Loop 3
“I will kill them I will kill them all” Ramsey Snow swore as he ran with the two arrows in him and what felt like a broken ankle “I will kill those fucking traitors very, very slowly, flaying them alive with the smallest possible knife”
He wiped the blood out of his eyes and then frantically crawled through the undergrowth, trying to ignore the agony from his ankle. Thorns scored his hands and burrs filled his hair. There seemed to be blood everywhere, in his eyes, in his mouth and in his boots
It was a nice day he had been about to corner his prey, who had led him a very pretty chase, the little slut. He loved the hunts
Then all his men his horse and even those fucking hounds went mad and started attacking him!
“Gukkk” Ramsey crashed on the ground as something heavy tackled him
His hunting hound pinning him down and growling at his face
A loud scream echoed through the forest before dying out
---------------------———————————-----------------------———————————--
“How long ?” Bran asked his head feeling like water from having spent too much time in the wierwood trees scattered across the North
“A week now” Jon answered him
“The King had the Queen imprisoned and Jamie stripped of his position as the Kingsguard” Jon told Barn behind him the fire in the hearth crackled filling the room with warmth
“I am surprised he didn’t kill them immediately “
“Father managed to send a raven a week before to Tywin Lannister he did not wish for another war”
“A good thing we cannot afford any war with what is coming” Barn sighed
“Aye that is true” Jon agreed
“Ramsy Snow, old Walder Frey, Lame Lothar , Walder Rivers, Ryman Frey and also a fourth of all knights involved in the Red wedding are dead“
“You killed them” Jon asked plainly not even bothering to ask how Bran even managed to do that while in coma
“Better than them killing us” Bran did not deny it “I only killed those who deserved it, I left the Karstark alone”
“What now “ Jon sighed
“We prepare for the long night”
“Petyr Baelish” Bran sighed
“the master of coin ?” Job blinked “why would he want you dead ?”
“To create a rift between the Lannister and us...no need to worry about him I made him cut his own throat “
“Sometimes you really scare me Bran”
“I understand your fear. But this power is also a gift. It gives me the ability to see the past, present, and future. It allows me to guide people down the right path and prevent the mistakes of the past from repeating themselves and if I am able to use my power to make a difference, then I will do so, no matter the cost.”
---------------------———————————-----------------------———————————----------------------
There were times when Jon was seriously questioning himself
He sailed across the narrow sea fought a warlord, had a run-on with a bunch of Qartheen warlocks had a rather unpleasant meeting or reunion with Melisandre of Asshai and now he stood facing a death
Jon paced the confines of his cell frustrated
“Could have been worse,” Tyrion told him, through the bars on their respective iron doors. “We’re still alive.”
“We’re going to be killed.” Jon reminded him
“Could be worse” Tyrion replied “Torture is a hell of a punishment.”
Jon continued to pace anyway. He had been certain the Queen would visit him during the day but when sunset neared he feared the worst, and thus began his frantic inspection of the cell. He ran his hands over every crevasse and all four corners, every ridge he could press and pull. The bars and walls were immovable. The floor made of smooth stone solid and strong
Right now the pair’s only hope was Bran who had somehow kidnapped the Queen’s three dragons
Jon’s despairing pacing was interrupted by the sound of rusted hinges swinging open. Jon glanced worriedly out the bars of his door. Long shadows cast across the hallway leading to his cell. Seconds later, Jon heard footsteps and the creak of leather. Several figures approached.
The door slammed open. The Queen and three of her eunuch guards stormed into the small dungeon, along with the tall figure of Ser Barristan Selmy. The spear points of two Unsullied drove him backwards to make room for the royal lady.
An Unsullied kicked him behind the legs and Jon came crashing to his knees. A hand encircled the nape of his neck and forced his gaze downwards. Jon’s eyes fell to the hard stone floor.
“I should kill you,” Daenerys said quietly.
Jon did not reply. He did not think it wise.
“Suppose you are telling the truth,” the Queen said with an indifferent tone, as if speaking of the weather or another trivial topic undeserving of her time. “Which I doubt you are. A son born of Rhaegar would have a stronger claim to the Iron Throne than myself, a sister, and a woman. Why should I recognize that man’s birth?”
