Chapter 25: Going South

Chapter 25: Going South

Jon's Point of View (POV)

"Griff, you're being foolish. I'm the one with the true claim to the throne. She may be my aunt, and yes, she is the Queen of Meereen, but I'm the rightful heir to the throne, and she will see that." I declared, watching a silver-haired boy with soft violet eyes ride a black stallion. His arrogant smile made me nauseous. He appeared only a year older than me, and there was a striking resemblance between us, with our comely features.

However, unlike me, he possessed the unmistakable Targaryen features, with his silver hair and violet eyes. The man riding beside him on a white palfrey shook his head, wearing a sorrowful expression. The man, with fiery red hair streaked with gray, spoke calmly and evenly.

"Yes, you are the rightful heir, preceding your aunt. But while we've been concealing and preparing you for leadership, she has been leading. She liberated the Unsullied, who chose to serve her. She commands the Dothraki due to her strength, and she has dragons—something you lack. You may have the stronger claim, but she possesses everything else."

With an indifferent shrug of the boy's shoulder, he exchanged a casual smile with the man before turning to a large man in steel armor. Next to him was a thin, cunning-eyed man who wore a smug expression. Lastly, there was a woman dressed in a deep blue gown with a hood concealing her face.

"What does it matter? We'll be wed, and we are the last of our bloodline, the last two Targaryens. So, even if she fights for her claim, I will become king either way. We shall rule together, as her parents did before her."

His cavalier tone only deepened his counselor's sad shake of the head. I glanced at a large pyramid with a harpy on it, looming ahead. The desolate, barren wasteland seemed insignificant compared to the grandeur of the Harpy and the pyramid. Yet, the golden harpy appeared to be draped in a black banner adorned with a crimson three-headed dragon. Black smoke hung in the air, and the sounds of battle filled my ears. A war was raging, but they treated it as if it were inconsequential. As I attempted to delve further into the dream, I felt my mind slipping away.

The echoing sounds of hammers in the real world shook me from my unsettling dream. Today, I was departing for King's Landing, but that dream had unsettled me, filling me with worry. King's Landing awaited my arrival, but I had no idea what awaited me there. I couldn't delay any longer; I feared I might not make it in time.

Drawing in an unsteady breath, I gazed out the window at the bright blue sky dotted with three dragons, each flying at their own pace and grateful for the rest. The extensive flying between Valyria and the North had taken a toll on them, despite our numerous breaks and by allowing them to hunt while I remained hidden on islands, in forests, or among ruins.

Even now, I could see their exhaustion, and guilt gnawed at me. Soon, one of them would have to carry me to King's Landing and back. Despite their apparent joy and relief in their minds as I connected with them, the guilt of nearly overworking them weighed heavily on me.

Days passed rapidly as I returned home, taking the time to use dragon fire to seed the fields and plant crops. Bear Island continued to sing my praises for all who would listen. The snow-covered roads kept armies at bay, but not the hopeful northern masses, eager to catch a glimpse of a dragon soaring through the sky.

Word had spread quickly after the Battle of the Bastards, and my fears about the Vale's involvement had been justified. Though they all claimed no one had spoken, I wasn't so naïve. No doubt, this was Littlefinger's doing. However, my thoughts were interrupted by the weight of my responsibilities.

I was certain that Sam would arrive soon, and in his message, he had claimed to have found two significant deposits of dragonglass. He also offered some insight into why I could control the dragons. I wished he had included more details in the letter the raven had brought. Now, I had more questions than answers, and whenever I closed my eyes, I was plagued by dreams of a silver-haired boy.

Despite my concerns, I kept myself occupied. First, I transcribed that tablet for Gendry, giving him the only copy. He and the other smiths had been studying it ever since. I was sure that once Gendry figured out the perfect design for dragon armor, he would begin forging it. However, with the dragons growing larger, only one of them would fit in the courtyard at a time.

There was a good chance they would have to take turns so their flames could be used for forging their armor and weapons without them becoming too tired. Additionally, there was the challenge of taking their measurements, which would be no small feat.

