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Chapter Text

Loras and Jon flew towards the tower of Orthanc with all due haste though it seems the counsel of Glorfindel was trustworthy upon the death of the Black Easterling, his kindred fled the field.

"Did you capture the siege engines?" Jon asked weakly.

"Shhh ... Save your strength, we harried them at the mouth of the valley and drove back the cavalry before setting the siegecraft ablaze," Loras said, concerned.

"Good ..." Jon said though his voice was far weaker, which filled Loras's heart with dread.

"By Erú, I already lost my dear Renly to the foul sorceries of that red whore ... I don't want to lose my brother too ... Loras thought, horrified at the prospect.

As if reading their thoughts, the Gryphon flew with all due haste, and soon they were at the base of the tower upon entering; Loras was greeted with the sight of a half dozen healers as well as Ashara and Shiera and Írimë who were tended the wounded and boiling herbs.

"HELP!" Loras shouted; Shiera and Ashara saw Jon, and terror filled their hearts when they saw the battered body of their beloved pierced by many black-feathered arrows.

"JON!" The three maidens shouted in horror, rushing to help their beloved.

"What happened?" Ashara yelled, leading them to a stretcher.

"Jon duelled the leader of this host ... One of the nine Nazgûl," Loras said grimly as the eyes of the three Ladies widened in surprise and horror.

"How?" A horrified Shiera asked as she ground Athelas in boiling water, hoping to tend Jon's wounds.

"I don't know how Jon came to fight against that abomination, I led the vanguard outside the valley to shatter their siege engines, when the Easterlings fled, I hurried to Jon's side in time to witness the demise of the Nazgûl it seemed his thralldom to Sauron was broken and he was reduced to ash. It seems the magic of Ringil was fare greater than the ring of the Easterling, alas Jon was wounded, and his Gryphon brought us here, "Loras said, speaking frantically as Jon's lovers fought to save him.

They were surprised by the Knight of the Flowers tale, though they gave it little thought as they used all manner of poultices and herbs hoping to save their beloved alas; it was no use he was pierced with many black-feathered arrows;.

"Alas, this I bring more grim tidings," Loras said with a saddened face as he avoided their tearful gaze.

"What happened?" Irimë asked with worry before plucking another arrow from Jon's side.

Loras didn't respond immediately but instead clenched his fists and steeled himself.

"Loras?" Írimë asked, her heart filled with woe.

"Lord Celeborn is dead ..." Said the youngest son of House Tyrell, and Lady Írimë wept bitter tears.

"How is it possible?" Ashara asked with sadness.

"It must be some foul sorcery... He was cleaved almost in two, and his skin took on a sickly hue, and his blood turned black ... I recognized him only by the Livery of Edhellond, "Loras said with horror and sadness, remembering the horrid appearance of the noble elf.

"The spear ..." Jon said, regaining some strength startling everyone.

"Jon?" Asked a happy Shiera.

"It was the spear... the spear of Khamûl ... You must destroy ... The spear ..." Jon said though his voice was hoarse and weak.

"Don't move Nin Mel ... You're gravely wounded", Írimë said, hoping to calm her dear dragon.

"Tell everyone ... to be wary, the danger ... It's the spear engraved... with the Black Speech... Of... Mordor," Jon said, his many wounds weeping blood, "Causing his lovers misery.

"Please, Jon ... you must rest," Shiera said tearfully.

At that moment, Jon's strength faltered, and he lost consciousness to everyone's horror.

Loras closed his eyes and sighed after a moment.

"I must return to the battle; Robar and the others must know what happened and hopefully claim this terrible weapon," Loras said before departing the tower.

"Be well son of roses," Írimë said without losing sight of Jon.

Loras did not answer and nodded, leaving the three maidens to care for their beloved Jon.

With a flick of his sword, Robar cleaved the head off another Easterling. Princesses Arianne and Rhaenys stood by his side, spattered in blood and mud.

They had slain many Easterlings that day though the rain had turned the fair valley into a morass of corpses and mud.

Earlier, they had heard a scream that rang with the cold fury of death though none among them could guess its owner.

The Knight of Vale and the Westerosi Princesses had never heard anything so inhuman and sinister as those screams, just remembering it made their blood run cold.

"What were those screams!?" Rhaenys asked as she weathered the clumsy strikes of another Easterling.

"They were akin to some savage beast, though we have little time to ponder!" Arianne growled as she skewered a golden clad captain.

"I have a queer feeling ..." Robar said, and then he saw a great troll-man thundering towards them; his march was stopped as a silver fletched arrow pierced his eye. Still, he staggered forwards, and Rhaenys hewed his head in one stroke of her axe.

As they looked towards where that arrow was loosened, they knew that Daenerys had slain the foul half troll; the Targaryen Princess was, much like them, battered and bloody her once glittered armour smeared with mud and gore.

"Thank you, dear aunt", Rhaenys said.

"You're welcome, niece… Where is Jon?" Daenerys asked, her voice laced with worry.

"His Gryphon was flying towards Orthanc with all due haste... Do you think Jon is well?" Arianne asked, concerned.

"I hope so ... We have won this day ... it seems the captain of this dread host was slain as the Easterlings have quit the field," said Robar.

"Do you suppose Jon won the day?" Rhaenys asked.

"It's possible, Princess ... I propose that we go back to the tower to take counsel on our next actions," said Robar.

"That won't be necessary, my brother .. "

Everyone turned to see Loras with his sword in hand and his expression one of utter dread.

"Loras… where is Jon?" Ask Robar but Loras just lowered her head, filling everyone with great anguish.

"Ser Loras, what happened to my brother? " Rhaenys demanded, scared.

"He was wounded after he slew the captain of the Easterlings."

Loras' words filled Robar and the three Princesses with horror, even though they were happy to learn of Jon's triumph over that servant of evil.

"WHAT!?" The three Princesses asked at the same time, horrified by the idea of losing Jon.

