Credit to for his part in this chapter!

The forgotten dragon of death.

Nobody could ever ride him.

Nobody could ever tame him.

Many tried, and they were turned to ash.

They just left him be.

He was named one of the wild dragons

He was vicious.

People feared his wrath.

He left years ago…so long ago.

He was forgotten.

Jon Snow

"I heard krakens were there. big ugly fuckers," Yellow tooth said. The grey-haired man smiled, his yellow teeth prompting him for the given name.

The man next to him snorted. "You really believe in that piss?" He said in disbelief. The man's name was Joseph. He was tall and lanky with dyed green hair to boot, though he is good with an axe.

Yellow tooth shrugged. "This is Valyria we are talking about."

The five people on the ship were on deck. All of them in circle trading stories and such. The topic slowly but surely came to the dead capital of Valyria. A week had passed since the parting from Volantis. They were getting closer to where the doom transpired, and Jon could feel it in his harden bones.

As days passed, more and more fog formed. Every day, the fog builds with heightened intensity. Soon, there are going to nights where it's going to be complete darkness if there were no torches lighten. The crew hid their unease with some small talk, but Jon can see that they were nervous.

"Krakens are a myth," Joseph protested.

"I saw a Kraken once," Someone muttered a minute after.

Heads turned to see a man who wore a heavy fur cloak. The man's beard was long enough to touch his stomach and he was clearly muscled.

Gerry met their gazes. "It was a couple of years ago. My cousin and I were just sailing around the set sun sea. Just cruising, trying to catch some shellfish, nothing special." The others leaned in, captivated with the story.

"The ship suddenly rumbled, the sea was rippling. And the nastiest thing I saw in my life passed by. It was big. Its tentacles were the size of this bloody ship and the teeth are bigger than the lot of you. The Kraken didn't attack us. It just passed us by and went back under the water."

The crew stared at Gerry with shock. Tyrion shook his head and smiled. "I can detect bullshit if I ever hear one."

Gerry scowled at the imp. "I don't care what you think. I know what I saw." He looked to his hands, not meeting anyone's gaze.

"Your quiet, Snow," Yellow tooth said to prevent the silence.

Jon turned his eyes from Ghost and met Tooth's gaze. "What about it?" he replied shortly.

"What do you think about this?" The man replied as he motioned his hand to everyone and the ship.

Jon caught his meaning. "I think every single one of you is a crazy son of a bitch that needs to rethink your lives over," He said bluntly.

The only thing that broke the silence was the waters splashing against the ship. The fog is getting thicker now as the air was quiet.

"But I guess that I am a crazy son of a bitch too," Jon added with a slight grin.

The crew laughed well and hard, and even Jon granted them a full-blown smile.

Domeric Bolton

The heir of the Dreadfort looked down at his father on the floor as he held a sharp Dagger in his hands. Roose met his eyes with shock, and for once he finally showed emotion on that gaunt face as he held his chest. Domeric returned his stare with an indifferent one. Roose knew this was coming, yet he did nothing to stop it.

Domeric's pale blue eyes were cold."Our blades are sharp," He said simply.

Unexpectedly, Roose smiled. "Our blades are sharp," He repeated with a croaky voice. "Rule well my son." He then closed his eyes, and his body was lifeless.

"I will father," Domeric said to himself as he picked up a napkin that was on the table and cleaned his dagger. He is calm, not showing any distress or guilt at killing his father. Roose taught him the lesson when he was young after all. If he wanted to be the lord of the Dreadfort, he has to show his dagger was sharp as Bolton's motto or he would be disposed of. Fortunately, he made his father proud. Domeric didn't know what Roose would do if he refused to do the deed, but his father would probably bring his bastard brother in the equation to get rid of him. He should be gone too.

The maester, Walkan, entered the room and stopped short. Domeric turned around and examined the man, a placid expression on his face. The maester shifted on his feet and sweat formed on his forehead.

Domeric smiled cheerfully and approached the master."How are you doing Walkan?" he asked in a light voice.

Walkan stammered."Um...Ah…yes milord." His face now resembled a red tomato.

"That's good, wouldn't want something to happen to the castles maester, would I?" He said as he toyed with Walkan's chain with his dagger.

Walkan gulped. "No milord!" He said in a rush. He almost bit his tongue in the process.

"Lord Roose had an accident," Domeric whispered in Walkan's ear. He stepped back and peered at him. "What did I say?"

Walkan scrunched his face together, trying to recall because he knew his life was at stake."There was an accident."

"Who had an accident?"