“There will be no Iron Throne. No lands for the living. No sun, nor dragons, nor castles if the Others cross the Wall,” Jon replied, his mouth dry and his voice raw. “I care nothing for your throne. Keep it. Burn it. Do what you will. ...the long night is coming Fire is their only weakness, fire and dragonglass—”
“Enough about the Others—” the Queen interjected with a wave of her hand.
“No!” Jon erupted and stood. Ser Barristan drew his sword and settled the point at Jon’s neck, but he persisted, leaning into the iron. A blade has been held to this neck before, and I survived. The Queen’s icy mask faltered as surprise graced her features and fear flickered in her eyes.
“Don’t you understand? This isn’t a trick. This isn’t a game,” Jon pleaded passionately, the skin on his neck stung bitterly. “Your people will die. We are all going to die.”
The Queen closed her eyes. For a moment, Jon thought he might have swayed her resolve.
“No,” the Queen pursed her lips and opened her eyes. Violet orbs clashed with silver steel. “You are going to die.”
Jon’s heart sank into his stomach. A cold terror gripped his insides. Suddenly, the Unsullied took his arms forcibly and he was marched out of the cell. Jon stumbled over nothing as his feet disconnected, refusing to cooperate with his buzzing brain. His heart lodged in his throat and he could not protest. Daenerys followed with her Queensguard closely.
The Unsullied lifted him up by the armpits and set his on his numb feet.
The Queen, her knight, Jon, and the men dragging him journeyed deeper and deeper into the darkness of Meereen’s great pyramid. The Queen took the lead, holding a single torch ahead of the column to light the way. Daenerys offered no explanation as to their destination and Jon raked his mind for a solution. Escape would be impossible. Chances were slim when he was surrounded by the enemy. For truly, we are enemies now.
The Mad King’s daughter, Jon thought derisively. I should have known. One of the last of her kin, and she would have him slaughtered. For her birthright. For the Iron Throne.
Jon had the strongest urge to laugh, but he supposed that would impress upon the Queen that he had lost his mind. I might die in Essos. Would he be given a third chance to right the world? A fourth? Was he in hell? Or was this life his final life?
‘No, you are definitely not going to die’
‘Bran’
‘Yes don’t worry I have a plan ‘
‘...I always worry when you say that ‘
The group paused at the top of a long and narrow stairway leading into shadow. A black abyss. Jon was prodded by the butt of a spear and so took the first step forward. Down into the depths of the pyramid.
The stairs stretched onward. The torch behind his back illuminated only a step or two ahead, so Jon trod carefully until one of the Unsullied pressed on his back, urging him to move faster. After a hundred steps, the stone turned rough and uneven. The descent continued until the party emerged into the moonlight and stopped in front of a large stone circle.
Jon held his breath as a large bronze lock was turned. It took three men to move the massive barrier. A wave of hot, rancid air rushed out and Jon gagged. The stone door finally shifted way and Jon could see another dreaded set of stairs leading downward. A spear pressed against his back and Jon was once again forced to be the first. The Unsullied followed. Daenerys trailed after and Ser Barristan held the rear.
Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, the torches were doused. Jon blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dark. Light streamed from the open stone door, casting tall shadows into the void.
Jon turned to look at the Queen, whose eyes were focused on the darkness.
“Go on/Go on ” the queen and Barn spoke in his ears and head respectively
Jon followed the direction of her gaze, but saw nothing. Nothing but black, Jon squinted. The Queen’s words echoed in his mind. If he was going to die, why bring him here?
Jon did not understand, until he heard the rustling of chains in the darkness.
Clink. Clink. Then silence.
Turning, his eyes swept over the inky blackness. Something is here. Someone.
Then a huge blast of fire hit him
---------------------———————————-----------------------———————————--
“You are angry at me” Bran asked Jon plainly
“I got burnt alive” Jon replied
“Normally you get burnt to death but I just realised you Targaryens give a whole new meaning to ‘burnt alive’” Tyrion quipped
“In your first life you were not born a dragon in this one you were lucky enough to be born one and you will remain so for the rest of your lives “ Bran answered Jon’s unspoken question
“So now what ?”
“Now we meet your Aunt”