Thursday, January 31, 2019

A Flame Extinguished Chapter 17: The Second King

This is a Game of Thrones fic. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

This chapter has been edited due to content. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.


The vision faded and I was back in Winterfell. I held onto the image of Bear Island for as long as I could. It was such a peaceful thought that it made my eyes water. If only she had lived and we had gone on to have a peaceful existence on Bear Island. Even though that would have never happened, it was a thought I clung onto.

Once the sadness passed, I felt more alive than ever before. My purpose in this life was more clear than it had ever been. I turned my head and looked at Jon. He was naked except for the covers that went over his body. The heat from our lovemaking had kept us warm throughout the night. It had pushed the cold away so that the rising sun didn't have to melt our bodies.

With care I got out of bed and started looking for clothing. Dragonstone. Khaleesi. Drogon. The vision had terrified me at some points. To think that I could ever ride a dragon was insanity. There was no possibility it could ever work. Yet Daenerys' certainty was something that couldn't be doubted. Especially after the wisdom she had attained after dying. She could see a reality that was foreign to me. Unlike in life, she was the one that advised me.

"We can sleep in." Jon's voice said.

I turned to see my love's eyes half-way open. His head was just barely turned to look at me. It was humorous. Jon was a strong man and yet now a slight wind could defeat him. I got dressed and saw a look of disappointment cross his face. It wasn't anger or wrath, just sadness I wouldn't be ******* him right now. He knew that we had our lives ahead of us to make love. It wouldn't do to cause an argument because of one loss.

"Bad dream or a good one?" Jon asked sleepily.

"Mixed." I replied and finished getting myself presentable. "At points I felt more alive and yet others made me feel fear."

"Fear?"

"Yes, Jon, I can still feel fear."

I chuckled at his surprise. He wasn't awake enough to make any decisions. If he were able to form a coherent conversation, he wouldn't ask me if I felt fear. We had fought together so he knew how I expressed my unease. He knew very well how I could feel despair and fight anyways. He had never seen me break apart on the battlefield. The first time I had killed it had taken all my strength not to vomit. To see someone die because of you, no matter the need, was hard on a person. But it was something all knights had to ignore. The only other option was to die a dishonorable death.

"Strange." Jon replied.
For a few moments I thought he had fallen asleep. His eyes had closed and his breathing had changed. But a second later he looked up at me. His eyes doing their best to remember me. To remember this moment. It was a fear we hadn't truly discussed yet. I was an old man and my years were numbered. Even if it had been a time of peace in the Seven Kingdoms, I would die soon. My death would leave Jon alone and seeking another king or queen. Jon was holding onto me because he knew I would be on my deathbed soon enough. These memories would stop being made after the war.

"Was it another vision?" Jon asked.

"Yes, it was." I replied. "This time she said I'm Drogon's father and rider."

"You going to touch him?"

"I am going to make an attempt."

To put my had on Drogon's snout would be a terrifying moment. It would quickly become apparent if Khaleesi had been honest or not. My last moments in the world could be full of dragonfire. The last thing I'd feel would be pain. Pain of a kind that would be impossible to explain to anyone else. I had seen Khaleesi execute a man by dragon before. Back when Drogon was young. The battle with Euron Greyjoy's men had seared into my mind what death by dragon sounded like. What it smelled like. What it looked like.

"I could help you." Jon said and then attempted to get up.

"You still need some sleep." I told him and sat on the edge of the bed. "You shouldn't tire yourself out like this."

"I can't help myself around you."

I leaned down and we kissed. My love's kisses were passionate without direction. I guided him with my own lips and hands. My body tried to push me in a direction I didn't want. It would be smart of me to stop kissing yet I couldn't. One of my hands helped him sit up.

"Stay." Jon begged with his words and lips.

"You need to wake up sometime today." I said and stopped. "So rest and later I will fulfill my duties as your husband."

The Stark lay back and looked up at me. As always his body was inviting. Even when I hadn't admitted my feelings, he was desirable. Now, though I wasn't perfect, he had decided to marry me. He had decided to dedicate himself to me just as I had to him.

"Be safe." Jon said. "We can ride dragons together."

"If the dream is true, we can." I replied.

"Afraid."

I was about to ask him what he meant, but he had fallen asleep. Had it meant I was afraid to ride a dragon? Did he mean he was afraid for my safety? Or did he mean both at the same time?