"HOW DID THIS HAPPEN, LORAS?" Robar roared, clenching his sword in anger.

"The one who led that army was one of the Nazgûl ... Khamûl "the Black Easterling".. Jon slew him and Ringil's magic broke the thralldom of the one ... his soul passed from this world... it was truly wondrous to see, "Loras said.

"Loras ... I care not for the redemption of some Eastern savage, tell us of Jon," Rhaenys said, a sentiment shared by Arianne and Daenerys.

That comment irritated Loras, but he knew their hearts were wracked with grief at the thought of their beloved wolf being wounded.

"Go to the tower, Princesses. I know you yearn to see Jon ... Robar, and I shall search for the weapon of the Black Easterling ... A spear," Loras said.

"A spear?" Asked the Lord of Runes, confused.

"A cursed weapon of terrible power... Khamûl slew Lord Celeborn with it," Loras said, his voice filled with melancholy.

"Lord Celeborn… was he truly slain?" Daenerys asked, putting a hand to her mouth in horror.

"Yes ... with foul spells very old and full of hate... His corpse was desecrated in such a way that only by his armour and livery did I know him," Loras said, shedding a tear of sorrow for the brother of Thingol.

Hearing that, everyone was furious at the horrible insult suffered by so noble an Elven Lord.

"Has Lady Galadriel been informed of his passing?" Arianne asked sadly.

"Perhaps though I cannot say for certain, I lost sight of her when I left the valley; we shall join you as soon as we have claimed the spear," Loras said.

"What worth does this fucking bauble have!? My brother needs us," Rhaenys yelled, desperate to be by Jon's side, but Loras silenced her.

"Jon was fearful of that spear; we must prevent it from falling into the hands of the Easterlings," Loras said, hoping to calm the fiery princess.

"I'm of a mind with Loras ... Jon's foresight is mighty indeed, and in time he may rival the lord of Valinor in wisdom and countenance", said Robar.

Arianne sighed before placing a comforting hand on Rhaenys shoulder.

"Come on, cousin, let's go with our love ... Do what you must, Sirs," Said Arianne before she joined Daenerys and Rhaenys, the three of them heading towards Orthanc with great haste.

"This will be a long night ..." said Robar worried about Jon.

"Aye, my brother, it will…." Loras seconded, still distraught.

The battle finally ended with the triumph of Westernesse, and while the Easterlings fought with fury and hatred, their courage faltered when Khamûl was slain, and many more were slain when the Mûmakil rampaged throughout the valley.

Although there was no victory feast or songs, their dead were beyond the count of grief. Barely half of their number could still stand or had hope of healing., So it was that after the battle, they stripped all their dead so that scavengers should not come and win there a store of weapons and mail. It is said that every man of Westernesse that went from that battlefield was bowed under a heavy burden. Then they built many pyres and burned all the bodies of their kin.

However, the most grieved was Galadriel herself when she gazed upon her husband's corpse; If it weren't for his silvered mail and tunic, she would never have believed it was Celeborn.

His skin was waxy and pale, losing all its colour and his silver hair seemed to fade in lustre; the wound wept blackened blood that burned red hot, and his veins were a sickly red snaking along his body like tongues of fire.

In all the Ages that she had walked, Arda Galadriel had never gazed upon something so horrid nor evil... What kind of vile sorceries did the Lord of Mordor cast upon her husband?

Despite her bearing, the daughter of Finarfin wept bitter tears for her beloved husband; it was a bitter poison to swallow for the Elves of Edhellond as they bore witness to the grief of their queen and the death of their proud Lord, whom was well-loved by all under his rule.

Though she was grieving, a festering poison had gripped her battered heart fueling her passion and anger.

Guilt consumned Galadriel's heart as if it wished to tear it to pieces.

She had known Celeborn for many an age they had met in their youth when she and Finrod came to Doriath as guests of Thingol. Celeborn was brother to the king and though rather headstrong, never sought his own glory, only the glory of his kingdom; Celeborn had been a great master of lore with a love of knowledge that far surpassed her own.

After a few meetings in Menegroth's library, Celeborn mustered the courage to court her, and their romance began under the Mallorn trees by the light of the full moon; he had stolen a kiss from her that day, and though she acted indignant, he had captured her heart for no elf in Valinor dared to court her for she was far mightier than her kindred save Fëanor, her uncle.

Galadriel knew that Celeborn was all she desired in a husband, and soon they were wed though dark days lay ahead as the wars of wrath raged around them, and many of their kindred were slain alas Galadriel was forced to march alongside her brothers for a time and won great renown as a general though this bloodshed brought her little satisfaction and so Galadriel threw down her spear and was content to stay by Celeborn's side.

Galadriel was of a mind with her husband when he counselled they cross the blue mountains and settle far from the conflicts of the Noldor she knew that their struggle against the Great Enemy was for nought if the Valar remained idle and so they departed for Lindon where Celeborn would come to rule the fief of Harlindon.

A few years after Morgoth's defeat, their beloved daughter Celebrian was born, and Galadriel was filled with joy far greater than any she had ever felt.

And then Celebrian married Elrond, son of Eärendil; those were blissful days far from the horror and conflicts of the First Age; her beloved daughter had found happiness just as she had found hers.

Alas, the fire of their youth were extinguished as was common among the Noldor of such prodigious age, and they were content to study lore and learn the customs of the free peoples a marriage of trust rather than love.

And yet fate seemed rather cruel when Jon snow set foot on the shores of Middle-Earth.

The young man who had won the favour of the "Greater King" and "The Lord of the Waters" who held himself like lords in whom the race of Númenor ran true, and his spirit burned with the intensity of the sun their bond had awakened desires long thought dead.

Longing, desire, passion ... Lust, temptations she had forgotten so long ago came back fiercely, and though she was shamed by her thoughts, Galadriel had no desire to sever their spirits; perhaps it was something carnal and sinful at first, but it had become so much more a fierce need.

