Snow - Legend25 - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: Tandem of Violins, divine and forbidden

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Loving someone to the death, doesn’t mean it will stop from the imminent killing of each other. My Shepherd. Primaris of Primarchs. Noble Archangels are with you who are just by the Sun shaking inly the darkest universe, so, no run from our chains. The famous trio of grandsons, Legolas, Celebrimbor and Jon Snow are compared unlike other grandchildren to Elf Emperor, for their resemblance of his likeness is the most evident. Crows are of the night.

Shaggy nears young Lord Rickon Stark, glistening snow has shrouded him with the full blanket, it was like rained trickles of the rainy flow. From the distance he saw no moving, he halts for a moment and only then, he mustered all of his courage and howled. Long and very grieving. Rickon was dying. For real.

He nudges lightly his Master, but no answer and no motion, he lies next to him for a final rest, to warm him while putting his big muzzle across the fallen body, for he is going to die too along with his Master Rider, the Stark. A brave little soldier he was, I was so proud to have you for my Owner. Forgive me, mother. Forgive us, mothers. Kara in her darkened instant knew, fighting on. Shaggy’s eyes are slowly closing, but at the moment, it was like he was seeing the shivering gleams of Summer and Bran who joined Nymeria.

Very soon, after he closed his eyes upon the motionless Wolf Prince, he died from his wounds alongside Rickon, and loving hearts of both caring mothers broke from afar, for not being able to do anything, not being there by their sides, all the prayers had gone unanswered. Brandon was too late, when he saw the peaceful image, he kneeled. And just gazed at a pale vision before him. How is he going to confront…to tell…it was his idea and…on the lonesome, abandoned battlefield, without touching the bodies, the baby of Starks, the youngest and Shaggydog, oh, he can’t, he won’t…it can’t be true. Summer and Nymeria just stood there and waited for Bran to do something. They won’t touch, not poke, not even grieve, he must do something and what he can? He was just a human, and yet, both laid all of their hopes on Bran Stark. Why?!

He disappointed everyone, because of his…arrogance, he lost both of them, they lost…but he lost a friend and brother. Lady Melisandre was right. Little one agreed, but it is because he loved Bran out of all siblings, always were together, he never can deny him or say no and now, he was gone. Because of him! It was his fault! The pang in his blackened heart had him gasped for the precious air that was filled with the Snow. It was innocently looking at them. Falling while snowflakes indicated the coloring of its own whiteness. There was no more white, it was finally of the most beautiful shade there is, and it was the Black Snow. The raven lands upon a tiny branch, full of glittering frost and caws in high grief. It was the great one. And Bran knew, he can look all them in the eye and face, but never Jon Snow, for Jon’s eyes were the eyes of his Father. Accusing and all – powerful, the only look he can’t shake off himself. No, he can’t go to the death, that is cowardly, but… he can’t affront Jon Snow. Ever.

For those are the eyes of the Lost King and he can’t even take it all in. No, can’t even let out his voice, his howl, the more he tried, the more it stayed within to rest. Eh, how inhumanly indeed. The direwolves waited, no one surrounded them anymore. They were all alone. And he can release his sorrow without any shame or disgrace. The Uncle was more the father for the nephew while the true son belonged far more to the line of another Uncle, and that was Ben and they all were somewhere in between. Bran Stark got up, something was happening to him, from irises started bleeding a deathly color of black, from every pore, even his ears, he was very soon enwrapped while the Raven watched and the most gruesome howl in every way was flying highly and mightily, it was shuddering the realm of wolves and even more, Feanor heard it from Valinor, it was so simple and yet, even Jon from his secluded cell was in the severe dismay. Defeated for the death of the youngest alongside his Shaggydog who bled to the death. If Bran something doesn’t do, there will be all Seven Hells to pay and what Edna prophesized, will be executed, for Jon Snow will come for the House of the Dragon too.

- Nymeria, Summer, are you still with me?! I don’t see anything anymore and I feel that the revenge, the most horrifying is awakening in our Jon Snow, and he will fall to the Ring greatly. He won’t stop until every Dragon isn’t dead. Is this how the Three Eyed Raven is born?! – he looks at them, utterly paranoid, out of himself, and there is no answer, they just watched, let it happen. And finally, he saw him. The Death itself! Mandos. Who is watching the Stark.

