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Dropping down into the dark pit in front of her, Arya Stark strained her eyes as she tried to stare into the dark tunnel that led beneath one of the weirwood trees on the Isle of Faces. While she could feel…something coming this way, the truth of the matter was that she had no idea just what she was looking for! Not that she would ever admit it. But she was utterly and completely lost! And she'd been this way now for two days! Two days of wandering around the Isle of Faces after Lord Nox woke her, her sister, Joy, Shireen and the wool-head up just before dawn and dragged them off without any warning whatsoever! Then when they got to the Isle of Faces, something that had excited Arya to no end, Lord Nox calmly told them that they were on their own and that they 'would know what they were looking for once they found it'. Then he turned his back on them, saying that he had something else he needed to find, just before all but disappearing into the thick tree line just off the waterfront.
Honestly! Could he not tell them any more than that! Oh wait, he did. That not only would they have to search for something that they didn't even know what it was! But that they would also have to do it alone! And without any food or water! Luckily, she'd managed to find a stream of water and some plants that she remembered learning were safe to eat so that part wasn't so bad. But still, she'd been wandering around for days and she still had no clue what she was looking for! The only hope she'd had was when she woke this morning and felt…something at the edges of the Force. Something that'd led her to an old weirwood that had some sort of small cave going beneath the roots that was just large enough for her to fit into.
'When I get back…I'm going to kick Lord Nox right in the shins!' Arya swore to herself as she pressed her hand against the roots of the weirwood that made up the strange tunnel she was standing in. 'Well…no use in just standing here. Certainly not going to find whatever it is that…Lord…what…why is it…cold? So…so cold? Wh—?'
Arya had only a moment's notice before she felt, rather than saw, something coming straight for her face from the darkness. Her body, honed by her time spent in the yard under Lord Nox's tutelage, moved on instinct as she bent backwards to the point where her hands touched the ground and she flipped backwards, whatever it was that'd come from the darkness passing harmlessly through where her head had once been, but still close enough that she could feel the air move in the darkness as it passed.
Landing on her feet, Arya's left hand went from the ground to the small dagger she kept at her waist. In the blink of an eye, Arya had turned herself, her dagger held tightly in her left hand, as she stared hard into the darkness that'd swallowed up whatever it was that'd just attacked her. "Attacking from the shadows! How cowardly! Come out and face me!" she yelled into the darkness.
She was met with nothing but darkness again. But just as she was about to put her dagger away, she heard it. A low rumbling that slowly grew. Gripping her dagger tightly, Arya strained her eyes towards the source of the noise. In darkness, she could see the vaguest of outlines. It was…a person…no. A child? Whoever or whatever it was…it was no taller than her. And it made no noise as it took a step towards her, prompting her to take a step back in return. "Attacking from the shadows is 'cowardly'. How ironic coming from you, girl."
Brandishing her dagger, Arya motioned for the person, no, the young woman judging by her voice, to stay away from her. "Who are you?!" She yelled at the figure, still cloaked by the darkness around them.
The figure laughed again as it took another step closer, just enough so that the light from the entrance of the tunnel illuminated her face. She was…a young woman, perhaps no older than Ygritte. But short, as short as Arya was. Yet there was also something…familiar about her. Though what that was Arya had no idea because she could not remember ever meeting this girl. The girl seemed to realize it as well as she smiled at Arya. "You don't recognize me, do you? Not surprising, girl. But maybe…this will help."
Arya watched in curiosity as the young woman raised a hand to her face, palm towards herself and fingers spread wide enough to cover her face almost completely. When her hand moved again, Arya gasped and took another step backwards. The young woman was gone. And in her place was one of the stable boy's she recognized from Winterfell. "Or perhaps this?" The woman raised her hand again, only for her face to change again as it passed by, this time whatever it was before her now looked exactly like Lady Nox! "Or perhaps this one…it is a face I have not worn in some time…but I believe even you should recognize this one."
