Jon Stark

They sailed away from Pyke at dawn, a small flotilla of ships all headed for the North. Word had come that Westwatch-by-the-Bridge was manned again, with anxious watchers with Myrish Eyes peering West to make sure that no more icebergs with Others and wights drifted South again.

He and Ygritte were on Asha Greyjoy's ship, the Lady of Pyke herself commanding as she needed to bend the knee to King Robert and find out how the Iron Islands could now help. The Reader had been left behind in Pyke to command in her place and they knew that he would make sure that all was well.

They even had a cabin to themselves and it was there that were now as the ship rose and fell in the waves and Ygritte turned a bit pale at the motion. "I'd rather be on deck," she said hoarsely. "Why are we here?"

"Because there's something I need to show you."

She looked at him owlishly. "Now? The way my stomach feels right now, no. You might think that fucking me would take my mind off feeling seasick, but it really bloody won't."

He looked up from where he was rummaging in his backpack and looked at her. "What? No!" he reached down and pulled out the wrapped oval shape that he had hidden in the backpack for so long. "Here," he said as he handed it carefully over to her. "Look at that."

Ygritte peered at him for a moment and then unwrapped it slowly. When she saw the first glittering swirls of the dragon egg she gasped. "It's beautiful!" Then her forehead wrinkled. "But what is it?"

"It's… something I needed to show you here, somewhere private, where no-one can overhear us. It's a secret – you can't tell anyone about it. It's important, Ygritte. It's… it's a dragon egg."

Confused, she looked at it again and then at him and then back to the egg. "I don't understand."

He sighed and then took her hand as he sat next to her. "I will hold no secrets from you. You are my wife. I love you. But this is something that you must know – Ned Stark is not my father."

His wife stared at him – and then she laughed. "Give over! Of course he is! You look just like him! You're a Stark to your fingertips! Why would you say otherwise?"

He winced. "I am a Stark. Just not Ned Stark's son. My mother was Lyanna Stark."

Ygritte frowned at him. "The one who was abducted by the Mad King's son?"

"Yes." He looked at the floor, his cheeks heating with shame. "She went willingly at first. She believed his lies. But then… when word came of the death of her father and her brother… she wanted to leave. And he wouldn't let her. He held her against her will. And then…" He stopped, his words no more than a choked-off whisper. After a moment he rallied. "He had his Kingsguard hold her down and spread her legs. And I was the result."

There was a moment of horrified and utter silence between them both. "You're the son of the Dragon Prince? The one that died on the Trident?"

"I am. I'm his bastard son. Ned Stark – who I love as a father – saved me by claiming that I was his bastard instead. Because otherwise I'd have been murdered, or so he feared."

"Murdered?" Ygritte was as white as a sheet and her hands shook in his. "But-"

"When Cersei Lannister married the King after Rhaegar's other children were murdered, do you think that cold fuck Tywin Lannister would not have had me killed if he had known of my existence? I would have been knifed and left to die. And King Robert hated Rhaegar. My father – Ned Stark – couldn't take the chance." He took a deep breath into his lungs and then looked at Ghost, who was watching him from the corner of the cabin, his red eyes unblinking. "So now you know."

Another long moment of silence followed. "Who else knows?"

"Lady Stark. Robb. Uncle Benjen. A few on the Wall, including Maester Aemon, who gave me the egg and my sword. And the King too. He knows now. He met my mother in Winterfell in a dream that… I'm not sure was a dream. She begged for my life. He granted it. As long as I don't try and become King myself, I'm not a threat to him. But… it's still a secret. Too many idiots out there. Too many fools."

She looked at him, her hands tightening on his. "Ned Stark is your father. I've seen the way he worries about you. Cares about you. Loves you. You're his son. And that's that." She looked at the dragon egg. "What about this then? What do we do about it?"

"It was Aemon's," he said after a long moment. "I don't know what to do with it." He put both hands on it. "For all I know it's stone now. Daenerys Targaryen might have her own dragons now, but-" He paused. For a moment the egg had almost felt warm. "But we don't."

Ygritte nodded slowly. Then she blinked. "Jon?"

"Yes?"