Adding to the complexity of the situation was the uncertainty of when the White Walkers would arrive. With their ice weapons from Hardhome, they could shatter anything they touched, except for Valyrian steel. I needed my dragons to survive this ordeal, and if Valyrian steel was the only material that could withstand them, then I would provide them with Valyrian steel armor.

"Your grace," Davos' cool tone brought me back from my thoughts. I looked up to see him smiling gently at me, although his pale gray eyes betrayed some concern. Slowly, I threw back the warm sheets, allowing the frigid air to hit my bare chest. The sharpness of the cold helped clear my thoughts as I examined my healing wounds.

They were no longer puckered and red; now, they were a light pink and would eventually fade into a pale white. I didn't know how long it would be before they fully healed, if ever. Even without scars, I would always remember what had been done to me.

"Your grace, it's Lady Sansa. She has asked that you come to the great hall. Littlefinger has news regarding Lord Manderly's son, Lord Wyllis."

Could this be about the message? I turned over to look at Davos, his grey beard a bit wilder due to the winter cold.

"Of course, give me a moment to get dressed." With a sharp nod and a curt bow, Davos left the room, and for a moment, I couldn't help but smile.

I had never imagined that Davos, the man I had once clashed with over Stannis, wildlings, and dragons, would now be here, assisting me on my journey as king. I didn't want this responsibility any more than I had wanted to be Lord Commander, but I would never let my people down again. They would not suffer due to empty words; action was my commitment, and it began with the rescue of Lord Wyllis.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips as my heart raced. Despite the high stakes and the knowledge that this was a matter of life and death, not just for Lord Wyllis but for me and one of my dragons, I longed for another flight. My body craved the sensation of being weightless in the sky.

I moved through the room, slipping into a pair of black trousers and fur-lined boots, along with a black shirt and my Stark-embroidered cloak. Part of me wanted to don my boiled leather, but I needed to travel light. I made my way to the great hall, uncertain whether the news would be good or if Littlefinger's spy had been exposed.

I shook my head as the soft creaking of the old steps filled my ears. With each step, I drew closer to the great hall, and I could hear it come alive with laughter and jovial chatter. If they were laughing, I couldn't imagine the news was dire.

Still, I thought I might have stumbled into the wrong place, but as I passed through the grand doors, I saw Sansa seated up front on the dais, a cup of wine in her hand as she smiled sweetly at the man before her.

"To Lord Manderly, for the return of Lord Wyllis, and to King Jon, who is risking his life and one of his dragons to save him. May the gods protect them on their journey," she proposed, raising her cup.

A chorus of cheers erupted, but I remained skeptical. Even as I approached Sansa, I sensed a mixture of joy and relief in her expression. However, I suspected that her happiness stemmed not from my selfless act but from my impending absence.

I scanned the room and spotted Redwyne, wearing a kind smile as he nodded at me as if to say, "Thank you for not killing me." Although I had been tempted to feed him to my dragons upon first seeing him, such an act would have been unwise, making an enemy of the Reach.

Despite the warmth of the gathering, I couldn't forget the gravity of the situation. I noticed some Vale men raising their glasses to me. Even a few Northern lords appeared in good spirits for once. Lady Mormont maintained her stern countenance, her cold brown eyes warming slightly as she nodded in my direction.

I passed Lord Glover and Lord Manderly, both of whom were here to discuss castle defenses. They greeted me with hearty laughter and warm grins, their relief evident in Lord Manderly's eyes. The laughter and camaraderie of my bannermen reminded me of my father's days as Lord, making my heart ache for simpler times.

If I had known about the dragons in the Night's Watch, I might have found them on my first night and raised them to assist Robb. Perhaps with the looming threat of dragons, my father wouldn't have been killed. The thought weighed heavily on my heart, but I composed myself as I ascended the dais, maintaining a cool smile as Littlefinger approached the table.