This time when the things hand lowered, Arya nearly dropped her dagger. Standing before her was…herself. Slightly older, but Arya knew her own face when she saw it. "Who, no, what are you?!" Arya all but shouted, fighting against the sudden urge she felt to bury her dagger as deep as she could into the thing's chest.
The thing wearing her face just smiled and spread her arms wide, "I'm you silly. Or at least I was. Then I cut my ties and became something more. Something far greater. I became No one and everyone."
Blinking, Arya stayed on guard as best she could, her eyes tracking every movement the thing before her made. "Wh – that makes no sense!" She yelled at the thing. "You can't just be no one and everyone! That just…it just doesn't make sense!"
Sighing the thing shook its head. "That's because you are too sheltered. Can't believe this one was ever like this. Not that I blame the girl. Your father, your siblings, Lord Nox. They all know what you can do, what you are capable of. And they're holding you back because they fear what you can become! Don't you see? You can be anyone, do anything you want!" As if to prove its point, the thing raised a hand to it's face, her face disappeared and was replaced by her sister's. "This one knows how much you wanted to be your sister, well now you can! You can be whatever you want, whoever you want! This one cut their ties with what they once were and now this one can become anyone and anything they desire! And you can as well…you just need to take that first step. Leave it all behind. Become 'no one', so that you can become everyone! And once you do, no one will be able to stop you. Lord Nox. Your father. Your brother's and sister. Everyone that held you back will be but memories. And you will have the life you always wanted."
This was…this was all she ever wanted and more! The chance to prove herself! To be more than just what others told her she was! She could do anything she wanted, go anywhere. But if she did, if she followed what this thing was saying…then she would have to give up her family. Her brothers. Her sister. Her father. Her friends. Everyone. Gone.
'We are who we choose to be, not what others define us to be.' She wanted to make the plunge. To take the offer this thing was giving her. She'd even begun shifting her weight to take that step. But the words of Lord Nox stopped her cold. His words were followed quickly by her father's. 'When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies. But the pack survives.' Her mother's voice, sweet and caring flowed next. 'Family, duty, honor. Family comes first because it is the most important of all. Above duty, above honor. Family must be considered first and foremost.'
Straightening her back, she glared at the figure before her. The smirk that'd been on it's face slowly melted away as Arya brought her dagger back up before her. "I…I am Arya Stark of Winterfell. Daughter of Lord Eddard Stark and Acolyte of Lord Nox. And will forge my own path as my own person. Not as a no one."
The figure before her glared hatefully at her. "We shall see…Arya Stark of Winterfell."
Eyes snapping open with a start, Arya stared at the blood red leaves of a weirwood swaying in the breeze overhead. Scrambling to her feet, Arya snatched her dagger from the sheath at her waist and looked around wildly. She was no longer in the cave beneath the weirwood. She was above ground…in the same small grove she'd woken up in before finding the tunnel. 'What…What happened? What—Where…Was…Gods…What is happening?'
Moving cautiously back to where she'd laid her head, Arya noticed something. A light glow coming from the exposed roots of the weirwood near to where she'd been laying. Glancing around the grove and not seeing anyone nearby, Arya slowly put her dagger away and went to a knee near to where the glowing was coming from. There, nestled in the roots of the weirwood tree was a small glowing gem perhaps the size of her thumb. And what was strange about it, more so than the fact that she was certain that it hadn't been there when she'd laid down, was the fact that she could feel the gem through the Force, almost as if it was calling out for her to take it.
Taking the small gem in hand, Arya smiled widely as she felt a sense of fulfillment and excitement pass through her. This…This was it! She'd done it! She'd passed her 'Trial'! And now she was a full Apprentice! Just like Jon and Robb!
Hearing the breaking of a branch, Arya closed her hands around the gem, holding it protectively to her chest as she whipped around to face whoever or whatever was coming towards her.