Without any thinking, he took the shard of the remaining, once greatsword and stabbed himself to all deaths, cursing the Life and so it shall be, he is now, somewhere, knowing nothing, neither how the death of his was given the reactions or responses, he was just merry he was here, for that was the only way. The lament to the Great Mandos. Of the Greatness he was. And he falls to his knees, before the Death itself, upon his throne and exspressed the most haunting song of Ice and Fire before Mandos, he sang and lamented, to take his life instead of Rickon and Shaggy. For he was the awakened Three Eyed Raven, his life is worthier and Mandos in all his highest wisdom sneered at the hubris of one human in front of him. Worthier? What a fool!

- You want me, oh Great Mandos! – No, the time of theirs has come. You silly child – the whisper, nothing else. – Give them back! I am giving up on my life! – That is not how it works, price demands much HIGHER. What do you give, indeed?! Debt is to be returned, this is why it is called the Pact! – Everything! Anything you desire, just say it. – Then, I want your legs. – Take it! – I want your eyes. – Take it! – How far are you capable of going? – Take it all! – Mandos stands up, eying the pitiful sight, not because he was wretched, but because he permitted himself to be fulfilled by empty wretchedness. – You are one of the rarest who could do it by the suicide. I do not prefer those who think their limits are much higher than our Creator.

- I am weak! I have no might! – And yet, you arrogantly stood up to me?! Do you even know with what you are tampering here?! You are treading across the closest abyss of any Life that could be. Do not play with Death. Do not sneer at the Death! – it was the rise of the Voice they all here when it is coming, when they know their hour is due and highly anticipated. – I do not, just please – and the Wolf weeps as one Lone Wolf could ever be and Mandos feels sad. – Take them, but, you have to choose well, two of these dead souls who are waiting the long awaiting departure to another life, off this world or somewhere distant. Where nobody can reach them anymore, or anyhow follow, not even restrain the denied freedom for so long, that even each of star began counting the days of springs. When the dream is coming back?! Do you need to beg? – Bran Stark is being overwhelmed that he got another chance, even if impossible as this one, even so, he wandered amid all those souls who stared at him, he bore it all, for such hope is rarely bestowed to anyone and he who wandered wasn’t lost, he knew precisely to whom he is going and seeking and it transpired.

Turning, just a tad, and he saw them. Rickon Stark smiling with Shaggydog, together in life and so they will be in their death, for the Warg wielder always finds the solace in the animal he chose to take shape after the Death and it was Shaggydog. Bran closes the distance and asks.

- Rickon, are we going home?! – How did you recognize us?! We are both astonished! – yes, Shaggy perked up his enlivened ears in the question, looking amazed so. – I would never forget you, never stop loving you. You know that! – But, obviously, you are just a human! – I am three eyed raven! Your deaths brought this out of me! – at the outside world, the raven took the sailing flight of his. – We go home, take my hand. Rickon! – But here is so awesome! I want to explore or... – I love you, my brother, always.

Never stopped and unexpectedly, Rickon was back. Brushing the most common snow off himself and his Shaggy who wagged happily his long furry tail, licking and loving his Owner who laughed heartily and merrily from the North, whose heartfelt joy could be felt to the South. Wrestling together in the warmhearted embrace, Shaggydog is so joyful, he can’t express it neither knowing how and never such happiness could be before, for succeeding to reach on time, never being late, for saving his Wolf Prince, he doesn’t know he was dead. Legend was given birth. The world had shone so beautifully like never before on that day, and all others that are to come, won’t be like this was, even at the desolated battleground with the death that is all around surrounding, the mirth has found its way to them and both mothers felt such relief that can’t be described, the weight was off their burdened, strong backs, thanks to him, and those who sensed the most, regardless of the distance, especially Jon Snow, were relieved as well.

Young Lord unawares turns, calling out his name albeit joining Nymeria and Summer in joy, all were rejoicing, and upon saying his name, he is facing Brandon Stark. He was looking just fine, without words sturdily duo held themselves hugged, taking one another into wolfish arms, enjoying so, famous duet might save us all.

