Targaryen, the son of Maekar. He came to us from King's Landing, and was a Maester of the Citadel, chained and sworn, as well as our sworn brother. He was a man of great service that swore off all titles and honours that a man of House Targaryen could have had and dedicated his life to the two orders that he belonged to. I have never met a man as wise as Maester Aemon, nor shall I ever again. He served a dozen Lord Commanders during his time here, a constant throughout all of our watches. He was the blood of the Dragon, but now that fire has gone out, and now his watch has ended."
"Now his watch has ended." The men of the Watch repeated mournfully.
Jon lowered the torch down to the corner of the pyre, lighting the kindling in between heavier wooden logs to start the cremation before handing the torch to Ser Alliser who lit another corner. The Lord Commander stayed in that spot as the fire grew, engulfing the body of the 106-year-old man that had lived through three centuries.
"Goodbye, Maester." He whispered, and at that exact moment Jon swore he saw the image of a dragon rising up in the flames, as if the Maester had spread his wings in death and his soul was flying up to greet his dearly departed loved ones.
Back in his time at Dragonstone Luke had seen paintings and drawings aplenty of the once famed Dragonpit. Once as large as the Red Keep, the Dragonpit had stood as one of the crowning jewels of Westeros sitting proudly atop the Hill of Rhaenys, it's dragon entrance a carved tunnel within the hill. Now it was a ruin, the domed roof having collapsed in flames over 170 years earlier to leave a depressing sight in its place. Luke wanted to rebuild the magnificent building, but so far other, more important issues had needed financing. The dragons were still drawn there for some reason unknown to Luke however, and the King of the Seven Kingdoms knew exactly where Valaxes would be as he rode with his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard towards the ruin.
Valaxes had been asleep, though Luke heard the shrills and calls of his dragon as he made his way through the stone corridors to the large space that housed the black and crimson dragon. Since his return Valaxes had grown further, and a saddle had been affixed to the dragon's back as Targaryen's of old had once done. Luke stared up at the magnificent creature in admiration for a moment.
"Are you sure about this, Your Grace?" Ser Barristan asked, the elderly knight having pushed gently on the journey over to the Dragonpit. "The Council…"
"The Council are not Targaryen, Ser Barristan." Luke stated bluntly. "They do not think as I do, and they never shall." Ser Barristan grimaced, but he bowed and stood aside as Luke made his way closer to the waking Valaxes. "We have been waiting for this moment, Valaxes." Luke said in his native tongue. "Together we shall ride as one, as our ancestors did before us." Valaxes understood, bowing his head down to allow Luke access to the saddle up his wing. It was awkward having only one hand, but the Targaryen soon settled into the comfortable seat, feeling the warmth of the dragon's back seeping through the fabrics. Luke grinned, and said the word he had longed to say ever since the dragons had hatched on his first wife's funeral pyre. "Sōvētēs!"
There was an awkward jolt as the dragon moved forwards, crawling on his legs and wings as he made for the open air. Once they had left the confines of the hillside Valaxes seemed to shake and stretch himself out before looking upwards longingly, and lurching into the air. Luke held onto the reigns tightly as Valaxes rose into the air, and a large grin crept onto the Targaryen's face at the thrill of flying. Once they were above even the height of the Red Keep he pulled the reigns and the dragon veered right towards Blackwater Bay, and Luke allowed himself to shout in exhilaration as they soared over the water, before he pulled the reigns the opposite way to head back to land.
They were so fast that they covered the distance between the two hills named after Aegon's sister-wives in a matter of a couple of minutes, before Luke pointed Valaxes at the Sept of Baelor. They landed on the last set of steps leading up to the holy building, and Luke could already see a small gathering of Sparrows, with Ser Theodan at the front, the Dornishman's hands resting on his sword.
"Your sister has already threatened us with a dragon, Your Grace!" The holy man shouted over. "Do you think to have us cower at the sight of another?"
Luke ignored the man and aimed his speech at the men that followed him. "Your High Sparrow has been executed tonight. His head now mounts the Traitor's Walk and his body fed to the dragons. Any who do not wish to meet the same fate as him this night need only walk down these steps now, and I swear to you that you shall live."
"You cannot spill blood here!" Ser Theodan shouted back angrily.
"Nor will I." Luke bit back. "You have ten seconds to drop your weapons and move towards me."
Ser Theodan scoffed. "The abomination is bluffing."
There were a handful of Sparrows however who had visible fear in their eyes and their bodies were shaking in the candlelight. "Ten." Luke began. "Nine, eight, seven."