"Pass that pail."

Seeing how green she suddenly was he did so, taking the egg from her and holding it close to him as she stared at the bottom of the pail and visibly tried to discipline her stomach. It might be a long trip for her.

Jaime

He came awake with a start, sweat on his brow and his hands shaking as if he had an ague. After a long moment he controlled himself and then swallowed. The others were still sitting around him, their eyes white, whilst the near-corpse on the weirwood throne just sat there, eye closed.

Gods… what he had seen… He almost wanted to empty his stomach on the ground next to him. He was not that man, he was not someone who pushed little boys out of windows, he wasn't!

But… it was that little insidious word, that word that whispered in his ear. He had believed Cersei's promises of 'dealing with' servants that had seen them. Like a fool, he'd believed her whilst also knowing the truth, deep down, inside himself. Oh, he'd known.

"Here."

He started violently. Leaf was squatting to one side of him, the bowl with the remains of the weirwood paste in one hand as she offered it to him again. She'd appeared almost out of nowhere and he looked at her in confusion as she tilted her head and looked him up and down.

"What… what are you looking at?"

A slight smile crossed her face. "I've heard songs sung of people who have sworn oaths on the Fist of Winter. I'd just… never seen one before. It hangs on you."

"What hangs on me?"

She looked at him as if he was an idiot. "The curse, of course. Break your word and you die. Now – eat again. They're waiting for you."

He took the bowl with a shaking hand. Yes, of course he was cursed. What else could it be? He sighed, scooped the remaining paste out and ate it, grimacing a little at the taste. And then he closed his eyes and grasped a white root again.

When he opened his eyes again he was back in the Throne Room of the Red Keep – and with four people now looking at him. The Green Man and Bloodraven were in the same places as before, but now the Blackfish and Brienne of Tarth were standing there as well, the Blackfish with his arms folded and a scowl on his face as he looked at him. Ah. Did he know?

"Peace, husband mine," Brienne muttered. "You cannot punish him for something he has not done, nor will ever do – now."

"Aye," the Blackfish said after a long moment. "I know." Then he looked at the Green Man. "What now?"

But it was Bloodraven who replied with a short and sardonic laugh as he sat down at the base of the Iron Throne. "And now you ask the questions you came here to ask."

"Euron Greyjoy," the Green Man said curtly. "You taught him, did you not?"

Bloodraven closed his eyes for a long moment and then sighed. "I feared you would ask about him." When he opened his eyes there was deep tiredness in them. "And at least you came in time for me to warn you about him."

"In time?" Brienne asked, her head tilted to one side.

"Oh yes." Bloodraven's smile was bitter. And then he pointed at the Blackfish. "Time. It has been taken from me and given to you. Did you think that the grey disappearing from your hair was natural? The Old Gods give with one hand and take with another. They brought Robb Stark back – and took the life of Ramsey Snow. They gave Aemon his sight back – at the cost of some mad Septon in the Riverlands. And they shorten my life to extend yours, Blackfish."

Brynden Tully looked genuinely stunned at that. "I… I did not ask them to, I swear it!"

"Peace!" Bloodraven waved a hand. "I know. It is the Old Gods and their balance."

"You… said that before," Jaime blurted. "About Robb Stark? What happened?"

Bloodraven just looked at him, his eyebrows raised. "You do not know? You were not told?"

"He wasn't ready," sighed the Green Man. "His brother knows. And his father can never know. That one hoards hatred like a fine wine."

This seemed to amuse Bloodraven. "Very well. Robb Stark has memories from the future in which you pushed his brother Brandon out of that window. He did not truly know that you did it, but he knew enough. He fought a war that was started when Joffrey – your idiot son – chopped off the head of Ned Stark in King's Landing after Ned Stark was betrayed by many people. Robert Baratheon was dead, killed in a 'hunting accident', Joffrey was king, Ned Stark knew about the incest, Jon Arryn had discovered it but was dead and Stannis Baratheon knew as well. War followed, as bad as the Dance of Dragons, and all the time the Others marched on the Wall and the North was neglected. Robb Stark died, his death orchestrated by your father - and was sent back to stop disaster."