And… God was glad… their vigor restored. We returned…stone upon stone to be left, King or Prince, Queen or Princess, The Promised was delivered.

And served because Rickon held out as long as he could for another like the Lone Wolf that protects his pack, eventually, he died to be reborn anon, altogether with his wolf while white winds howled across the foggy snowlands, the mist fell and snow was cleansing the life from the impurities of fell.

Thus forlorn breaths blow to princely Wolf boy and his Direwolf. Matriarchs who stayed behind cried unnumbered tears for Grace is granted only once.
Once in a lifetime, leave all behind and beyond…such the likeness never evermore. All the spheres of Death were humbled by the Song of Lone Raven!

During which, breeding mares, whether of Feanor or Valyria are rekindled, for every other mare has another form of title, be it spouse, or a simple mate.
Partners how in life and so in death. What is there else to offer, promise, suffer or sacrifice? Under the heavy snow of madness. Swear upon honor in his name, in the same likeness of the intelligent design, the image is reimagined, hence, Brandon Stark shortened his lifespan alike his father before him.

I am the demon who took his own life, why did you tempt me with the vision of an angel I begin to admire and love? Because Night King came from our revengeful bloodline.

Chapter 2: Blood stained Howling, bleeding and bloodied Dracarys

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In the sacred blood, lies the substance that is making the genes possessive, the plasma territorial and the cells domineering. Both Great Eagles are coming at the same time as the party of two riders and three direwolves to the rescue, to accomplish the mission because of which All Men Must Die and so the Prayer of the Highlanders was sung again. For we have no King but the King whose name is Stark, we do not know anyone but him and so it shall be from now on and always. To the blood and black death, some situations are unendurable, that is how it was with Arya Stark who pushed Renly from the destructive path, leading him to the safety of the thick bushes from which they stared upon the Battle of Titans and Giants, Kaida with Baelor Targaryen on one side and Benjen Stark who is simmering with golden power on Kara on the other side.

Without hesitation both Powers of the World are crushed upon each other in the bellowed screeches and summoning bellows, like the waves who are surging through each of the party, the collision proved to be unequaled by anything that was to be witnessed while Original Pack of Four are clashing against the Trio Water Dragons with such incomprehensible strength. In this hour and at that place, Baelor as the High Priest tapped into the darkness and unbridled all of his latent abilities of the Faith of Seven and around Ben and Kara, all of 7, indeed, Gods were befalling on the two of them who simultaneously are in the clinch with the strong Kaida who had Baelor on her side, wasn’t alone like Edna with the Wolf. For that is essentially the weakness.

Wolves can fight alone, Dragons not and hence, this was the outcome that was falling upon Ben Stark who managed jointly with his Kara to fend for themselves and fend off however they are able despite the tormenting position and dire circ*mstances. Who would assume that Baelor was hiding such an ace up his sleeves?! The blood was all over the place, encircling the fell place. Arya was overcome by her own feelings toward her family, for Baelor and children were her own and Uncle Ben is her respective childhood! What to do?! She must protect Renly Baratheon at all costs! Yes, she has to take him where is safe, she can’t do anything in here, must not interfere in spite of how her fiery heart is beating for the yearning, she is going merely to jeopardize both sides, even more so!

- Renly, listen to me. – Yes, oh yes, oh sorry, I should be a man and bring you back and… - Listen! – she cupped his pumpkin head and imposed her will to obey her orders, she is going to keep the word she has given to none other than Tywin Lannister. – We have no power in here and any influence, I sense that my Wolf is coming and not just for me, my brothers are arriving with the joined forces! So, both of us should follow our instincts.