His blue-grey eyes scrutinized me for a moment, and I could sense his cunning mind at work behind that sly smirk and feigned concern. "I received word just a few hours ago that my spy has made contact with Wylis. He claims that there will be a riot in the city as it starves. At that moment, he will meet you at the cliffs. Thanks to Cersei's folly in killing the Tyrells, the city is on the brink of collapse, and the people blame her."

His tone seemed almost pleased as if he took satisfaction in the Tyrells' demise. With their kin sitting here next to us, his callousness was evident.

I struggled to understand how any of this could be considered good news. I concealed my anger behind an impassive facade as he gracefully bowed and exchanged a knowing glance with Sansa, wearing a sly smile as he departed the great hall. Truly, I found him despicable.

I glared coldly at his retreating figure, then turned to Lord Manderly, who had risen from the table, his ample frame spilling out of his clothing as he raised his glass high in the air. "Truly, thank you, Your Grace. I know the crown must be furious, trying to figure out how to seize your dragons, and yet here you stand, ready to venture into the enemy's den for my son."

A warmth swelled in my chest, along with a sense of pride, as I looked at the gratitude and pride shining in his eyes. "All the men under my protection matter, and I will move heaven and earth to make it possible. I will enter hell itself if need be. I shall leave at once. Have you sent word to White Harbor that I will be stopping there for the night?"

Lord Manderly's joyous smile remained as he nodded. "I sent ravens a few days ago to expect you and a large dragon. If I may be so bold to ask, what is your flight plan?" A hush fell over the great hall as all ears strained to hear, including Sansa.

"I will fly to White Harbor first, then make my way to the Neck. If there is still daylight by the time I arrive, I will continue to Harrenhal and hide in the ruins. From there, I will follow the King's Road, concealed in the clouds, and make my way to the cliffs overlooking Blackwater Rush. If I'm fortunate, I might reach there ahead of schedule, though the trip is supposed to take five days. I don't want to push my dragon to the point where she can't make it swiftly."

The choice of dragon weighed on my mind. Tyraxes was the fastest but hard to conceal due to her red color. Meleys was bright blue and too gentle. That left Tessarion, who wasn't the fastest but stayed in the air the longest and had the keenest eyes. She was the right choice for this mission.

Taking a deep breath, I quickly finished my meal, sipping ale slowly. After exchanging farewells, I made my way through the courtyard. Tessarion was waiting for me, her back against the walls and her body facing the King's Road path that diverted from the main road.

To the left lay King's Landing, and to the right, the path further north, where the true enemy awaited. While Cersei played at being queen, I was determined to save the world from death and destruction. But she would scoff at me, deeming the threats mere children's tales.

The scent of winter pine and sawdust filled my nostrils as hot steam billowed from the forges. The sound of hammering grew louder, the smiths working tirelessly to craft armor and helmets. Tessarion let out soft screeches, her mercury-silver eyes studying me.

I met her gaze, running a tender hand along her neck. "Ready for a flight?" I turned to see Davos, who held my bag of provisions. He wore a gentle smile on his weathered face as he spoke with a hint of concern. I had been so consumed with worry that I had forgotten my rations.

"Just be careful, all it takes is one arrow or blade to touch your skin," he cautioned.

I nodded slowly, my tone guarded. "Ser Davos, it will be fine as long as I have Tessarion to watch my back."

Thank you, Ser Davos. I will return as quickly as possible. For now, please keep an eye on Sansa and Littlefinger; they are planning something," I said, gripping the provisions tightly to my back.

With a final nod and a response of "Yes, Your Grace," I began climbing onto Tessarion's back, using her neck and wing to steady myself. I gazed at my thick, calloused hands as I dropped onto her back, feeling the rough skin welcoming me. I smiled gently before gripping tightly to the two silver spikes—one between her shoulder blades and the other on the nape of her neck. "Sōvegon."

With that single word, Tessarion's wings extended, and her muscles tensed as she pushed off the ground. A few furious wing flaps sent us quickly ascending higher and higher into the sky until we broke through the clouds.