Standing right next to the weirwood she'd been sleeping next to was no one else but her silly sister Sansa. Who, Arya noted, was covered in dirt and even had a few tears in the dressed she'd chosen to wear the day Lord Nox took them away from Harrenhal. "Sansa," she breathed, keeping her fingers closed tightly around the gem in her hand. "Gods, you look like—"
That was as far as she got as Sansa all but lunged towards her. Arya braced herself for the attack, but her sister didn't attack her. Instead, Sansa nearly collapsed against her, pulling her into the tightest hug Arya could ever remember receiving as her sister bawled her eyes out. "Oh gods Arya! I – Oh gods, I'm so sorry! I…I'm so glad you're safe and…"
Arya couldn't make out what else her sister said as her words became a jumbled mess of words, tears, and sobs. "Um…Sansa…What are you—?"
"Arya," Sansa managed to say between light sobs. "Just…For once…Shut up and let me be a sister…a good sister to you."
She wanted to tell her sister off for being silly, but she didn't, couldn't. At least not now. Later she would tease Sansa about this. But right now, she could tell that for some reason, her sister not only wanted her, but needed her. 'Family comes first,' she reminded herself, thinking back to whatever had happened to her when she fought against that strange version of her in her dream.
"Oh, um…forgive me, miladies."
Springing away from her sister as if she'd suddenly caught fire, Arya fought against the rising heat in her face as she turned and found Gendry, Joy and Shireen all standing on the opposite side of the grove from Arya and Sansa. "There is nothing to forgive," Sansa said, nearly all traces of what'd just happened gone from her face. 'Damn it! I want to be able to do that!' "I…merely needed a moment with my sister. My brothers were not mincing words when they said that the Trials would be…trying."
"I suppose that's the point…if that's what we even went through," Shireen commented, the girl's hand clenched tightly by her side. "Though I was expecting something more…well…physical I suppose."
"Anyone can be trained to overcome a physical obstacle, my young Acolyte."
Arya nearly jumped out of her boots as she drew her dagger once again. Only to find Lord Nox leaning casually against the very same weirwood that she and Sansa were standing next too. "Gods…one day you will tell me how you do that!" Arya all but yelled, putting her dagger away.
Lord Nox gave her a smirk as he pushed himself off the weirwood. "When the day comes that you are ready to learn that lesson, Arya Stark, you will not need me to give it." Her Master then proceeded to ruffle her hair, in much the same way her father did at times, and just like when her father did it, it drove Arya mad. "Any fool can train their body to overcome a physical trial, Shireen Baratheon. And because of that, the trials are not meant to test you physically, at least not entirely. But rather they pit you against your greatest adversary. Yourselves. And just as I predicted, you all seemed to have passed your trials. Show me them."
Arya turned her head towards the others, who all seemed just as confused as she was by the question. Sansa was the first to step forward and raise her hand. When she opened it, Arya could only gape at the glowing gem in her hand. It wasn't as large as the one Arya had, nor was it even the same color for some reason. But she could feel it through the Force, though it felt a lot different than the one she had.
Next, she knew, Shireen had made her way beside her and was holding out her hand. Just like herself and Sansa, Shireen had a glowing gem as well. Though hers was on size with the one Sansa had, its color was again different from both of theirs. Gendry and Joy were both next as they held up their hands at nearly the same time, showing off their own gems. Gendry's was again a different color than any of the others, while Joy's was the same color as the one Sansa held. Realizing that she was the last one left, Arya proudly raised her hand and showed off her own gem, which was larger and glowed brighter than any of the others.
"And now, you are no longer Acolytes, but rather my Apprentices." Lord Nox proclaimed, which made Arya swell with pride and excitement as she had a good idea about what was coming next.
"Does this mean we get our own lightsabers like Jon and Robb?!"
"In due time," Lord Nox responded, much to her disappointment. "Now come. Our time here on the Isle of Faces is not yet concluded."
