What's up guys! Let me know what you think of this chapter, enjoy! And note that Jon snow is 16, not 18. That was my mistake.
Jon Snow
Patience is a virtue.
Jon realized this from the moment he held a wooden sword as he clashed with Robb in the courtyard. Nine out of ten, Robb used to dominate him in every way possible. Jon pondered why, why the heir of winter had bested him time and time again. One day, when Ned stark usually stood and watched them spar from the balcony, he walked over and pulled Jon to the side and whispered in his ear. Robb had been smirking at the whispering pair and lazily flexed his arms at their siblings that spent their time observing the spar. Arya had crossed her arms and pouted in disappointment. Theon had a full-blown grin on his face. Sansa clapped politely. Bran watched with bated breath. Rickon placed his thumb in his mouth and drooled.
Robb egged him on when Jon finished talking to father. The red-brown head held his sword confidently, thinking his words with father had been for naught. Faster than what everybody expected, Jon smacked Robb's sword aside and brought him to the ground. From that day on, Jon won every spar to the displeasure of the Greyjoy and Lady Stark.
His time as a commander for the golden company enhanced that perk. Jon was respected and known as a person who is calm in front of the impossible. His experience and his scars were a guide book that saved his neck from the sharp edge of an Arakah.
During his touring of Essos Jon formed a code. It was a set of rules to survive this harsh reality. One: always be on your guard. Two: don't trust anybody. Three: constant vigilance. Four: don't panic.
At this moment that code is being pushed to its absolute limits. Jon didn't know how long he spent on this ship but he just waited for the opportunity to escape.
It never came.
Jon sat against the wooden wall of Euron's ship, chained. The rotten smell of dead bodies and other unknowns compelled Jon to puke through his miserable time on this ship. Several times, the puke ending up being on his clothes that reeked for weeks.
There was folks chained with him, but Jon didn't regard them as normal.
They did not talk.
Nor did they try to.
Warlocks and mongrels were chained just like Jon. Jon yelled and screamed at them but it was worthless. They stared astray at nowhere, absent of everything. The consistent sight of their sewed lips paused Jon's ability to think or talk.
Tyrion was not underneath the deck with him. The crow's eye placed him on another ship, wary of Jon and the dwarf forming a plan that may topple him. The ship is too silent for Jon's taste. There were muffled sounds outside of the area, something Jon does not want to see. Without Tyrion's running mouth Jon was used to…the silence is unbearable. To add to this, Jon was tortured daily with whips that he never saw before. It was lined with tiny but sharp spikes that sent tremors of pain down his back. Jon always fought back, But the beating increased with every protest, so he accepts the torture in the prospect it will end quickly. What else could he do?
Jon thrust his head in his hands angrily. This is becoming too much for the bastard. The silence, the tortures, the mystery muffled sounds on deck, the possibility of him getting his lips sewed…it was too much to bear. Ghost presence next to him calmed him slightly. Three men died trying to subdue the direwolf but eventually, Ghost ended up chained as well.
Jon was sick of it.
With each passing day, he felt his sanity slipping.
His mind was swirling into depths that captivated him in his solitude.
Jon hated this ship. He hates the damned Valyria. He hates the mute beings that stood upon this vessel. And most of all…he hates Euron fucking Greyjoy.
He screamed but there was still silence.
Aegon
"You will marry Margaery Tyrell the next moon, Aegon," Rhaegar informed him with the stern.
The king solar was decorated with Targaryen colors of red and black, it was thoughtfully placed about with a single lone silvery harp propped in the corner.
Elia Martell was a beautiful woman and no longer as frail as she was years ago. With the death of the mad king, her health has improved tremendously. The mad king's ravings often left her scared and afraid for her children's safety but that soon passed. Her sun-kissed skin, delicate and nice dress, her dark brown hair and brown eyes that were now narrowed at her son Aegon as she sat next to Rhaegar.
Aegon frowned and gripped his armrest "No," He said stubbornly. He does not want to nor will he.
Rhaegar raised one silver eyebrow "This is an order, Aegon," He said softly, with a brief hint of a warning underneath.