"Lord Roose."

"Good." Domeric turned and looked at his father's body. "Have his body buried."

"Yes milord," Walkan said as he did his most effort to speed walk out of the room.

"Oh, and Walkan." The maester stopped and turned to look back at his new lord. "Have the men prepare for a hunt. Make sure to tell Ramsay he is going along as well."

Ned Stark

It is quiet.

Like it should be

Ned held the winter roses as he walked through the crypts. his face was lined with wrinkles by age and sadness.

It was dark aside from the burning torches. Ned stopped in front of a statue. The statue was a tall broad man with a thick beard with a great long sword resting carelessly on his left shoulder. The man was Brandon, his older brother. Ned swallowed the lump in his throat. Brandon died so young. Why did you have to be so reckless brother? The sick image of Brandon struggling to reach for his father while the rope tightens around his neck almost crashed Ned to his knees in grief.

He can't look at him anymore. Ned went on to the next statue: Rickard Stark. I have nothing to say. Ned thought with anger. His father's persistence to marry Lyanna to Robert caused this whole disaster. His sister pleaded against this so much that Brandon and Benjen joined in as well, But Rickard didn't listen. Ned's mother would have been so heartbroken.

Ned finally came in front of Lyanna. He looked at her carved face and gently placed the winter roses on her opened palm. she loved these. He reflected tenderly.

By the old gods and new, she was wild. Lyanna was never the one to do extremely well at stitching and wearing pretty dresses. His sister used to be more comfortable in boy clothes and a sword in her hand. She was so proficient with the weapon for a woman. Ned recalled the times Lyanna would render Benjen swordless and the way she sent the two squires running like they had wildfire on their asses. Ned chuckled.

His musings drifted to his daughter Arya. His mind shifted and he set his jaw in resolve. His father may have cast Lyanna away with his demands for her to be a proper lady, but not Arya. Not my daughter. Ned wheeled around and hustled his way out of the crypts.

…

"Do you wish to have a sword tutor Arya?" Ned asked at the dinner table. He could have had her practice with the boys under ser Rodrik, however, it is more fitting if Arya can train by herself, unlike Lyanna who had to sneak out of lessons to even touch a wooden sword.

Arya looked up from her plate. "Yes! Thank you, father!" She provided him with a beaming smile. Ned hadn't seen Arya smile like that since Jon left.

The image of Jon brutally killing men effortlessly while his amethyst eyes glittering with glee made Ned place his hand on the table to brace himself. And he noticed some things. Bran face was twisted with jealousy. Robb just looked amused. Rickon is confused. Theon is still eating. Sansa and Catelyn looked disapproved.

"A lady should not be running around holding swords, Ned," His wife said while frowning at him.

"And a boy shouldn't be climbing," Ned returned with his attention on his food.

Bran dropped his head in embarrassment while his siblings sniggered at him. Catelyn continued to frown at Ned. "I tried my hardest to make Arya a proper la-

"If she doesn't want to be a lady, she doesn't have to," Ned responded sternly.

Ned looked at his wife hard as she was just about to argue further. Catelyn sealed her lips when she realized she is not going to win the spar with words. She nodded stiffly and started eating again. Across the table, Arya was boasting to a sullen Bran and was rubbing it in his face with joy.

Ned grinned.

It was the right thing to do.

Lyanna would be proud.

Jon Snow

"Tyrion… where the hell are we?" Jon asked as he counted to 100 and back to soothe his nerves for everyone's sake.

There is nothing to be seen beyond the water. You couldn't see shit. White-grey mist is the only thing visible for miles, surrounding the carrack like a pack of hungry wolfs. The ominous mist concealed anything and it reminds Jon of a storm cloud. This morning, the crew awoke to be quickly shocked to their core. Jon didn't want to admit it, but this scared him shitless. Jon knew what this means. They couldn't see, which means they don't know where the fuck they were was going.

Jon schooled his face and looked at Tyrion. The crew nodded their heads while they stared expectedly at Tyrion, with a faint touch of fear on their faces.

Tyrion Rubbed his stubble, contemplating. "There were no records that suggested this would happen. I am surprised. I have to say that I'm clueless like the rest of you," He said warily.

The crew, except Jon, grew furious and spat accusations at the dwarf while they clutched their personal weapons tightly.

"What do you mean you're fucking clueless?!"

"God damn it, Lannister! you should know this!"

"We are going to die here!"

Yellow tooth ended this squabble by taking his dagger from his cloak. "This is your fault Lannister! I think a good way to redeem that is to cut your little dwarf's dick and stick it in your little dwarf's mouth!" He moved towards Tyrion with his blade raised.

