I know some of you guys are still realing from Jon's origins. Please just keep in mind that this is my story and I will do what I want whether or not you dislike it or don't think it's canon. That's why it's fanfiction :] and you guys had to know I wasn't going to make him Rhaegar's son, I made it perfectly clear I do not like writing incest and that would make Jon/Dany incest.
Anyways, please enjoy this chapter! I'm glad to be back! :]
Bran left his human body with ease; already half in Drogon, the warg took almost no effort. Bran sighed in relief as he felt Drogon's heightened senses return completely. He had gotten used to seeing through the Dragon's eyes he liked it. The more vivid colors and smells, never being cold, he could get used to it.
He nodded to the cream and gold dragoness awaiting him.
Viserion growled in response, obviously impatient.
Viserion plucked his body from Jojen and the guard with ease.
Bran flapped his wings and took to the air, hovering a few feet above the ground he grabbed the blacksmith and girl with his backclaws.
Meera hadn't come back to see him off.
Oh well, while his heart still panged for her there were far more pressing matters.
With one last look at Jojen and Howland, Bran took to the skies and towards the Wall.
"Then why are you telling me this?" Bran asked, "If this could jeopardize my brothe—cousin's life then why not take the secret to your grave."
"You don't understand, Brandon, the secret is going to come out, the weirdwoods are whispering, someone knows the secret and it's going to come out, you have to tell him, he has to know the truth before someone does it for you and in front of someone who could use it again him and you're family."
Bran nodded, telling Jon was going to be hard. Jon was honorable, selfless, his broth—cousin modeled himself after his fath—uncle and other uncle Benjen. To learn he wasn't Eddard Stark's son was going to destroy him, to learn he was the product of rape was going to be even harder. Bran wasn't looking forward to what laid ahead.
Arya rummaged through her things.
Her quarters always looked like someone had ransacked them. Weapons, books and clothes strewn about.
She was collecting anything sharp that she could throw at Rickon for their training session today.
No one moved faster than someone who had pointy things being thrown at them.
After she had gotten him to sleep, Shaggydog had followed her around, bored.
He was as wild and stubborn as his master.
"When was the last time you slept, you dumb beast," Arya turned to him.
The black behemoth of a direwolf barked at her and jumped up at put his front paw on the top of her shoulders.
She frowned and knocked him back onto all fours, "By the old gods and the new, your breath is horrible! I apologize for the dumb beast comment."
"Don't worry, they'll only be flesh wounds, he'll be as good as new in a fortnight," Arya scoffed as she grab a vest off the floor. It looked torn to bits, she rummaged through the pockets when a needle pricked her finger.
"Blast it!" Arya put the bleeding finger in her mouth and a chill ran up her spine.
Arya collapsed and Shaggydog ran a circle around her, whining.
Arya struggled to pull herself up using her bedpost, her limbs feeling like sludge. She clenched the bed post tightly with one arm and held her other hand up to her face. She tried to move her fingers. They weren't obeying her.
Shaggydog whined at her side.
"Well no shite, I'm in trouble," She growled at the direwolf, "I need to get to Jon."
It took every ounce of preternatural strength she had but she managed to crawl to the door, pull the damned hundred pound thing open and crawl out the door.
It was early in the morning, dawns light just peaking through the trees, it bounced off the snow and lit Castle Black in gray light.
Where the hell were the Crows?
You'd think one of them would be on guard duty and be wandering the halls! Arya growled and continued to stumble to Jon's study.
She made it outside and to the stairs that led to the study.
She collapsed onto the stairs and clawed her way slowly towards the top.
Jon's hands travelled to Dany's waist, his hands were calloused like Drogo's hands had been, rough on her pale silk covered skin.
The hands of a warrior.
She moaned into this mouth, she had never been so turned on by a kiss before.
Their kiss finally ended and they pulled apart.
Electrictiy passing between them, their eyes met, lilac and black.
Fire and Ice. Stone and feathers.
Who was the ice and who was the fire?
Dany didn't know anymore.
His hands were still on her hips, one travelled up her body, ghosting over her curves and up to her face, brushing down her cheek.
"You're beautiful," He whispered, his eyes dark and troubled, "I shouldn't have done that."
"You shouldn't have," Dany smirked, "But I am glad you did, I've been waiting."
"Oh have you?" He grinned and Dany's heart fluttered. His smiles were rare, this stern and stoic Commander of the Night's Watch.
"I—" Dany was about to defend herself from his teasing when his office door burst open and they jumped apart as if they had burnt eachother.