"Where are we going now?" Arya didn't mean to sound like she was complaining but watching Lord Nox turn his back on the lot of them and make his way deeper into the woods made her remember just how sore, and tired she really was.
"You five were not the only ones with a purpose here," Lord Nox explained over his shoulder, not once changing his fast pace and forcing the rest of them to nearly run in order to keep up with him. Honestly…did the man never tire?
"Your brother Robb found something interesting during his own Trial while we were at the Wall some years ago," Lord Nox said, his pace never slowing. "During his Trial, he had a vision of your House's founder, Bran the Builder. During this vision, your brother was informed and given a key to the last creation of your House's founder. A creation that he never finished. And a creation that is located here on the Isle of Faces. While you all were going through your trials, I was scouring the island looking for the last wonder of Bran Stark. Let us just say…it was not what I expected."
Arya blinked as she glanced about her surroundings. They were walking through the forest, a forest almost thicker than the Wolfswood. And now they were standing in the midst of a clearing perhaps a few hundred paces across! How, how did she not even notice the clearing? She'd been paying close attention to her every step and she was sure that all of this wasn't here a moment ago. Thankfully, when she glanced towards her sister and the others they seemed just as confused to their current change in scenery as she was.
"Master Nox," Gendry said turning around in tight circles with wide eyes. "Wha – What just happened?"
"Bran Stark was more than just a master craftsman. He was a Master of the Force as well," Lord Nox explained, waving his hand around the clearing. "He didn't want any unwanted guests to find his final creation. So he created a Force barrier around this clearing that blocked it completely from sight and would even influence non-Force sensitives to turn and walk away. In truth, the only reason I actually found it was because of the strange Force presence I felt on the island, and because of my being blind I was able to see through the deception. And now, here we are. The last creation of Bran Stark. Or rather…his last re-creation."
Glancing around the clearing, Arya focused on the only structure within. It was, well it looked like a simple wall that was arranged in a circle with a single break that had a set of stairs leading up to a raised platform about half as high as the wall that surrounded it. It wasn't very interesting to look at. Not when one considered that Bran the Builder created Winterfell, the Wall, and Storm's End. 'But Lord Nox has often said that you cannot judge something by it's look alone.' And with that thought in mind, Arya turned from looking at the structure with her eyes to trying to look at it through the Force.
Without a word, Lord Nox once again set off, this time heading up the stairs to the platform within the walls, leaving the lot of them scurrying to keep up with him. Reaching the raised platform, Arya was confused by what she saw within the walls. The Force was so strong here it was almost like she was standing next to a rushing river. But what was within the walls and on the platform was…well not what she expected. It looked, like a workshop of sorts. Or better yet a—
"This…This place looks like a forge."
Arya narrowed her eyes at Gendry. That was exactly what she'd been thinking and had been about to say, but he'd beat her to it. "This is not just any forge," Lord Nox explained, walking around the stone table that was in the center of the open space. "This is the Forge. Modeled after the First Forge, a place where the Je'daii first forged their weapons which would one day become synonymous with a Force user."
Arya's eyes went wide as the implication hit her. "Lightsabers! Are…You're saying that lightsabers can be forged here?!"
Lord Nox nodded. "In due time. Yes."
Arya was nearly bouncing in place. This was it! She would have her own lightsaber soon! She was sure of it! But of course, her sister had to go and throw a bucket of cold water on her excitement as she asked a silly question. "But Master Nox. If this place is truly capable of Forging such weapons and it has been here since the time of Bran the Builder, then why has it not been used?"
That was…not such a silly question. And as Arya and the others looked towards Lord Nox expectantly, the sorcerer undid the bag from his back that honestly Arya had not even noticed. "That is because Bran Stark never finished it." Setting the bag on the stone table, Lord Nox opened it and pulled out a stone plate looking about the size of a man's head. "You can all sense it, can't you? The way the Force is rushing by us like a raging river? This place was designed to channel the Force, amplify it. But Bran never figured out how to give the Force focus. So, he abandoned the project. But he never stopped trying to figure out how to truly bring this place to life. And during his final days at the Wall, he figured it out. And he left the key to his greatest creation for his descendants to find. A key that your brother Robb discovered during his own Trials."