Jon stepped in his path, protecting Tyrion from potential death. Inside, Jon is rendered speechless at the demeanor of the crew. These cunts knew where we are heading and what's at stake, but they all agreed to come along anyway. And now they are bitching?! They seriously thought that sailing to Valyria is not going to have a setback?!

Yellow tooth grunted. "Get out the way Snow," He ordered.

Jon wordlessly shook his head.

Yellow tooth's eyes flickered uncertainly. He debated if he can take on the famed 16-year-old and if he will come out alive which is slim.

Tyrion coughed loudly behind Jon. "I will repeat myself. I did not know this is going to happen. I am sorry."

"Saying sorry is not going to make this better imp," Joseph spat.

Tyrion nodded, but he also wore a slight grin."I know. It was the most polite thing to say in this shithole," He said half-jokingly.

The scowls intensified and Yellow tooth growled. "Shut your mouth dwarf. I hate the piss that comes spilling out your tongue."

Tyrion slightly shrugged. "If you have a father like mine, then the insults you are childishly calling doesn't have any merit on me. I'm sorry about that too."

Yellow tooth ignored this and went on. "We don't know where we are! Are we even heading to bloody Valyria?!" he shouted.

"Obviously you don't know your history," Jon spoke in a low voice, eyes peeled on something in the mist.

Eyes drifted from Tyrion to Jon. Yellow tooth glowered at the bastard. "What did you say, boy?" He demanded.

Jon tore his eyes from the fog and met the man's gaze. "Don't call me a boy again," Jon warned silently, his face placid. His hand was already on the hilt of his sword.

Tyrion hurriedly interrupted before a blood bath occurred. "What Snow mean's…" He said as he pointed outside the carrack where the waters were clapping against the hull. "Is that the waters are boiling. We are somewhere in the smoking sea," Tyrion explained grimly.

The crew gasped and went to the side of the deck to eye the waters themselves. Tyrion spoken truly, the water is boiling. Medium sized bubbles, the width, and length of a fireball blinked in and out from the surface. Some areas the water is normal, where others popped.

"Holy shit," Gerry said in amazement as he leaned in more. The others sluggishly nodded, dumbstruck.

Gerry leaned in too close.

Suddenly, a bubble doubled in size and burst. Gerry screamed as he held his face and rolled on the floor. Jon and the others jumped back in surprise, not knowing how to help. Gerry clobbered the wooden floor as he wailed in misery. At length, he finally stilled.

Ghost hurried from under the deck and circled the corpse. His muzzle took one sniff and the huge direwolf huffed and ran to Jon.

The crew stared at the dead body of Gerry. Tyrion eyes narrowed. Joseph is gulping. Yellow tooth is oddly quiet. On the ship it was mute.

Jon cautiously approached the corpse, ears twitching in alertness for any danger. Jon touched the shoulder with firmness and rolled the body over. Immediately, the strong stench hit Jon and the bastard covered his nose as his lilac eyes widen in shock.

Gerry's face is unrecognizable and for a good reason. Several patches of skin were burned off. His lips were being scalded. Eyebrows torched and…eyeballs no longer there.

Gerry's face still blistered with intolerable heat.

Jon backed stepped and held his mouth to prevent the rise of bile that formed in his throat. The crew stared longer than what was necessary at the body. They were spooked at the gruesome face and the sudden death of one of the crew members that sailed with them for weeks.

Tyrion licked his lips while he rubbed his hand through the thick fur of Ghost, trying to organize his troubled mind.

"Well, who is going to throw him overboard?" Tyrion asked dryly.

…

James Strickland slashed his wooden sword with all his might at the shifty form. It proved to be useless. Jon kept moving. James roared and crashed the sword on Jon's shield. The force of the blow clipped pieces of wood off Jon's protection. Jon twisted and lifted the shield right to the Strickland's unguarded face.

James landed on the ground and glared hatefully at Jon. There was a deep gash on his upper-forehead. Jon smirked back at him, enjoying whooping the ass of the cocky Strickland who challenged him.

At the feet of Jon, multiple men groaned in pain that was delivered by Jon. The smirking bastard stood proudly as the onlookers looked at him with respect.

The commander of their sub-division peered at him approvingly. "What did you say your name was, boy?"

"Jon Snow."

"So, Snow," The commander said as he walked around Jon, inspecting him curiously. "Are you capable of showing this skill set in battle?"