"You cannot scare us!" Ser Theodan roared. "But tonight we shall rid this mortal plain of you! Archers!"
"Four!" Luke shouted louder, having been spoken over by the Dornish knight. "Three."
"Nock!"
"Two! One!" Luke roared.
"Draw!" Ser Theodan roared just as loudly.
But Luke was quicker. "Dracarys!" He spat venomously, and Valaxes lifted his head in excitement before he let out a hot stream of dragon fire, immediately incinerating Ser Theodan and the Sparrows closest to him. Those on the outskirts of Valaxes' flame weren't so lucky, and the horrifying screams of burning men began.
Arrows were shot out at him then, though Valaxes blocked them all with his wings, the steel tips no match for dragon hide. After the first breath of fire Valaxes turned his head slightly and aimed towards the side, roasting a new set of Sparrows before having to block a second volley of arrows. "Fly!" Luke commanded, and Valaxes took to the sky, avoiding a third volley of arrows. Luke got high enough in the air before instructing the dragon to circle around, gaining enough distance and speed for a strafing run on the building itself. When he was close enough, Luke roared out "DRACARYS!" and Valaxes' flames this time collided with the doors to the Sept so powerfully that they were completely ripped off their hinges, with the fire following into the building.
Completely unaware of what was about to happen, Queen Margaery was in her chambers with her grandmother and her son, the two Tyrell women having started a list of suitors for the Princess' hand.
"We need somebody that the King will accept, but that won't have a chance to threaten us." Olenna was saying.
Margaery scoffed as she rocked her son on her knee. "The King won't accept anybody." She rolled her eyes. "And those he would accept, we wouldn't. Would you like to see the Princess wed to a Lannister? That would be the smartest match for House Targaryen, but not for House Tyrell."
"There is bound to be at least one boy that fits and gets the Princess away from the King's ear." Olenna countered. "Lord Velaryon's son…"
"Is a boy of 11." Margaery shook her head. "Meaning 5 years until any wedding."
Olenna sighed. "Then let's look at our own vassals…"
"Any one of those that are of an acceptable standing would look to use the Princess to supplant Father and Loras." Margaery shook her head once again. "Perhaps the Tarly heir…"
Olenna smiled, noting it down. "Good, or one of Paxter's children. They bring ships and wine…"
Aegon began to fuss, and so Margaery changed her hold on the baby. "Luke will never agree." She repeated frustratedly.
"He will have to." Olenna said firmly. "He cannot allow her to go her entire life unwed. Even if we arrange a marriage where her children take her name…"
Margaery could see where Olenna was heading with that talk. "If you suggest to him cousin Garse or Garret, Lucerys would execute you there and then for suggesting a bastard." Margaery warned.
Olenna scoffed at the suggestion. "No of course not. I was thinking more Elinor's brother… what's his name again?"
Margaery's cousin Elinor was one of her many Ladies in Waiting. "Luthor." She answered knowledgeably.
Olenna rolled her eyes. "Luthor, another one? We are a rather unimaginative bunch…" She trailed off, as her eyes darted to a point behind Margaery's head. "What in seven hells…" Her Grandmother cursed, rising to her feet with the aid of her walking stick and making her way to the balcony. Margaery followed, and she immediately gasped when she saw hot, fresh orange flames burning over at the Sept of Baelor.
"He wouldn't…" Margaery gasped, but immediately knew that her husband would.
"The older I get; the stupider men seem to." Olenna sighed.
"He feels emasculated, angry that his council disagrees with him." Margaery surmised unsurprised, as a new blast of fire shot towards the Sept. "Dragon blood is no joke, it causes such nonsensical temper tantrums." She looked down at her own silver-gold haired Targaryen bundle anxiously. "Mother will have to teach you the meaning of patience, my love, as your father is too easily coerced by his damned sister."
They watched on as more fire was shot at the Sept of Baelor, and they could hear the crumbling of the Sept roof from the Red Keep. "He will be vilified for this." Olenna stated. "I could almost admire the conviction if we weren't the ones that would have to clean up this mess."
That got Margaery thinking. "Ser Taron!" She called out for her Kingsguard protector.
The Crownlander entered the room immediately. "My Queen." He bowed, his eyes widening at the scene in the distance briefly.
"Can you please fetch my father and Jaremy at once." Margaery ordered, knowing that she would need both the Royal Steward and the Master of Coin. "I believe we have some strategising to do."