- I am afraid to move, what if we come across Maekar?! I can’t even fathom what he is going to do to us or with our mere souls, or anyhow survive him if I meet ever again that bastard face of his, for his beauty is pure venom by self! – On three! – Let me take breath! – One. – Wait, I am so scared, I should express virility, I mean, be more gallant, you know what I mean? Chivalry and such, because of your brother Robb and everyone or...- Two. – May we do it on three and half?! – panic overthrew him and she said it. – THREE! RUN! RUN! – as soon as they emerged out, her three sons were after their necks, they say the bigger they are the harder they fall. With them was different, not only they adapted more to the dry land, but they are swifter than Great Eagles! With so much agility in only their upper bodies, they were quaking the whole domains, which was felt even on the Wall, the shudders and trembling chills all over the North, it was unthinkable that such Forces in the World ever were alive in the first place, but Arya was sly and immediately shoved Renly further into the thickest of the overgrown shrubs. Safe.

Because they are bringing down the whole greenwoods, including even the giant forests and the old trees! It was maniacal how much strength in their breath the trio possessed as well and it wasn’t the usual Dragon fire, this was freezing in the spot and Ben with the joint potencies he found in Wolves, marched resembling the case hardened trooper, through the hardest times and unto the direst of the hours of his life, he was King’s brother who doesn’t f*cking bow, kneel or bend over to anyone except to his family! Go Kara! GO! RELEASE IT GIRL! And it was the HOWL of ALL HOWLS! The God HOWL and it made even Trio with their father who is joined to Kaida to fall back. What was this?!

It was shaking not only their eardrums, the entire organisms, even Life was shaken up from the beginning, to the highest brink! She was magnificent, and the Wolves around the globe responded, hoarding the necessary billow she was in need to perfect and complete the final assault at all of the Dragons all the while Ben Stark is a sight to admire, taking all his pride in her and command over Wolves of Arda, bursting out concurrently the golden magic of his acknowledged brother and what is left inside him after he poured everything he has owned into the Orb of Spinning Wheel, he mastered both his and Glorfindel’s magic like it was nothing. Yes, Kara was majestic, but Ben was something else and from another side of the reality plane, Ned Stark watched his baby brother how he owns the day against all kinds of Dragons. So strong, whatever life threw at him, he got his strength back all over again, took what had him carry on and devoted all of his existence on the perhaps, the most simplest of joys, but that is what made him so damn powerful of them all. His duty was done here, for now. Arya during running with breathless Renly was the unbending leverage, she will break before she ever bends unlike Renly who was that much exhausted by love ministrations of Maekar that he could barely walk and yet, he had to run, he is not believing how the Princess was also untainted by any hickeys or mark?

Hm, it has to do something with all their Stark secrets or something is else in the grander plan, nevertheless, he had a feeling she will tell them everything, if they go through this still breathing and with all limbs in place. Orienting and guiding the ordained path, very soon they were upon the vast clearing when abruptly they are enclosed by Daemon’s Targaryen mutants. Oh, no. Renly thought to himself. No, no, what the f*ck is IT?

- I can’t Arya, I just… - they are bellowing at them and every screech, is getting their heads spin. – Surrender, give us Baratheon blood, surrender, or die together. – Back, Renly, back! Just f*cking go back – out of her fine leathered sheaths, she pulled out two SAIS, weapons that are used by the Ancient group of her ancestors, therefore without halting she was more than ever before, willing to fight her odds. She was mad.

Renly Baratheon could just stand there and watch how each life experience shaped her into an agile and lethal warrior she is right now and here. Firstly she bent over and with one swift move, slit their necks, she jumped high and another group welcomed by different kinds of slashes, for slices were showering from every corner. Sharp and deadly. Prior to the previous round, she got bitten! Baelor feels that Daemon went too far!

Which enraged his already losing battle in regard to the War and he pushes every of his supreme aces to the brim and their children drew the vigorous essence just from one her painful cry and in this very turning point of his undignified life, Renly Baratheon called his power from the inwardly resources and before Arya was swarmed on and bitten deeper, the huge blast of shockwave was being broken free from his skills on the cellular level. The mutants disappeared into their hideaways during which he approaches Arya, there was no need to use a sword, for he lost that one anyway, but he was there with her and just for the Princess of the North right there and then. For Ned’s little lady. Helping her to clean, bandage with their rags and tend to injuries which are thankfully, only skin deep. On every nook, the peril is threatening. She gazed up at Renly in a high gratitude she from this moment cultivated for a stag!