A lustful longing for him and his concubines ... And She was enthralled, consumed by her passions, and though she loved her husband above all else, she found herself longing for the wolf of westernesse.

Oh ... how could she, the "Greatest of the Noldor", fall so low? It had sullied the bonds of marriage.

"I swear to you, Celeborn, that it was not my intention for any of this to befall us; I cherish you, above all else though, in my heart, I know I desire Jon Snow." Galadriel thought as she wept tears of bitter joy and sadness.

What will she say to her beloved Celebrían? Her daughter was wise beyond her years, and Galadriel knew that Celebrian would feel her mother's burgeoning love for the young mortal.

How would her beloved daughter react to it? Will she feel that her mother was betraying and insulting her beloved father? Will Celebrían treat Jon as Fëanor treated Indis?

Oh, how she wants to flee this place and mourn her husband until they could be reunited, alas this was the bitterest of poisons as Galadriel knew she was banished from the blessed realm, so ... She must face the ages of this world alone consumed by grief.

"Collect my husband's arms and armour and prepare his body for funerary rights. Is that clear?" Galadriel commanded though her voice was hoarse with grief.

"Yes, my Lady," The elves of Edhellond said obediently, looking for a way to carry out their Lady's orders.

Galadriel stood there watching as the corpse of her husband was wrapped in a fine cloak of silver thread woven with traceries of flowers she had gifted it to Celeborn on their wedding day; it was then she felt familiar presence nearing.

Looking up, Galadriel saw that it was Jon's companions ... Loras and Robar.

Upon seeing the corpse of Celeborn swaddled in silver cloth, they bowed their heads in respect.

"My heart is grieved for the loss of such a noble elf, my lady," said Robar.

Galadriel paid them no mind and simply nodded.

"Forgive me, my lady... But we have come on the command of Jon, Lady Galadriel," Loras said, receiving a rather queer look from Galadriel.

"For what purpose?" Galadriel asked curiously.

"Our brother in arms entrusted us to claim the weapon of the enemy, the spear that claimed Celeborn's life," Loras said, choosing his words carefully.

Hearing the young mortal's words, the Lady of Light growled in a fury.

"Why does Jon desire that wretched thing?" Galadriel said, her eyes burning with rage, and both knights recoiled from the Lady of Light, her fair visage marred by fury and grief.

"We do not know, Lady Galadriel, only that Jon was fearful of its power so much so that he reopened his wounds to warn us," said Robar, unaware that this filled Galadriel with a new sense of dread.

"Is Jon wounded?" Finarfin's daughter asked fearfully.

Neither Loras nor Robar answered, fearing the rage of Galadriel.

"If Jon is wounded, I would have you tell me," The Lady of Edhellond demanded with authority, and the two knights did not dare to contradict her.

"Jon was wounded when he duelled the captain of the Easterlings ... One of the Nazgûl," said Robar.

That took her by surprise. One of the Nazgûl so close to her? And did her not notice his presence?

Like Jon, Galadriel had felt a great evil nearing Isengard ... But the power she felt was far mightier and far crueller than that of the Nazgûl of that she was certain... It seemed the Lord of Mordor was adamant that Jon should perish, and so he entrusted the task to his chiefest servant," Galadriel thought.

So what magic was so foul that a Nazgûl had escaped her notice?

"Did the Nazgûl wound Jon?" Galadriel said, her heart gripped by melancholy at the thought of her wolf wounded.

"Jon was pierced by many arrows, and I fear he won't survive the night," Loras said, holding back his tears.

Galadriel bit back a groan of horror and put a hand to her mouth.

"I lost Celeborn... I couldn't bear to lose Jon, too ... Finarfin's daughter thought with determination and sighed, struggling to calm down and control her emotions.

"If this spear is so foul, I shall have my soldiers aid you; we have won the day and won't be troubled in our search," Galadriel said, gazing at her soldiers who knew the mind of their monarch without her uttering a word.

"We do not know the shape of that spear, but it is inscribed with the Black Speech of the enemy Loras said to the elves, who spat in disgust of that barbaric tongue.

Galadriel looked again at the corpse of her husband, who was covered by that beautiful cloak all except his withered rotted hand, so the Lady of Edhellond uttered a prayer for her beloved husband, hoping his soul would find the swift western winds to eternal rest.

None present uttered a word as the Lady of Light grieved though it seems she must save her other love.

"Now I will see if I can cure Jon of his malady, continue with your task Sers," Said the Lady before marching towards the tower of Orthanc accompanied by her remaining soldiers.

Loras and Robar shared a look of astonishment; through their foresight, they had sensed anguish and fear from Galadriel but also love for their brother in arms.

After a few hours of searching, Loras and Robar had returned to Orthanc, their hearts heavy with regret; despite the aid of the elves of Edhellond, they never found that cursed weapon.

The spear was gone, they had only found the iron and bronze lances of the Easterlings, and none had Black Tongue engraved on its blade. And so they journeyed back to Orthanc hoping to aid in Jon's recovery; as they neared the tower, they were greeted by two large animals.

The direwolf and Jon's Gryphon guarded the tower's entrance hoping to prevent any more misfortune from befalling their master.

If only they had known what they were going to find ...

As soon as they entered, they were overwhelmed by a sense of dread, as if a great tragedy had befallen them; all about the tower, the healers of Gondor tended to the dead and dying grinding herbs and poultices though the sweet aroma of Athelas did little to calm their weary hearts.

But to their shame, they cared little for these men... They wished to see Jon and hoped for his safety ... And when they finally got to where his brother in arms and his lovers were ... Tears filled their eyes.

There indeed lay Jon, wounded with many wounds, and his rent armour and notched sword were cast upon the floor.

The Princesses Arianne, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Írimë, as well as the Ladies Shiera, Ashara and Galadriel, wept freely while Daenerys howled in grief for her anguish was too great.

"What happened?" Loras bellowed in grief, rushing to Jon's side.