Arya held her breath as she watched Lord Nox lower the stone plate onto the table. The moment it was in place, she immediately felt something change. The Force, which had been like a raging river just like Lord Nox described, went quiet. It was still just as heavy as before but now it…felt different. Focused…though how that made sense she had no idea.
"And now, Bran the Builder's final creation has been completed," Lord Nox proclaimed, a rare smile on his face as he once against reached into his bag. "And now, it is time for you five to cast aside the title of 'Acolyte' and become my 'Apprentices'."
Arya nearly shouted in joy as Lord Nox pulled out five smooth hilts of varying sizes. Hilts that she recognized immediately as lightsabers, though they were rather plain to look at when compared to Lord Nox's or her brothers. "Now, unlike your brothers, we will spend the remainder of our time here in the First Forge of Westeros modifying your own lightsabers through the Force to suit your needs."
Jon wasn't sure what it was that'd woken him so early in the morning, but something had driven him to rise before the sun had even risen. And whatever it was had not only woken him, but he felt a…desire? No. A need to walk through the godswood. Alone. And so here he was, in the darkness just before the sun rose, walking silently along the path through the godswood leading towards the weirwood tree with only his own eyes and the slight lighting from the watch towers around Winterfell to provide light for him.
Coming to the center of the godswood, he found himself standing before the imposing weirwood. Staring up at the twisting branches, some of which were almost as old as Winterfell itself, Jon felt something pulling at him. Something that he needed to do. But…what was it? As he looked amongst the branches, he noticed something. A thick branch that had longed hanged just over the hotspring was…gone. Instead of up in the tree, the branch, thicker than his arm and nearly twice as long as he was tall, was laying across the ground.
"And what is it that is so interestin that you left our bed to go walkin before da sun even be up?"
It was a testament to just how distracted he was that Jon had not even sensed Ygritte approaching until she was literally right behind him. "Gods, Ygritte," he breathed, shaking his head as he tried to calm his racing heart.
For her part, Ygritte merely looked surprised. "Ya sayin that ye be so distracted that I managed to get the drop on ya?" He could hear the mirth in her voice and knew that she would not let him live this one instance down anytime soon. "And what is it that has ya so distracted that ya don't even realize yer own woman is walkin up on ya?"
"I – I don't know." Jon answered honestly, turning back to gaze at the broken branch of the weirwood.
Moving up beside him, Ygritte tapped the bag he was holding. A bag that he didn't even realize he was holding. "And why did ye bring that rock out here with ya?"
Blinking, Jon glanced down at the bag in his hand. Feeling the weight within, Jon opened it. And gazed down at the black dragon egg within. The same egg he'd taken from within the ruins of Valyria years ago. The same dragon egg that he'd kept stashed away from everyone. An egg that he'd almost completely forgotten about. 'When did I…When did I get this from where I stashed it?'
Glancing back up, Jon went back and forth between the fallen branch and the egg in his hands. 'Why…What brought me here? Why am I here? The Force brought me here for some reason…but why?'
"It's not often ya see a branch from a weirwood fall." Ygritte said, almost making him start as he'd once again forgotten she was standing right next to him. "We of the true North see them as gifts from the gods. Some make spears. Some make bones. Others will sometimes burn the branches they find and pass their children through the smoke, prayin the strength and power of the gods will pass from the weirwood into their child."
'Burning the godswood for the blessings of the old gods. No. Hoping to take the old gods into them. By burning…burning…fire. Creatures of fire.' Blinking, unsure of just where the last thought came from, he glanced down at the egg. 'Could it…could it be that simple? No, surely not or they would have never died out. But…maybe this is the start?'