"I don't want to marry her," Aegon growled. Margaery is not the woman he loves. it's another, however, Rhaegar rebuts his desires with a hard look of those sad lilac eyes.
Rhaegar intertwined his long fingers and settle it on his desk. "This is not for you to change son. it's past due time you match with a betrothal. I allowed you to not have your match longer than what is necessary. The time is up Aegon."
Aegon shook his head in denial. "Why does it have to be her?" He asked lowly. He met the Tyrell before at a tourney here in kingslanding. Margaery is not a bad woman, and she was far from it. Instead, she shows off. The Tyrell knew she is going to marry the crowned prince, and she subtly rubs it in lords and ladies faces. When Aegon is around her, he feels like he is going to suffocate with piles of flowers. He despises this.
Rhaegar leaned on the desk. "You know why. The Tyrells are still seeking to be rewarded for their loyalty with the capture of Storms end," He said softly. He has been saying this to Aegon countless times to the point the prince can memorize the exact words that were said with ease.
Aegon did not buy this. "They did nothing!" He finally yelled and stood from his seat to tower over his father. "They ate and feasted in front of that damn castle! The only reason Stannis yielded is because of Roberts's death! The fat flower sat on his ass! That's all!" His enraged voice echoed in the room.
Aegon went on with vengeance. "You want me to marry off to someone I don't want to marry but you don't do that to Rhaenys do you?!"
Elia said. "Don't speak to your father in that way." She gave him a hard look. "Let Dany go. This has to end, Egg," She pressed. Aegon shook his head quickly.
Rhaegar slowly stood up. Father and son were the exact same height and for that, they were standing brow-to-brow, eye-to-eye.
Rhaegar spoke softly but with authority that comes with being a king. "You are my son, the crown prince of the seven kingdoms. It is your duty as such."
Aegon replied with heat. "This is not fair. I love Dany!" He clenched his fist tightly.
Rhaegar remained poised and responded. "I know. You are, however, the next line to the throne when I am gone. There are going to be sacrifices along the way, Ageon. We don't always get what we want."
Aegon became rigid and a cloud of red filled his vision. His father has no right to say that, and so he is a hypocrite. "Did you ever thought about that when you ran off with Lyanna?" he asked harshly.
The left side of Ageon's cheek flared in pain, and he gasped. He looked around, slightly dazed to what happened until he realized he was lying on the floor. His father had hit him.
Aegon stared up at his father in shock. For the length of his life, his father never laid a hand on his children. Rhaegar doing so now had Aegon tight-lipped as he held his stinging cheek.
Rhaegar appeared to have lost his cool as he looked down at his son, and his purple gaze was on fire. "You have the gall to mention this, in my face?" Rhaegar inched closer to Aegon as if to strike him again. Lucky for Aegon, Elia rushed from her seat and placed a warm hand on Rhaegar's arm.
"Calm down, Rhaegar. He wasn't thinking, " Elia said soothingly. She ran her slender fingers in a circle on his back for more effect and leaned her head on his shoulder.
Rhaegar breathed in and out from his nose as his anger waned. Aegon was still laying on his back as he gazed at his father in astonishment, afraid of setting off his anger again if he somewhat moved.
Rhaegar's anger faded, and Elia moved from him and walked forward to help Aegon back on his feet. The king of Westeros glanced at Aegon and said. "Daenarys and your grandmother will sail back to Dragonstone. Dany is allowed to come back to the red keep after your wedding with Margaery Tyrell." Rhaegar paused and watched his red-faced son. "This affair with Dany will go no further. I mean it. You will do your duty." Rhaegar stepped around his desk and sat in his chair. "You may leave."
Aegon stiffly nodded and shrugged off his mother's embrace and went towards the door. Not wanting to get his father's satisfaction in seeing him rage, he calmly closed the door behind him.
Aegon panted in anger. He grasped his silver hair as he almost had the urge to tear it from the roots of his head. Dany is the only woman he loved, and the only one he could love. Being restricted from her is excruciating as it was cruel. He, Rhaenys and Dany grew up together and played together. At a certain age, Aegon and Dany formed feelings that weren't appropriate for nephew and aunt. They did not care because they were Targaryens.
He had to see her.
"My prince," Arthur said quietly, "Are you ill?"
