The Conclusion of Madnes

Jon

Jon woke up with a gasp, startled by what he'd been dreaming of, or what most people would interpret as dreaming. Recent events would prove otherwise to Jon and he would be more inclined to believe he was warging. And not into some common wild animal no, into a dragon, into Kireina.

When he first experienced flight on the back of a dragon he believed that that was what gods must feel like. Then Kireina had gone one further and shown the sheer power she possessed by ending the existence of a few hundred people in a matter of seconds. Master M's lessons about survival and 'kill or be killed when it came to war' were the only things that were keeping him from feeling bad for those people. In a sense, using Kireina felt like cheating, the sheer destruction she caused was almost haunting. But at the end of the day, this was war and those few hundred people dying sent a message and saved a few thousand people's lives. 'We made the best of a shitty situation.' He thought to himself.

The true power wasn't on dragon back or witnessing total annihilation no, the true feeling of power was looking, feeling, being inside the body and mind of the dragon itself. That was the true power...and it was overwhelming as fuck.

He rubbed his eyes and bolted up out of bed before he got too comfortable. It wouldn't do well sleeping through a war. He'd gotten back home with Gerion and Master M with the full intention of planning out the war since they'd just received a massive advantage in the form of, as Gerion had put it, a great fuck off monster of a thing.

The first thing Jon had done when he entered the house was make himself a bath. The many layers that he'd been wearing for a month peeled off his body in almost one solid piece and the smell that was cocooned underneath was off putting to say the least. The warm bath accompanied by a bowl of Gerion's special noodles had sorted him out wonders and whilst sat at the table looking over maps and battle plans with Gerry and Master M, he'd completely dozed off only to find himself in his bed the very next morning.

'Aww, they must have carried my fat arse to bed. They are good to me.' He thought fondly.

He rinsed his face, put on some fresh clean clothes and wandered out of his room. He followed his nose to the kitchen where Gerion was cooking something that made his stomach grumble. His shuffling feet alerted Gerion of his presence and he received a beaming smile from the man, one he tried to return but he was just completely out of it this early in the morning.

"Good morning sleeping beauty, eggs are on the way." Gerion said as he turned from his cooking. "You feeling better now? You must have needed that sleep, you've been out for like 12 or 13 hours. Me and the old man had to carry your sorry ass to bed HA."

"Yeah, feel much better. Back to my grumpy old self on a morning so nothing to worry about." He said as they both sat at the table.

Gerion slid across a little small pot towards him "Have a go of that. That'll wake you up."

Inside was a clear liquid not too different from water "What is it?" He asked him as he looked at the drink with suspicion.

"Just try it. I promise you it will help. One of Master M's creations." Gerion said as he smirked

"I don't trust you. You've done something to this, I can tell." He replied.

"Just down it...or don't. I was trying to help you, it's not me who always feels like shit on a morning." Gerion replied as he went back to his eggs.

"No, you just look like it, and then for the rest of the day until you go to bed at night. The world is a cruel one Gerry, I'll give you that." He replied as he successfully dodged a bit of scrambled egg that was thrown at him.

"Cheeky shit. That's the gratitude I get for making you breakfast. Drink the drink and stop being a whiny bitch." Gerion replied, grinning as Jon eventually picked up the little pot and down the entire thing.

"URGHHH!" He started coughing to help relieve the intense burn in his throat "WHAT....WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?" He looked around the kitchen for anything to take the burn away whilst Gerion was laughing his ass off. "No seriously...my throat is on fire you dick."

Gerion handed him a mug "Drink that." He said as he was still chuckling at Jon's suffering.

He took the mug and looked in it "This better be water or I'm hurting you." He drank the, thankfully, cold water like a madman. It helped a bit but his throat still somewhat burned. "Seriously, you could strip paint with that. What the fuck is it?" He asked as he eventually collected himself. It was too early for this sort of shit.

"Like I said, one of Master M's concoctions. He calls it rice wine, I call it Fire water." Gerion replied as he placed a plate of eggs on each side of the table.

"I don't care what you call it, keep it away from me." He replied as he sat back down. "Why would you do that? Why do you hate me so?" He asked as he shovelled a fork full of eggs into his mouth.

"I told you it'd wake you up, that's why. You running around my kitchen like a stabbed rat was evidence of that." Gerion said with a chuckle.

"Dick." He replied with a mouthful of egg. The rest of the breakfast was spent talking about the actual war they were currently in the middle of. Gerion had told him that The Imperial Clan's naval fleet was spotted by a fishing boat that was being used for scouting and they guessed they were 2 or 3 days away from here...that was 2 days ago.

"That's when they'll attack again, when the navy is attacking from the sea. And since Kōchi doesn't really have a naval force, me and Kireina are gonna have to sort them out ourselves." Jon explained. Not only would it stop them from being attacked on two fronts but it would also prevent The Clan's fleet from skipping us and going straight for the furthest away island, Kyushu instead.

One of Gerion's eyebrows rose "Kireina? That the name of your new best friend?" He joked but Jon could see he was very interested in talking about the dragon, who wouldn't.

He nodded "Aye. When I found her, she told me she didn't have a name so she allowed me the honour of naming her. I think the name is fitting, don't you?"

Gerion's face morphed into a look of confusion "She told you? How? Does she talk like us?"

'Ah shit, let that one slip. How does he explain this to him without sounding mad?' He wondered.

He cleared his throat and sat up to explain "Have you ever heard of skinchangers?" He asked.

Gerion's eyes went wide "Like the wildlings?"

"Yeah, like the wildlings. Since I've got the blood of the first men running through me there was always a small chance I could become a warg. And since I've got Stark blood, the chances were multiplied." He finished. He looked at Gerion who shook his head in confusion "You know, with the whole Warg King story and House Stark taking his daughters as prizes. Our blood has plenty of that skinchanger magic." He explained further.

"Sooo, the magic in your blood allowed you to talk with this dragon, and she told you this?" Gerion asked.

"I asked her and she just said "Perhaps.". I can't think of anything else that it could be though. The fact that I actually dreamt of her for a straight month and then discovered on the way up there that I was actually in fact a warg brought me to that conclusion." He answered.

Gerion looked at him weird but accepted his response "So let's get back to the plan, you want to fly out to sea and fight all these ships on your own? Even with all the ballistae they have on deck, which for a fact I know they have from the scout reports we received."

Jon didn't know about the ballistae. But they didn't really have any other plans or options. Kireina's entrance into the war was a gamechanger, but they had to use her efficiently if they wanted to come out the other end alive. His plan was high risk high reward and it had his name written all over it.

"I wasn't aware of the ballistae but we should manage, I think, I hope." Gerion didn't look convinced "Listen, it's the best plan we've got, its one big thing less to worry about. The town recollects themselves and prepares for another siege against The Clan's ground forces. Yes, it'll be more than the ten thousand you had to defend against before but the fear of a dragon appearing will make them skittish and less confident. They'll be reluctant to over commit." He explained. "While this is happening, me and Kireina will be smashing their fleet and as soon as I've dealt with them, we'll fly back and incapacitate their ground troops. I would suggest seeking out this self-proclaimed Emperor but by the sounds of it he hasn't made an appearance at all."

Gerion shook his head "No, he hasn't. He's done a good job at protecting himself by staying elusive. He knows if he gets captured or killed then his little conquest of greed will have been for nothing." He sighed "I just wish we could have a talk with him to understand his motives, it can't all just be for greed."

"Well, if I manage to find him, he won't get the chance to explain himself. He doesn't deserve that luxury for what he's done and I'd rather just cut the cruel fuckers head off there and then." He answered with conviction. The fucker had to die, no two ways about it.

Gerion sighed as he looked at him "I've only just got you back and now you're leaving again." He said "I know I've said you're annoying quite a few times in the past but the place doesn't feel the same without you around." He finished. No smirk, no grin, just total sincerity.

Jon couldn't take the piss out of him with how sincere and hard that looked for him to say. Nobody in Winterfell had ever said anything like that to him, except maybe Arya. Still, he appreciated it all the same. "Cheers Gerry, you'd be surprised how much that means to me." He said as he stood up and cleared the plates to wash up.

Deciding that they needed to get a move on, him and Gerion left the house to go and meet up with Master M to tell him of their plan. On the way down to his hall, Jon side eyed Gerion and noticed the man deep in thought, brow furrowed and staring at the ground while they were walking. At one point they made eye contact, Gerion looked like he'd been caught red handed and promptly looked away.

"Spit it out." He told him as they sidestepped a cart being dragged up the road.

"Spit what out?" Gerion looked surprised but Jon wasn't buying it.

"Youve been quiet ever since we left the house. Along the way you've done nothing but brood whilst eyeing me up. If somethings the matter, I need to know about it before I leave." He explained.

Gerion sighed "It's nothing, just silly old me letting my thoughts run away from me that's all."

Jon gave him a look that said he wasn't convinced and just stared at him until he gave him an actual answer.

Gerion's shoulders seemed deflate as he finally crumbled under Jon's unblinking stare "Okay okay...god's I thought Tywin's scowl was intense." He said as he shook his head "You told me up at home that you had skinchanger magic from your Stark blood, correct?" He asked.

"Yeah. From the Warg King's daughters, what's your point?" He replied.

"So, your Stark blood is only one half of your heritage, from that you get the skinchanging and the brooding right. As you've said in the past, you are unaware of your mother's side of the family so...now hang on a minute." He said as he noticed that Jon was about to speak up. "Let me finish without ripping my head off, please?"

Jon reluctantly nodded, not caring very much about this topic of conversation.

"Okay, thank you. As I was saying, you aren't aware of your mother's side of the family so we don't know what kind of properties her blood has that she passed down to you." Gerion looked at him "Jon...you met a dragon and was riding it within an hour of meeting it. When you unmounted it, you walked up to its face and started stroking it like a cat...that's not normal." He strongly suggested.