It wouldn't do any good to disturb him. Jon needed his rest as odd things could happen during times of war. There could be days of inaction followed by weeks that didn't allow people to sleep for very long. It was good that he had found time to rest. In a few short hours sleep might be a luxury. I kissed his forehead and then left the room.

I was now sleeping in his room and had left my own to be occupied by other people. The chill in the castle seemed to indicate that the dead were coming. Or maybe it was just my fear getting to me. For some unexplainable reason, the dead were easier to deal with than the thought of riding Drogon.

"Jorah?" A familiar voice asked.

I turned to see Sansa. As always she looked regal. She had a fire in her that could freeze the bravest of men. She had been trained by Littlefinger and had gained his cleverness. Unlike him, though, she was able to have a kind heart. She cared about her family and gods help the man who dared harm them.

"Sansa Stark?" I said with a small bow.

"You don't need to bow to me." She replied with a small smile. "You outrank me. You're the King of Westeros. Well, one of them."

"It's been too long since I have had a title. Ser had little meaning when I wasn't allowed back home. Even king means nothing to me until Lyanna Mormont forgives me."

"I am sure she will. If you weren't a good man, Jon would have never married you. He wouldn't even have made you his lover."

"He is a wise for his age. He can see things others can't."

"And is blind to things everyone else can. But, with you by his side, he can be stronger."
I nodded in agreement as we continued to walk. We all had our strengths and weaknesses. What made a person strong was finding those that could counteract their weaknesses. Jon had much heart and yet not a lot of political expertise, so he surrounded himself with people whose strength was political maneuvering. People who could see four and five steps ahead of any decision. Tyrion and Sansa were the two who could do that kind of maneuvering the best.

"You have done well to him and me." I said. "When I die I-"

"You're not going to die anytime soon." Sansa said. "Please tell me you've talked to Jon about this."

"You and him both know I am old. I might not seem so at times, but I am. Jon will live a much longer life than me. I'll discuss how he'll go seeking his next king or queen after the war. For now I'll remain silent on the matter. There are already too many things to fill our time."

"Why are you telling me?"

"You're the more politically keen person. I need you to be keeping an eye out for candidates. You'll also be the person who can convince Jon."

Sansa avoided looking at me. I had trusted her more than Jon in this moment. My love would be overtaken by grief while his sister would remain strong. She could look at things coldly and not let her emotions rule her. Jon...Jon had a black and white reading of morality. If I made him think about my death during the War for the Dawn, he would break. If he broke then Westeros could be lost to the living.

"Where are you going?" Sansa asked.

We were very close to one of the gates. Once out of the castle it would be a ten minute walk to the dragons. Two guards had started to follow us as they realized my destination. It wouldn't do to have the royal family murdered at such a time. Sansa and I glanced at each other and nodded. We saw no harm from the two guards. They weren't traitors. And if they were I wasn't defenseless. My hand rested on Longclaw's hilt.

"Daenerys visited me in another dream." I replied calmer than I felt. "She said that I could ride Drogon. It would be best if both dragons had riders. Dragonfire has a magical element and could be the only thing that can make a dent in the enemy's forces."

"And Lightbringer will be able to kill the Night King." Sansa replied. "Without the dead being held back there would be no point in your part. You would be a weapon that had no chance to get to the heart."

The Stark handed me a scowl and I read it. She looked forward and helped guide me while my focus was elsewhere.

Your Graces,

I hope you have not read my delay as a slight against you. During this time of war I needed to make sure my House was well taken care of. If I should die on the way to Winterfell or back, there needs to be someone to take my place. By the time you recieve this letter, I shall already be making my journey to you.

Your Friend and Servant,

Howland Reed


I rolled the scroll back up and handed it to Sansa. There was no disrespect for looking at a letter from Howland. She was entrusted with everything, especially when the kings were asleep. If things had been different she would make a great Hand.

"Could Howland be worried about telling the truth?" I asked.

When people kept secrets for so long it was hard to tell the truth. It was hard knowing that lies no longer needed to be told. A fierce wind blew and I blinked to get the snow out of my eyes. Sansa's hair whipped across her face. Part of me wanted to gingerly move the hair out of her eyes. But that would be too personal of a gesture for us right now.

"It is a possibility." Sansa replied. "He might think this is some trap that he needs to avoid. But duty to House Stark will make him come here."

"Not just duty." I said. "Relief that he doesn't have to keep the secret anymore."

"Do you know Howland personally?"