When Lady Ashara saw them, her eyes glazed with tears, and they knew Jon was

"Jon ... by the Valar... You have to wake up; Sansa and Arya are awaiting your return... I beg you wake and no make me the herald of your death," Loras said, taking his brother's hand only to realize that it was cold.

But to Loras's delight, Jon managed to weakly squeeze his hand.

"I'm sorry, my dear brother, for causing such misery ... Please do not weep, my brother ..." Jon said, opening his eyes weakly and smiling with difficulty.

"Damn, Jon… how did this happen?" Asked a shocked Robar.

"It was because of my foolishness and my selfishness, I was consumed by the fury of my wolf's blood and was led away from the battle ... and so I duelled Khamûl I would have been slain had Celeborn not come to my aid," Jon said shedding tears looking at Galadriel who merely smiled though her eyes betrayed misery.

"I bear you no malice, Jon ... Celeborn death was not of your doing," Galadriel said weeping bitter tears for which there was no comfort save the embrace of her aunt

"I'm sorry ... my fury consumed me, and I doomed him ... I'm so sorry ... Forgive me, my Lady", Jon said, crying with remorse.

"Jon ... Please ... You must fight ... We have many years to be together, so many adventures to undertake ... So many things to see", Said Arianne standing next to Jon, but her beloved wolf only smiled.

"I am sorry, my beloved viper... I am truly sorry, but I have no more strength left; I had hoped for our days to be ever blessed, riding through the fields of Gondor when the lilies are in bloom, to see the Great Greenwood in spring, to walk through the valley of Imladris under the stars"... But it seems that fate is cruel... Please do not despair, my beloved viper. I ask that you see these places in my stead and live well… And should you ever feel the burden of life is too great, look to the stars and know that I am watching over you," Jon said as Arianne burst into tears.

At that moment, Robar approached Ashara and Shiera.

"Why is this happening? ... My Ladies should be able to easily heal the wounds of these arrows," Robar asked, confused, and Shiera looked at him, her expression one of uttermost grief.

"There is more at work here than mere arrows; Jon has lost too much blood, and the arrows were coated in a foul poison ..." At that moment, the Sea Maiden sobbed, and Lady Ashara mastered her sorrow.

"We tried to close the wounds, but it did little good and Jon broke out in a terrible fever... We had no knowledge of the poison... You must know we did everything we could," Ashara said, crying in helplessness as she knew her beloved wolf would perish just like her sweet Ned.

"Damn those Eastern savages and their blackened arrows," Shiera said with bitter hatred in her voice, knowing that she would soon lose the only man she had loved utterly, oh how cruel is the fate that seems to befall those she loves.

Hearing the Lady of Starfall's grim words, Robar broke and with tears streaming down his face, he approached Jon.

"Damn Jon... Your life seems like it will be a tragedy from start to finish ... Damn that vile blood that has led you to such folly .. " Robar growled, suddenly bearing a great hatred of the skinchangers.

But to everyone's surprise, Jon just smiled and laughed a little before looking up at the ceiling.

"Jon?" Rhaenys asked, her eyes utterly bloodshot, hoping beyond reason her beloved brother would recover.

"I've given it a great deal of thought... And now, as my death draws near... I know that I was but a foolish child..." Jon said, looking at his loves and his brothers with a look full of love.

"What do you mean, Nin Mel?" Írimë asked, her face broken with pain.

"That my life was not marked from the beginning by tragedy but by love, my whole life has been full of love ... But I was too short-sighted to see it," Jon said with great sadness to everyone's confusion.

"What do you mean, my love?" Ashara asked.

At that moment, Jon smiled and gave everyone in the room a warm look, and to their horror, they realized that the light in his eyes were growing dimmer.

"My parents fell in love, a forbidden love like those of the old tales... Or rather it would have been if not for the cruelty of life... But despite this, he loved her, and she loved him; I thought that Prince Rhaegar had kidnapped my aunt whether for madness or greed none could say though it does my heart good to know I was not born of hatred, "Jon said, looking especially at Rhaenys wept bitter tears and rushed to kiss him.

"I shall love you until Arda breaks, my dear brother", Rhaenys sobbed.

"Thank you,my dear dragon. and then we come to my Uncle, he welcomed me into his home, he raised me as a trueborn son and graced me a love that I was no owed, and though my uncle paraded me as a bastard, he did it to save me from the wrath of Robert Baratheon, whom my uncle considered a truer brother than his true kin, "Jon said wistfully and sadly at the thought of the quiet wolf.

"He made you pass as his bastard so he wouldn't have to choose between you and his friend the Usurper", Rhaenys snarled, but Jon didn't seem to care.

"Yes, but I bear him no ill will, dear sister ... I couldn't choose between Robb, Bran and Rickon and my brothers in arms," Jon said, looking at Loras and Robar.

"Jon…" Loras sobbed, visibly moved by his friend's words.

"My uncle raised me, he gave me as much love as a father can give to a son, he endured the shame far better than any many would have tossed me away to die my uncle suffered the scorn of his wife and many others to honour the oath to my mother … "Jon said with tears in his eyes as he remembered those happier days.

Írimë and Galadriel merely listened as the dashing man who captured their hearts recounted the tale of his life and wept, knowing that such a noble soul shall not be seen among the Westerosi again.

The mere thought made them cry even more.

"And so I came to Highgarden ... and though I was seen as a Northern savage, Lord Mace and Lady Alerie treated me as their own kin and I came to see Willas and Garlan as my brothers ...And Margaery ... Oh, my beloved golden rose, What can I say about her that I have not already said? "Said Jon remembering his first love for the first time in my years.

"Loras ..."

"Yes, Jon? " Said the Knight of flowers, crying over the words of his brother in arms.

"If one day the Valar allow you to return to Westeros, my friend... Please thank your father for having welcomed me into his home, and thank your brothers for granting me their friendship as for Margaery tell her she shall ever be in my heart, and finally tell them I bear them no malice for siding with the Lannister, they did what they had to do for their family, Lord Mace was like a second father to me ... Well, the third to be precise ... "Said Jon joking at the end as Loras burst into tears while nodding.