Jon was getting tired of this and started to up his pace, trying to get to the Master's hall so that he'd shut up.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you. I don't know who she is, whether she's dead or alive or anything." He huffed "If you want to know more about her go and ask Lord Stark. He's the one who deemed me unworthy of knowing something so basic in a person's life, take it up with him." he finished.

Gerion grabbed hold of his shoulder to slow him down "I'm trying to help you, you clod. Answer this question for me, who was known for having a connection with dragons hmm?" He asked, one eyebrow raised.

Jon just looked at him funny "Targaryens." he scoffed "Don't stand there and suggest I've got Targaryen blood, I know Master M is going mad from old age but I thought you had a few years left at least." He smirked as he started to walk again but then turned around "As a matter of fact, she can't have been a Targaryen. There were only two females in the Targaryen line when I was born, one was already pregnant with Princess Daenerys and the other was Princess Rhaenys who was three years old. HA, logicked." He finished with a proud smirk.

Gerion just looked at him "And what type of blood do the Targaryen's have?" He didn't give Jon a chance to answer as her furthered his point "Valyrian. I suspect that there's a drop of Valyrian in your blood, not necessarily from House Targaryen." He said.

Jon went quiet as they carried on walking to their destination, head full of thoughts. Gerion had annoyed him with that conversation but he also did have a point, he had bonded quite quickly with Kireina. He just assumed it was the skinchanger magic that was in his blood but Kireina's vague reply as to how he'd bonded with her made him not so sure anymore. He would have to have a little chat with her later.

The pair of them made it to Master M's hall after that rather heavy conversation on the way down but were pushed out by the old man and his trusty stick before they even walked in "Ah ah, no. Both of you, follow me." Master M said to them and to Jon's surprise, in the common tongue as well.

He looked at Gerion who looked down and smirked "Master M?! You speak the common tongue now?" He asked as he tried to keep up with the old man who looked like a man on a mission.

He looked over his shoulder at him and grinned a toothy grin "Not only one who can learn new language, cunt." The old man replied to Jon's horror.

He looked at Gerion who was trying his absolute best not to burst out laughing "Why did you teach him that?!" Jon asked, absolutely horrified "You can't have him roaming around, effing and jeffing all up the place, its wrong." He finished.

Gerion shook his head "It's not swearing to him." Jon looked at him for clarification "I may or may not have told him the word for friend in our language is cunt." He said as he laughed "You don't want to know what I told him what the word for sword is."

Jon thought it was somewhat wrong to mislead someone like that but if he was being honest, it was kinda funny in a twisted way.

He kept pace behind Master M and noticed where they were heading to. His eyes went wide as he turned and grinned at Gerion "Taught him the word for sword, did ya?" He turned back and nodded towards the sign for the weaponsmith's shop as Gerion bit his bottom lip, realising where they were heading "Think I'm gonna find out that word, don't you? Gods help me." He finished as they entered the shop after Master M.

The old man was already conversing with the swordsmith when they entered, thankfully in their native tongue. He looked at Gerion who was doing a decent job at keeping a straight face but he could see the humour in his eyes. This was gonna be hard to get through without making a scene.

Master M turned around and spoke to him as the swordsmith went out back "My cunt, Gorō has gone out into back to bring gift from me to you." He said, still using the wrong word for 'friend'. Gerion coughed.

He was too busy holding in the laughter that it took him longer than normal to register the words "Gift? For me? What for?"

Gorō, the swordsmith returned with two Katanas, each sheathed in their own individual scabbard or Saya as they are more commonly known on these islands. Jon had been taught everything when it came to these native weapons and he'd absorbed all that knowledge like a sponge.

The sayas themselves were made from a lightweight wood native to the island, painted a pure black and coated with a lacquer to give it a glossed finish. Two black silk ribbons tied to them to finish the look.

The hilt or the Tsuka as they are known around here was finished with a black silk similar to the ones tied to the saya and the guard or Tsuba was square in shape and seemed to have a freshly crafted impression of a dragon on each of the two swords.

Master M picked up one of the blades and unsheathed it, the sound of it almost eerie. Jon noticed instantly the difference between the normal steel he'd been using and the sword that was in front of him right now. He'd seen a few of these around Gorō's shop but he never imagined he'd have his own. Jon looked in awe at the immaculate steel, a steel the shade of a midnight sky.

Dragonsteel.

Jon didn't know what to say as Master M handed him the hilt of the Katana. The balance, the weight, even the grip was perfect in his right hand. Looking up closely, he could see how truly brilliant the steel really was, freshly oiled and deathly sharp. He was so enraptured with the blade, that the sound of the other Katana being unsheathed was rather jarring to say the least.

Master M held it out for him to grab with his left hand and again, perfect weight, balance and grip. Freshly oiled just like its twin. He stood back as he gave them a test, a couple of spins and twirls, a flurry of slicing motions. They truly were magnificent, the lightweight steel allowing him to speed up his already rapid movements. Everyone had backed away as he lacerated the air around him, Gerion had his arms crossed and was looking at the floor with a grin, Master M had his chin high as he looked on with pride and Gorō was just open mouthed in awe.

"Alright alright show-off, sheath the blades and give the old man a hug." Gerion said as he walked back towards Jon.

He promptly stopped his fluid movements and sheathed the precious swords. Nobody had ever gifted him something so precious before so he wasn't sure how to react, so to hide the fact that he could feel the moisture building under his eyes he strode over to Master M and brought him into a crushing hug.

"Thank you...thank you so much. I don't know what I did to deserve this." Jon muttered into the old man's shoulder.

Master M placed his hands on Jon's shoulders and eased him back "You do deserve it. I believed in you. I believed you would save us all and you did. You have earnt the right to wield Dragonsteel Jon. You deserve it." The wise old man said determinedly.

Jon wiped the tears from his eyes as he grabbed the two swords and the black leather sword belt that held each Katana on each side of his hips. He thanked and bowed to Gorō for his incredible work and followed Gerion and Master M out of the shop.

He spoke up behind the pair "Thank you again Master M, truly."

"Again Jon, you are welcome. You truly have earned those flaps." Master M replied.

Out the corner of his eye he saw Gerion turn his back on them as his back subtly shook.

"Flaps?" He asked but he was pretty sure he knew what had happened here.

The old man pointed at the swords "Flaps. Katana's." He tried to explain.

He didn't want to ruin a nice moment with the man and decided to just play along. He'd be thumping Gerion the next chance he gets "Ahh, flaps. I see."

The nod and smile from the man was worth the play acting. Gerion was nowhere near them now but he could still see him trying not to burst out with laughter.

All of a sudden, he felt a tingling in the back of his mind, almost as if somebody had just opened a door and let themselves in. A presence, a strong one. Kireina.

'It's time.' Was all she said.

Screams and shouts could be heard further into town, near the docks, and the reason why was flying out from sea towards them. Specifically, towards him.

'Land in the town square Kireina. In the middle, I'll meet you there.' He communicated to her through their bond.

'Hurry up, we don't have long.' Was her curt reply.

He strapped his brand-new blades to his sword belt and tied it around his waist. He wasn't wearing any plate but he still had his black boiled leathers on so that would have to do. He doubted it would matter really since it'd be mostly Kireina doing all the work but you never know.

He turned to Gerion as he finished fastening his belt, all serious talk now "She's here Gerry. She's gonna land in the town square where there's room for her. You're gonna have to fill Master M in with the plan." He finished as he gave them both a quick hug and sprinted off into town.

He could see Kireina trying to land as soft as possible to not spook the locals and by the small crowd that had gathered on the outskirts of the square, she'd succeeded somewhat. A shame about the small fountain that was crushed underfoot as she landed though.

'Quick, get on. We need to leave now.' She said as he climbed up the flank of her lowered body, protruding crystals providing ample leverage. This would never get old.

He got himself seated and took a little peak at the small crowd, most of them looking at the pair of them like ethereal beings. Jon would like to think of himself as being a somewhat humble man but the attention felt nice. It was nice to feel wanted, to feel needed for a change.

Before he could dwell any deeper on his thoughts, Kireina was stretching her hind legs and back into the sky and scooping up masses of air into her wings, propelling them skyward and hopefully not to their watery graves.

Robb

His parents were acting odd.

His father was being rather quiet and his mother was...well, his mother looked and acted like she was on a mission, and he seemed to be involved in it. He'd not missed it when he saw his parents subtly following him and Rhaenys this morning and he'd definitely not missed seeing his mother peeking through the glass garden windows at him.

He also didn't miss the disturbing smile she wore as she edged away from the window. He'd never once thought he'd associate the words mother and disturbing in his life but for the first time, he'd managed it.

He wasn't naïve, she was obviously up to something. He wasn't sure if his father was in on it but he knew his mother was very much the spearhead of this game they were playing. He had his predictions on whatever it was they were up to, the main one being a betrothal to one of the Princesses.

It's not that they weren't nice, because they were. He'd not spoken much to Daenerys but the little he had, he'd seen a strong-minded woman, one who could take a joke and give one back if the situation with Theon was anything to go by.

He'd spent a little longer with Princess Rhaenys or Rhae as she prefers to be called. Again, she too was a strong-minded person but also incredibly friendly and very easy to talk to.

It was also hard to miss how beautiful the pair of them were. Bran had been smitten with Daenerys as soon as his dance with her had finished last night, he'd not shut up about her when they broke their fast this morning.

And Rhae, Rhae was a dornish beauty. Dark hair, olive skin were classic Martell features but the deep indigo eyes were what gave away her father's side of the family. 'They weren't the blue-grey eyes of his beloved though.' He mused. Princess Rhaenys was a beautiful woman, a woman of great pedigree, funny, charming, caring. But she wasn't his beloved, his heart was already claimed by another, his Alys.