Jon nodded confidently. "Yes."

The man then stopped in front of him, a cruel smile creeping on his face. "Are you willing to spill the blood of our enemies in the honor of Bittersteel?

Jon gulped in apprehension. Could he really kill a man in cold blood? Jon, a second later, removed the thought with a sneer. This is why he came here. It for a chance to be more than a bastard.

Jon met his commander's eyes. "Yes."

...

The mood was dark and the air was grim on the deck. Yellow tooth was running a whetstone down the length of his sword. Joseph is going through his movements with his dual axes. Tyrion was reading his thick book with intentness.

"Are we going to die here?" Joseph asked out loud. The man tucked his axes away and seated himself down.

Tyrion looked up from his book and watched the green-head man. "There is a high chance of that happening."

Jon snorted. "What's our chance that we are going to complete this trip while staying alive?" Tyrion didn't answer and turned back to reading his book.

Jon took his silence as an answer and decided to change the topic. "Where are your men?" Jon asked.

When Tyrion frowned his eyebrows, Jon became more specific. "You're a Lannister. It's only right that you have men assigned to help you from Casterly rock." Jon said.

Tyrion shook his head and Jon scoffed."Doesn't your father know you are going to do this shit?"

Tyrion closed his book and searched through his bag for another one. "Yes, he sure does," He said cryptically.

Jon stared at him confused. "Then why don't you-"

"He doesn't care."

Jon bit his tongue in shock. he grimaced and rolled his tongue to cleanse the blood. "He doesn't care?" Jon repeated slowly. What's that supposed to mean?

Tyrion's chuckle was humorless. "My father never cared for me as he did for my brother and sister. To him, I wasn't worth a single Lannister soldier. To his mind, I am a bastard."

Jon ran his knuckles against his thick beard. "You are not a bastard. you're a true born son of Tywin Lannister. I don't understand what you are trying to say."

Tyrion stared at Jon with indifferent eyes. "All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes," He said without an ounce of emotion in his voice.

Not able to handle the dwarfs gaze any longer, Jon turned his head to the sounds of claws on the flooring of the deck. Ghost crept towards Jon with his ears raised up. The direwolf howled and the cry of the direwolf slit through the hushed vessel. The crew was rigid as they stared at the wolf.

"What's the matter, boy?" Jon asked, concerned. Ghost rarely made any sounds, and howling is on another level. Jon peered into his bright red eyes and Ghost met his gaze with his own intelligent ones. His ruby eyes were alarmed. Okay, something is wrong. "What's out there?" Jon asked quietly.

Ghost responded by sprinting to the head of the ship and howling again. The wolf glanced at Jon and back to the misty fog ahead of them.

Joseph laughed. "There is nothing wrong, Snow. Your wolf just wants to get off this boat." The man eyed the distressed wolf with amusement.

Yellow tooth stayed quiet as he focused on his sword. On the other hand, Tyrion watched the direwolf with interest. "He is trying to warn us," Tyrion suggested.

Yellow tooth shot this down. "It does not do that, direwolf or not," He said as he brought the sword to his face to inspect it.

Jon kept his attention on Ghost, the direwolf stared at him with pleading. Jon squints his eyes to view through the fog, Goosebumps ripping through his arms. Minutes passed with Jon staring at a wall of greatness. He was just about to give up when he caught a brief sight of a long tentacle amid the fog. It was hard to pick it out, but he damned sure saw it. Jon's eyes widen and he rushed over to the wheel. The others glanced at him in surprise at this sudden move.

"What the fuck, Snow?" Joseph asked as Jon steered the ship in wide left. "What got up in your arse?" He added, perplex at the behavior of the bastard.

Jon's arms shook as he let go of the wheel. He slowly turned his head and met the prying eyes of his crew members. "Trust me…" Jon started to move to the stairs leading to underneath the deck. "It was the right thing to do." He stepped down the flight of stairs with Ghost prowling at his side.

Once he was alone, Jon pressed his shaky arms on the door of his room and pushed it open. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it with a shaky breath escaping his mouth. Jon sat there for a second to calm his beating heart and smiled tightly at Ghost who was staring at him intensely. He is a friend that I couldn't ever replace, ever.

Jon rubbed Ghost white-boned fur. "Thanks, buddy," He murmured. Jon failed to keep his arms from shaking. He saw the proof with his own lilac eyes. Tyrion and the others will not take his word seriously. Their words to Gerry established that they would think he was mad and throw him in the waters; Waters that held deep-unknown creatures that lurked about. Jon stared at his hands. Going along with Tyrion was a fucking mishap that is going to do more harm than good. Jon thought his scars taught him to have a more common sense and to keep him alive.