"Your Grace, I am sworn to protect you, not to be a messenger." Ser Taron protested.
"We shall be fine with Left and Right young man, now do as your Queen commands." Olenna retorted impatiently, and at the admonishment from the old woman Ser Taron bowed once again and quickly departed. A loud explosion brought the women's attention back to the Sept of Baelor in the distance as a green eruption, lighting up Visenya's Hill in bright green flames. "Gods be good…" Olenna whispered, horrified. "Wildfire."
Margaery's face meanwhile contorted into one of controlled anger. "What have you done, Luke." She whispered. "What have you done…"
Despite the horror emanating from elsewhere in the Red Keep at the sight of the explosions over on Visenya's Hill, there was one room in particular where the sight of orange and green flames burning fiercely were met with a sense of intriguing enjoyment. Daenerys held her niece up to watch the scene from the Princess' balcony, and the newly 4-year-old Targaryen child was entranced by the colours.
"Green!" Visenya pointed excitedly. "Look Dany, green!"
"Very good sweetling." Dany smiled, pressing her lips to the younger girl's cheek. They stood in silence as the building began collapsing in on itself, the flames jumping higher in the night sky. Dany couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her face at the thought of the fanatics burning inside the ruins of the Sept. She spotted Valaxes in the flame light and pointed out to the dragon. "Can you see?" She asked the child.
Visenya squinted her eyes for a moment towards the bright lights of the fire, and she gasped when she saw the dragon. "Valaxes!" The girl cried out.
Dany saw that instead of heading back to the Dragonpit the dragon was flying towards the Red Keep. Grinning, she lifted the girl up higher so that Visenya's eyeline was level with her own. "And if you look carefully, you might see someone else…"
They waited with bated breath as the dragon got closer, but the speed of Valaxes meant that he zoomed overhead almost instantly. That didn't stop the two Targaryen women from spotting the King's silver hair flowing out from behind his head. "Father!" She exclaimed knowingly.
Dany grinned. "Yes Visenya." She nodded, taking one last look at the burning hill in the distance. "Father is riding Valaxes." She made her way towards the child's bed, placing Visenya in and tucking the covers around her gently before sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Did he make the green fire?" The child asked, rubbing her eyes from tiredness.
Seeing no reason to lie, Daenerys nodded her head. "He did, sweetling."
"Why?" Visenya asked.
Thinking about it for a moment so that she could explain in a child friendly way, Dany settled on one version. "There were some bad people there that hurt your father badly, and as he is the King, he needed to teach them a lesson. We are dragons, Visenya, and no man can hurt us without consequences." She placed a kiss on her forehead. "You and Bloodwing will be flying together one day, and you will understand that we are different than everybody else."
"We are dragons." Visenya repeated sleepily. "I want to breathe fire too."
Laughing, Dany ran a hand through the girl's hair. "One day, my love. One day. But for now, may you dream of the dragon you will soon become." She kissed Visenya's forehead once again before blowing out the candles in the child's room, closing the door quietly as she departed.
Ser Jorah and Ser Caspor were stood outside the door, and they both moved to attention when she appeared. "Princess." Ser Jorah greeted.
"We must go to the Throne Room, Ser Jorah." She explained. "I must see my brother."
"We heard… explosions." The white cloaked Ser Caspor began, his voice still as gruff and deep as Dany remembered from Pentos though he had become more of a babysitter for the Princess than the fierce warrior that Daenerys remembered.
She nodded. "The Sept is no more, and your King rides a dragon." She boasted proudly. "Good night, Ser Caspor, the Princess is sleeping soundly."
"Thank you, Princess." Ser Caspor bowed his head towards her. "Good night."
Daenerys smiled, before leading her Northern sworn shield down in the direction of the Throne Room. They barely got to the main staircase when the Mormont broke the silence. "There will be trouble, Princess."
"Undoubtedly." Dany responded, her footsteps echoing in the candlelit darkness. "But nobody will think to rise up against the King now that he rides the Dread reborn, Ser Jorah. The message from the Sparrows will be one of Targaryen victory, and that is what matters."
The King left Valaxes in the main courtyard, watching as the dragon lifted off into the night sky gracefully. His vision caught on a small flurry of activity on the higher floors of the castle and Luke knew that he would be having a conversation with his Hand that night. Sighing, he made his way into the Throne Room rather than up to his chambers, closing the door so that he was alone in the large hall. He slowly walked atop the golden carpet over to the Iron Throne, resting his eyes on Meraxes and Vhagar's large skulls hanging either side of the stained window. Steeling his thoughts, he turned around and sat on the throne of his ancestors and waited.