They'd met three weeks ago when her father Lord Rickard Karstark had visited his father to discuss about matters of the North or something, he wasn't sure because he was not present in those meetings. As soon as his eyes had met hers in the courtyard it was over, a true northern beauty. One that he'd offered to keep company for the duration of Lord Karstark's visit. When he suggested this, his father was stone faced but he could see the humour in his eyes, Lord Karstark looked rather pleased with himself and Lady Alys smiled softly whilst looking at the ground.

The Karstarks were in Winterfell for nearly 2 weeks and in that time him and Alys had grown closer and closer. They spent most of the time almost exclusively together to Theon and Sansa's annoyance. Theon wanted his friend back and Sansa wanted another girl to chat with. Arya the little devil had done nothing but tease him and at numerous times had caused him to blush when describing the embarrassing yet true things she'd caught them doing.

He'd shown her around his home dozens of times, taken her into Wintertown and bought her a little trinket, a little silver wolf figure. She'd hugged him for that and he'd felt like the King of the world at that moment.

They'd spent time in the library and read a few books together, reading the same book and seeing who could finish the page first. She won most of the time but the smile and laugh it would invoke from her was worth it to Robb.

It had all come to a head the night before her departure, they'd sneaked out of the farewell feast and strolled hand in hand into the godswood. There they shared a kiss and a promise to stay in touch. They'd be sending correspondences to each other when she got home, he told her she'd have one waiting for her by the time she got back to Karhold. It was early days between them but the connection was there, and Robb was pretty confident he'd found the woman he would like to marry.

But it would seem his mother had other ideas. It was a shame for her that nobody was interested in her wishes. It may sound horrible to speak like that about his mother but he'd still not forgiven her for Jon's disappearance, even if it was over a year ago and he'd come to terms that he was gone.

To her, seeing her son arm in arm with an unwed princess must have been immensely satisfying, but what she didn't know was that him and Rhaenys had already talked about their own futures and what they hoped for it whilst walking around the godswood. He'd explained to her that he wanted to ask his father if he could ask for Lady Alys' hand in marriage and that the pair of them were very close. If Rhaenys' reaction was anything to go by she didn't look offended or jilted at all. In fact, she almost looked relieved when he told her. He didn't know whether to be offended or pleased with her reaction.

They'd strolled arm in arm into the glass gardens as her escort, Ser Jonothor guarded the entrance. He'd told her he was writing Alys a poem he wanted to send to her but was terrible at it. She suggested a few ideas here and there and he jotted them down to use for himself. Her suggestion of a few rose petals inside the poem was a good idea as well and was the whole reason for their journey to the glass gardens.

Right now, he was walking up to his father's solar to discuss the possibility of Lady Alys and him marrying. His father was one of the few people that knew about his and Alys' correspondences, Arya knew but only out of sheer willpower and determination to catch him in the act of writing said letters. She promised not to tell anyone but with the way his mother was acting it might have been best if she knew what he wanted.

Jory nodded at him as he knocked on the door to his father's solar "He's in there but he's been rather quiet my Lord." Jory warned.

"Thanks for the heads up." He said as he heard his father tell him to come in.

The Lord of Winterfell looked up from whatever it was he was reading and gave him, in all honesty, quite a pitiful smile. "Robb, what can I do for you? Arya hasn't been misbehaving has she? I know I told you to keep an eye on her whilst the Royal family was visiting." He said as he started folding the letter that he was reading. Robb spotted Jon's name at the bottom of the parchment and already deduced that he was reading his farewell letter.

'You're not the only one who misses him father.' He thought to himself.

He cleared his throat to avoid the nerves showing "I've come to talk to you about marriage, more specifically who I would like to marry." He said, he could feel his hands getting clammy. The possibility of his father rejecting his wishes in favour of a more lucrative betrothal in the back of his mind.

This seemed to catch his father by surprise. "Oh...okay. This wouldn't by any chance have anything to do with Princess Rhaenys?" His father asked.

"No, no it does not." He said as he steeled himself. "I would like the opportunity to ask Lord Karstark for his daughter's hand in marriage." He finished. Preparing for the worst.

His father sat there with a soft smile and nodded "Okay. I see you've thought this through. You can send a raven to Lord Karstark asking for his daughter's hand and I'll send one with it giving my blessing. Expect a reply quite quickly, he was rather keen on the pair of you marrying." He finished with a smile. He'd not seen a genuine smile from his father in months.

He couldn't believe it was that easy, he just hoped Alys would agree to the arrangement "Thank you father."

"No problem son. I just want to see you happy." He smiled. "However, you'll have to have a word with your mother. She's got the idea of you and Princess Rhaenys being wed and I don't think she'll take this news well coming from me."

He nodded, he knew he'd have to let his mother down gently.

"I'll see you later at dinner." He said as his father opened the top draw of his desk and placed his letter from Jon in it.

"Father?"

He looked up. "Yes Robb?"

"You're not the only one who misses him."

His father looked 10 years older when he replied "I know son, I know."

Jon

The sea breeze attacked his face and filled his senses. It would have been enjoyed somewhat more if they weren't hammering at an immense pace towards what could possibly be their demise. He was quietly confident they could pull this off, and by we he actually meant Kireina. The sheer amount of destruction she had caused against The Clan in such a short amount of time was terrifying, gloriously terrifying. His blood thrummed through his ears and the adrenaline coursed throughout his body when Kireina annihilated a portion of their army. He should have felt remorseful at the loss of life but to his horrifying surprise he felt nothing but fire and power. If he wasn't too careful, he could become a danger to himself and the people around him.

'I won't let that happen.' Kireina responded through their bond. He'd still not gotten used to the fact she could hear his thoughts.

'I do wonder, are you able to read the thoughts of anybody you want?' He asked.

'No, only the one I am bonded with. I can communicate with you through thought and hear your thoughts whenever you are close. But, if we are separated by a great distance, I can only communicate with you through your dreams.' She explained in that deep, thundering voice.

'That explains the dreams on the way up to find you.' He realised. Something didn't add up though.

'How could you communicate with me in my dreams before we had even bonded? I'd been having those dreams a month before I'd even met you?' He asked.

She went quiet.

Why had she gone quiet?

After a minute of nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through his ears she spoke up.

'What you ask pertains to something that I have sensed brings you great emotional distress. Are you sure you want to know?' She asked delicately, words chosen with care. She was pussyfooting with him and the entire concept of that just seemed bizarre.

He nodded, then realised she couldn't see him 'Yes you can tell me, I promise I won't cry.' He japed even with a sense of unease resting on him.

'Your blood resonates with me, not your first man blood, no...the other part of your blood's mixture.' She told him cryptically.

Jon wasn't fan of riddles.

He sighed and replied to her, although, he was quite sure where this was going 'And what is this "Other part" of my blood you speaking of?'

She rose above the clouds in hopes of seeing better as a thick fog had started to ease its way into their vision, she levelled off after their ascent and replied to him. A word he somewhat expected but still sent a lurch through his stomach...

'Valyrian.'

He took a nice deep breath of the cold sea air through his nose, he never thought he could describe air as delicious but that was the word that came to mind. Delicious, clean air running through his body, calming his senses and mind as he desperately tried to not make his annoyance rear its head. Unfortunately, wolf blood had no such problems with acting now and thinking later.

He almost snarled at the dragon as he replied...almost 'And how would you know that? Valyrian blood originates from the Valyrian Freehold, a once vast territory on the continent of Essos. A continent on the other side of the world from here. How could you possibly know about valyrian blood hmmm?'

He felt that. He felt that deep rooted sadness, a wish to forget but failure to. An immense pressure on her soul and subsequently his at the moment. He felt it, he felt his insides burn and his eyes start to boil, his brain feeling too big for his skull, wishing to escape from its confines of bone and tissue. And then, nothing. He felt nothing, normal again. Until another emotion collided with him with such force, he couldn't stop his breakfast from escaping his stomach or the tears from running down his face. An emotion that was more jarring than her sadness...guilt.

Guilty of what?

He recovered somewhat from his breakdown as they coasted through the air in silence, both needing respite from such an intense experience. Jon was sure he wasn't supposed to feel any of what he just had but like Kireina had pointed out, they were bonded. Her demons were his demons and his hers, and my god did she seem to have some horrible ones.

She broke the silence after a few minutes 'Can we not talk about how I know? Can you just take my word for it? I have no reason to lie to you.' She answered, almost pleaded. At that moment Jon felt awful for his targeted anger. He reluctantly accepted that yes, she had no reason to lie and that he could, quite possibly have some valyrian blood pumping through his veins.

That was hard to swallow.

He sighed 'Okay, so somehow you know I have valyrian blood and I'm inclined to believe you. That means that my....valyrian blood helped with the bonding?' He asked, still coming to grips with the reality that he in fact does have valyrian blood. The first thing he's ever found out about his mother. A small giddiness inside him at finding out something without his father's input on the mysterious woman.

He felt her powerful muscles move as she banked a little further out to sea in the hopes of catching a glimpse of this fleet, the fog slowly but surely becoming thicker and more than a hindrance towards their task. The conversation they were having had almost made him forget the reason they were out at sea in the first place.

She eventually answered as she levelled herself off, vision still impaired by the dense blanket of fog despite the repositioning 'Your blood didn't just help with the bonding, it's the sole reason we were able to bond in the first place. Your valyrian blood that flowed into the cavern lake was what woke me, your valyrian blood allowed me to communicate with you through your dragon dreams. The blood of the first men that flows through you is the reason why you dreamt of flying last night. But that wasn't a dragon dream, that was something else.' She explained.

'Warging.' He subconsciously thought. This was all getting too much for him right now. They had a task to go through with, the whole of Kōchi relying on them to pull this off. With failure resulting in the death of him, Gerion, Master M, the Kōchi people and even possibly Kireina herself. He had no time to be thinking about his blood, his mother, dragon dreams? and warging. They had a job to do, and with the surge of determination that ploughed through Kireina's and subsequently his mind, she agreed.

