This chapter has been edited due to content. I made minor edits in this chapter. If you want to see the unedited version GO HERE.
"Your Grace," One of the healers said. "Are you sure you don't want someone to tend to your wounds?"
During the fight with the Night King there hadn't been time to look at injuries. The only thing there had been time for was defeating the enemy. Once I had dismounted Drogon, I had been very aware of the wounds my husband and I had. Mine were minor scratches one picked up during battle, though the healers disagreed with my initial assessment. Jon, however, had a large scar on his back to add to his collection.
"I want to make sure my husband is properly taken care of." I replied and raised an eyebrow.
Either the healer was frightened of me or she understood my position so she remained silent. She knew those in love could become overly aggressive. She was doing a good job at tending to Jon who had tired desperately to say he was fine at first. Even now he looked at me sullenly. Yet he stayed still and was entirely obedient to the healer.
"We need to have a formal wedding after all this is over." Jon said and I could tell this conversation was merely to distract himself.
"We will." I replied. "It would be better if it was in King's Landing. Our people will want to see us in that city to be assured of how loyal we are to them."
"Won't winning the war accomplish that?"
"Politics is all about appeasing people. It's about doing what you want while not causing a rebellion."
I could understand the appeal of a wedding in the North. It was as if I could smell a feast on Bear Island and hear the bards. The air would've warmed up by then and the signs of spring were just beginning to show. In my dream there was my father looking at me with a smile on his face. I had finally earned his forgiveness and he was more than happy about my marriage.
"If we do it at the right time, we can have a wedding that won't cause a disruption." Jon said. "Right after the war people won't care where we get married."
"In any case we will need to figure out the easiest location to get people to." I replied. "We'll have to imagine that the war will have taken a toll on Westeros and people won't be keen on traveling. Yet such a celebration will allow them to heal faster. To show them after so much sorrow that there is a reason for celebration."
There was a moment where both of us remained silent and the healer started to tend to me. The moment of silence allowed both of us to worry about the devastation. Bear Island could be attacked, depending on if it were true the dead couldn't travel over water. Winterfell would be a prime location for the Night King to focus on as it was there Jon had been raised. It was there that the remaining Starks, minus Arya, stayed.
The Night King's devastation wouldn't stop in those two castles, of course, but spread throughout all of Westeros. For some evil reason his mission was to kill all of the living. He wouldn't stop until everything was dead. But what would happen after that? Would he rule Westeros as his own kingdom and accept trade from Essos? Or would he seek to destroy everything?
"Winterfell might be destroyed." Jon said.
"We must not think of that now." I replied as the healer put salves into my cuts. "Once the fighting is over we can visit there."
"Your wounds should heal in less than a fortnight." The healer said once she was finished. "King Stark's will take a little longer. I suggest caution if you two plan to continue consummating your marriage."
Jon looked away embarrassed and I nodded. As she walked off I scoffed at the idea of making love to him now. There could be an attack any moment and we needed to keep ourselves ready. After lovemaking we could both become too tired to fight. It wouldn't do for the kings of Westeros to fall asleep during a battle.
"Tyrion would probably joke about making love the moment she left." I said with a small smile. "He'd word it much differently."
"To the point that it'd actually be funny." Jon replied and we both chuckled.
"In any case we do need to get our rest. The Night King is gone, but I am sure he'll be back to kill the last dragon."
Both of us made our way to the bed and went under the covers. They kept us warm as anything could. It was impossible to get away from the cold, especially with the army of the dead so close. Jon put his head on my chest and I ran my fingers through his hair. Feeling him so close to me made it seem as though the battle never happened. I was sure if I stepped out of the tent there would be Rhaegal next to Drogon.
I ran one finger down the scar on his back. Jon groaned but allowed me to explore his body as I would. It must have happened during the fight with the Night King. Most likely from a brush with one of Viserion's claws. If he had gotten any closer to the undead dragon, he would've fallen to the ground in shreds. I shuddered at the thought.
"I'm alive." Jon reassured me and kissed my neck. "You rode Drogon to save me."
"When I saw you falling, I wasn't thinking." I replied. "Nothing existed but you."
"If you came earlier you could've saved Rhaegal."
"I would like to think so. I would like to blame myself by not mounting Drogon sooner. But none of us can know."
"You're right."
There was such pain in his voice that I kissed him to calm him. As always my body had such a yearning it was hard to push it back. Against all my instincts, I managed to merely lie with Jon in my arms. I should've accepted him sooner. Possibly I could've abandoned my pursuit for Daenerys to have more moments like these. But, no, Khaleesi and I were bond deeper than logic.
