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Author Note – I enjoy writing short stories for my own enjoyment but at a suggestion from a friend, I have decided to start posting some of my stories that I am working on or have completed. All feedback is welcome (hopefully constructive!) Looking forward to what you think!
"You have the blood of Old Valyria and that of the First Men, you are descended from the King of the Dragons and the King of the North. You have both the Blood of the Dragon and the Blood of the Wolf running in your veins. You are of both ice and fire. There is no else more capable and no one else who has the ability to do that of which we ask."
Jon Snow dropped to his knees in anguish.
"What have I done," he lamented, asking the empty destroyed room.
He dropped his bloody dagger as he cradled the body of Daenerys to his chest as he wept.
"What did we do? We saved everyone from the coming Winter and yet managed to become an even worse enemy to mankind. The people needed understanding and mercy not another tyrant. They need someone to lead them forward not control them. We had a chance for everything and now …it was all for naught."
At that moment, Jon heard the beat of wings from Drogon approaching the Red Keep and knew he might he might be taking his last breaths. Drogon flew through the gaping holes in the walls and landed on the floor. His weight cracking the floor, his breath immediately warming the room. With an intelligence in his eyes, that few would believe dragons possessed, Drogon took in the scene of Daenerys dead in the arms of Jon. Jon gently placed Daenerys on the ground before standing and taking a step towards Drogon, prepared to face death that he was positive he deserved.
After all, what truly was the fate for someone who killed the women he loved, what was the fate for someone who stood by and aided her in the slaughter of innocents, what truly was the fate in store for someone like him?
Drogon appeared to make up his mind, releasing a roar of anger and grief, unleashing fire across the room, though not at Jon but rather at the Iron Throne, the heat and intensity reducing it to slag in mere seconds.
The large dragon then proceeded to slowly make his way across the throne room before stopping in front of Jon, appearing to once again be deciding the fate of the insignificant individual in front of him. As quickly as a candle being blown out, the anger faded from the eyes of Drogon being replaced by sadness and …pity. He then slowly leaned down and picked up the body of his mother, turning around and taking flight. Leaving behind the cursed remains of the Red Keep and all that remained of Kings Landing.
Jon's shoulders slumped as he starred down at the dagger covered in the ruby red blood of the woman he had loved. Unable to make the effort to pick it up, unable to make an effort to leave the room, unable to do anything besides contemplate on how he had arrived in this exact moment. Unsure of how long he stood like that, Jon stayed, starring at the dagger.
"And alas, so ends the game of thrones." A scratchy voice said from behind Jon, causing him to spin around and draw his sword.
"There is no need for that boy, I mean you no harm and you possess not the means to cause me any." The figure stated bluntly, appearing to be unaffected by the sword now pointed in his direction.
"Who are you that managed to sneak upon me?" Jon declared refusing to lower his sword.
The figure paused before releasing a chuckle, "Who am I? This is a good question. I go by many names to many people, across many different realities but to you Jon Snow…you know me as "The Stranger". However, in this moment to you I come as a friend."
Jon laughed, "The Stranger? A farce, who are you for real? Otherwise, I shall run you through with this sword and help along your way to meet real The Stranger."
The man unhurriedly replied seemingly unaffected by Jon's threat. "I am what I stated. No more, no less. I was there to welcome your father when he was beheaded within this city, I was there to welcome your brother at his wedding, I was there to welcome your little brother when he was used as bait to lure you out, and I was there at the wall before the witch brought you back."
Jon paused, reappraising the man, "… how do you know all this. Even with rumors …How am I to believe you?"
"Whether or not you believe me is immaterial. I am here for another reason."
"Aye, if The Stranger you be. Then you must be quite happy with how the day has gone. So many dead, while I stood by and did nothing, only to then turn my hand and kill the woman I loved. Are you here to congratulate me for letting this happen or are you here out of anger for stopping Daenerys."
"Jon Snow, you misunderstand who I am. I am not happy with the death of innocence; I am merely a necessity of life. I welcome the weary, the sick, and provide them relief. I provide comfort to those who are suffering. Unlike man, I do not delight in the anguish of others nor do I seek to rush the ending of an individual's journeys, for in the end everyone visits death. Our meeting is inevitable.
Jon stared at this… stranger, "And is that what this is...Our inevitable meeting. Are you here to take me from this world?"
Death smiled at that, "while I was prepared to welcome you when you were killed at the Wall. This is not your time. The Gods have another plan for you."
"A plan for me?" Jon laughed. "What is it? To watch all I love and care for disappear before my eyes. To hear those that I cared about have died from the ravens, to watch that which I care for fall before my eyes, and to see those that I love die in my very arms. Is that your plan?"
The Stranger looked sadly upon Jon, "You have indeed lost much, Jon Snow. And it is for that reason, and the sake of humanity, that we are giving you a gift."
Jon looked up The Stranger questioning.
"Ay, we are giving you a gift, we are sending you back to before the War of Five Kings began."
Jon paused, his mouth open. Looking at the man before himself. "Surely you jest, no one has this power. That is impossible." Jon stated.
"There is much in this world that people believe to be impossible that is not. Before you saw a dragon, before you saw a giant would you have believed them to exist? You yourself came back from the dead, is that not impossible?"
Jon shut his mouth and thought on what this figure had said. "Alright then let us say I believe who you are…let us say you have this ability. Why send someone back, Winter is defeated, The Others vanquished. Westeros has surely suffered but the Game of Thrones is finished, surely people will build back."
"You are correct Jon Snow, The Others have been defeated but there is a worse evil out there than that. There is a darkness that approaches that even the Gods fear. And as of now, humanity has not the ability nor individuals with merit to fight off that of which is to come." For the first time since this conversation begin the individual displayed emotion in his voice and it greatly unnerved Jon that the emotion was fear.
"Then why me?" Uttered Jon simply.
At this question The Stranger offered a sad smile, "You have the blood of Old Valyria and that of the First Men, you are descended from the King of the Dragons and the King of the North. You have both the Blood of the Dragon and the Blood of the Wolf running in your veins. You are of both ice and fire. There is no else more capable and no one else who has the ability to do that of which we ask."
Jon took pride in what he heard. Finally coming to fully believe that the individual in front of him was indeed The Stranger, for indeed there were less than a dozen individuals who knew of his heritage. He solemnly looked at the figure once more, "I do not know if I am able to do what you ask of me. How am I to go back and watch all that I care about suffer again."
"Have you not been listening? We want you to go back and prepare the world. We want you to go back and make the changes you see need to be done. You will need to fight The Others again, but Westeros and indeed all of humanity will need to be in better shape to fight that which approaches."
Jon looked at The Stranger confidence and hardness in his eyes as he began, "Then I can do it, I will do as…"
The Stranger threw back his head with laughter as he interrupted, "What makes you think I was giving you a choice."
And with that he put his hand on Jon's forehead. Jon was initially surprised at the cold, even up north of the Wall he had never felt such cold. However, the feeling of cold disappeared as quickly as it appeared but left behind pain. This was pain unlike anything Jon had ever experienced, unlike anything he could have imagined. This was the type of pain that made a second feel like hours, and in this pain, Jon spent years.
And suddenly as if it had never been there, it disappeared. Jon tenderly opened his eyes and right in front of him looking up at him were small red eyes.
"Ghost…"
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