Kireina dipped lower towards the sea to get a better view, the fog had turned up at a truly awful time, visibility was nigh existent. Thankfully, if they couldn't see anything then neither could any of the boats they were searching for.

'Can you see anything? I might as well have my eyes closed, this is ridiculous.' He thought, a wall of grey facing him.

She was silent for a few seconds until she saw something 'There, I see shapes.' She bellowed out loudly through their connection.

Turns out dragons had better eyesight than people because it was nearly half a minute before he started to see dark silhouettes in the distance. He counted ten so far but who knew how many they had further back.

'Go higher and see if we can fly over them undetected. I want to see how many we're fighting here.' He uttered to Kireina. Even in his mind he was whispering. There was always something enjoyable about being sneaky to Jon, it almost filled him with a childish glee when they coasted over the numerous ships. They were that quiet they could even hear the dull voices of conversation.

Jon counted 28 or 29 ships after they'd made a couple of passes over. The ships were moving but not at the pace they clearly wanted, the fear of striking a random rock in the fog being understandable to Jon. He remembered his journey across the sea and couldn't blame their caution. At the pace they were going they'd probably reach Kōchi by nightfall.

Jon didn't want these people dead, he just wanted them to stop what they were doing. He wanted to end this with as little bloodshed as he could. He also didn't want to use Kireina like some weapon of mass destruction, the attack on The Imperial Clan yesterday was a few hundred men out of roughly 50 thousand. It was more of a statement than a massacre that Kōchi was under the protection of a real-life dragon and that if you wanted to attack you would just end up the same as the mounds of ash that were left.

He needed to make a statement here as well, a show of power, a display to the rest of the fleet. Master M had told him once that the human emotion of fear was powerful and if used properly, could become a useful tool, especially in war. Unfortunately, more people would die when he set this example but it was to stop the entirety of this fleet and the people on these ships from being annihilated by Kireina. It wasn't fair to make Kireina kill all those people either, he wouldn't make her a mass murderer.

Another bolt of guilt from Kireina hammered through his mind as he finished his thought process. She felt guilty of something but Jon wasn't sure of what she felt guilty about. He was getting distracted from the task in hand.

'That ship right there, the one furthest forward.' He sighed as he told her what to do next 'Hit it with all the fire you can...we need to make a statement.' He finished whilst he held on tight to one of the crystals on her back.

When she'd done this the first time he'd held on to a similar crystal on her back and that too grew warmer and emitted a soft glow just like this one. What he hadn't noticed was her actual dragon fire, he was too busy holding on for dear life as she nosedived towards the ground. By the time he'd collected himself she was already landing on the hill and screaming her head off at the fleeing army.

But today, today was hard to miss.

He felt the thrum of power coil underneath his legs, time feeling like it could almost stop as she unleashed a torrent of light into the unsuspecting ship. A bright light that lit up the surrounding area and caused him to squint his eyes at the intensity of it.

That wasn't fire. That was energy. That was power in its purest form. A power so absolute, it cut the ship clean in half and carried on as the beam of light broke the surface of the sea and lit up the water underneath, numerous sea life seen clear as day darting off to avoid their demise.

His inner thoughts broken by the high-pitched roar from Kireina that caused him to tense his muscles and grind his teeth until she finished. As soon as her roar of dominance was over, she beat her wings and dragged them up high into the sky.

'Do you trust me?' She asked him as she stopped working her wing muscles and made her body go limp.

'Yes.' Was his instant reply. The right answer his mind screamed as she tucked her wings into the side of her body and nosedived towards the remains of the destroyed ship.

The crystal on her back glowed up again as another stream of light blasted towards the remains of the ship, striking it from a vertical standpoint. The feeling of power surged through him as they nosedived closer and closer towards the bombarded corpse of The Clan's vessel. He took a quick peak in the direction of the rest of the fleet as he rushed towards the sea, men stood at the bow of each of the ships completely frozen in fear. Some chancing it and leaping into the sea in the hopes of being a smaller target.

He looked back forward as he saw how close they had gotten to the surface of the watery grave for some of these men. Muscle and scale bolted upwards as Kireina lifted up at the last second and closed her mouth to halt the flurry of energy she'd discharged at the remains of the ship. Nothing but a thin layer of ash and a few stray planks were left.

Kireina roared again and a good job too. He was pretty sure the sudden change in direction from Kireina had momentarily knocked him out and the sharp noise alerted him back to consciousness. Kireina flew slow circles around the fleet to see if any of them were feeling especially brave today, nothing but scared and resigned men looking back at them.

They'd done it, they'd managed shock them into resignation and fear, the absolute last thing an army needed. He looked back at the ash pile as they circled back around the front of the fleet, a fleet of ships that didn't have a single sail up now. He had a feeling that the ship they destroyed was carrying their Emperor, the spearhead of their fleet and the whole campaign in general.

'If we've just killed their leader by sheer luck then we might have just won this war.' He thought. Kireina agreed and hoped he was right.

Kireina flapped her wings and sent a few of the ships in front rocking, she moved as close as she possibly dared which allowed Jon to shout at the men stood at the front of the ship, majority of them looking up at Kireina's form and some waiting for him to open his mouth.

A man who seemed to be the captain of that particular ship untied his sword belt and dropped it to the floor, along with his katana as well. The rest of the men behind him followed suit.

'They're dropping arms, giving him ample time to actually talk to the enemy for once.' He thought to himself.

'Could be a trap. If they kill you, I'll make them wish they'd drowned after I'm done with them.' Kireina muttered in a concerned but angry manner in his mind. The protectiveness making him smile.

He cleared his throat as he shouted across to the captain, hopefully understand Jon's dodgy nihongo "Watashi o kizutsuke, daremoga shinu.(Hurt me and everyone dies.)"

The man looked at him, grim and resigned to the fact that their fight was done. It was up to the captain now whether or not his men carried on with this stupid battle or went home alive instead. Jon was feeling confident they would choose correctly.

The man nodded as he slowly looked up Kireina's flank and gulped.

Jon shouted across again to confirm something for him "Anata no ten'nō wa sono fune ni ita nodesu ka?(Was your Emperor on that ship?)" He asked as he pointed out towards the thinning pile of ash, slowly being claimed by the sea.

A look of anger rose on the man's face as he shook his head and spat on the deck of his ship "Īe, sono otoko wa nigemashita. Korera no shimajima o hisshi ni kōhai sa seyou to shite ita bōkun wa, watashitachi ni kare nashi de kurasu yō ni iimashita. Kare wa doragon o shitteita ni chigainai.(No, the man fled. The tyrant who desperately wanted to rule these islands told us to go on without him. He must have known of the dragon.)" He finished. To Jon it looked like the man really wanted to get that off his chest.

Jon shook his head, killing their leader would have been a major setback for the enemy. Hell, by the looks on some of the men's faces, they weren't the Emperor's biggest fans. No doubt angered and forced into their position to keep their families alive, families that were being held hostage by their own leader. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? A man fuelled by greed and wielding fear against his own men to ensure loyalty.

A mad man.

Jon was abruptly interrupted when the captain shouted across to him "Kare wa hontōni kieru mae ni, anata ga sugu ni kare o tsukamaeru koto ga dekirunaraba, kare wa watashitachi no ushiro ni sū-mairu shika inai hazudesu. (He should only be a few miles behind us, if you're quick you could catch him before he truly disappears.)"

Jon's funny feeling ended up being true. Fear was the only thing this man had to ensure loyalty, and they'd lost that fear of him when he ran away. He was still surprised with how quickly they were turning the man over, a look behind the captain at the men behind him was even more surprising. He could see the hope in their eyes as the captain explained how long ago the Emperor had decided to turn back, how he'd threatened to butcher women and children if the task wasn't completed even in his absence. He explained that the Emperor's ship was full of hostages, important political figures from each of the sacked towns. Used them as protection and threatened to kill these people one at a time if their respective communities rebelled. To Jon it sounded like this prick had his back against the wall.

The hope was there again in the men's faces when he told the captain that he had a choice, turn all these ships around and help him take down this tyrant or carry on fighting for a man who couldn't give a fuck whether or not you died. As he predicted, there was some resistance but fortunately for him they were outnumbered 10 to 1 by the rest of the men. The men who resisted the hardest were tied up and held inside the ships they were on to avoid any sabotage. Jon got a good look at a few of these men and they looked nothing like the natives of the four islands, something that was rather odd. Fortunately for them, he didn't have time to question them as the fleet started to very slowly change their course back the way they came.

He'd managed to do what he'd set out to do and that's stop the fleet from attacking Kōchi, and he'd managed that without too much bloodshed. But Jon was feeling greedy, he wanted this "Emperor" cunt. He thought he'd got him when the boat was turned to ash. He thought that in one fell swoop he'd essentially crippled their leadership and put them on the cusp of surrender and defeat. But he wasn't there. He'd wormed away like the cowardly maggot he was...and Jon wanted him.

Kireina was getting restless, he could feel her annoyance through their bond. They needed to move and move fast if they were to catch this cunt. The fog was still thick in the air so spotting the ship would be a lot harder but he trusted Kireina could see it before it was too late.

They circled the fleet a few times to make sure they were in fact turning around and this wasn't some elaborate ruse. Jon was in no mood for tricks and neither was Kireina, the whole fleet would be annihilated at the first show of deceit. He'd used democracy to win them over but force would be reluctantly used if he was betrayed.

As the ships slowly started their reverse journey back, Kireina let out one last mighty roar for good measure and ascended into the clouds in search of hopefully, the man that would end this war.

North was the only way they could go so that's the way they went. They didn't have much to go on other than how long ago the Emperor had ditched the rest of the fleet and that his boat looked nothing like the other ships. They were looking for a ship that couldn't be anything more than 10 miles away due to the fog and looked different to what they'd seen before, shouldn't be overly difficult he thought.