He stood there almost reeling. Gods. Joffrey as king? That imbecile? "He knew then. Robb Stark. When he called me… what he called me?"

"He knew." The Blackfish said the words in a voice like stone.

"Why didn't he kill me?"

"Because he's better than you." The Blackfish turned back to Bloodraven. "Euron Greyjoy?"

There was a long moment of silence. "He came here without being summoned. I… thought it was destiny. I was looking for a successor without realising that I had made many mistakes. I should have asked Coldhands about his mission, I should not have accepted his service without wondering why he was the way that he was. I did not realise that the Isle of Faces still had Singers on it.

"He arrived and wanted to learn. And after a while I realised that he wanted to learn all the wrong things. All he wanted to learn was… how to take. To… steal power. He did not care about the Song of Ice and Fire, he did not want to defend against the Others and their wights, he just wanted to know how to take as much power – magic, if you want to call it that – into himself. He was greedy beyond belief. I drove him away when I realised what he was."

"Why?" The Green Man barked the question. "What is his goal?"

Bloodraven tilted his head to one side. "Have you seen the death of the Drowned God yet?"

"Not yet. The grief of the Old Gods is still thick."

"I watched it as it happened. Greyjoy tried to be there, he almost killed Ned Stark but was beaten by him after Leyton Hightower laid down his life for the Lord of the North. It was the one time that I've been able to see him in years. He… sought the power of the Drowned God. He wanted to absorb it. The man is always looking for the next rung on the ladder of ambition. No matter how high that next rung is, he's always grasping for it."

"But he failed. The Drowned God is dead. And Ned Stark still lives."

"His ambition is still great. Do you think that he will stop now? He'll try again, he'll reach out and try to absorb more power somewhere, perhaps in Essos. He wants more and more and I know what his target is – Hopemourne."

The Green Man's eyes widened. "He seeks that?"

"Of course!" Bloodraven laughed. "He asked about what lies beneath it many times. He knows how much power it has, it created the Others, even when dying. It… it is alien beyond belief. It is ancient and not of this world and measures time differently from us. Thousands of years are nothing to it. It measures life in terms of millions of years. So, dying is a long-term process for it. And even now it has power that Euron Greyjoy wants."

The Green Man nodded. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know – and that's what should terrify you. As I said, his confrontation with Ned Stark before the Gate in the Hightower is the first time that I have been able to see him in years, thanks to the Old Gods being there. He escaped from there and… well, he left his skin behind." Bloodraven's smile was something so thin that you could have shaved with it.

"His skin?" Brienne almost stammered. "He left his skin behind?"

"What is he?" The Green Man barked. "What happened to him after he left you?"

Bloodraven rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I know this much - he went to Valyria."

"Fuck." The Green Man muttered the word quietly. "How do you know?"

"He went in… but nothing human came out. Whatever happened in there… he was different after."

"Different how?"

"Not completely human anymore. Human mixed, I think, with something else. Something that gave him power. And sharpened his hunger. Something that can evade even our eyes."

"How?" The Blackfish asked keenly. "How is that possible?"

The two older men sighed simultaneously and then, after a short nod from the Green Man, Bloodraven leant back and raised his head – and the room dissolved into mist and suddenly they were standing in bright sunshine on a warm hill. Jaime looked around in confusion – where were they? The sun was hot even though it was not particularly high in the sky and he could see trees to the side that were not familiar to him. And then he frowned – there was a tension in the air, almost a throbbing that made him frown. To the South he could see a line of great mountains that seemed to be emitting wisps of smoke and ash.

"What… what is that?" The Blackfish rubbed at his forehead as if in pain for a moment. "It's like a weight on my mind."

Jaime stared at the man – Brienne was looking troubled as well, but the Green Man and Bloodraven were merely wincing just a tad. After a moment he sniffed the air. "It's like the air before a thunderstorm."

The two old men looked at him oddly. "You have it right," the Green Man said slowly. "Interesting that you can sense it too." He looked at the line of mountains. "These are the last moments that any Green Man can ever see of Valyria since the Doom. This is the Day itself – the Doom is merely minutes away. What you sense is magic in the air, magic controlled, moulded, used – and abused."