"If your graces aren't busy." Bronn said as he walked in. "The Wildling Tormund wants to speak to you. Well, not both of you."
Jon turned over and looked at the sellswod who had become Tyrion's friend. The reason for my love's interest was extremely clear. Tormund was one of the Wildlings that had eventually become Jon's friend. We hadn't heard any news from Eastwatch, the place where the Wildling had last been.
"I'll be there." Jon said but I held him down.
"You need your rest, Jon," I reminded him. "That wound on your back needs time to heal. This is one of the rare opportunities where you don't have anywhere to be. From an old man, rest while you can."
Jon nodded and I removed myself from him. As I got dressed I wondered, as many of us often did, about the scope of the Night King's army. It was huge before he had crossed into Westeros and with each death it expanded. Most likely he had spread out throughout the Seven Kingdoms to wreck havoc. All he needed to lead an attack was at least one White Walker.
"Tormund will be happy to see you?" Bronn asked as we walked to the Wildling. "I didn't think Wildlings took kindly to us."
"These are strange times." I replied. "It's no longer a matter of divisions like before."
The man merely shrugged. Tormund had been put in one of the healer's tents. After I gathered myself, I went into the tent. There before me was a man mere seconds from death. Yet even in his demise Tormund still had a certain strength to him. Something I wouldn't have admired before getting the wight. It was good Jon wasn't here to see his friend like this. Better my husband remember his friend as he was in his prime.
"They haven't been able to get much out of him." Bronn said as I continued to look at Tormund. "The only thing he's said was 'Jon'. We figured that meant he was going to be able to talk."
I nodded and walked to Tormund's side. A few healers stood gathered around just in case their services were required. The man shivered even though he was under many layers of fur. His eyes looked around as if he saw an enemy that was visible only to him. I waited around an hour before any sanity returned to him.
"Jorah?" Tormund asked. "Where's Jon?"
"Recovering from his own injuries." I replied. "He needs the rest before the next battle. What news do you bring from Eastwatch?"
"It doesn't exist anymore. Everyone is dead."
"How?"
"The Night King has a fucking dragon! Whatever one of Daenerys' dragons died is alive again. It breathed blue flames into the Wall and then everything turned into chaos."
I could now understand Tormund's fear. He had seen the destruction of Viserion first hand and it had broken him. Though, from what I knew of him, I believed he could recover from this catastrophe. We remained silent as the Wildling broke into a fit of madness and couldn't speak for a few minutes. It must also be the lack of food and water that had driven him to this state. Those symptoms, at least, could be fixed.
"How long has it been?" Tormund asked once some of his sanity returned.
"Long enough for the Night King to send his army against the living." I replied. "As he just needs one White Walker to control many wights, his army could spread quickly."
"And once someone dies they become one of his."
"Yes."
"You say Jon is hurt. Did you run into the army of the dead?"
"We were looking for the Night King and we found him."
Tormund didn't respond either because he didn't know how to or he was losing himself yet again. At least during the last battle I had known the dead were coming. We had planned to fight those foul creatures. There was bad and good on either side of any conflict. Yet the dead seemed to defy that. Maybe my statement to Khaleesi only applied to the living.
"Are you Jon's advisor now?" Tormund asked. "I don't think crows would send just anyone in place of him."
"No, they wouldn't." I agreed. "I am Jon's husband and he is the King of the Seven Kingdoms."
"He's the what now?"
Tormund started to laugh and Bronn chuckled. It was, somehow, less preferable than him staring off into darkness. How could the Wildling be surprised about Jon obtaining the most powerful position in Westeros? He had risen from the status of a bastard to King of the North. Of course he had it in him to sit on the Iron Throne.
"What about Daenerys?" Tormund asked. "Or did you two kill her?"
"No." I replied sternly. "She died and Jon was the only one suited to sit on the Iron Throne."
"But why did he choose you?"
"I don't know. I'm just glad he did."
A mixture of emotions washed over his face. He might have gained respect for me, but I was still not someone he liked. Yet now I was the husband of the only man from Westeros he admired.
"If Jon trusts you so much, then I do too." Tormund said reluctantly. "I assume once you leave that you'll tell him the news."
"I will." I replied. "And thank you for your trust. Once Jon is well enough he'll visit you."
Tormund nodded and I left the tent. Could Tormund's madness be mine one day? Months from now could it be me who only had minutes of sanity in a sea of madness? At least Jon would be beside me to guide me to pleasant shores. At least he would remain.