It wasn't long till Kireina was whispering in his mind 'There's a ship ahead but something doesn't feel right.' She muttered, a sense of unease encompassed the pair of them.

The fog hadn't let up at all, if anything, it'd gotten thicker. It was a few moments after Kireina spotted the ship that Jon did. The men were right, this ship looked nothing like their own. Where the fleets sails had emblems of, what he'd guessed The Imperial Clan's insignia, this one carried pitch-black sails with nothing on them at all. This one also had a vicious looking iron ram attached to the bow of the ship that looked like it could cut through any ship that decided to get in its way.

There was still a feeling of unease as they flew silently over the ship, a light rain deciding to appear. A look down towards the deck of the ship caused Jon to frown...there wasn't a soul on deck. The unease grew.

'I really don't like this Jon.' Kireina whispered through their bond as she circled around to get a good look of the ship. One more lap around it confirming his earlier observation, there was nobody on board.

'Me neither but we've come this far. I need to check to see if the prisoners are on board. Hell, this might not even be the right ship, it looks abandoned.' He replied.

'I still don't like it. There's something really odd in the air.' She answered, still worried.

'Are you the odd thing? It is kinda weird to see a dragon wouldn't you say?' He japed, a light rumble from her throat suggesting she didn't find it very funny.

'Okay okay, I'm sorry. I suppose it's not the best time to be joking.' He replied. 'I still need to go down there and check though.'

He could feel her trepidation about the whole thing 'Don't worry, I'll be as quick as I can. We can still hear each other through our bond so I can tell you if something is wrong. In the meantime, you can keep an eye out for any more ships just in case this isn't the one we're after.' He suggested, hoping to ease her.

It obviously worked somewhat as she slowly descended towards the side of the ship, low enough so he could take one last look at the deck to check for men before jumping and rolling onto the vessel.

'Good luck. And be careful.' She told him, almost like a mother hen. It brought a small smile to his face as he watched her coast back up into the thick fog, essentially leaving him alone on this ship.

This was dumb. Jon knew this was dumb, being alone in presumably enemy territory. Well, not completely alone. He did have his freshly forged dragonsteel katanas with him. He almost hoped there was trouble so that he had an excuse to use them.

Using the surefooted stealth skills that Master M had all but drilled in to his body and mind, he sneaked around the top deck looking for any sign of life. The rain was starting to get heavier as he made sure not to make a sound, two laps around the top deck was all that was needed to confirm that it was devoid of life. The sails were still up so the ship was still moving along through the fog, aimlessly traveling into the unknown and possibly death.

Using his barebone skills on sailing, he used the sails riggings to hopefully halt the ship and bring it to a somewhat standstill. With that done he made his way towards the captain's cabin to begin his search.

He entered the captain's quarters and noticed straight away the sheer lack of luxuries, something that was rather odd if this was indeed the Emperor's flagship. Dark, damp and dingy would be the words he described the room as he walked across towards the desk in the corner. The only light that was available was the natural type that was seeping in through the crummy windows.

Scrolls and maps littered the dark wooden desk. Maps of the surrounding isles, signed documents written in what looked oddly like valyrian and a few random notes made up the majority of the mess that was left. Random jars and bottles scattered across the little shelf on the wall above the desk. Goblets and glasses shoved to one side, none of them looked like they'd been cleaned in a very long time.

A small decanter was perched in front of a dusty glass jar. The decanter looked to contain a dark blue liquid of which half the contents had already been used. He picked it up, popped the cork and lifted it to his nose, the overwhelming smell making him reel and placing it back where it was. The large dusty jar caught his eye as he placed the decanter back, trying to rub the dust off the label deemed useless. Eyeing the room, he found a dirty rag flung across the back of a chair and used it to remove some of the muck on the jar, after rubbing it for a few seconds he had to place the jar on the table and hold himself together less he threw up.

Mixed in with what looked like brine and blood was a jar full of what looked like worms at first, but after a couple of seconds just looking at it, he realised it was a jar full of tongues, with a few eyeballs thrown in for added effect.

He looked away from the little desk of horrors and took a quick look around the cabin, confirming it to be empty. He unsheathed one of his katana after finishing his search and headed back outside to look for the door to the hold of the ship.

The door wasn't too difficult to find and he was soon inching his way slowly down the stairs to the hold, trying is hardest to not step on a creaky stair or plank of flooring. He doubted it would matter though, the wind had picked up outside and was currently whistling through the gaps of the ship, essentially cancelling out any slight noises he would make.

As he slowly opened the door at the bottom of the stairs the first thing that hit him was the horrendous smell. Shit, piss, blood, every bodily fluid mixed into one stench of death. The second thing he noticed was the sheer lack of light at his end of the hold, thankfully at the other end there seemed to be a soft glow of light behind a stack of crates about 7 feet off the floor, no doubt a single candle being the source. And Jon was guessing there was somebody behind those crates.

Using his hands to feel his way through he noticed a few metal bars, scratch that, a lot of metal bars, almost like jail cells. He stopped at one of these cells and crouched down to see if he could get a better look inside, what he saw made him sick to his stomach.

On the floor of this cell was the shadowed silhouette of small person and with a bit of squinting he realised it was a small girl. A girl who was curled up in a ball, covered in dirt, blood and what looked to be her own waste. Her ankles and neck were chained to the ground and the worst thing of all, she wasn't breathing. The little lass had died in this fucking cell, in a puddle of her own making.

Jon could feel his blood boiling, he wanted to hurt something.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply through his nose, calming him a little but not nearly enough to douse his anger. There were dozens of these cages, a few of the people in them were alive but barely breathing, most had died the same way as the little girl.

'What kind of fucking monster were they dealing with here?' He wondered as he slowly made his way to the far end of the hold, the far end where the only source of light was.

'And hopefully where this fucking shitbag was hiding.' He thought, a little surprised Kireina hadn't tried to school his temper through their bond.

'Kireina?' He whispered through his mind.

No reply.

He tried to communicate with her again but realised she couldn't hear him, and he couldn't hear her. He couldn't feel any connection with her at all, almost as if he was in a bubble and she was on the outside oblivious to him. That unease was back as he slowly made his way forward to the end of the hold, light footed and as quiet as a mouse. Kireina did say something didn't feel right and now he was feeling it too.

He pressed his back against the wall and lifted his blade so it stood vertically in front of him, if anybody was planning on grabbing him, they'd be losing a hand in the process. Light noises could be heard around the other side, it sounded like metal chains being scratched against the wooden floor beneath them. He risked it and took a peek to see what he was dealing with, his eye widened at what he saw.

Four people, three men and one woman were chained to a chair each and gagged with rope. One of the men was unconscious but could still be seen breathing, the rest were by the looks of it, desperately trying to keep their eyes open. Jon saw no threat here, these people were clearly prisoners and could possibly tell him what the fuck was happening on this ship or even better, who the fuck had done all of this.

He slowly crept around the boxes and revealed himself to them, sword raised just in case it was a trap. The woman spotted him first as her eyes went wide, the muffled noise that came from her alerting the other two of his presence, the fourth man was still out cold.

He put his finger to his lips and motioned them to be quiet, which they instantly did. Jon got a closer look at them as he approached the woman first. All four of them were dressed in some very expensive looking silks and robes, not at all like the rest of the prisoners he'd found in the cells. He tried to rack his brain and work out where he'd seen this type of clothing. As he slowly started untying the rope that was round the back of her head, he realised he'd seen this type of clothing in the town hall, where the Daimyo were situated.

These people are Daimyo. These were the important figures the captain from the fleet was talking about. If they were here as prisoners it meant that this WAS in fact the Emperor's ship. None of it made sense though.

'Where the fuck is the Emperor then?' He wondered as he finally loosened the knot and freed the rope from the woman's mouth.

"Daijōbudesuka? (Are you okay?)" He asked her as he started untying the rest of the ropes around each of the men.

"Watashi wa daijōbuda to omou, arigatō. (I think I'll be okay, thank you.)" She said as he finished untying the rest of the men.

"Dare ga anata ni kore o shita nodesu ka? (Who did this to you?)" He asked.

He got no reply.

He looked up from where he was trying to untie the rope from around her ankles and saw she was wide eyed and looking behind him.

"What..." He didn't get to finish what he was going to ask as he was jarringly interrupted by a grim voice behind him.

"WELL WELL, LOOK AT WHAT WE HAVE HERE! GOT OURSELVES A WANNABE HERO EY BOYS HAHA!" Came the loud shout from behind. The use of the common tongue startling him somewhat.

His head swung around to take a look at the man or in this case, men that had caught him red handed. There was five of them in total and they were about 10ft away from him. Four of them were pencil thin and dressed in dark black and indigo robes with withered faces and bald heads. The man stood behind these four creeps was a lot more built than the other men, a long dark grey coat covering up a steel breastplate and chain. He had dark brown scraggily hair that matched his beard, scars all over his face and a leather eye patch across his left eye. Slung across his shoulders was a 3ft long steel axe that he was holding with his right hand and hanging around his neck was a black leather strap with what looked like a steel horn strapped to it. Something he noticed they all had in common was an unusual blue hue to their lips.

"WHY DON'T YOU PAINT A PICTURE, IT'D LAST LONGER...A LOT LONGER THAN YOU'RE GONNA!" The man at the back bellowed out at him. One of the four creepy bold men started quietly chanting something as Jon stood up and readied his sword.

"Who are you? Where's the rest of your crew?" He said in a cold voice, thankful that it didn't waver.

The man at the back tilted his head towards Jon and grinned rather disturbingly. "Dead, gone, thrown overboard. I had no use for them anymore. As for who I am...I'm your god. Bow for your fucking god you worthless little cretin."