It only took 5 minutes for the doors to swing open, and Jon Connington stormed in angrily. "You do not know what you have done." The Hand of the King began as he was still walking.
Luke ignored the accusations. "When I saw my Father sit on this Throne, I thought he was a god." He began. He looked so tall, so powerful that I almost forgot he was but a man. 1000 swords he told me it was made from, the swords of the fallen. It's only when you sit on the Throne that you realise it's just an uncomfortable chair, and you are no bigger than you were before you sit on it."
"The city is burning!" Jon exclaimed angrily.
"Visenya's Hill is burning." Luke rolled his eyes. "In a contained manner."
Jon scowled. "We had a plan. That plan was working."
"By spreading word of mouth?" The King scoffed. "By allowing the people to counter treason with words when their King hides away in his bedchamber sulking?"
"Yes!" Jon was raising his voice. "Better that than to destroy the home of the Faith!"
"The home of the Faith is Andalos, Jon." Luke shook his head. "A dead country now broken apart and controlled by Pentos. We have been there, you and I, and do you remember what we saw?" Jon didn't answer. "Hills, and ruins, and fuck all else! The Faith flit and move as they see fit. Before Baelor, it was the Starry Sept. Before that it was the Vale, and before that it was Essos!"
"You do not understand the gravity of what you have just done. To desecrate a holy site like that…"
"You aren't fucking religious!" Luke roared. "I know you, Jon. You don't give two shits about the Faith of the Seven."
"I care about you!" Jon roared back. "I understand the power that religion can wield over the minds of the many and I do not wish to see them unite against you! I have raised you, Luke. You were your own daughter's age when I was ordered by your brother to take you away and hide from the Usurper and his dogs. I clothed you; I fed you; I taught you everything I knew in the hopes that you would grow up a capable man. But this… this is not you. This is the type of plan that your father would have made, not the Lucerys that I know, and certainly not like Rhaegar would have…"
The comparison to his father made Luke's eyes narrow dangerously. "Of all the people to compare me to that man, I never expected you to do so." The King whispered icily, interrupting the Stormlander.
"I say what I must to help you." Jon stated. "We will have an uprising…"
"The Sept of Baelor was planned by men. It was built by men." Luke countered coldly. "Its replacement shall be the same. I shall fund it myself. But now the message will spread that those that dare rise up and spread filthy rumours about the King won't be met with words, nor negotiations. They shall be met with Fire and Blood."
Jon shook his head. "A dangerous sentiment, Your Grace. If you put your enemies to the sword enough, then sooner or later the number of swords against you will only grow. Maegor found that out…"
"Maegor didn't have to think about the end of the fucking world!" Luke exclaimed exasperatedly as he leant back in the Throne. "I do. If I cannot deal with an uprising on a hill, how can I expect to lead the entire continent against the White Walkers."
Jon stood firm. "By not resorting to the sort of actions your least popular ancestors performed, and instead looking to the examples of the ones that inspired loyalty…"
"Who else inspired loyalty more than the Dragon himself?" Luke raised an eyebrow. "Aegon, who conquered the entire land with 1,500 men…"
"He only had that few at the very start." Jon shook his head. "You are not Aegon, Luke. You are not Aenys, nor Maegor, nor Daeron the Good, nor your father. You are your own man, you do not need to look to history to find a better option, you need only look to yourself."
"I do not regret my actions, Jon." Luke sighed, his anger starting to dissipate.
Jon sighed. "I know that. But what happens from now will be crucial."
"My Kingsguard are leading the efforts to put out the fires and clear the rubble as we speak." Luke explained. "My criers are currently proclaiming to the population of the city that the Gods have granted me their favour with this swift victory, and come the morning ravens will fly to Oldtown with a message for the Most Devout, inviting them here to discuss how the Crown and the Faith move forwards."
"They will not be pleased with this destruction; they will seek recompense."
"And yet I could just as easily place blame upon them for choosing a High Septon who's proclivities started this entire mess in the first place." Luke shrugged. "Blame can be found anywhere if you look for it hard enough."
Jon sighed. "Very well. But please, make me a promise. In the future, talk to me. I am not trying to cast you aside, nor fight you. I am your servant as I always have been Luke, and my only goal in life is to allow you to rule happily and prosperously."