Arya Stark collapsed through the door onto the stone floor of Jon's office, Shaggydog whimpering behind her.
"J-Jon," Arya groaned, Jon knelt to his sister.
"Arya, what's wrong? Are you injured?" Jon scanned her for wounds.
"D-Death's Nudge!" Arya gasped, "Poison, I'm so stupid."
The girl's skin was turning gray and blue, her silver eyes were blood shot and her lips gray.
She started to pass out and Jon scooped the her into his arms, "Shit."
In the miniscule amount of time Dany had known Arya Stark, she had never realized the girl was so small. The younger Stark female seemed like a force of nature, always in men's clothing and heavily armed. But in her elder brother's arms, she was as small as a child.
Something was bugging her about her poisoning but she didn't have time to ponder what as Jon ran from the room and Dany could do nothing but follow.
King Aegon had gathered any and all of his fighting force in front of the Red Keep.
Gold cloaks, white cloaks, bannermen and other allies from around the world stood before him.
Addressing the crowd, he announced his plans of war.
In the back were the Sand Snakes.
"About time something interesting happened in King's Landing since the Queen left," Obara scoffed.
"Oh and the dragons escaping yesterday was just a normal occurrence then?" Tyene rolled her eyes at her sister.
"She probably means the most interesting thing involving us," Nymeria jumped to Obara's defense.
Obara grimaced at Tyene, "Yeah what she said."
"Geez no reason to jump down my throat, you lumbering oaf," Tyene sneered and fixed her hair into place, the wind was giving her a few flyaway blonde hairs.
"Nymeria, you need to shut Tyene up before I bruise her pretty pale skin," Obara growled but Nymeria was busy flirting with a guard.
"Oh Nym, did you actually find a man in King's Landing you haven't slept with?" Tyene laughed.
Nymeria shrugged, "There's nothing wrong with liking men and the carnal delights they can provide me."
"Like you're any better," Obara poked Tyene in the shoulder, jostling the smaller woman, almost making Tyene lose her balance.
"I'm the daughter of a septa, I have to maintain a bit more decorum than the likes of you two," Tyene scoffed.
Nymeria's gaze returned to her sisters, "Septas remain vows of chastity, you are an abomination Tyene!"
Men around the tried to shush them, the Sand Snakes ignored them.
Obara laughed, "Haha, I bet that hurts the Poison Sand Snake's immense ego."
"Well, abominations aside, at least I'm not a thirty year old maiden," Tyene smiled at Obara.
Nymeria laughed hysterically, "Is what Tyene says true, no one has popped your cherry yet, Obara?"
Obara growled at her sisters, "I don't know why I came to King's Landing with the likes of either of you."
"Vengeance against the Lannisters, maybe?" Tyene smiled, "To follow an independent queen?"
"Ah yes, I do not like this Aegon," Obara grimaced, "I don't care if he claims to be the son of our aunt, our cousin, I'm not believing it."
"Nor do I but he's got the forboding ancestral sowrd, fancy little crown and the pointy gaudy throne, we must listen to him," Nymeria shrugged. "I really don't understand why men think they have all of the power. The sight of a naked woman can turn almost any man into a shapeless, moldeable pile of clay ready for manipulation. We have the real power."
Obara nodded, "A swift kick between the legs would make any man bow to a woman."
"I could end it now, even from here with a poison needle, it would be easy," Tyene grinned, "What do you think sisters?"
Nymeria stopped Tyene from pulling out any poison needles, "That may be a fine idea sister but who would take the throne? The queen is gone, we wouldn't want any surviving Lannisters or Tyrells trying to claim the Iron Throne."
"You may be right sister," Obara grimaced.
Tyene nodded, "It's not like any of us could take the throne anyways."
Sam sat in the library, which was also his unofficial office, recording the Watch's recent history.
Peace with the Wildlings.
Dragons on the Wall.
A king marching north to fight the Watch.
Sam was the luckiest Maester the Watch ever had, he had so many interesting stories to document.
His only problem was having the time to document them.
His first goal as Maester Aemon's successor had been to teach all of the Crows their letters and numbers, born into a noble family, it was baffling that these men could fight and die and live their entire lives not knowing twenty six simple letters.
It had been a daunting task but he succeeded. He had taught every member of the Watch to read and do simple arithmetic.
His next was to attempt to civilize the Wildlings and teach them their letter and numbers as well.
His success was still up in the air, his current student was Val.
The Wildling woman usually got so frustrated during her lessons she hit something. That something usually him.