"The only gods I bow to are the old gods...so forgive me for not bowing to some ratty looking fuck and his little group of cunts." Jon boldly replied. The man looked unhinged and maybe winding him up would cause errors. Master M did always tell him that emotion doesn't belong in single combat.

His reply seemed to somewhat surprise the man as he paced left and right, not once taking his eyes off Jon. "The old gods? Those fucking tree's...They call them the old gods cos that's what they are...OLD! AND YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY...OUT WITH THE OLD IN WITH THE NEW!" The man shouted as he hacked up phlegm and spat on the ground "Even the drowned god will have to kneel when I'm done." He finished.

Jon using the man's mad outbursts to ever so slightly inch away from him so he had somewhat of a distance in preparation for what he assumed was a to come.

'Fucking drowned god? He can't be...' He thought as he realised what this meant.

He about snarled as he replied "You're fucking ironborn...that scummy little group of small-minded cunts. Bunch of thieves, rapists and murderers who don't even deserve the piss stained rocks they reside on." He shook his head as he realised something. "YOU'RE the Emperor, aren't you?" He let out a humourless chuckle "All makes fucking sense now. The greed and the hunger for power. The raping and killing of innocents. The thieving and the taking of prisoners. You couldn't garner the loyalty so you had to force it and take it...just like the ironborn have always done."

"Haha, see you've got a brain in that pretty little head of yours." The man paced from left to right still, he looked anxious to fight. "You're right, I am the Emperor, the Emperor of these four islands. The same islands that will become the start of my empire." He stopped pacing and squatted down, leaning against his axe he'd rammed headfirst into the wood beneath. Looking at Jon with intensity, an intensity he knew was laced with insanity. "I set out on a three step plan you know, a life mission if you will. A mission that would take me all over the world to finish."

He eyed Jon up and down "You're a northerner, aren't you? Ha, don't answer, I can tell by your adorable scowl." He shook his head "You were the first step in my plan you know, not you personally no, the North itself. You see, my brother wanted to be the King of the Iron Islands...but I wanted the rest of the kingdoms under my rule, something my brother was unaware of ha."

"Well, you know how the rebellion went so I won't waste time explaining that. Shortly after I was banished from the Iron Islands, some would say it was a punishment for raping my brother's wife but I saw it as an opportunity, an opportunity to begin my reign elsewhere."

"I travelled all around the known world, searching for a place to start. Whilst searching I brought a few...individuals into my circle." He said as he looked at the four other men. "They showed me what I wanted and what I needed to see. I needed to quietly bide my time and build up a force away from the eyes and ears of the little men of Westeros. Find a place to start my conquest to become more than a King, a ruler of the known world...an Emperor."

"My three-step plan was simple, become a King...become an Emperor, then...become a God." He waved his hand across the front of the four men with him "These men here have been helping me with the final step, a step I thought was decades away...until you showed up. More precisely, that beast of yours."

'No.'

"You see, these men right here have been keeping your dragon busy. Hammering it with visions so it can't even see straight, keeping it busy enough for me to prepare...prepare myself to blow this." He said as he grabbed hold of the steel horn that was tied around his neck.

'That's why I can't hear her, she's too busy fighting visions to even acknowledge me.' He realised. These men would be dying soon.

The man continued "This right here is a Dragonhorn. Said to grant the user control over dragons. I think you know where this is going." He finished with a creepy smile. A smile Jon couldn't wait to wipe off him.

Jon gave him a lazy grin "Up your arse I imagine. I'll probably need some help from one of your whores here but I bet we could get that whole thing in you with a wiggle." He said as the men around the room started to fan out and slowly surround him.

The ironborn slowly stood up with the creepy grin still plastered to his face "I see you're a funny man, a pretty one as well. Us ironborn take what we want, maybe I'll make you my whore. Maybe I'll fuck the fight right out of you...just like I did to that little bitch in the cage over there." He said as he pointed in the direction towards the young girl he'd found caged up.

His blood froze. The rage slowly but surely cracking and melting it away like a molten fire. A fire he could hear in his ears and feel in his chest. It needed to escape, find an outlet before it consumed him...but what if he wanted it to consume him? Consume him till the point of no return. They say fire is the great cleanser, what if he wanted it to cleanse him? Use him to cleanse others?

He got into a stance with his sword, he could feel the need, the want to punish and hurt and destroy these men. The man decided to carried on "Slip of a girl she was, could hold her in one hand just about. Better than using my own hand I suppose HAHA!"

That was the final crack that welcomed the fire.

With a spin, he swung his katana with such force behind him and cleaved the man who was still chanting from hip to hip, essentially cutting the man clean in half. He was still chanting as his legs collapsed underneath him and his body folded in on itself, a few seconds later he stopped with unblinking eyes as the trauma took hold and inevitably took his life.

'First ever man I have killed with my own hands. I should feel remorse and shame, not a sense of lacking and want.' He thought to himself.

He wanted more...and there were four other candidates.

The man to his right tried to blow something out his hand into his face but Jon turned his head to the left just in time, just in time to see a man to his left run at him with a dagger. Jon dropped to a knee and lifted his bloodstained blade above his head and pointed into the path of the man. He essentially skewed himself halfway down Jon's blade, right underneath his sternum. Jon stood back up, readjusted his hands on the hilt of his sword and ripped it upwards through the man's chest and out through the top of his head, leaving the man's torso looking like an opened jaw of flesh and organs.

'This steel is scary...and the perfect tool for what I want to do.' He thought to himself. The fire was talking now, and he allowed it to power him through his twisted form of justice. In the back of his mind he could hear a whisper but ignored it as the man to his right ran at him with a dagger of his own, unaware that Jon was about to end him.

He swung his leg low and swept the man's legs from underneath him, sending him flying on to his front. All the while another one of the ironborn's whores was approaching him with his dagger a lot more cautiously after seeing two of his friends mutilated on the floor. Jon didn't give the man chance to be cautious as he turned and manoeuvred his katana low, blade edge up and swiped upwards, slicing the man's dagger hand clean from is arm. He took the man's head off before he could even scream in pain, the one small act of mercy Jon was willing to give right now.

The man who'd been tripped was startled by the decapitated head landing in front of his face and tried to rear backwards, only to be met with a boot pressing his back into the ground and a blade being rammed through the back of his skull and out through his mouth.

All while this was happening, the ironborn had skirted around the room and eyed Jon with great interest. Jon had his eyes locked right on his figure as he removed his blade from the back of the man's skull he'd just ended. The wood beneath them both was almost sticky with the vast amount blood and viscera he had spilled.

The ironborn spoke up "Very impressive, I expected somet..." but Jon wasn't in the mood for talking with this cunt and swung his sword towards the man's head. The blade moved with such speed, the man only just backed away from taking the brunt of it to the side of his head. Instead, the end of Jon's blade had caught the man's face, specifically his forehead and left a deep cut across it, in the process cutting the tie of the man's eyepatch and revelling a black eyeball underneath.

The man touched his forehead and sucked in a breath through his teeth "...CUNT! You're gonna pay for that!" He growled at Jon.

"Not likely." He replied as he went for another slash at the man, one that was avoided this time.

The man bellowed out and rushed at him with his axe, moving a surprising pace. His axe came down as if to chop Jon clean in half but he missed as he moved to the left and leant back to avoid the following attack from taking his head.

Jon dipped and dodged the man's attacks, using the time to learn his moves and fighting habits, just like the ironborn had just been doing. He leant back to avoid another swing at his face but in the process lost his footing and slipped on the remnants of intestines on the floor, giving the ironborn chance to swing the knob of his axe's handle and catch Jon square in the face with it.

Dazed, Jon lifted his sword to block the following strike. With such force, the ironborn swung his axe down and met Jon's katana in the hope of cleaving the narrow blade in half but was majorly disappointed when the katana's steel held true and in turn, jammed itself halfway up the axe's head itself. Jon avoided a kick to his midsection as the ironborn tried to tear his axe free from his blade, the man wasn't aware he'd left himself horribly open for the taking.

The ironborn's face morphed into a look of surprise and horror as Jon took his right hand of the hilt of his sword and unsheathed his second blade from his belt. With as much force as he could he yelled out and swung his newly released blade into the side of the man and cleaved his leg, right above his knee clean off. The man released his axe and collapsed, screaming due to the jarring balance of having one's leg being taken off, screaming bloody murder as he held his newly acquired stump whilst rolling around in the remains of his men.

Jon leant over on his knees and caught his breath 'That was close.' He thought to himself. He looked across at the "Emperor", who was trying to so desperately crawl towards a dagger that was discarded by one of the other men earlier. Unfortunately for him though, Jon wasn't finished.

He wiped his blades clean on the robes of one of the corpses he'd created and sheathed them back onto his belt. He eyed the axe that the ironborn had used to try and kill him and picked it up. Out the corner of his eye he saw the dying man reach for the horn that was still tied to his neck, with his eyes widening, Jon rushed over, swung the axe down just below the knee of the man's remaining leg and chopped it clean off. The man screamed in pain and almost instantly forgot about the horn, the horn Jon ripped from the man's neck and threw behind him.

Jon looked back up from the mess he'd made to the man's legs and saw that he'd actually been successful in reaching the dagger. Before he could grab it though, Jon moved up and brought the axe down on his arm, cleaving it from his elbow down. He screamed and howled, but little bits of laughter were mixed in as he rolled around in, what looked to Jon, a state of euphoria.

'He's truly insane.' He thought. The fact that he was laughing and almost enjoying himself did not sit well with Jon. It angered him, this man needed to be punished not allowed to die in his deluded state of happiness.

With that thought and unadulterated anger flowing through him, Jon moved across and took the man's remaining limb off, leaving him with nothing but four stumps.

'Jon...' A whisper in his mind said. But Jon wasn't listening.

The man's eyes were glazed over as he stared at the ceiling but was still quietly laughing, almost as if this was all some joke. It kept the anger in him alive.