I saw a bloody kraken. Jon thought hollowly as he recalled long-slimy tentacles that rivaled the size of the very same vessel Jon is sailing on and a great body that equaled dozen-war ships.

…

A strong punch turned Jon's head to the side. He kicked his legs uselessly at his attacker, but with two men holding him by the arms, he just has to take the beating. The two men smiled, happy at the chance to bring punishment to the bastard for embarrassing them in the training grounds.

James Strickland smirked with joy as Jon spat another mouthful of blood. "Do you like that bastard?" He asked as he cocked back his fist for another blow.

Jon smirked right back at him while supporting a black eye and said, "Go on do it. You punch like a bitch, and this is nothing to me." He spits in James face without hesitation.

James growled and brought his fist towards Jon's face.

…

Yells and shouts jerked Jon out of his slumber. Ghost jumped out the bed and gazed at the door where the sounds were coming from with his ears upwards with alarm. Jon's vision was hazy with sleep as he drowsily looked around the room for the cause of the noise. He realized it was coming from the deck and ran for the door. Oh gods…please not that squid!

Jon climbed up the flight of the stairs and was awarded with the sight of Yellow tooth rapidly steering the wheel as Joseph screamed him on. Tyrion paced the deck furiously as he gripped the sides of his head.

Tyrion took notice of him and waved him over with breakneck speed. Jon walked briskly to him and asked, "What the hell is going on!?" He demanded loudly.

Tyrion said no words and pointed up ahead. Jon followed his finger and gasped. A large outline of a mountain was seen through the fog. The form is getting clearer and clearer as the white-grey fog slowly dissolved as they got nearer. Jon recognized the problem. No matter how much they turned, the silhouette got wider and wider…and they were heading right towards it.

"Come on!" Jon screamed to the back of Yellow tooth. "Keep steering!" He was joined in by Tyrion and Joseph

Yellow tooth stunk of sweat as he swiftly continued pumping his arms. "I'm trying!" He grunted back. They were still in the line of sight with the hidden form.

"Do you want to die?" Tyrion shouted. Yellow tooth tiredly shook his head in no."Then I guess you want to live! Steer!"

Yellow tooth did one more rotation with the wheel and the form of the mountain disappeared to the side. The crew shouted in joy, but it then turned into gasps as the ship unexpectedly hit the rough surface of the land. The vessel shuddered and Jon was knocked off his feet, his back hitting the wooden side of the deck that took the breath out of his lungs. Jon took deep gasps as he held his aching side and got to his feet. Beside him, the others did the same too. They stared. They stared long and hard at the sight that lay upon their awe-filled gazes.

The loathsome fog that caused the crew dread for days was now gone.

Jon held his breath as he eyed the blacken, crumbled buildings, and the scorching of the cracked and broken rocks and boulders that rested on high cliffs that made Jon crane his neck in order for him to see. Trees were snapped in half as darkened leaves and branches lay on the deep green grass. Jon spun around and realized that they were just standing on one of the many islands that floated in this region. The sky was covered in unnaturally stormy, grey clouds and…the air-instead of being the expected chill…it was humid…it was hot.

Far…far…far in the distance Jon detected an island where a triangle-shaped form stood high. It was dark-ebony with ash seeming to be stuck in the air around it and a ring of red-molted draped around its tip.

A stream of fire or lava flew out its mouth and the earth trembled…

Jon fell on his ass, but his eyes were still on the quaking form. The lava streaked up in the air and went through the dark grey clouds. Before long the lava plummeted to the waters, it boiled with furious heat and bubbles appeared. The remaining lava that somehow did not fall in the water is trailing down the triangular form.

It was a volcano.

Jon fought to keep his breathing under-raps as he kneeled down. The others were rooted in the ground-wonder and fear colored their haggard faces.

Tyrion stepped up to his side. The shock was still on his face as he regarded the volcano in the distance. "That's a volcano," He exclaimed.

Joseph and Yellow tooth, still shaking, stood next to them. Joseph coughed in his fist. "If my head is thinking right, isn't all the volcano's supposed to be surrounding the main city of Valyria. In fact, didn't they all explode?" He asked as he looked to Tyrion for answers.

The dwarf just shrugged, having no ideas to this mystery. Tyrion rolled his head side-to-side to cease the stiffness in his neck. "The records must have been muddled with time, and with time everybody forgets it is a lie."