He remembered she was supposed to be arriving sometime this morning for another lesson.
He wasn't expecting her after last night's festivities, she was probably nursing a horrible hangover.
A knock came on the wooden door of the library.
His experiences at the Wall had made him paranoid about his safety. White walkers, whites, specters, sorceresses and three eyes crows had made him paranoid.
He refused to be alone in a room without the door being locked.
When he rose from his chair, his back and legs cracked loudly, he had been sitting since the extravaganza last night, a good twelve hours.
The knocking grew frantic.
"I'm coming!" Sam squeaked, praying it wasn't an emergency, were they already under attack by Aegon? White Walkers? Some ungodly, unseen new foe?
He silently prayed to the Seven none of the three were the case.
His prayers were answered.
He opened the door to Jon carrying Lady Arya, Lady Daenerys at his side.
"By the Mother, is she okay?" Sam squeaked.
"Poison," Jon grimaced, Sam met his dear friend's eyes, there was something Jon was hiding.
"Can you be more specific, what kind? Do you know?" Sam asked as Jon laid Arya on an empty table.
"Lady Daenerys, you don't have to stay here with us, I'll let you know how Arya is after," Jon turned to the former queen.
"I want to stay," Dany whispered, her eyes glued to the youngest female Stark.
Jon sighed, "Alright."
Jon squeezed Arya's hands, "She was poisoned by Death's Nudge."
Sam turned from Jon and Arya to Lady Daenerys, the former queen's face was pursed in deep thought.
Bran could see the Wall.
"I remember this horrible, cold place," Viserion growled.
"Aye, just feel lucky you haven't nearly starved or frozen to death near it," Bran sighed, "I used to think it was beautiful but now I wish I could never see it again."
Viserion nodded her head in ascent, her nostrils flared, "We are close, I can smell my mother, my brother and my son."
Bran was surprised, had the Dragon Queen been here all along?
Viserion flapped her massive wings harder, the golden membranes in them glistening in the morning light.
Banging on Sansa's door awoke her, she had fallen asleep on Sandor's muscled chest.
Her hound was still sound asleep.
"Love," She patted his face, "There's someone here looking for me, you need to hide."
Sandor's eyes fluttered open and he drowsily nodded in agreement.
A few grumpy sounding grunts later he was hidden in her large wardrobe.
"Come in!" Sansa called, wrapping a thick robe around her and pulled the blankets up to her chin.
Brienne, Podrick and Davos walked in.
"Sorry to disturb you so early milady and when you are improper and sleeping, my deepest apologies," Davos sputtered, "But we are unable to locate your Lord Commander brother and we have a pretty dire situation on our hands."
Sansa's heart thudded, "W-what is that?"
"There are dragons approaching the wall," Podrick interrupted Davos who started to speak, "And they have human hostages! One of which appears to be your brother Bran."
Sansa threw the covers off and ran out the door, the three following after her.
They were already drawing attention Bran sighed.
He had been hoping to land a bit away from Castle Black in hopes he could warg out of Drogon unnoticed and help Viserion calm the black behemoth.
Viserion growled, "I can smell my mother but I cannot see her."
"I'm sure she's fine, look, I can see your brother Rhaegal on top of Castle Black," Bran remembered the slow roaster from King's Landing. The emerald and bronze dragon was like an oversized cat, he loved to nap and sun himself. He sure wasn't getting much at Castle Black but it looked like it wasn't stopping him from trying.
They headed for a clearing directly in front of Castle Black.
Everyone was going to see him warg.
He hoped this wasn't a mistake.
Why did that sound so familiar to Dany?
"His pins are poisoned, soaked in Death's Nudge," Tyene Sand, her poison master, cried.
Dany's eyes widened and she started to shake as a leaf.
Had Arya Stark been the one to make an attempt on her life?
She shook her head as Maester Tarly and Jon worked to save Arya Stark's life.
There was no way, for one her assassin had been an elderly man not a young woman in her late teens or early twenties.
Her eyes scanned Arya for any trace of familiarity with the tailor.
Her eyes landed on an odd patch on Arya Starl's knife pouch. The patch was half black and half white, a dagger pointing upward was embroidered in gold on the black side and a black key pointing downward on the white side.
The House of Black and White
Assassins to the Many-Faced god.
Faceless men who could take any human face they so choose.
Arya Stark was a Faceless Man.
Arya Stark had tried to kill her.
Dany looked around frantically.
She had just kissed the man who had probably ordered her death.
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