Those hopes were hard to bring to mind as icy winds dug at my skin. All that the winter promised was the death of everything I loved. It said that Jon would not survive and I remained a broken man. I had to reminded myself that those were the baseless and senseless fears of a child. My age and knowledge were much greater than that.
Was that a blessing or a curse?
"So the Night King used Viserion to break down part of the Wall." Bronn said as he came beside me. "And now the dead are marching onto Westeros. I'm sure glad he gave us that information."
"You're right, it changes nothing." I agreed. "That part of his message, anyways. The War for the Dawn has already started and Jon has faced off against the Night King. That part of Tormund's message changes nothing."
"He didn't say anything else."
"It's what he didn't say."
"Tyrion is right, you're smarter than you look."
Bronn's eyes had lit up with understanding. The mention of Tyrion brought fear to my heart. The Imp was not well suited to even a normal war. His stature was too short which made his lack of weapon expertise apparent. He was one suited to guide a battle, not be in one. In normal times the walls of Winterfell or Casterly Rock would keep him safe. But the dead could make walls crumble, especially when they had Viserion on their side.
A passing wave of fear was in Bronn's eyes when he mentioned Tyrion. The two were close as brothers and so they worried about each other. If we had been closer I would've reassured Bronn. As it was, he would dismiss any attempt at consoling.
"Eastwatch has been destroyed." Bronn said and shook his head. "No wonder he was so badly shaken. I've battled against Daenerys' army and dealt with Drogon. I had expected a dragon or two to show up and still I was shocked. The Wildling had no warning about an undead dragon."
"We all knew that the Night King had the ability to resurrect Viserion." I replied. "We just didn't agree if it was possible for him to get to Daenerys' child. I'm not sure exactly what Tormund believed, he must not have thought it a possibility. Though his current instability might be due to what his body endured."
"Before and after the attack. When he arrived it didn't look like he had eaten for days."
"Why wasn't I informed the moment he arrived?"
"You were being tended to and we weren't sure if Tormund was going to remain alive."
So he had been worse? It was very good, then, that Jon hadn't seen Tormund. The news alone would break my love's heart. I didn't know how to describe what I had seen in the tent. Especially when my duty as a husband would force me to keep him in bed. There couldn't be lies between us but that didn't mean I had to tell the whole truth. At least until the sun rose and we visited the Wildling.
"I belong at my husband's side." I told Bronn. "Have ravens to Castle Black and Winterfell about Eastwatch being destroyed. There may be those who will need to mourn the losses."
I felt more than safe having messages about Eastwatch sent. The Night King already knew about it and it provided no tactical advantages to our enemies. Though I doubted there'd be any but the dead that would rise against us. This was a strange time when all of humanity was united. We had a common enemy. The moment the Night King fell would be a time of peace and then it would take hard work to keep Westeros out of any wars.
Bronn nodded and I walked away. With each footstep I tried desperately to push the memory of Tormund from my mind. The warmth of my tent helped push the images away. Jon turned and looked at me. We were silent as I took off my armor.
"What did Tormund have to say?" Jon asked once I was finished.
"Eastwatch was where the Night King broke through." I replied. "Tormund was the only survivor. We will see him tomorrow."
"I'm ready to see him now."
"Even if you are well enough to visit the Wildling, he needs his rest. The terror he felt at seeing Viserion and surviving the journey to our camp has worn down his mind and body. He needs a night's rest before he will be able to talk again."
"I should've been there."
"Jon, you can't be everywhere at once. There will be losses in your life that you must learn to accept. You made sure that Eastwatch was as guarded as it could be. It is no one's fault that you didn't see Viserion breaking through."
"But I should've been more certain that the Night King would get to the dragon."
"Even if you were, you had no idea where he would attack."
Getting under the covers to press my body against Jon's was a reward. It was also a promise fo the years ahead. There would be many days where we would be together like this. Politics would force us to live stressful lives but at night we would have our union. We would have our promise and gift.
It took little time for me to fall asleep when my love was beside me.
My dreams were full of conflict. I saw myself using my power against the Night King who just laughed. There was a deadly gleam in his eyes as he used his sword to kill me. Against all reason my body clung to life as the creature laughed.
"You really thought you could win?" He asked. "You really thought there was hope for you? You are a man that is stained. Accept defeat now and you can serve me."
Jon's corpse was behind the Night King and I couldn't return to Daenerys as a failure. There seemed to be no right choice. I woke up in a sweat.
No comments:
Post a Comment