Aegon stared at his guard in confusion then realized he had been standing in the same spot for a couple of minutes. Servants passed by in the halls and sent him weird and odd looks as they walked around him.
Aegon forced a smile on his face. "Yes, I'm alright Arthur."
Arthur didn't seem convinced, but he kept his opinion to himself and nodded in return. Aegon turned around and wiped the fake smile of his face as he strode towards his destination.
Aegon just turned another corner before his vision was blurred by a string of silvery hair. Rhaella Targaryen smiled at him, her poster was tense and Aegon saw right through her bright smile. Oswell Whent took guard behind her protectively.
"Hello, Aegon," His grandmother greeted.
"Hello," Aegon replied a bit impatiently. He had to see Dany and his grandmother stood in his path.
Rhaella smile then disappeared and she set her face into a frown, wrinkles barely noticeable with her pale skin. Rhaella is an old women, but she can still make men kneel and proclaim about her beauty. Her black dress compliments her light lilac eyes.
"You are going to see Daenerys," Rhaella stated oddly.
"Yes, I am," Aegon said shortly. "If you excuse me." He stepped to the side only to be mirrored by his grandmother. Oswell watched from his position grimly, and his normally playful eyes were overtaken by pity.
Aegon groaned underneath his breath and waited for her to explain. Rhaella crossed her arms and stared at him, her face still in a frown.
"Grandmother," Aegon prompted gently with a touch of annoyance.
"Let her go Egg," She said at last.
Aegon scowled. you know what? I hate that phrase. "What do you mean?" Deep down, he knew.
Oswell opened his mouth but Rhaella waved her hand and the men grew silent. The old woman glanced at him sadly. "She is gone."
She is gone? Dread unsettled his stomach. "What?" He asked in a rush.
"The docks," Was the simple answer.
…
Aegon pushed past folks that chatted in the roads. Mutters and curses reached his ears as he hurriedly sped to the docks. Arthur did his best to match his pace, but his heavy golden armor and his flapping white cape slowed him down tremendously and he was soon caught up in the crowd.
Space became wider and Aegon caught the sight of the blue water and a cluster of men and women…and Rhaenys. Aegon strolled up beside her and stared ahead. There were ships sailing, but Aegon peeled his anguished eyes on the one that stood out. A small ship sailed away and a banner of house Targaryen flapped in the air. On deck, Dany's eyes met his and her's widen in shock. She hesitantly waved at him with a mournful smile, tears threaten to escape those purple eyes. Aegon didn't wave back and instead looked at his feet. After a moment, he looked back up and she was gone, back into the deck out of view.
Aegon's throat tightened, it was too soon. His wedding was a moon away. She could have stayed longer. Why did she leave? Aegon was informed by his father that Dany will be sailing with grandmother, but it was smashed down like the possibility of fulfilling his dreams of her being his wife.
Rhaenys hugged Aegon from the side and whispered in his ear. "It's okay Egg. Its okay."
It wasn't.
"Let her go," Rhaenys whispered.
Aegon hated that damned phrase more than anything.
"Maybe you will come to love Margaery. Anything can happen, Egg."
Aegon could never love her like he how loved Daenerys.
"I don't care what happens dany, will you stay by my side?"
"Aegon, I will never leave you."
But she did.
Rhaegar
The Targaryen family and the kingsguard rested in the solar of the king. Rhaenys sat next to Aegon and laid a supportive hand on his thigh. The crown prince had his eyes on the floor as he kept to himself gloomy. Eila as always, sat next to Rhaegar and Rhaella. The king's guard bowed to the king and exited the room gracefully.
"She left?" Rhaegar asked softly but with a twinge of surprise. Rhaenys nodded slightly in confirmation. Rhaegar glanced sideways to Aegon to see the prince didn't twitch or move in response.
"Aegon," Elia called out. Aegon didn't move. "Egg." He still didn't move.
"Aegon," Rhaegar called strongly. The prince raised his head and glanced at him with a bit of redness in his eyes. "Dany did what is for the best, son."
"Ok."
"When you are older and a king yourself, you will understand."
"Ok."
"You will do your duty to the realm."
"You've already said that."
