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My eyes did not open to the face or curves of Khaleesi. My body did not awaken to the afterlife where she had met me before. There was no calm in those around me which caused me to remember my own pain. To remember the one I loved dying in my arms. I opened my mouth but no sound came out. My flesh couldn't stand another broken cry from my mouth.
"Your Grace," One of the healers said as he tended to me. "You are safe."
He was trying to help, I knew that, but I glared at him. It wasn't me I was worried about. It was...I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. I focused on every inhale and exhale. Jon could no longer rule over Westeros which meant that burden was mine. No matter the pain tearing me apart I had to put on a show for my subjects. It was now up to me to rule even though my husband was the better man.
"You can see his body once you are better." Another healer said.
I turned my head to the opening of the tent to see Ghost walking in. His usual demeanor had been replaced by one of sadness. Unlike mine, his sorrow enveloped him completely. The pair had been connected in a way I would never be. It took courage to keep breathing after losing his human.
The direwolf would've walked right next to me if the healers weren't there. All of them had grown nervous with his presence and that wasn't surprising. Ghost was fully grown and was the height of a horse. He would make a good mount if he allowed me on him. To ride something that had been affected so greatly by Jon would be divine. A tear went down my cheek as I looked at the creature.
A healer gave me water and within an hour they were gone. There was not much else they could do for me as the greatest wounds were ones I had to mend on my own. The memories would cause me pain for some time but I could overcome them. I would overcome them.
Ghost lay down next to me and put his head on my chest. I felt like I had when touching Drogon for the first time. It was an achievement to have the trust of such a creature. Direwolves were the symbol of House Stark and for a good reason. There was no person alive who could not look at one without a sense of wonder overtaking them. They may well as be gods in their own rights. Instead of the deities that took delight in killing, they took delight in taking care of their friends. Their pack.
I reached a hand out and started to scratch behind his ear. Ghost let out a low growl of contentment. It was my job to guard him and his job to guard me. We would do so out of our love of Jon. Should I consider this a sign of my forgiveness? Could I die knowing I had served my penance? Did it matter anymore?
"Someone wishes to see you, Your Grace." A young man said.
Cuts and bruises littered his body. He had fought during the final battle of the war and paid a minor price. His features were still good enough to get a maiden and he could fight in future wars. If there were wars in his lifetime.
"Wh-" I began to ask and the Wildling pushed passed the young man.
Tormund was still injured but he was no longer broken like before. If you looked long enough you could see the haunted look in his eyes. But his past didn't seem able to hold him back for long. He had lived beyond the Wall for the majority of his life and that upbringing brought out the strength of people. If I weren't so exhausted I would've reprimanded the Wildling for his breach of manners.
"How did he die?" Tormund asked and Ghost let out a whine.
"I had battled the Night King and fought as well as I could." I replied and looked beyond the man to the past. "But in the end I couldn't win. Jon came and I put all the power I had into him. He was covered in fire as he battled the one true enemy."
"You burned him alive?"
"That isn't what killed him. It was all the wounds he acquired while fighting the Night King."
Tormund's expression went from angry to sad. I looked at him and could see the tears forming in eyes. Yet both of us was too proud and wouldn't dare cry. At least that is what I thought but something must have changed. With tears going down his cheeks I decided to let out my own tears.
"He wouldn't want to be brought back to life again." Tormund said, breaking the silence.
"And Melisandre is not here to do the deed." I replied. "Not that he would like that woman near him. She burned a child alive and committed more crimes beside that."
"And it might not be Jon that came back. Not really."
Each time a person was brought back to life a different part of them faded into nothing. Man was meant to live one life and no more. We were meant to live and die. The gods had taken mercy on Jon so that the Night King would be defeated. I was allowed to live because I had helped my love kill the great evil. Or maybe that decision to have me live was out of the hands of the gods.
"We will never see his likes again." I told Tormund. "He united Wildlings with the rest of Westeros. He retook Winterfell. He killed the Night King. And through all of it he was the most honorable person in Westeros. He didn't allow his past, present, or future to turn himself into something else."
"He grew on me." Tormund agreed with a nod. "In the end he proved one of the best friends a man can have."