His body seemed to move on its own as he walked around the hot spring and towards the downed branch. Setting the egg down, he went down to his knees and began breaking the branch before stacking the pieces of wood overtop of the egg. Breaking one of the larger branches, Jon bit back a curse as the wood dug deep into the palm of his hand, deep enough that blood started to flow freely from his hand, dripping onto the wood and the egg though he didn't notice the latter as he set about bandaging the wound.
"Alright…I give up. I ain't got a clue as to what da fuck yer doing here." Ygritte sighed, knocking his hand away as she took over tying a makeshift bandage around his still freely bleeding palm. "If ya wanted to cook da damn thing, yer better off doin it in the fancy…katchen…kitchen…that you southerners are all so proud of."
"Dragons are creatures of fire…almost the embodiment of it pending on the legend you want to listen to," Jon answered her, taking his hand back after she'd tied the wound tightly to stem the tide of blood. "Maybe…maybe they need to be born of fire as well."
He could almost hear Ygritte's brow furrow as he knelt next to the now decently sized pile of wood with the egg nestled in the middle. "Ya…ya want to hatch da damn thing?" She asked cautiously. "Are ya sure ya want to be doin that? I mean, no one livin has seen these beasts…but even in the true North we have stories of them."
"I – gods…To be honest, I don't know," Jon answered truthfully as he rocked back slightly onto his heels. "But this…this is something that needs to happen. I can, I can feel it. And I need your help."
Ygritte didn't necessarily look pleased at the request. "I swear to da gods, Jon. If you weren't as good with yer tongue and yer cock as ye are…I would tell ya to fuck off. But seeing as how ya are…what do ya need me to do?"
"Fire," Jon said calmly. "As hot as you can make it concentrated on the wood and the egg. I'll use the Force to keep it contained. You just provide the fire."
Smirking, Ygritte rolled up the sleeve of her right arm, revealing the talisman that he'd collected from Valyria strapped to her arm. "Well, that's not such a difficult request. But I still demand repayment, Jon. I ain't your walkin fire starter."
Knowing that her 'price' would be enjoyable for both, he simply nodded, his eyes never leaving the egg as he held out his hands and prepared himself for Ygritte to let loose her fire. "Same as last time I asked something of you?"
"Yup, da Lords Kiss till I'm satisfied." He could hear the smile on Ygritte's face as her talisman covered arm joined next to his own, tendrils of fire dancing between her fingers, itching to be let loose. "Now, let's begin."
Standing before the large funeral pyre, Dany watched on silently as her husband was carefully laid down upon it. Beside her stood her three handmaidens, as well as Ser Jorah and Rakharo while she held Rhaego in her arms. Once her husband was set down, the witch was brought forth, or rather dragged forth as she was still suffering from…whatever it was that Dany had done to her. The two Dothraki dragging her paused for just a moment as she was brought before Dany. The witch had recovered just enough to regain her hateful glare. "If you expect me to scream again or beg…I won't."
Tilting her head, Dany forced down the anger within her that was desperately trying to get free once more. "I do not want your screams nor your pleas. I merely wish for your death."
With a slight twitch of her head, the two Dothraki dragged the witch to the funeral pyre and used several lengths of rope to tie her in place. Once the witch was in place, Dany handed her son off to Doreah before turning towards Irri and Jhiqui. In Irri's hands was a burning torch. And in Jhiqui's was the warm dragon egg that Domeric Bolton had gifted her seemingly a lifetime ago. Taking the offered torch in one hand and the egg in the other, Dany turned her attention back to the pyre. She took a single step forward before stopping as Ser Jorah moved into her path. "Khaleesi," the word was so…full of emotion that it sounded like he was almost begging her, "I don't know what you have planned…but think of your son…of those still here with you before you step upon that pyre."