Rhaegar narrowed his eyes. The boy's attitude is unfitting for his station as a prince. He has to get his act together.
His pondering was cut off by Jaime Lannister as he opened the door and popped his head in. Tywin Lannister's unwillingness to join the Targaryen's in the war against the usurper caused Rhaegar to form a punishment that will leave the old lion seething in Casterly Rock. Letting Jaime stay in the kings guard was that punishment. Tywin had expectations towards his golden boy, to be the heir, all of it ruined with the words that came out from the mouth of Rhaegar. With Jaime in the kings guard and Tyrion Lannister's location unknown, Tywin is forced to take what he has in Joffreyy Lannister, a slow boy.
"Varys comes with urgent news my king," Jaime said.
"Let him in." Rhaegar sat up in his seat. It was not often the spider will intrude on a family gathering.
Jaime opened the door wider and took a step back to let Varys enter; the green-eyed man closed the door behind him. Varys walked to the middle of the solar and bowed to the king.
"What did you gather?" Rhaegar asked melancholy.
"The most unfortunate news your grace," Varys replied grimly. The Targaryen's perked their heads up at this.
Rhaegar waved him to continue and Varys paused then continued. "Lys, Tyrosh and Myr declare war, your grace."
Euron greyjoy
Euron raised his hands to the sky and laughed hysterically, his eye stared place to place as he swayed happily on his feet; his blue-stained lips quivered in joy as he held a long bottle that contained inky and the smellly beverage. Images of the past that long since passed and the future that had yet to come. Euron saw millions of silver-head folks stare up in horror as large shapes darted across the sky and cast shadows that covered the whole earth. He saw an enormous wall of ice being formed from a frosty breath from above. He saw a land that was covered in trees and wildlife with giant wyrms that slowly turned to ice and snow and death. A sword in the darkness was lit with a light so bright it sent dead corpses fleeing, the giants undead, ice spiders big as hounds, the others and the night king. The sword sent them all fleeing.
Euron saw many different scenarios that would have shaped the whole world. A big man in yellow and black armor with antlers on his helm smashed a heavy war hammer to another man who wore Rubies that shattered and scattered to the rushing waters of the trident. A pretender with silver hair and behind him elephants pounding their trunks in the dirt. Kingslanding exploding in a great color of green. A dying dragon falling into ice as an icy spear made of the coldest frost was plunged into its side. And there was him…
Jon Snow.
Eyes the color of amethyst, dark-brown hair, silver-hair with grey eyes or the hair of the Starks and their grey eyes. It matters little, it was still him. These scenarios all connected and trace to the bastard. Flying a dragon, wielding a flaming sword, warging, destroying the night king.
Becoming the night king.
Snow isn't a bastard after all. And Euron has him in his grasp. He is going to be his slave. His personal Targaryen slave, it was only right to have a Targaryen when his also going to bind a Dragon that was thought perished.
The visions ebbed away and the real world seeped in. The air was burning. Ash and red smoke swirled in the air violently and shook his ships. Behind the silence, two other ships close but wavered in the water by the furious wind. Rather being cold, the atmosphere hot and humid and was getting warmer as they continued sailing.
Euron could feel dark monstrous eyes watching them or rather him. But they made no move to attack. They knew. They knew he was their fucking master, their ruler. He was a god. The whole world would bow to him and say his name in awe and fear. It was only right. People think he is mad, but they do not see what he sees. Euron noticed the discreet glances his crew sent him. They never voiced their views. Euron took time and care to remove every single ones tongue out, hence the name of this ship; Silence.
Their were getting closer to the dragon; Euron could feel it. With the dragon under his control, the effect will be devastating and exciting. The drown god is nothing compared to him, others will soon see that.