Jon grabbed the ironborns face and looked him square in the eyes. "You're going to die soon oh mighty Emperor. You won't be missed and you won't be remembered."

'Jon...' The voice again said to him. Jon blocked it out to finish what he started.

The man coughed up a mouthful of blood as he laughed, he attempted to spit it into Jon's face but his body clearly didn't have the energy and he ended up dribbling down his chin. "The great Euron Greyjoy will never be forgotten *cough* I'll be remembered as the most forward thinking ironborn of all ti *cough* time." The man, or Euron as Jon had only just learnt of his name, looked up at him and sneered. "I'll be remembered more than you will northerner. You clearly ran away from home, unlike you I left to become more...become a g....." He said but Jon had heard enough and proceeded to slam the end of axe's handle into the mouth of Euron. Smack after smack into the man's mouth, filling it with blood and teeth. Jon looked at Euron's face as the man finally stopped breathing but Jon wasn't finished, strike after strike breaking every tooth in the cunts mouth.

'JON!!' Kireina's voice bellowed out as he brought the axe down on Euron's neck and decapitated him. He closed his eyes to calm the monster that was causing chaos inside him.

In through your nose, out through your mouth was his inner mantra as he tried to calm his racing heart. One look around the room and at the man underneath him was when the reality hit him...he'd done this. He was the cause of this. It looked less like a fight and more like a massacre, all from his hands, hands that were stained red and thick with blood. He'd let his anger take control and this was the outcome. Master M had told him emotions don't belong in single combat, he'd have to agree. The evidence was laid around him.

'I'm okay Kireina, I'm okay.' He told her through their reconnected bond.

'You're not okay. We'll be talking about this soon. In the meantime, the fleet is right behind us and we need to get back to the mainland.' She replied in a determined tone, almost like a scolding parent.

'What about the prisoners?' He asked as he looked in their direction, thankful that they were behind crates and hadn't seen what he'd just done.

'Tell them help is on the way. You'll have to tell the captain to send some men onto the ship to release the prisoners and sail them back to land. But you have to hurry, while you were on the ship I checked to see where the clan's army on land were...they've nearly reached Kōchi' She urged through their bond.

"Shit...right." He said. He had to get his head back in the game. Looking around the room at the crates he saw a burlap sack flung across one of them. With the idea in his mind he grabbed the sack and put Euron's head inside, hoping and praying the sight of their "Emperor's" decapitated head was enough to end the fighting and ultimately, the war. He also picked up the so called "Dragonhorn" and tied it around his neck, he didn't want this getting into the wrong hands if it did in fact control dragons.

He walked over and told the four captured Daimyo that men were on the way to take care of them and the rest of the prisoners. With that being dealt with he headed up to the main deck and waited for the Kireina, who didn't take long to arrive and line up her body with precise beats of her wings, allowing him to climb up to her back and turn towards the oncoming fleet.

A quick word with captain, who looked at him with wide eyes since he hadn't had the chance to clean the thick layer of blood he was caked in, and they were on the way to commandeer the ship full of prisoners. Their reaction to him telling them that he'd killed their leader and proving it by showing them the head gave Jon hope that his plan would work on the rest of the army. To Jon, it was still crazy to see a group of people erupt with cheers when shown their leaders head, Euron really was a piece of shit, one nobody liked or would miss.

'Right, you ready?' He asked Kireina.

Jon didn't even get an answer as she shot up into the air and headed towards Kōchi, cheers from the men below getting quieter as they made their way to hopefully put an end to this farce of a war.

Gerion

The defences were up, preparations made and men prepared for this uphill battle. The scouts had spotted the Imperial Clan's main host, again summing up to roughly fifty thousand men, both on foot and mounted. They'd also brought along their siege weapons and if the scouts were to be believed, ballistae. No doubt the involvement of a dragon being the sole reason for their addition.

He was hoping and praying Jon and his dragon had been somewhat successful with their side of the plan, every second that passed since they'd left had been torture for him and not knowing whether or not they had the might of a dragon on their side anymore worried some of the men that were stood around him right now.

Jon was correct with one of his assumptions though, the knowledge of a dragon would slow the clan's march and reluctance would show in their ranks. According to the scouts, movement of their army was awfully laboured, almost as if they didn't want to fight. Gerion knew that with every passing moment without a glimpse of the dragon, the clan would grow bolder. And that worried him.

'What if we don't actually have a dragon to help us anymore? What if Jon failed and is now laying at the bottom of the ocean?' He thought, the last of which made his heart lurch.

He felt a hand on his shoulder as he was broken from his contemplation, turning to see who it was, he was greeted by Master M's old mug. To Gerion he looked overly calm about the whole situation and knew that it had something to do with the huge amount of faith he had in Jon.

"What you thinking about cunt?" Master M asked him.

'Knew this was gonna bite me in the arse at some point.' He thought. Teaching him swear words in place of the real words was a true passion of his but he'd not thought about how it could affect him.

He shook his head "Just wondering how Jon is getting on. This is all gonna come to a head soon and I'm hoping and praying we all come out the other side unscathed."

Master M squeezed his shoulder, a reassuring gesture Gerion believed "We'll be fine. The war will come to a close soon and I'm pretty sure we'll survive." The old man said, his sheer belief being half mad half inspiring.

"How can you be so sure? How are you this confident? I'm having a mini breakdown in my mind." He said.

Master M gave him one of those goofy smiles, a smile he'd seen before "Simple...we've got a Jon." He said with pride. Something Gerion had always felt when thinking of Jon.

'Stop it.' He thought to himself. Ideas running through his mind of Jon being more than just a friend to him. 'He doesn't see you like that.'

He rolled his eyes and gave the old man a lazy smile "You put too much faith in him I fear, I've always wondered why that was..." He prodded.

Master M looked over the horizon and was quiet for a time, he looked deep in thought. He broke the silence when he turned back to him "You've known me for a few years now, not once have you seen me with a wife or children. The sad reality is, I never saw myself as a parent at any stage of my life." He said. Gerion had never seen him this serious before. Master M continued "I've had an endless number of students in my halls, teaching them the ways of a warrior, a pure fighter. All of them for one reason and that reason being to create them into soldiers. All of them for the exact same reason...apart from one, Jon."

Gerion looked at him with understanding.

He continued "You see, Jon didn't want to learn to be a soldier or a guard, he wanted to learn about himself. Learn what he was capable of and learn how to better himself. He wanted, no, needed somebody to help him mould the new Jon, a more confident Jon, a smarter Jon, a better Jon." He looked Gerion right in the eyes "He gave me the privilege of that task, he gave us both that privilege. I've seen the way you two act with each other and I've seen that natural confidence of yours rub off on him."

"That confidence you gave him he used to push the boundaries of his learning, that self-belief that he can always be better at what he seeks out to achieve. Yes, he was cocky and guarded when he first arrived here but that was a defence mechanism against the prodding and poking he'd endured in his homeland. For him to show how bothered he was by some of the things people said about him would make him look even weaker than his society portrayed him as already."

"So you see, not only has he put his faith in me but he's also put his faith in you as well. A belief that the pair of us will nurture and better him, to make him feel wanted and needed for once in his life. And we did that, and so, because he's put so much faith in me, I give him that faith right back." Master M finished.

Gerion had never thought of it that way but couldn't find it in him to disagree with the old man. If anything, Master M was in the same boat as him "It's more than that though isn't it?" He said.

Master M looked down and smiled "It is. He feels like family Gerion, like that grandson I never had. Whenever he's around I'm more content." The old man eyed him "I'm not the only one who feels this way am I?"

Gerion gave him a sad smile "You have the right of it." He sighed "I have a daughter back in westeros, her names Joy and I abandoned her to go on some crazy adventure. She was 3 the last time I saw her, in the arms of her Aunt Genna as I promised to bring her back a present. I failed her. The moment I saw a boy appear from my country, alone in a foreign land, I knew I had to take him under my wing, to help with the guilt of abandoning one person. I couldn't abandon another." He chuckled a little "That annoying little shit has been the best thing to happen to me in years and can't see him as anything less than family." He finished, a soft grin forming.

He heard Master M laugh and he looked towards him. The old man nodded his head towards the horizon "I think somebody knew we were talking about him." He said in amusement.

He turned and looked to where Master M was looking, high in the sky out over the ocean he could see the small shape of a winged creature slowly but surely getting bigger and closer towards where they were. An image he would never be able to get over seeing until the day he dies. Hopefully they were returning with good news, Gerion really hoped.

Jon and his dragon, something fucking mad to even comprehend still, landed just outside the walls of the town with an almighty thud that shook the ground. People were already whispering and talking about their "saviour" as he headed up towards the gate and Gerion was inclined to believe some of them, Jon was making a habit of turning up just at the right time.

He motioned for the guards to open the gates for Jon to which they did. The first thing he noticed when Jon walked through the gates was how much blood he was caked in, the second was the burlap sack slung over his shoulder that was slowly dripping blood onto the ground.

'What the fuck has he done now?'

"And what in the world has happened to you?" He shouted as he approached Jon, hoping that none of the blood that was on him was his. "You've brought me a present as well, you shouldn't have Jon." He finished as he smirked at him.

Jon returned his smile as he swung the bag off his shoulder and placed his hand inside. There were a few gasps around him as he pulled out a decapitated head from the bag and turned its face towards Gerion.

"This right here Gerry, this is hopefully the end to this stupid fucking war." Jon said. Gerion cocked an eyebrow at him, not being sure what he was talking about. "This, this is the ever-elusive Emperor that caused all of this."

That widened his eyes as he looked at the head.

Jon continued "This cunt right here was the tyrant that started all of this. Notice that he's clearly not a native to these islands, that's because he's from our homeland, more specifically the Iron Islands." Jon smiled "Euron fucking Greyjoy he said his name was when the life was fading from him."