"'This is a bitter adventure if it must end so, and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils - that has been more than any Tyrell deserves. "Loras said, grateful that he called this man his brother.

After sighing, Jon felt his strength fading.

"How I would love to feel the sea breeze on my face again, to see the swan ships laying in the harbour... How I would have liked to see Lord Cirdan again and that he reprimand for failures in my work ... He ... He was a mentor to me but also ... As a father to me, I ... I would have ... liked to see him again ... "Jon said crying.

"Forgive us, Jon ... We should never have left you alone," Robar said, crying.

"You have already been forgiven for many things, but not for this because this is the consequence of my recklessness ... Let wisdom prevail rather than misery. Live now years of blessings, and when you sit somewhere in peace to smoke your pipe, remember me, my friends! Because I'm afraid I won't be able to return to Annuminas with you, nor learn the secrets of the pipe you fashioned for me, "Jon said with amusement.

Jon closed his eyes, and Robar leaned in, but he soon spoke again.

"Tell Sansa and Arya that I am very sorry, that I shall not be there to see them blossom into maidens most fair, tell them not to grieve my passing but to celebrate my life and find some happiness in this blessed world, "said Jon his heart wracked by grief.

"We shall my love, I shall love them as my own children", Ashara said, embracing Shiera her anguish incomporable.

"My vision is growing dark, and I would have liked to see them one last time; they shall be fairer than any save the Elves of Aman, I have no doubt. And Anárion and Lord Glorfindel. He wished to show me his fair city, and the second my mentor wanted to cross swords with me again, and now I will never see any of them, two of my great friend".

"Enough by the Valar ... Enough Jon ... I cannot bear this misery ..." Daenerys said with her face soaked with tears.

"Dany…" Jon said with pain seeing his beloved Dragon Princess consumed by grief.

"This is not fair ... Why is fate so cruel? .. " We were so happy, "Dany said, still crying, feeling more and more empty for losing her happiness with her beloved ... The joy she had desired since she was a child.

"Life is not fair... A very horrid truth, all of us in this room know it well, Dany, don't weep my dragon queen," thought an anguished Jon when he saw his beloved aunt cry for his imminent death.

At that moment, Jon's gaze went to Írimë and Galadriel, who were shedding silent tears.

"My Ladies ... I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.", others are to let go of the pain ... Just like the one that my recklessness causes you now," Jon said, raising one of his hands with difficulty and Írimë ran to take it realizing how cold it was.

"My heart told me how little you will live in this world, Nin Mel... I always knew that we would be parted though this far too soon... Without you, my beloved dragon, I have no love for this world for now; all before me is shadow... I have no doubt that soon I will follow you to the Rooms of Command, and there I will wait until our reunion, "said Írimë weeping.

"My Nin Mel, please do not say those things because you would turn me into a thief ... to have stolen your light, alas I cannot imagine a worse crime... This is indeed a bitter farewell much sooner than what we imagined… "Jon said regretfully.

"Then fight my love, fight ... Do not leave me alone in this world until it ends ... Not yet ..." Finwë's daughter said, crying.

"I'm sorry, my Nin Mel ... But I am leaving now for the Halls of Namo to sit next to those who have died today until we leave the world to receive Erú's embrace, and a long time later, we will all return once more to the world to renew it. ... I leave all that I possess in your care, my beloved, as it holds no value to me; I wish to leave this world with my last memory being your smiling face and ask your forgiveness for causing you such anguish ", said Jon caressing the face of his beloved elf.

"Everything is forgiven... Go in peace to the light, and if possible wait for me I shall find you again even if it should take me all the ages of this world we shall be together .. " Írimë said, breaking into tears.

"Lady Galadriel ... I ask for your forgiveness for all the evils and suffering that I have caused you," Jon said remorsefully while Galadriel, surprised by his words, lowered her gaze.

"I have never borne you hatred Jon Snow; I will not do it now ... for you have given me far greater things than misery or woe could conquer, Jon and your death will leave me an emptiness as great as Celeborn's as well as a great pain in my heart because I know that we shall never meet again in this life or the next... And to never gaze upon you again is a torment that I shall never conquer, "Galadriel said, causing a great uproar as the daughter of Finfarfin showed her love for the young dragon.

The only one who was not surprised was Írimë, who only confirmed what she already knew ... Her niece had fallen for Jon, just Elwing had done oh so many centuries ago.

But not now ... Now nothing had meaning or importance for Írimë because for the daughter of Finwë and Indis, the world grew ever darker for the light of her life had faded.

It was there that Jon could feel it in his body and spirit ... He knew his time was short, and so he spoke one last time to the lady Galadriel.

"There are many virtues in you that you yourself still ignore, daughter of that kind and wise golden-haired king who rules the Noldor in the West. You have great courage and incomparable wisdom, my heart tells me that these virtues will be invaluable in the ages to come, take care my Lady, "Said Jon saying goodbye to Galadriel, who only wept for love unfulfilled.

"Now it is time to go, my loves and my friends ... If many of us" Second Born "valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold and then the throne of swords, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Keep me ever in your hearts, for you shall ever be in mine! "

And just then, Jon saw Ghost one last time his faithful companion felt the last vestiges of life slip away, and the great wolf howled in sorrow.

"Ghost ..." Jon whispered weakly as final words were heard by all.

After that, Jon dropped his arm, and all trace of life left him before the tearful gaze of his queens and his brothers in arms. And so passed Jon Snow, a proud knight of Westernesse whose like would never be seen again in these ages of men.

... promise me, Ned ...

"Forgive me, Lya ..."

Those were Ned Stark's last thoughts before Ice had cleaved his head from his shoulders.

He did not feel anything, not even the bite of the blade; he awoke to nothingness as if all light had been extinguished.

... Is this what awaits us in the end? ... Nothing? ...