The Greyjoy is the lone person on deck. His mute crew instead went to their rooms; not brave enough or strong enough to witness this storm, not like him. Euron glanced to the right to spy an object that rested against a big-brown sack that had tars that gave a peek of a glint of Valyrian weapons that Euron collected. He tugged the bag with a quick hand and the large horn was revealed, Euron had a glint in his eye and licked his lips. Valyrian glyphs and foreign writings, the dragon horn was decorated in red and gold with it gleaming amid the storm. Euron smiled this is going to be the downfall of the Targaryens. Euron thought with glee. A few years after the Targaryen's secured the throne, the iron islands called for a rebellion. It was brief war. The ironborn were outnumbered and outsmarted. Balon's war cost him the lives of his sons, Theon as a ward of the Starks, and his pride. Euron did not care for his brothers or his people, though the Targaryens made them a laughing stock for the rest of Westeros to see. And Euron is going to make them scream, with a dragon. It's going to ironic; dragon's used to be a symbol of the Targaryen's rise to power. Now it's going to represent their end.
And I just have a Targaryen on this ship. Euron stepped away from the dragon horn and walked underneath the deck.
…
Euron laughed at Jon's screams, the 16-year-old was held to the floor by a big of a brute man with a foot on his back. His wolf growled and yelped but stayed in place by the chain around his neck; the direwolf showed his sharp teeth as he rapidly moved his paws to no avail.
Euron struck his whip upon Jon's bare back that made him hiss in pain, the torture continued and blood sprayed across his crazed face as he laughed. Jon's body lurched with agony; he closed his eyes to try to suppress his yells, it proved useless as he let out a scream after another him. Euron threw the whip to a dark corner. Slaves took no notice of what's going on as they blankly stared at the walls; silent.
Euron grinned sadistically and pulled out a sharp pointed Valyrian dagger out of his sleek Armor. Jon turned his head around and stared at the dagger with wariness, Euron loved the swim of fear that was clear in those amethyst eyes; it encouraged him to continue his actions. A stout scared man walked into the room wordlessly and took hold of Jon's left arm as the other man took the right; they turned around so his back was to Euron.
"Fuck you!" Jon screamed as he struggled against their hold, he quickened his squirming as Euron drew closer with his wicked blade. The direwolf is now berserk. Foam appeared in his wide snapping mouth and red eyes gleaming as he wanted to protect its master.
Euron grabbed a handful of Jon's curls and snapped back his neck so he was next to his ear. "Call me master."
Jon pulled his head back from his grasp and brought it back and Euron gasped in pain and anger as he held his broken nose. With a growl, he slashed in a vertical line across Jon's back. Jon yelled as dark-red blood flowed from the cut and into the floor. Euron laughed and clapped his hands as his two men stood quietly with a guarded expression.
"The more you struggle the more pain you will experience, Snow," Euron said cheerfully.
Jon was too weak to reply so he gasped in response. Euron then smiled cruelly. "Oh, the mighty and furious Jon snow. Lying at the feet of an exiled and mad Greyjoy. How would Essos react to this I wonder?"
Euron went on as he ignored Jon's gasping. "This is a small thing. With the dragon under my whim, you are going to be forgotten as they will talk of me instead."
Jon then laughed weakly. "This is madness. Dragons are all dead, you crazy fool."
Euron replied crazed frenzy."You are the fool, blind like everybody else. No one can see what I see. There is magic in this world, from the wall to Valyria. I see it all."
Jon shook his head as he laughed. "Sure you do. I will not believe this crazed shit. You are truly fucked up in the head, Greyjoy. If I was Balon I would take your head instead of banishing you."
Another angry slash hit and Jon closed his mouth and hung his head forward as the pain was too much. Euron smoothed his hand over the slashes that made Jon hiss loudly. He poked his finger deep in the wound and Jon suddenly found life as he flexed his arms and yelled, bending his back to find some type of way to get away from that burning finger.
Euron took away the pressure and grinned. "You are going to call me master, one way or another snow. I can promise you that."
Euron then gasped and spin on his feet before he stopped and looked at Jon with a knowing look. "Oh, I can't call you Snow anymore can I?" He asked.
Jon stiffened. "If you want to mock by calling me a bastard, I won't stop you. It won't change who I am."
Euron slowly walked in front of Jon and got in his face and said. "But what I am about to say will, Snow." Euron enjoyed the confusion on his face before delivering the blow. "Or should I say, Targaryen?"
Euron leaned back just when Jon made the attempt to head-butt him and the Greyjoy punched Jon with his left fist. Jon coughed at the amount of blood that built in his mouth.