Now that was a surprise to him. He knew that Euron Greyjoy had all but disappeared after the Greyjoy rebellion but this was the last place he expected to see him. When he really thought about it though, it all made sense to him. The way the whole war was brought about and the way it had progressed screamed ironborn. Hopefully this was all gonna come to an end with the main culprit's head being paraded around like a trophy.

"Fucking Euron Greyjoy." Gerion spat at the ground to which Jon went and rubbed the face of the ironborn's head in. He smiled. "That cunt was the mastermind behind burning Lannisport, I'm glad he's dead. I hope you made him suffer."

An odd look came over Jon as he placed the head back in its blood soiled bag "I did." He coughed and combed his fingers through his hair "I plan on presenting this to the remnants of his army in the hopes they abandon this farcical war. If the way his navy reacted then I think we might be celebrating tonight."

He nodded. Before he could reply however, Jon was already walking back through the gates.

"JON WAIT!" He shouted. Jon turned around to him and in the background, he could see the dragon swing its head to look towards the pair of them.

"What?" Jon asked.

"You not going alone surely?" He replied

"I won't be long, trust me. If it doesn't go the way we want it to you'll know." Jon answered cryptically.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

Jon turned and looked at the dragon with a smile "You'll know." And with that he started jogging towards the dragon, mounting it and taking off towards the oncoming army.

'Please be careful. Please don't do anything stupid.'

Jon was making a habit of this, appearing and disappearing. Leaving him to wonder whether or not he's okay like a worrying parent. He sighed, all he could do right now was to sit and wait. Wait to see if the war was indeed coming to an end, wait to see if Jon returned okay.

He stood there for what seemed an age with Master M talking mindless chit chat, all to distract him from the fact that Jon and his dragon might not have been successful. Finally, after roughly an hour they got their answer.

Circling the town and descending from the sky like some great deity, Jon and his dragon made an entrance that Gerion would assume, would not be too different to the dragonlords of old. Just outside the walls of the town a group had amassed to watch the spectacle, Gerion and Master M were at the head of that group as they watched Jon dismount his great beast with surprising ease.

As Jon approached the group, Gerion could tell everyone around him were holding their breath, the suspense was killing them, him included. Jon to his credit seemed to keep a stone-cold look on his face as he approached them but as soon as he made eye contact with him, that shit eating grin started to form on his face.

They'd done it! They'd survived! Thank the fucking gods!

"Karera wa kōshin shite iru! Sensō wa owatta! (They're marching home! The war is over!)" Jon shouted. The group around him responded with glee, cheering and shouting, some even kneeling in front of Jon who quite quickly motioned them to get up, embarrassment written all over his face.

Gerion pulled Jon into a tight hug when he finally reached the group. He could hear the news spreading around the town, cheers and shouts bellowing out all around the streets, they'd be a party tonight.

"Well done lad, you should be proud of yourself. You've just saved thousands of lives in there, you're gonna be a very popular man tonight haha." Gerion said as he broke away from the hug. Jon smiled at him but it didn't look as enthusiastic as it should've been.

"What's the matter?" He asked him, unease taking hold.

Jon shook his head "It's nothing, don't worry about it. I just need a hot bath and my bed. I'm so fucking drained right now." He said. Gerion reluctantly accepted his answer even though he knew there was more to it.

The day turned into night and the whole town was out on the streets celebrating. Jon had explained to the Daimyo that as soon as he'd shown the head of the Emperor to the commanders of the now defunct Imperial Clan, the entire army seemed to sigh in relief. A few angry protesters, who Jon recognised as Ironborn, were dealt with accordingly. Though Jon never revealed what happened to them, Gerion had a few ideas.

And now the army had split off into separate groups and headed home to each of their respected islands. Peace at last.

The celebration seemed to go on throughout the whole night, playing music, singing, dancing. Everybody was getting well and truly merry, ale and wine being shared among everyone, Master M had also brought his new rice wine that he was so proud of. When offered some, Jon, in the politest way possible told him to 'shove it up his arse.' which got him and the old man laughing.

Jon the poor lad couldn't seem to get a moment to himself throughout the whole night. Whether it be men wanting to drink and chat with him, women and girls harmlessly flirting and mooning over him or children excitedly asking him about his dragon. Gerion noticed he was struggling to even keep his eyes open and gave the lad some mercy by escorting him away for a chat.

That chat never came though, Jon used the opportunity to head home, stating he was on the brink of passing out from the combination of drink and exhaustion. He knew there was more to it but left it for the night. He had all the time in the world with him now.

One month later...

As it turned out, Gerion didn't have all the time in the world with Jon.

A few days after the conclusion of the war, Jon dropped some big news on them...he needed to go home.

Him and Master M had argued with him, telling him his place was here, where he could settle down and start his new life. But Master M and eventually himself realised they wanted him to stay not for his sake but for their own selfish reasons. The main reason for wanting him to stay being that they would miss him.

Turns out the main reason for returning back to Westeros was to find out once and for all who his mother was. Yes, he wanted to see his family again, talking animatedly about his brothers and sisters but what was driving him was closure, the closure of finding out who his mother was and if she was still alive. Jon had told him that he had a point when he was talking about valyrian blood and that Kireina had only made him desperate to find out more.

That was a month ago, and now had come the day Gerion was dreading. The day his...friend would be leaving, who knew if he'd ever see him again.

Jon at the moment was talking to Master M, He'd noticed in the last couple of weeks that Jon had been training even harder than he normally did, trying to perfect what he'd learnt. It was also in these last few weeks that the unthinkable had happened...Jon had bested Master M in a spar. It was the talk of the town for a little while, it turned out the old man wasn't surprised at all in his defeat stating that ever since he'd returned from his suicide mission up a mountain, Jon had been a monster in their sparring sessions.

He was broken from his musings when he saw Jon hug the old man and move over to him.

Jon placed his two bags down on the floor in front of him and held out his hand for Gerion to shake. He swatted his hand out of the way and brought him in to a tight hug.

"You got everything?" He asked as he broke away from their embrace.

"I think so. My swords and clothes are in that bag." as he pointed to the long bag to his right. "And my rations and valuables are in that one." as he pointed to his other bag.

Gerion picked up the long box that was behind him "You think you've got space for two more things?" He asked as he lifted the lid to the box and took out the two sheathed valyrian swords, Blackfyre and Brightroar.

Jon's eyes went wide "I can't...I can't accept these Gerry. And besides, I've got my own set of blades now."

"Not to keep silly, I want you to take them home. To take them to their rightful families." He saw Jon's bewildered look and sighed "I left my home to search for this sword in the hopes of returning it to its rightful place, House Lannister." He said as he lifted up Brightroar.

"This sword..." He said whilst lifting up Blackfyre "was just a bonus of my travels and belongs to House Targaryen. Getting an audience with Tywin shouldn't be too difficult if you mention Brightroar, he's been after a valyrian sword in the family for decades. The Targaryens are a different story, not met one myself so I'm not sure how they'd receive you." He finished.

Jon smirked at him as he grabbed hold of the swords he was offered "Maybe I'll just keep them myself. Visit Lord Tywin and use Brightroar and a fork to eat my dinner in front of him. Is he an angry man Gerry?" He finished with a laugh.

"Gods, to be a fly on that wall." He said as Jon placed the two swords in his bag. He looked at Jon "Listen, I know the main reason you're going back there is to find some answers but if it wouldn't be too much, I'd like to ask you a favour."

"You've homed me for more than a year Gerion, you're practically family at this point. It would never be too much to ask." Jon said with sincerity.

"My daughter, her name is Joy Hill. She's baseborn like yourself and I suspect is treated the same way you were." He looked into the distance to avoid eye contact with Jon. "Tell her that I miss her and wished she could be here with me in this free land instead of that repressive land she is no doubt ridiculed in. Tell her I'm sorry that I failed her." He said as he looked down in shame.

Jon was quiet for a minute, Gerion had never told him that he had a daughter so he was probably processing. "Don't worry Gerry, I'll tell her. I'll tell her what a great man her father is. I'll tell her that she isn't forgotten and that she's still loved even from afar." He said.

He nodded and just about held in the tears "Thank you Jon."

Kireina roared in the background and paced left and right on the beach, a beach that had attracted a rather large crowd for Jon's send off.

Jon eyed her "I think she's getting impatient and wants to get going, gonna be a long journey."

"You gonna be okay flying that long? Didn't you say it took you half a year to sail here? You'll be on her back for weeks." He asked with concern.

Jon gave him smile "It'll be rough but she's assured me they'll make good time, might take less than a fortnight even." He then chuckled "She told me that if she gets tired of carrying my fat arse she'll land in the sea and spread her wings in the water to float, and that I can paddle us the rest of the way." He finished, rolling his eyes.

Gerion laughed but it wasn't very enthusiastic, Jon was leaving and the situation had now become more real.

Jon brought him in for one last hug "I'll miss you Gerry, you've done so much for me." He said whilst in the midst of their embrace. Gerion swallowed the lump in his throat and broke away before he well and truly broke down in Jon's arms.

"Go on." He said as he lightly shoved Jon in the direction of his beast "Get going before she takes off without you." He forced out.

Jon gave him a sad smile and clasped him on the shoulder one last time before picking his bags up and carrying them to his dragon.

With his bags securely strapped to one of the many spikes on the dragon's spine, Jon climbed up onto its back. He looked over his shoulder to Gerion and Master M before giving them a sad smile and one last wave before taking off into the air and flying out to sea.

Master M clasped him on the shoulder in understanding before walking up the path exiting the beach, leaving Gerion on his own looking on out to the horizon with his eyes firmly locked on the small figure in the sky.

'You coward, you couldn't say it could you?' His mind screamed at him. And his mind was right, he couldn't say it, only when the spot in the sky all but disappeared in the distance could he utter the words as he let the tears finally fall.

"Goodbye...son."

..