Jon had grown to admire the Wildlings. He had disregarded the hatred the majority of Westeros had for them. He had ended up paying for his viewpoint with his life. If not for Melisandre he would've stayed dead. Though it hurt me to think it, better he had died fighting the Night King than be murdered by his men. He deserved a noble death as had Daenerys. The gods must have honored him more than the woman I loved.
"He did good for your people, Tormund." I replied.
"That he did." Tormund said. "I wonder if you will honor my people as he did."
At my core I felt insulted. Of course I would do my best to enact laws that Jon would've made. Those he had allied himself with in life would become my allies. Besides the Stark's wishes, I would follow those of Daenerys. Hers were less defined and yet I would make the world in her image too.
"Of course," I said. "You helped retake Winterfell and defended the Seven Kingdoms against the dead. It would be dishonorable to treat you as second class. As long as there is air in my lungs to breathe, I will make sure Wildlings always have a place in Westeros."
"On behalf of my people, I thank you." Tormund said.
It wasn't long until he left my tent and I was free to explore my own thoughts. Unlike before I could look at them for longer periods of time as no one would attack us now. And if someone did, they would be much too exhausted to put up a good fight. The towns we passed on our way to the Twins were full of people exhausted without an ounce of fight left in them. All of them bowed to me calling me either 'Your Grace' or 'Azor Ahai'.
We could've raced to the Twins and seen if Sansa had made it there. I could've flown ahead on Drogon and been there ahead of my men. However, we had all become exhausted fighting the War of the Dawn. We had stretched ourselves beyond our limits so those we loved would be safe. So that the Night King would not win.
While I could ride Ghost, the healers didn't leave me alone from sunset to sunrise. Only when we were a day away did they stop looking after me. And when I was alone I felt the absence of Jon even more. The direwolf was there as I cried myself to sleep and prayed for death. Prayed that when I died that both Daenerys and Jon would be there waiting for me. I tried to look for any sign that he still interacted in this world. But no signs appeared.
For the final day I rode Drogon. He was more than happy that his rider had joined him again. We practiced maneuvers as my men slowly made their way to the Twins. The scenery below us was beautiful and I couldn't wait for spring to come. For flowers to bloom and prove to me that the threat was truly gone.
I circled around the castle until people took notice of me. Drogon landed between two lines of fighters. Both lines had men standing as straight as possible. A thin wave of snow blew across most of the men but none of us cared. I was going to see Sansa and they were meeting Azor Ahai, King of the Seven Kingdoms.
My feet took me quickly to the entrance where Edmure Tully met me. He walked me inside while the other men waited for the others. Drogon roared once and then took to the skies. I turned to look at him and, not for the first time, I was amazed he was real. I was amazed I was his rider.
"We are more than grateful that you fulfilled the prophecy, Your Grace." Edmure said. "There was a hoard of the dead about to attack when they just died. If not for your actions, I would've died."
"I did fight the Night King, but King Jon Stark killed him." I explained. "I was unable to move and Jon came to my aid. I gave him my power and he killed the abomination. Where is Lady Sansa Stark? I assumed she would have greeted me unless she was unwell."
"She never arrived. Should I sen-"
"No, she was either going to be here or the Eyrie. I need to rest and then I'll get there on Drogon's back."
It took three hours for me to be in a room alone. Edmure had shown me around while updating me on the Twins' status. This would be useful in the months to come when it would be my duty to help rebuild Westeros. I took the quill from the ink and wrote a letter.
Lady Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island,
The Night King has been defeated. I was unable to kill the abomination on my own and it took the aid of King Jon Stark to kill him. Unfortunately my husband was killed in the fight. I dearly hope you have survived the Winter better than me.
I have been worried for some time as I heard you hadn't communicated with Winterfell. Please reply at your earliest convenience so my mind can be calmed. I have dishonored my father and have earned the respect I never deserved. If you have died then my title of King means nothing.
King Jorah Mormont
I looked at the letter and then had a servant send it to Bear Island.
* * *
It had been two weeks since I had arrived at the Twins. I had wanted to fly to the Eyrie but other concerns had taken up my time. There was time for people to inquire about my plans for the future as well as for the more ambitious to try and get into my Small Council. It took up too much energy to remain calm and to make sure they had no other motives.
"Your Grace," A man said after I opened my room's door. "A letter from Bear Island."