The bright blue sky and early morning sun greeted me, my hair billowing gently in the wind as a contented breath escaped my lips. My heart felt light, free from the worries that had plagued me. "Alright, girl, let's get going."

I held onto the spikes and waited as Tessarion's wings flapped, propelling us forward. The chilling wind whipped at my skin as we flew for what felt like minutes but must have been hours. Moisture from the clouds began to soak my cloak, and I looked down to see not land but a sea of white fluffy clouds beneath us, with the sun casting its warm glow from above.

After a few hours in the air, the sky transformed into a bright blood-orange hue as the sun descended, and the moon threatened to rise. I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind, feeling the connection with Tessarion grow taut. "What do you think, girl? Can you go a few more hours?"

When no response came, I decided that it would be safe to continue for a little longer. As the sun lowered, the sky turned black, adorned with twinkling stars and silver lights, signaling that it was time to land. "'Tegun," I spoke, and Tessarion, somewhat reluctantly, obeyed. I didn't want to push her to her limits; she could fly longer, but it was important to conserve her strength.

"A light, white coat of snow covered the ground as we passed fields of wheat, barley, corn, and more. White Harbor came into view, with its jagged black rocks and stony, cold shores gazing back at me. The sound of black waves lapping against the jetties filled my ears as I noticed the Wolf's Den below me.

It was the mighty walls of the New Castle, the seat of the Manderlys, that drew my eyes. I had always wanted to see the merman's court, but who knows if that will happen, perhaps once the war is over. I could see a large meadow just in front of the gates, with snow-covered roads leading toward it. Tessarion planned a graceful descent.

Without a screech, Tessarion lowered her body to the ground as the men on the wall stared at her with a mix of fear and amazement. A smile tugged at my lips as I noticed a few of them looking at me with the same sense of wonder.

With a soft purr, Tessarion moved her head to my hand, nuzzling me gently as her smooth skin felt warm between my fingers. Chuckling, I ran my fingers over her snout and neck until she finally allowed me to dismount.

Not a moment later, she took off into the open air to fly for a bit longer. As the gates began to open, many men bowed respectfully. I noticed a man in armor who had the look of a Manderly; he appeared to be in his mid-40s, with thick black hair and an amused smile, his deep gray eyes sparkling.

"Hello, Your Grace. When we received the letter that you were riding north on a dragon, we could hardly believe it." I gave him a polite yet tired smile, as exhaustion began to weigh me down, my body feeling heavier than steel. "It's very nice to meet you as well."

I struggled to stay awake as the world seemed to narrow through half-lidded eyes. I knew this exhaustion came from pulling tighter at my connection with Tessarion and from spending a whole day on top of a dragon. I resisted the urge to yawn as Ser Marlon, the castellan to Lord Manderly, spoke again, his tone more polite, "My name is Ser Marlon, castellan to Lord Manderly. It's a pleasure to meet you, Your Grace, and I'm sure you are tired. We have prepared the lord's quarters for you, along with supper by the fire, waiting for you."

After that, there wasn't much talking. We walked in silence until we reached a large, spacious bedchamber with a bed that could fit five. The soft, golden light from the fire was a welcome sight, and its warmth enveloped me as I walked over to it. The flames flickered as I approached. Collapsing heavily into a wooden chair facing the fire, I watched the flames as I mindlessly pulled a few pieces of cod and savored the buttery flesh.

After a few more morsels of food, I dropped onto my bed and quickly fell asleep. This time, my dream was different from the usual one with that silver-haired boy. I was flying on the back of a mighty black dragon, burning the ships of my enemies. I reveled in their screams of panic and pain as the scent of death filled the air. Two other dragons swirled around me, and one word spilled from my lips, booming with power and rage. The screams echoed as the ships burned, and the scent of burning tar filled my nose. A woman sat on my back, and I commanded, 'Dracarys.' I watched as three distinct dragon flames of black, gold, and jade burned the ships, while black smoke drifted into the air, along with the stench of death.