Jon snarled as he regained himself. "I am no damned Targaryen. My mother is from Lys. Just because I have their eyes doesn't mean I am one of them!" He said loudly.
Euron knocked Jon's head back again and Euron shook his head with a smile. "Did you ever wonder why you didn't feel like you belonged with the Starks?"
Jon froze and he then glared at him. "How do you know that," He said in a low voice.
Euron went on. "I told you, Targaryen. I can see!" The crow's eye yelled, crazed. Under his eye patch, it itched and twitched.
Jon looked shaken but answered confidently. "I am not a Targaryen, you're crazy words won't persuade me."
Euron paced in front of him, eager to strike a dagger of words into the man's heart. "Eddard never talked about your mother," He said calmly.
Jon's face turned red. "She came from Ly-"
Euron broke in. "No no… That is a lie. The Stark only said that to cover up your birth."
Jon's face paled but he replied, "He would never lie to me, he never did."
Euron smiled and raised his arms upon his head as he enjoyed causing him pain. "Oh, but he did. Eddard Stark is praised for his honesty and his awareness of what is right from wrong, but does anybody truly know him? Of what goes through that northern head of his? No, you don't. I, however do." Euron bounced on his heels "Why was he in Dorne?"
Jon was taken aback by the sudden answer but responded, "To bring Lyanna back to Winterfell."
Euron inclined his head. "Ok, what happens to Lyanna?"
"Died From childbirth."
"The child?"
"It was stillborn."
Euron leaned on his toes. He was so…close. "Did Eddard ever bring their bones to Winterfell?"
"Yes."
Euron grinned very manically."When were you brought to Winterfell?" The truth was on the verge of being revealed.
Jon frowned in thought. "Around the same ti-"He stopped and looked to the wooden floor, his many curls hiding his face.
It was quiet.
Very silent
Euron watched the silent form of Jon Targaryen, happily imagining the pain and the betrayal that resident in the 16-year-old."Now that is out of the way, I have something to do." Euron said as he walked back around Jon to peer at his scarred back.
Euron placed his dagger on his skin and paused for any words or protest from Jon but he was silent. Euron shrugged and did his artwork on the pale skin. Euron hummed as he raced his dagger in sharp movements. He did it slowly and with the strength to cause more pain. Jon stayed motionless and took the pain without a word. Euron stepped back to examine his work with a smile and he nodded in glee.
On Jon's back was a small carving of a miniature eye.
Jon
Ghost licked his face with love and protectiveness, though Jon did not notice as he was conflicted with emotions. His back burned and ached but Jon didn't care.
He is not a bastard but a Targaryen.
His fat-uncle lied to him. Now Ned Stark's refusal to speak about his mother made sense Jon was not his son. He took him from Rhaegar's back and told the world the baby of Lyanna was dead. If the king comes to the knowledge that Ned to his son it was death for certain. So Ned kept it a secret and kept him a secret.
Anger rushed to him. Then it stumped out. What could he do? Jon is not going to rat about the lie to get Ned killed, he still somehow loved the man who raised him like his own. Jon is not going to leave the Stark children without their father, Robb and Arya will be in grief and blame him. Jon gained two siblings while losing five in return.
But most of all, he wanted to see how Lady Stark would react to this shit.
Euron Greyjoy
It is here, he finally found it.
A roar, louder than anything Euron hear cracked the air like thunder, the water rippled as the ships wavered. On deck, mutes were looking around the red-ash smoke for the creator of the roar. A dark humongous shape was seen as wings big as mountains flapped, the crew was paralyzed with fear as it roars again. Euron was different, he was grinning crazily and looked to the nearest person to him, "Grab the fucking horn, it's time that I become a god," He said grandly.
The man nodded in fear and raced to grab the horn and went back over to Euron. He nodded and said with calm, "Blow it."
The man started shaking as he glanced from the horn to his master in nervousness and shifted on his feet.
"Someone throw him overboard!" Euron called out enraged. The dragon will soon find them and turn them all to ash, there can be no delay. A man grabbed the shaken mute and wordlessly threw off the deck. The sound of splashing was heard but no screams.