Until suddenly, the former Lord of Winterfell could feel the ground again, but this wasn't the manure smeared streets of King's Landing; instead, whatever he was standing on was warm and pleasant, but he had just been executed ... Wasn't he supposed to feel nothing anymore?

Ned stood there in the blackness of this void until he perceived a strange blue light in the distance; it was beckoning to him.

Ned Stark did not know how long he walked in the middle of the darkness, but it seemed to him that an eternity had passed since he began walking toward the light; it seemed that all weariness faded from him.

"Will the old judge me? And if so, will they reward or punish me for my madness and stubbornness? They all warned me that my honour would be my death, damnation and spite await me for leaving my daughters in that den of vipers, my sons, Jon to whom I could not tell the truth about his kin, Robb who bore a burden that shouldn't have been his, so many whom I loved and now slain before their time. Damn that bastard Baelish, Cersei Lannister and Janos Slynt ,Damn everyone in that rotten Court" Ned snarled in a fury.

After what seemed an eternity, Ned finally came to the light that had called him.

It was a vast brazier with a beautiful silver-blue flame, and yet it disturbed the silent wolf.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Said a voice that Eddard Stark knew very well, and he turned in surprise to see the smiling, tear-filled face of Robert Baratheon.

But he was not the glutted boar of a man that Ned knew, but rather it was the demon of the trident as he was in his days of glory handsome, clean-shaven, with rough and hard hands the fantasy of many a maiden.

"Robert?" Ned asked, confused, and the image of his friend began to laugh.

"By the seven hells Ned ... You should have your face", Said young Robert laughing before his old friend embraced him as a brother.

"You're dead."

"Aye, just the same as you ... And look at us here," Robert said, pulling away and placing a hand on Ned's shoulder.

"Where is here? .. Where are we?" Ned asked, looking at the blue battlement with nothing but darkness, but he noticed that the smile left Robert's face, and it became hard as stone.

"Truthfully, I do not know ... or perhaps I do, but I have not accepted it ..." Robert said with a sigh.

"Speak plainly, Robert", Ned asked, confused.

"We are in an underground fortress at the westernmost end of the world... A land called Aman here is where the souls of those who live in the world come to receive their judgment before departing to wherever they may go," Said Robert sighing.

"Aman?" Ned asked, confused.

"Yes, I know... it is a rather queer business... But that's the way it is, my friend; you and I are dead though we should not linger like this," Said Robert, his tone laced with amusement.

"And to which gods should I pray now? To yours or mine? " The former Lord of Winterfell asked but to Ned's surprise, Robert just laughed and shook his head.

"I'm afraid that we both wagered on the wrong horse Ned ... I'll explain everything to you or at least what I have come to understand; that's why I requested to be here... To greet you when you arrive... Now before continuing, why? don't we get rid of this darkness? " Robert asked, regaining his jovial tone.

"How shall we do that?" Ned asked, confused.

"Well.. that depends on you... I could do it myself, but it would be better if you learnt to as well, for we are no longer bound by our physical forms; we are souls and thus not bound by the laws of the mortal realm, and so we may appear however we wish whether it be the days of our youth or the end of our lives. I'm certain there was more to it, but to ponder such subjects is rather tiresome as best and dull at the least I was never one for the lectures of wise men, and that shall never change, I fear." Robert groaned.

Watching his friend struggle to remember that way, he amused Ned by bringing back memories of the happiest days in Eyrie under the tutelage of Jon Arryn and the Maester, who instructed them on a myriad of subjects though none as strange as this.

"Then?" Ned asked, arching an eyebrow.

"It's like I told you in this place your whole existence is defined by your consciousness and thought it is no governed by the laws of our world ... Think of somewhere you want to be ... And you shall make it so", said Robert.

Ned followed his friends instructions and thought of the only place he would rather be.

"Alright, it took me a lot longer ... I knew you would pick this place even though I was hoping you'd pick a damn tavern, Ned", Robert growled with annoyance.

Ned listened to his friend with amusement and slowly opened his eyes to see a landscape filled with light, and suddenly a multitude of trees created a dense canopy over old, packed earth and humus and moss. Common trees include ash, chestnut, elm, hawthorn, ironwood, oak, sentinel, and soldier pine. At the centre of the grove stands an ancient weirwood with a face carved into it, a heart tree standing over a pool of black water.

Ned Stark's eyes filled with tears, he was at home, in the godswood of Winterfell, and there was the space where he used to sharpen and clean his sword when he wanted to be alone and meditate.

"Very good, Ned ... Now we have much to discuss", Said Robert sitting down on the grass before producing two great tankards filled to the brim with a honeyed liquor that have off a fragrant aroma.

"Even in death, you haven't changed, Robert", Ned said, laughing happily as Robert downed the stiff brew in two gulps before wiping the copious spillage from his beard.

"Shut your mouth Ned, they cut off your head, and I was gored by a fucking pig ... If you think about it, we deserve a drink," Robert said, handing him a tankard and Ned, laughing, accepted it gladly and took a deep sip.

"The honeyed ale of the North ... thought the Lord of Winterfell wistfully enchanted by the bitter and refreshing taste of his drink.

"How can you brew northern ale in a place such as this?" Ned asked, finishing his tankard.

"It's not Ale Ned, I already told you, everything here happens in our mind, you saw me fill our tankards from the barrel, and so your soul perceived it as the northern ale ... For me, this comes brew is centuries-old Arbor Gold Robert said taking another sip while Ned nodded.

"How have you regained your youth? ... You were more ..."

"A great blustering oaf who sweated through his silks and was more concerned with the company of whores than ruling, I know ... And that's one more regret that I must clean up here ..." Robert said, lowering his head.

"Robert…" Ned started to say, but his friend stopped him with a gesture.

"Calm yourself, old friend, to answer your question, I only thought of myself in my glory days when they called me" The Demon of the Trident ", and so I appear as I once did a rather marvellous trick", Robert said delightedly, pouring himself more of that liquid.

"And what shall we do to while away the hours?" Ned asked.