I took the letter and shut the door. Would this talk about another loss? The only thing that kept me calm was that a letter wouldn't have arrived if Lyanna were dead. It could be that she was greatly injured but at least air still went to her lungs.
King Jorah Mormont,
I am devastated to hear about the death of King Jon Stark. He was a good man and I shall never regret aiding him during the Battle of the Bastards. He was worthy to become both King of the North and King of the Iron Thrones.
The Night King attacked Bear Island during the War for the Dawn. He used his dragon to cause devastation and then left. There wasn't a raven to use until yours came here. I request you come home as I don't have much time.
If you can ride a dragon and one has survived, travel that way or else we won't see each other again until death has claimed us both.
Lady Lyanna Mormont
I put a hand over my mouth to stifle my cries. She had paid a great price and now no one was left to rule Bear Island until I had children. The memory of my first wife and our dead children made me doubt my ability to produce offspring. Even in my darkest moments I felt Lyanna would do her duty and grace our House with children. But now I didn't have her to lean on.
I got dressed in my armor as my current attire wasn't proper to meet Edmure in. After that I prepared to write a letter and my mind took awhile to calm down enough.
Lady Sansa Stark,
I am alive and yet that means little to me. Your cousin, Jon Stark, died fighting the Night King. If not for his heroic actions, the dead would have won the war.
Lyanna Mormont is on the brink of death and I will take Drogon to visit her. If you are alive, please send your reply to Bear Island.
King Jorah Mormont
I shakily put my quill away and then waited for the ink to dry. Once my body was still again and the ink was dry, I rolled up the letter and prepared it to be carried by a raven. It was my raven that had allowed my cousin to get a single message out. Though I wanted to believe it was written by her hands, I knew that couldn't be the case. Not unless she was stronger than any Mormont before her.
Edmure looked up as I interrupted the small dinner. There had been a joyful look in everyone's eyes until I had arrived. While I didn't smile much, they must have seen the pain etched deep into my face.
"My cousin, Lady Lyanna Mormont is on her death bed." I began. "I go now to be by her side."
"I am sorry about your loss, Your Grace." Edmure replied. "I assume you'll want some of your men to meet you there."
"There will be enough people on Bear Island to look after me. It has been a long war and rebuilding will only be harder. My men will stay here until I send for them."
A loud cheer echoed throughout the hall. There were cries of 'Your Grace' and 'Long Live the King'. Even though I had suffered great loss, it warmed my heart to see this happiness. If Jon and Daenerys were still alive, they would be happy. As they weren't here to experience this joy, I would do so for them.
"Send this message to the Eyrie." I said and handed the letter to Lord Tully. "It's for Lady Sansa Stark. There are instructions in the letter for her to send a reply to Bear Island."
I then made my way out of the hall to where Drogon was. On my way Arya Stark joined me. There had been no word from Sansa which pained the young Stark more than it did me. Though both of us had talked into the early hours of the morning about the woman.
"Can't you stop by the Eyrie on your way to Bear Island?" Arya asked as Drogon landed by us. "With how fast dragons can travel, it won't be too far out of the way."
"But if I went there, people would take up my time." I replied sadly. "It would be rude to deny them their festivities."
"And avoiding them altogether isn't rude?"
"It is a middle ground."
Arya let out a small chuckle at that and a small smile went across my lips. It wouldn't do for her to be all alone in this world with no family to run to. I had been distant with my family for so long that it was as if I never had one to begin with. Lyanna's death hurt me, but at least I knew there was a place for me.
"Sansa is alive." I reassured Arya and looked at Ghost who was standing back a ways, a concerned look in his eyes. "If she isn't, I'll send a raven as quickly as I can."
"You don't have to treat me as a child." The Stark reprimanded me.
"Who says you are the one I'm reassuring?"
I put a hand on Drogon and gave one final glance at Arya before mounting him. It was still somewhat hard to do so as my injuries hadn't healed. Yet his body now had a familiarity to it. I understood where to put my hands and feet. I knew which parts of him he would loathe being touched. I was aware of the pressure I could exert.
Once I was safely on his back, we took off. The Twins which had seemed majestic before, now became two pieces of rock reaching up to the sky. Drogon circled around the castle a few times and I wondered about landing. Maybe Lyanna's letter had been some terrible dream and I had woken up believing it.
I resisted my cowardice and flew Drogon to my home.
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