Meeting his eyes, Dany kept herself devoid of any fear of what she was about to do. In truth, she didn't even fully know what she was about to do. She just knew that, for some reason, she needed to do this. "Fire cannot kill a dragon, Ser Jorah. Quite the opposite…as you will soon see."
Pushing her way past Ser Jorah, Dany made her way to the pyre and climbed up. Looking down at her husband, her sun and stars, Dany felt the pain of his loss deep within her. 'May you find your way to the Great Stallion, my love.' She whispered, laying the dragon egg upon his chest. Raising the torch high, Dany met the eye of everyone who had chosen to stay with them. "Fire does not kill a dragon! Dragons are born of fire! And through fire and blood, shall they be reborn!" And with that, she let go of the torch.
Watching his new Apprentices putting the final touches on their lightsabers, Nox was nearly knocked over as he felt a wave of pure Force energy pass over him. And he was not the only one as every one of his Apprentices rocked slightly and began looking around almost frantically. "Master!" Arya called out breathlessly, her lightsaber in her hands and ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. "Wh – What was—?"
Nox didn't answer in words. Instead he just help up his hand, the single gesture silencing the little wolf almost immediately. This…sensation. A…vergence had just transpired. But where? How? And more than that the Force felt…almost pleased and – and there was something else as well. Something strong…impossibly strong in the Force.
Hearing several startled gasps, Nox used his Force sight to see that his Apprentices were all facing skywards. Reaching out his senses, Nox immediately found what had drawn their attention. "The…the Red Comet." Sansa breathed, giving name to the phenomenon.
Nox wasn't sure just what exactly this comment was…but there was one thing for certain. It was heavily laden with the Force. Just like Korriban and Tython only…condensed. Like both planets had been compressed down into this single comet that was passing so close to this planet that it was clearly visible from the ground. The comet, or asteroid he couldn't truly tell, was a honest Force nexus of both dark side and light side Force energies. And it was so…potent. Nox almost felt like his own connection to the Force was…deepening just from being on the surface of this planet as it passed them by. Was…Was this the reason for this planet's unusual connection to the Force? Or was the Force nexus drawn to this world? Or both? And as the Red Comet passed them by, Nox realized once again, that the more he learned of this world…the more questions he had.
Rushing out onto the balcony that was attached to the room she'd been given, Melisandre watched with a wide smile as the Red Comet passed overhead. Feeling the red jewel she wore warm, she instinctively held onto the stone as she closed her eyes and basked in the feeling of the blessing of the one true god R'hllor. 'I'm on the right path,' she thought with a smile, feeling the magic within her…not strengthen but rather…sharpen. Like a sword fresh from the wet stone. 'And R'hllor has sent his blessing upon me to complete his task. I will not fail you, my lord. I have found your champion…and I will bring him to your side.'
Groaning, Jon raised his head from the cold dirt and leaves he'd been sleeping upon. 'When did I… Where am I?' Rubbing at his head, Jon tried to clear his thoughts as he pieced together what'd happened. 'I remember waking before dawn…and judging by how light it is its well past dawn now…then I came out here to the godswood…Ygritte followed me and we…'
His memory returning to him, he glanced first to Ygritte, who was still sleeping soundly beside him, then towards the fire they had created. Which was now nothing more than a smoldering pile of charred sticks and dying embers. But that was it…There…The egg he'd placed in the center of the fire was…gone.
Hearing a low whine, he turned his head to his other side and saw Ghost lying beside him, his friend's bloodred eyes staring at him intently. "Ghost," Jon groaned, sitting up as he did so. "What…What happened an—?"
His words died in his throat as he saw Ghost's fur sway. Then a dark shape slowly emerged from within the warmth of the fur. A small black lizard looking creatures with a silver, almost white, stripe running across it's back and down the length of each wing. The creature's head rose as its eyes stared intently at Jon. The moment his eyes met the eyes of the creature, he felt a bond immediately form between the two of them. One just like the one he shared with Ghost. Giving an excited yip, the creature scrambled the rest of the way out of Ghost's fur and stumbled its way across the ground towards Jon.