"We talk", His friend replied simply.

"About what?" Ned said, taking another gulp of his "Ale."

"Of many things ... As for example where we are, with whom you will go when the time comes, and of Lyanna's marriage to my damnable cousin and your nephew whom you presented as your bastard," Said Robert drinking more beer seemingly without a care in the world all the while Ned felt as if his heart had sprung back into his chest and beaten wildly.

"Robert I…" Ned started to say, but Robert stopped him with a gesture.

"Calm yourself ... All that has already passed... I always knew somehow in my heart that Lya did not love me, only that I preferred to deny it, it was far easier to be blinded to that which hurt me so" Said Robert shedding a tear without losing sight of the reaction from his best friend who now looked at his jar with great interest.

"I did what I did for my family Robert, I promised Lyanna, I promised I would take care of her son", Ned said, looking at his friend sharply, but Robert did not seem annoyed or interested to Ned's surprise.

"I know the honourable Ned Stark who forgot his wedding vows for another woman ... I knew whoever it was you must have loved her dearly to risk so much ... I was not wrong, at least concerning that", Said Robert sighing wearily.

"Robert ... We don't have to keep talking about this, none of that matters anymore ..." Ned tried to say, but Robert shook his head.

"No, Ned... we must; it is part of our atonement," Robert said with a voice like breaking stone that Ned had not heard for many years no since the siege of Pyke.

"What will we gain by opening old wounds?" Ned asked, putting his jar on the grass.

"I know my love for her was a fantasy... Like my foolish love for Lyanna, a woman who did not deserve my love and though she claims to be far nobler than I, her actions were far crueller... it seems we were met for each other though we did not see it," Said Robert laughing with a bitterness that caused Ned to snarl in anger.

"You never knew Lyanna like me, Robert you only saw her beauty, but not the iron underneath," Ned said in a moment of anger and instantly regretted having done so, believing that Robert would stamp and rage through the Lord of Storm's End merely sat there and refilled his tankard.

"You're right, I didn't truly know her, but that wasn't my fault Ned, she was the one who decided not to give me a chance without knowing me thoroughly first ... I don't deny that she had many flaws but I loved her, I really loved her, maybe not even my love for Lya would have changed me, but I would have done my best to be worthy of her... But she cared so little for the truth, although as I told you, I do not blame her, "said Robert with a distant look as if he was lost in his memories.

And Ned just sighed.

"Why do you insist on opening these old worlds?" Ned said.

"Why must you be so fucking stubborn that you cannot learn from it? By the Seven Ned, You've spent most of your days hiding from the past, and I know why ... You refuse to acknowledge Lyanna and Brandon and the part they played in our grand rebellion. You cannot hide in the shadows forever, old friend, "said Robert with satisfaction as he noticed the look of shock on Eddard's face.

"What do you mean by that?" Growled the former Lord of Winterfell, nearly losing his temper.

"Come now Ned, your sister mocked our betrothal, likening me to a whoremonger all the while cavorting with a man who was married with no thought for those she may cause harm and yet she had the gall to insult me though I doubt she spared a thought for Queen Elia and the humiliation she suffered, that was the spark that started all that disaster ... Your sister's hypocrisy, though you loved her, and rightfully mourned her death you also loathed her for her selfishness you felt robbed of a life that you rightly deserved... you were forced to marry that spiteful Tully bitch, and forced to abandon your beloved Ashara, you were bound by oath to defend the child she sired with that loathsome fucker and to be ridiculed as the whoremonger wolf, but were forced to live the entirety of your life in misery and fear for thought that I would discover the boy and kill him," Robert said taking a strong swing of the potent wine.

"Would you have done it? Would you have killed Lyanna's son? " asked Ned asking the question that haunted him since he welcomed Jon in Winterfell, and for a few moments, Robert said nothing, and Ned eyes glazed over as he dreaded the answer.

"I don't know Ned, maybe yes, maybe not ... I, I hated Rhaegar far more than I could think to loathe a man .. cowardly fucking dragonspawn .. Heh, I still hate him but that boy, Jon Snow... He is Lyanna's son if I had known .. Heh, I would have forced you to hand the boy over, and he would have come south, I probably would have raised him myself; perhaps I would have paraded him as my son and made him my heir all to spite that loathsome lion bitch and those that abomination I called a son," said Robert with a wistful smile.

"Robert ..." Eddard said, surprised by his "brother" response.

"I look at my whole life since here, and now I'm weary of it all I never desired the crown and the proof of my arrogance was accepting it ... Wasting my life chasing the fantasy of a woman who wasn't worth what I thought she was certainly not my death, you are offended, but my words ring true, Lyanna was all too happy to shame me for my vices but when it came time to show the quality of her character it was found lacking... Then I later married that miserable Lion bitch when I should have had her, and her bloody family sent to the wall... Although I shouldn't be outraged considering all the misery I caused her, perhaps that is why she fell into her brother's arms, "said Robert laughing.

"You knew?" Ned said, surprised while his friend merely laughed.

"Everything is known here, Ned, especially when they judge you ... As they will shortly do, this is meant to aid you, old friend ... to empty your heart of all worldly misery so that you may be judged accordingly .. Believe me, the person who shall carry out the sentencing... He isn't overly fond of outburst of anger nor pleading for mercy, "Said Robert shuddering to remember his judgment.

But that only intrigued Ned even more as he was curious about the trial he shall have shortly.

Who will judge me? The Old Gods or the New? " Ned asked, taking another gulp of northern ale.

"Neither one ... Remember, our gods were false ... Well, at least mine ... But the one who will judge us is the Lord of this underground fortress in which we are right now ..." The Houses of the Dead or Rooms of command it is all rather hard to remember, "Said Robert Baratheon shuddering as he remembered the Doomsman of the Valar.

"Mandos?" Ned asked curiously.

"His real name is Námo, but they call him Mandos because that's what this fortress is called ... He reminds me a great deal of the old Lion," Robert said with a sigh.