"Until it broke," Bloodraven said in a heavy voice. "The Valyrians thought that they could control it. They couldn't. And they paid the ultimate price for it."

"But this all feels so… wrong," Brienne muttered. "How could they not sense it?"

"Because they thought that it was normal. When you've grown up with the sound of magic screaming as it bent, you think that that's what it should be like. That's it's fine – usual, normal." Bloodraven sighed and shook his head. "My ancestors thought that they were the superior beings on this world of ours – they had their dragons, their empire, their slaves, and their increasingly twisted form of magic. What could possibly go wrong?"

Far off in the distance to the south something seemed to… almost snap. He almost could sense it, with the Blackfish and Brienne turning swiftly and staring. For a moment a bright light almost as powerful as the sun seemed to pulse – and then the clouds themselves seemed to flee as the mountains to the south shivered and shook and then burst apart in fire and ash. Something was headed towards them, a white shiver in the air, moving almost too fast for him to see and it blew rocks in the air as it passed over or through the mountains. He threw a hand up in terror, there was a wind on his face, they were all going to die – and then they were back in the throne room.

There was a long moment of silence. "Well now," the Blackfish said eventually. "That was the moment of the Doom, I take it?"

"It was," Bloodraven said tiredly. "Hundreds of thousands died in mere minutes. And millions more were condemned to die in the aftermath, the Century of Blood. And from that moment we cannot see Valyria. Not in green dreams at least, or like we are seeing now. People can physically go into Valyria, but at the risk of their lives. Magic is… different there. Warped, changed, terrible. Broken, almost – it's a hole in the world, Valyria. An abyss in places. We cannot see – and I do not think that we want to see it. If what I suspect is true, there are things in it that cannot survive outside it. Or should ever be allowed to escape it. If you look into an abyss – sometimes something looks back."

"What kind of things?" Jaime asked the question in a quavering voice.

"I don't know. The Dragonlord Aurion led 30,000 men into Valyria to claim it as his new empire – not one was ever seen again. Not one survivor. Most people who seek Valyria never return. Don't forget that when Balerion the Black Dread brought Princess Aerea back, the biggest dragon that the Targaryans ever had was wounded. What could have wounded such a creature? And then… there was the matter of Aerea's death. I've read the accounts of Grand Maester Benifer and Septon Barth. I had nightmares for weeks after. There were things… alive inside her. Hot things. The ice bath the men gave Aerea killed them and for that we should be glad. What lives in Valyria now? What can live there?"

"My Uncle Gerion-" Jaime started to say, in horror.

"Was lucky," Bloodraven barked out. "He lost his eye and much of his crew and very nearly his life, but he was lucky."

There was a long moment of tense silence. "You think that there's something in Euron Greyjoy then?" Brienne asked carefully.

"Perhaps," Bloodraven muttered. "Perhaps something. Perhaps someone? A melding perhaps? There were reports of demons being in Valyria. What did Euron Greyjoy meet? What happened to him? We'll never know, unless he tells someone."

"So… him losing his skin in the Hightower… does not matter?" The Blackfish sounded horrified.

"Perhaps he does not need it anymore," the Green Man rumbled thoughtfully. "Perhaps he can regrow it. The fact that he can evade our eyes… aye, that worries me. He's dangerous."

"And powerful," Bloodraven warned. "He cannot come back here, the wards are too strong. I have made sure of that. But he plots something new, I am sure of it."

"And he wants Hopemourne, the thing underneath it at least." The Blackfish had a set look on his face, the look of a man thinking deeply. "He can never be allowed to have such power, can he?"

"Never," Bloodraven said in a voice like stone. "I have little time left, but you must stop him. Especially given what I have sensed recently. I feel it in the earth, in the stones, in the water."

"What have you sensed?" The Green Man looked as alarmed as he had ever seen him.

Bloodraven's nostrils flared as if he was sniffing something. "The Others are trying to wake it up. One last thing, before it dies. And who knows what it can do? Break the Wall perhaps? Make something deadlier than the Others? The second Long Night is coming. I will not see it begin – but you must see it end."