As the creature reached him and started squealing at him, a sensation of a want for comfort and food seeping through the bond, Jon was struck with just a single thought as he stared at the small…dragon…before him. "Oh…fuck."
By the time the last of the embers died, dawn was just starting to break over the horizon. Jorah had not slept a single moment since Daenerys, Dany…his Khaleesi, had lit the pyre aflame with herself still upon it. His first instinct had been to run and save her. But something held him back. He didn't know what it was but…his body simply wouldn't move. And so, he knelt before the pyre and did something he had not done in a long, long time. He prayed to the old gods of the North. Not for himself. But rather that they turn their blessings upon the one he truly believed was worthy of following.
Hearing the rest of the camp starting to rouse themselves, Ser Jorah slowly made his way into the clearing smoke. As he neared what was the center of the pyre, he saw something. A figure. No. A woman who was hunched over. One more step, and the figure slowly started to rise. As she did, Jorah felt…gods he didn't know what he felt. Awe. Relief? Disbelief? Everything…as Daenerys Targaryen rose from the ashes. Her clothes and hair were gone, yet there was no mistaking her. Just as he was about to order for clothes to be brought forth, his voice failed him as he heard an almost…chirping noise coming from her.
Glancing down, and doing all he could not to stare at her breast or sex, he saw her arms forming a cradle before her stomach. And in the cradle was a small black creature. 'By the gods,' his strength left him as he went down to one knee before her. 'A dragon…she…she hatched a dragon!'
Closing the flap of his tent, Septon Bulgar cursed the idiocy of these simple-minded folk. All of Harrenhal was gossiping about the Red Comet that'd flown overhead. All day he'd had to listen to the never-ending gossiping and it was driving him insane. These fools honestly believed that the comet held some sort of power? Ridiculous. The only power, true power, was within the Seven-Who-Are-One. But that still didn't stop these nonbelieving heathens from crafting outlandish tales about how the comet was a sign from the Old Gods or some such nonsense. Honestly, just hearing of the Old Gods was enough to make him want to curse. The Old Gods were not true gods. And it infuriated him to no end when these fools insisted that not only were they gods, but that their power was somehow greater than the Seven's.
"It's the heathenistic North!" he cursed. "They are drawing the minds of these simple fools away with some fancy tricks. Don't they realize that by even buying these false mummeries for even a moment damns them in the eyes of the Seven! They need to die! They all need to die!"
And he was not alone in this thought either. Many true believers thought as he did. But they were unfortunately too few to act, and the King was too much of a fool to heed their warnings. That was why he'd taken action by provoking the young wolf boy. He'd been hoping that the fool would strike him, which would give him all the credence he would need to rile the true believers. But no. The boy had not done as he should have! Instead of striking him, he merely smeared shit over his robes and walked away!
Hearing his tent open, he turned ready to tell whoever had entered to leave him. "I am in no mood to hear whate – oh! I…By the Seven, forgive my lack of manners."
His new guest didn't say anything, and Bulgar felt himself tremble. "You were given a simple assignment from the Seven. You were to enrage the young wolf and force him to show his true self so that we might better save the people from the heathens of the North. You failed."
Bulgar immediately went down to one knee, head bowed in reverence. "I – I have another plan. I will not fail again."
"No." Bulgar winced but kept his head down as his guest walked towards him. "Your plans are worthless. But you will still have a part to play in what is to come."
Because his head was bowed, he never saw the dagger coming until it pierced his back. Collapsing and gasping for breath, Bulgar tried to pull the dagger out, but he couldn't reach where it was in his back. "Bu–Bu…I – I did all – all you – asked of – of me…"
"Indeed, you did," his guest said as Bulgar's life left him. "And now, you will do your final part before going to the Seven."