Four Days Later

The dark waters of Blackwater Rush lay below me, and the rugged black cliffs stood unwavering as the water slapped roughly against them, chipping away at the rocks. The stench of filth and death hung in the air as I spotted the looming Red Keep; it resembled a candle waiting to be ignited.

Tessarion descended through the clouds as the foul air grew even stronger. As I glanced over at the city, I could see people running in a sea of brown, rushing through the gates of the royal compound. Many of them were being cut down as though they were lambs to the slaughter, their cries echoing as crimson blood spattered into the air.

Disgust churned in my stomach. Did anyone in the South remember their vows? You protect the weak; you don't kill the starving. I took a steady breath in an attempt to quell the rage building within me, but it was futile. Instead, I gazed at the rocks and let the rhythmic lapping of the waves calm me.

As I looked up, I noticed a large, rotund man older than myself, sporting a thick, puffy beard much like his father's. His eyes widened with shock as he spotted Tessarion, and I don't think he even noticed me until we landed with a soft thud. "You're the King in the North?" His tone carried a heavy dose of skepticism as he scrutinized me. "Yes, come quickly before they realize you're gone."

Not a moment after I said that, panicked yells filled the air as men in gold and red leather rushed through the cliffs. Panic was etched on their faces as one of them raised his spear. Rage and fear surged within me, and my heart pounded. "Get down, Lord Wylis!" My voice rang out over the chaos as I watched the stout man drop to the ground. "Dracarys."

It was a single word, but it saved all of us. Streams of silver fire erupted, setting the world ablaze. Panic-filled screams filled the air as some men attempted to flee, while fear immobilized others. The scent of burning flesh and corpses hung heavy. "Quickly, get on. I can hear more coming."

With a sharp nod, Lord Wylis stumbled onto Tessarion's back as she screeched in my mind, pulling at the bond that was growing stronger. "He's too heavy," her raspy voice filled my thoughts along with her annoyance.

I turned back to the larger man, who looked at me with doubt and astonishment. "Hold onto the spikes on her back tightly and don't let go." I made sure my expression matched the gravity of my words.

If he fell off, this entire trip would be in vain. With a tired nod, I addressed Tessarion, speaking into her mind as her irritation continued to wash over me. "Fly us home to the North." I could hear the commotion of men and the clinking of swords as we soared through the sky. Amongst the clouds, I muttered a low growl as we hid from view.

Days passed in a blur, and before we knew it, we were back in the North. The lightly snow-covered ground welcomed us as men rushed to the gate, with Lord Manderly leading the charge. His men wore wide smiles as they followed him.

The people began to chant "The King in the North" as we gradually descended. I disembarked first and then helped Lord Wylis down. He stumbled but appeared relieved to be back on solid ground, and I knew that most of that relief came from Tessarion.

Happy to be free of the weight on her back, she went off to hunt and rest. I smiled at her retreating form, and that's when Littlefinger spoke in an amused tone. "Your Grace, there is a man here for you. He claims to be your brother from the Night's Watch, along with a portly man and a woman."

I turned around and stood to see Littlefinger speaking so calmly that for a moment, I thought I had misheard him. But as I hurried into the great hall, I saw Sam, Gilly, and little Sam. They were reading, but Sam appeared as though he might have a heart attack. His skin was clammy and pale. I smiled warmly at him, but all I received in return was a worried gulp. Sam never passed up a meal. "Sam, Gilly," I greeted them with ease as I walked over.

Gilly greeted me with a warm hug, but Sam gave me a grim smile and spoke in a worried, stuttering tone. "We must talk. Come." There was gravity and seriousness in his tone that sent shivers down my spine. I nodded firmly, and we began to make our way through the courtyard. The cool air kissed my skin gently as I followed, surprised to see Sam heading toward the crypts.

As I entered after him, I noticed a melancholic expression on Sam's face as he gazed at my aunt Lyanna's statue. Once again, the voices of the Kings of Winter whispered that I didn't belong here, their words lingering in my ears. I watched as the shadows danced, and then Lord Reed emerged, stepping into the light. Sam spoke with a cold tone, "I found out who your mother is."