"I don't need to. I know how it feels to hold a secret to the point it tears into you. I know the repercussions of holding onto things for too long. Howland kept his secret out of honor while I did so out of fear. He won't feel the need to hold onto his secret as tightly as I did."
We left the safety of the castle as the two guards followed us. I looked up to see Drogon and Rhaegal playing with each other. From time to time they let out a loud roar. The sound was deafening and yet not as pure as in the vision. In the place where Khaleesi now rested, things were in their purest form. In the land of the living, though, there were barriers. There were things that couldn't be done. So I didn't even flinch when Daenerys' children dove down and the guards turned in fear.

Once they, and Sansa, recovered they pretended as if nothing had happened. As if they hadn't nearly ran away in panic. The guards couldn't make me believe they were actually strong. Sansa, on the other hand, appeared as if nothing had affected her. That was the difference between royalty and a commoner. Jon had shown that that barrier could be breached.

"We'll need to wait until Drogon lands." I said calmly and looked at the two guards. "I am certain that you can keep yourselves calm until I am done."

"Do you plan to ride Drogon today?" Sansa asked.

I was suddenly taken back to the fighting pit. I had decided to earn Daenerys' favor by killing in her name. To show her my strength as that is what she loved. She had loved Khal Drogo because he was strong. She had admired Daario because he was untamed. So there was a good chance she would forgive me after I spit blood in her name. And during the fight I could tell she was beginning to forgive me for what I was risking for her. Then...then everything had gone wrong. The Sons of the Harpy had attacked and Drogon had returned to save her. No one had seen another ride a dragon in many years. I was there when Daenerys rode her child. That wasn't a legacy a man like me could follow.

"I don't know." I told her. "It all depends on what Drogon wants. It might be that Daenerys was wrong in what she told me. It could be that he will burn me alive. We won't be able to tell anything until he lands."

"Daenerys hasn't been wrong yet." Sansa replied. "If she told you that you can ride Drogon, you can. You don't need to worry about failing."

"And what would be the point of me riding Drogon?"

"It's her gift to you. She probably still feels horrible for how she mistreated you. You risked everything for her and she sent you away. She made you prove yourself to her yet again."

"I do not blame Daenerys for what she did. I shouldn't have lied to her and given her the ability to doubt me."

Sansa was about to reply when Rhaegal flew off and Drogon landed a few feet away from me. The Stark started to step back but stopped herself. The two guards, though, went back ten feet before they came to their senses. I would've reprimanded them but dragons were fearsome creatures. Especially to those who weren't bounded to them.

Drogon looked at me and I felt a shiver go down my spine. He had grown since his mother's death. There was a pained look in his eyes as if he were dying. His eyes called me to him and yet my feet remained firmly planted. He let out a pained roar. It was a much higher and sharper sound than usual. By how Sansa reacted, it must feel threatening.

I took a deep breath and moved forward. With every movement I felt more sure of myself. It wouldn't do to show fear to Drogon. Even though it might be possible I could ride him, he wouldn't respect me if I was nervous. That lack of respect could mean any chance of riding him was lost.

I reached out a hand to him when I was close enough. Drogon's eyes looked over me and my body didn't flinch. Any mistake now could mean my death. Khaleesi was there for me after my last breath but there was work for me to do first. I was Azor Ahai Reborn and needed to stay alive so my task could be fulfilled. With another deep breath I put a hand on Drogon. My resolve nearly broke.

Drogon felt much different than I had imagined. He looked as smooth as a snake and yet there were ridges in unexpected places. His scales felt much different than a snake's and yet they were similar. It was an oddity that was hard for my mind to comprehend. Yet my mind would have to learn how to understand this dragon. This child of Khaleesi.

I focused on my breathing. I focused on each breath I took. This helped calm myself enough to not be eaten. Drogon's next move nearly undid everything. He leaned his head down and started to rub me with it. The motion was similar to that of a cat. I somehow managed to stay up until he stopped. He let out a roar of pleasure and then walked away.
"That was...I've never seen anything like it." Sansa said breathlessly.

"You saw Jon get on a dragon." I replied.

"It's not the same, though. He was always destined to ride a dragon. You were born in the North to Northern parents. You weren't born during any great conflict. You were allowed to grow up without the pressures Jon had. You riding Drogon is extremely different."

Without meaning to, I hugged her tightly against me. Surviving touching Drogon had made me feel different. It had made me feel more alive than ever before. Was this what Daenerys felt every time she rode Drogon? Did she experience this thrill when she watched her enemies burn beneath her? I could see how she got out of control at times.

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