"We are in Valyria," Jon said hoarsely.

Tyrion looked somewhat hesitate to agree with that. "No." Tyrion shook his head. "Judging by the absence of the crumbled volcano's, we are still heading to it. However…" Tyrion looked back at the volcano. "We are close."

Yellow then joined in."Well, we are not going to stand around and do nothing, let's go!" The man got off the ship and landed on the ground. Old dust and ash sprang upwards as Jon followed the man. he waved in front of him as he coughed at being exposed to the chemicals. The crew looked around the destruction around them before heading to the wreckage of the burnt towers and buildings.

…

Jon stared amazed at the sights as he walked with the others through the small island. everything seemed to reach out to him, and Jon felt a pull on his mind that he couldn't understand. Like he shouldn't ever leave. Ghost sniffed everything that came to pass. trees, branches, and boulders. As they walked, trees and snapped trees dominated the space on the island.

"What's that?" Yellow tooth suddenly said, attracting the attention of Jon. To the left, with piles of trees in the way, was a collapsed building. It was likely a fortress before the doom took place. To Jon, the pull was stronger than ever, and he can't resist it. Jon strode ahead of the others and approached the ruined fortress.

Jon frantically searched for the entrance because the pull was too strong to ignore. Eventually, he found a dark-hidden hole. It was only big enough for a child to crawl through but Jon made it work. He was desperate to find out the force that is drawing him in.

"Snow wait! Don't just go rushing in!" Tyrion shouted in warning. Jon kept crawling.

It was pitch-dark.

Jon breathed loudly as the air got harder to inhale. After a few more grueling moments of crawling in the darkness, he was free.

Jon stood in a great-hall of some sort. He craned his head to see the room looking like it was about to come crashing on his head, so Jon quickly moved out the way to another room. Suddenly, the pull came back again, and this time in greater force. Jon's feet were moving without his command like somebody was controlling his body with strings. Jon couldn't see but somehow knew where he is going, he was not nervous but was down-right scared to bits on how this was happening.

Jon took another step and the floor gave out beneath him. He screamed as he fell through. The whooshing of air flapped his hair and nicked his ears as he continued to decline to the unknown. Jon yelled with all his voice cord can offer. After what seemed to be an eternity, his back landed on the rough ground.

Jon didn't get the time to groan in pain as the unknown force was in work with his body again. Jon got up and went on to walk once more. He figured he was walking in a hallway when he took a sharp right to a thick oak door. Jon gasped at the familiar sight of the Targaryen sigil on the old-dusty door. He turned the handle and stepped in the room to be blinded by a glare.

The pull that was controlling him had faded away but the bright glare hadn't. Jon grunted in anger and rolled out of the way to put out the light from his eyes. Jon crouched on the ground as he forcibly closed his eyes to get rid of the stinging that throbbed.

His eyes opened.

And widen in shock and amazement.

No steel should look like that.

No steel should shine like that.

And no steel should have a sharp edge like that.

Oh, gods…its Valyrian steel.

…

Jon was forced to his knees by the bigger man. The man smirked at him, saying no words because he couldn't. Yellow tooth and Joseph lay dead on the ground five feet away, slashes across their throat. Tyrion was next to Jon and the dwarf glared at the men that caught them by surprise. The valyrian sword that Jon found moments ago was picked up by a random person who gazed at it with awe. Jon scowled at the man. That was his sword, and he was the motherfucker who found it, not them. Those cunts that can't even speak.

In one motion, the rows of men shifted aside and a lone man strolled up to the two. The man was tall wore a set of armor that shone even if it was pure black. He had two swords around his waist and finally…he wore an eye patch that hung over his left eye while the other eye was a cloudy-grey. An eye that was now evilly gazing at the bastard and the imp.

"What do we have here?" The man asked grandly. "Besides myself, I never knew someone who crossed the smoking sea and coming out alive before.

Jon growled. "Who the fuck are you?!" he asked, furiously. Just when things were looking good, these cunts arrived out of thin air and fucked the joyful mood up its ass.

The man observed Jon carefully, and his long hair that reached his shoulders gave him an image of a raider. The man slowly smiled. "Well nice meeting you too, Jon Snow…" He paused and pulled back his eye patch. Jon and Tyrion were stunned into silence at the swirling mad blue maze of his eye.

"I am Euron Greyjoy," He said, stunning the pair even more than what was possible. Euron grabbed Jon's Valyrian sword and admired it for a second. He turned back to Jon. "Before you die…I want you to feast your eyes as I bind a dragon under my control…would you like that?"