Luke slunk in his seat at the plea. "I will." He nodded. "We work best as a team, you and I. We always have done…"
The doors to the Throne Room opened, and Luke noticed Daenerys in the doorway pausing as she saw the occupants of the room. "I can come back…" She trailed off.
Jon shook his head. "No need, Princess. We are done here."
Luke nodded. "First thing tomorrow we shall meet and discuss what we do moving forward with the Council."
"As you say, Your Grace." Jon bowed his head for more than a few seconds, before looking up at Luke. "But you will get your arm checked out once again. You could have damaged it further."
Luke actually let out a laugh at the concern. "Of course, Lord Hand. The Princess shall escort me to his chambers immediately."
He rose out of the Iron Throne, actually feeling the pain in his shoulder for the first time that night, and he passed Jon once he descended the few stone steps as he walked over towards Daenerys, though despite the conversation and the warning, Luke would still find himself entranced by the burning men and the flames that he himself had caused until he drifted off to sleep later that night.
It was going to be a really short chapter until I remembered that we are very close to the time that Maester Aemon died. It's a sad scene for sure especially with Sam not there, but with Jon not sailing to Hardhome here it seemed even more fitting that he should be the one to say the eulogy. The power of fire was also a nice touch to add in a chapter so full of the stuff.
Finally, 47 chapters into the story and Luke is a dragon rider! It may seem like a long time but I try to keep my stories realistic with regards to the original show and we're close to the same time that Dany rode Drogon for the first time. I think my maiden flight here was slightly more deadly, but that's up for debate!
That scene with Luke burning the Sept was in my mind early on. I wanted a moment such as that one to both show the power of the dragons, and to stir the tensions between Princess and Queen, which is coming… It echoes Maegor too and I've drawn a lot from all kinds of Targaryen history.
The two following reactions were needed too. I'm laying it on thickly but it's important for the story to see the divide of ideals between Margaery and Daenerys. The last scene with Jon was also needed. These two have been through so much together and despite their current disagreements they really do care for one another.
Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Next Time: As the cold winds grow in the distant North, the King and Queen are forced to deal with the results of Luke's actions.
Reviews:
suppes1: Thank you! I'm cautious about the Snow series. It's not one I want and if it's just a Season 8 fix it then I'd honestly rather they left it alone and did some other stories. I almost included the dagger next chapter but it seemed to quick and abrupt, but Luke will wield it one day. As for the swords, it's easily explained away as Jaehaerys changing the pommel to appease the Faith, if you notice it's got a seven pointed star on it instead of the famous ruby.
Xman123: JonCon is trying to keep Luke alive in fairness, and he has earned some leeway because they have so much history. Luke was 19 in the first chapter and so had already been with Jon for 15 years.
Guest (reminded): Luke at that point has been filled with Milk of the Poppy and arguably isn't himself in the eyes of the Council, but them overstepping led directly to the dragon riding after all. Jon won't be stepping down, but they did have an open discussion here.
Guest (Daemon): I agree! Though Daemon is definitely a lot worse, he values Valyrian heritage.
C.E.W: A shame, but he was always going to jump on Valaxes eventually! The Faith are angry, and the next couple of chapters will be the fall out and resolution with them. I have other things planned with House Velaryon… and I won't spoil things with regards to Luke's relationship with the Walkers or the Valyrian Steel…
Guest (Restructuring): Not quite yet. They might have overstepped but Luke was still arguably on Milk of the Poppy and they have a reasonable case that they were acting in his own best interests.
El: Personally I think the knowledge was lost after the Dance of the Dragons or Baelor, only to be found again with Aerys I (Bloodraven's Aerys) before being lost at Summerhall, and then again with Rhaegar through reading whatever lost scrolls they found.
RHatch89: They're being cautious for sure, mainly because the struggles between the Faith and the Targaryen's are well known. You're right about HotD though.
Maksell: Firstly, thank you for the review! I'm glad you don't think I've messed up so far and that you've enjoyed the story! As for inputting an OC, it depends on who they are. I have every scene planned out briefly and so I won't be putting anybody in that doesn't actually fit any of them. Let me know in either a review or a PM with what you have in mind.
Guest (HOT D): No, and at the moment it's more of a book fic than a show fic anyway. Firstly I have the sequel to my Arryn story and a Harry Potter story that have chapters completed and the Dance story is nowhere near completed (I'm up to about 120 AC in the timeline).
Anaconda: I doubt it will be next if it ever comes. It's simply an idea at the moment, and until the plan is completed I don't want to commit to it.
Hail King Cerion: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it as there's plenty of drama to come!