"Has he judged you already?" Ned asked, intrigued as his friend nods.

"He did, every one of the disgusting and nauseating things that I did in my life; he blamed me for my incompetence as a brother, husband, father and king as I dedicate myself to drinking, hunting and fornicating while those vipers like Varys, Pycelle and Littlefinger they were committed to promoting their interests at the cost of many lives... He judged me as an uncaring father and a coward who would not punish those who murdered sweet Elia; frankly... I thought that he would send me to the seven hells, but he has left me in this place until he deems me worthy of moving on; it has given me a great deal of time to reflect on all that I have said and done very little good though some were somewhat worth it, "said Robert sighing as he drank once more from his tankard.

For a few moments, Ned did not know what to say to his friend not only for discovering the existence of that being ... Namo or Mandos but also for the fate of his friend, a recluse until the Lord of this fortress deemed him worthy.

"I'm so sorry, Robert ... I wish I could give you some comfort in this cursed place..." Ned said compassionately.

"No, Ned, do not weep for me... I'm here by my own hands, nothing more nor less, although in the end, that Lannister bitch won having me killed. You know how it is with queens. Fickle cunts, the lot of them, and Cersei was the worst., "Robert said with a bitter smile while Ned looked at him in horror.

"How?"

"Yes, she laced my wine with milk of the poppy and fucked that fool Lancel as a bribe, that wine slowed my mind and addled my wits I could not stop the bore ... She knew I loved to drink while hunting..." Robert said with a slight smile of resignation while Ned only burst into tears when he heard it.

"Forgive me, Robert, it was my fault; I discovered your wife's adultery with her brother, and I offered a day for her and her children to escape, and it gave her the time to slay you and place that abomination on the throne, all because of my stupidity... I'm so sorry ", said Ned getting on his knees, unable to meet Roberts gaze as he wept bitter tears.

Knowing his death was of his own making.

"Now Ned, none of that matters anymore, because like us Cersei, her horrid brother, and that snivelling shit Lancel shall appear before Mandos for judgement, and he will not be magnanimous ... Now you must forget about them, I have been judged, and now I must walk the path of atonement and my atonement shall be aiding you, my old friend. "

"What should I do?" Ned said, still with tears in his eyes.

"You must accept everything you did in life, Ned, all the damn things, even those that you tell yourself that are not true or that was for your loved ones ... And many of your actions Ned ... Well, soon you will understand. , It is not my intention to turn you against your sister, but you must accept now she was no sweet innocent girl who died tragically Lyanna was a fool just as I was; she, her husband and the Royal Guards who supported them lit a spark that ended in bloodshed in misery, and your brother… "Robert began.

"What of Brandon?" Ned asked, but Robert didn't answer though his expression was one of anguish.

... What is he not telling me? ...

"You will know soon ... And you must be strong, my friend, you will see the true quality of your brother and sister, you will regret many things... That's why you must come to accept all that has happened," Robert said, placing his tankard on the ground.

"I will not regret the decisions I made to protect my family," Ned said proudly.

"I know, that's the way you are, but I didn't mean that ... Well, we've talked enough, Ned. It's time to go ..." Robert said, standing up.

"Where to?" Ned asked, standing up as well.

"In your opinion ... It's time ... Námo or Mandos is waiting for you, and I have no desire to keep him waiting," Robert said seriously.

Although Ned did not understand who Mandos was, he decided that there is no point in fighting if this was the path that souls follow when they die, he only hoped that Mandos would have mercy on him.

"Robert… Did you see Lyanna in this place?" Ned asked curiously, but to his surprise, Robert shook his head.

"No, that was my first wish as soon as I got here, but Mandos told me that she, Rhaegar and their Royal Guards are held in some great cell of this fortress where they shall receive no company on the thought of their folly to keep them company. All shall be punished, it seems for their sins no matter how great or small… "Robert said sadly as Ned lowered his head.

"How long?" Asked the wolf of the North.

"I don't know, centuries, thousands of years perhaps ... We can't do anything for them if that's what you plan," said Robert.

"She was a girl Robert .. "

"And I was but a boy, she was a girl who ran off with a man seven years her senior who was already wed giving little thought but her own happiness, Ned, please... It's time you accepted Lyanna as she was, as I should have; I cannot judge her for her folly; I was never a worthy man, I understand now, but that does not absolve her nor my cousin of their sins... It's time, friend, come on."

"When did you become so wise, Robert?" Ned asked.

"The time here is different in fact, in all the time we've been here, your head may have just been parted from your shoulders; believe me, Ned, I've been here long enough to change the way I am ... For the most part .. "

Ned was going to say something else, but suddenly everything was foggy.

"What's happening, Robert?"

"Mandos is summoning you; it's time, my friend .. Hopefully, this will most likely be the last time we see each other in this world, and we will only meet again when I have atoned for my sins.. perhaps you will keep me company in this place, although I doubt it since you were a much better man than me ... Good luck, Ned, my brother, "said Robert disappearing into the mist.

Ned wanted to go with his friend, but suddenly he was no longer in the godswood of Winterfell, now he stood before a great throne of Onyx and gold, and in it was the darkest, most imposing and terrifying figure that the ancient Lord of Winterfell had ever gazed upon.

He was a man of large countenance with hair that was the colour of silver that fell in great ringlets about his shoulders, and upon his brow was a diadem of onyx set with glittering purple gems. His eyes were like two black gems set in a withered face, and he appeared almost ghost-like; the stranger was clad in a robe of jet and seemed to absorb all light in the chambers, and under this, he wore a shirt of mail.

"Welcome, Eddard Stark ... I am the Judge of the Valar... My name is Námo, although many among the firstborn address me as Mandos. I forget nothing and knows all things that shall be, save only those that lie still in the freedom of Ilúvatar. For I am the Doomsman of the Valar," said the stranger in a voice as cold as weathered iron.

"Now, does my existence begin or end? ... thought Ned Stark resigned.