Euron pointed at another man. "You, come over here!" He ordered with a bit of panic. The man took the horn without question and blew. Instantly the horns brighten with white light and the man's lips evaporated and his mouth…then his stomach. Showing no care for the man, Euron eagerly looked to the smoke.
Silence.
The crew eyes drifted to Euron with panic. The Greyjoy stood with a frozen expression as his eye bulged while the other ached like a warning. Euron swung his head to the man next in line. "Blow!" He commanded with fear. The man blew and just became like the original, mouth evaporating.
Still, there was silence.
Euron's hands shook as he looked around for the dragon that should be under his control. What was happening?
"Blow!"
"Blow!"
"Blow!"
Man after man blew…and still no sight of the dragon. Euron turned around to see only two men were left standing."Turn this ship around!" He ordered. If he couldn't bind the dragon, there was no reason staying here.
A force of air knocked Euron and his men off their feet and the waters rippled as a roar had Euron's head ringing. A dark-ebony, black as coil serpent with wings flew into sight.
It was big.
Ash was floating in a frenzy as dark-beady eyes fasten on to one of the ships and in a speed of sound, the huge dragon flapped in front of a vessel and opened its mouth.
A stream of emerald fire flew out with a bang.
The waters were alight with green flame.
Euron was stunned as he watched the dragon tear apart through his ships. With its claws or fire, it got the job done. The Dragon roared as it continued on its rampage, wood splintered as creaks and the groans of the ships sank underneath the water.
Two ships remained.
And the dragon chose to take out Euron first. The dragon bared his teeth at Euron with blood-lust in its eyes. Euron no longer felt the twitching of his eye patch as the dragon's mouth widen.
Jon
A clank of metal jarred Jon out of his dark musings, he glanced towards Ghost to see the direwolf was free of his chains. Jon stared in surprise, he knew that Ghost had lost a good amount of weight he just didn't expect he would lose so much that he was able to wiggle out of his chains. But Jon is still chained.
Jon smiled at Ghost sadly. "Good job buddy."
Jon's ears perked up at the sound of crashes and the screaming of the water and Jon's hair stood up on end. Something dangerous is out there. He pointed to Ghost. "Go!"
Ghost whined and stayed where he was; he had no intent to leave his master's side. Another crash was heard, "Come here Ghost." Jon beckoned with his hand. Ghost prowled forward and Jon held his head as he looked into his ruby eyes, "Please Ghost, I don't want you to die just to stay with me."
Ghost stared at Jon for the longest of moments before galloping to the open door; the direwolf looked back at Jon. The 16-year-old smiled sadly and waved for him to go. Ghost howled and trotted out the room.
Goodbye Ghost. Jon thought fondly. Suddenly, the ship tilted to the left and green fire was reflected in Jon's wide lilac eyes.
…
"Snow!"
"Snow!"
Distant shouts awoke Jon. The curly hair-haired man looked around confusingly. He lay upon the land as darkened grass tickled his back. Jon sat up and took notice of the wreckage. Broken pieces of ship parts floated on the waters with dancing green-flame that burned so hot it appeared it will never go out. The air was tense with red and green ash with clouds that had a red tint.
How am I alive? Jon thought perplexed. Whatever that green flame was, Jon was sure he touched by it. Because I am a Targaryen. Jon thought unemotionally.
Whenever Jon is stress or annoyed he ruffles his hair; but there was none. Jon ran his fingers his head, feeling the smoothness of bald instead of the preferred mass of curls he had since he was a boy. It will grow back Jon looked to his side to see two figures approaching and couldn't believe his and their luck.
Tyrion was walking briskly to him with Ghost happily tagging along beside him. Jon smiled tiredly and got to his feet. Oddly, Ghost stopped and looked upwards intently. Tyrion glanced up as well and stopped also.
Jon frowned. He was about to shout when a crash came from behind that almost knocked him off his feet. Jon righted himself. A sniff was heard as a breath connected with his back. Jon felt his body tremble as he slowly turned around.
To find a black snout that was larger than his whole body.
Ages:
Rhaegar-40
Elia-43
Rhaella-54
Rhaeyns-19
Aegon-18
Jon-16
Thank you all for reading, let me know your thoughts! Good day!