- Thank you. Renly. I had no… - Renly smiles before fainting. – What the? Hey, Renly?! Ren?! – f*ck him, he slept like a HOG! Carry him even!

In the meantime, Benjen was pressed down from Kara and he fell down with Baelor. In the colliding duel, Ben drew his greatsword Fire against Valyrian Steel. At odds they are forever because of this magnificence in just one element of the distinct variant that rests upon the very same substance. The matter of metal which built kingdoms and took down unseen vastness of Empires. Whilst Kara is entwined with Kaida in the odd dance of battling sides where Original Pack did the same versus the Trio of Water Dragon kinds, during which Arya lifts her head in the alerting state.
What now?! The Sprite of Targaryen mutated genes shows itself in all its colossal size with height overreaching gargantuan trolls by a tremendous dwelling soul in. f*ck!
Steadily it was growing so cold, dark, full of horrors. Materials on her and Renly weren’t getting anyhow warmer even if these were of the finest fibers.

In my eyes you see your death. Fire was dancing and surrounding us. The outrageous terror of the Dragon is echoing all the seven realms. The most raging happiness is the crying irises. I do not want for you to restrain yourself in front of myself. I want it all. I want so much that it hurts. Intensifying is a feeling like you are learning to fly. Awaited something patiently and desperately, that now all her being is crying to survive, you are Lone Wolf too.
*
I am free alike the Wind! Hold nothing back against me and myself!

Chapter 3: Maddened Bull

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Hand in hand at the High Court. She got this mirage in her head, because in the face of death or another bondage, you preserve in yourself what is the primordial inside you, the primal feel before you fall to their captivity once again and in steely confines put, wrapped around you, and that image showed her the entire kaleidoscope of Uncle Glor’s life. Why him?! Yes, she was touched by that golden aura when it was sent to Uncle Ben and she understands now why she was so strong. Why Starks, no matter what is done to them, they prevail, one way or another.

Glorfindel was the Lone Wolf too, like all of them, capable to do unbelievable and unimagined things, for the sake of survival not just of his life, but primary for the pack, and if it must be so, lay down your life for the grandest cause and there is no grander than of those you think, feel or see as your family, from shadows he was the one who protects while doing unsightly evil doings. And who is going to tell Sansa about him?! Ramsay, he is the key through understanding. So unseemly, yet truly. And while someone is fighting for another day, the Great Elephants who kept their vow, after the Fall of Gondolin, found the new place where they will settle and which they are going to inhabit with their newly young ones, newborns of this world. Thus joining the newest Circle of Life and the Sprite spoke to her. He is going to eat her if they don’t hand over themselves. Better dead than anyone else’s. That voice was abysmally ill.

- Give me Baratheon, girl. Or I am sticking my tongue within your cavern to nest.

- It only indicates that all I need to do is cut it out then, and aren’t you afraid along with your dearest Master that you are going to attract wrath of my husband?!

- Your husband was clear, regardless how much it hurts him now. You are better as a corpse than to ever let you go, or even better, he might just use your body for the next level of experiments, he loves you very much that it hurts.

- I felt it! – bringing up her weapons once more. All of her body is readied to strike him down, just one perfect move and the rest is the Music itself! – the Sprite laughed evilly and loudly, resonating was the Life inly, and on all sides of the wild.

- You are a funny girl.

- I am Lady! – No, you are a little girl that is playing with thorns! I am the King with many of those, my little one, do not be silly and surrender. – I don’t see what you are bragging about – she snorts haughtily.

- Which is just your problem from here, Little Lady of Winterfell – everything in her strained mind, screams to protect Renly!

- But that man, goes back to the House of the Dragon, dead or alive, it is the same! – it was coming and previous to all her knowledge, now wasn’t sure what was happening, the Sprite at one point was in front of her, only to find oneself behind her.

So, this was the deceiving magic and she promptly swirls around, delivering the first stronger slash, drawing out the creepy scream out of the imposing Creature and how the time was passing, the yearning for her Father grew stronger. His absence was intolerable and she did everything she could in this grey world to survive and guard her family well, alongside with friends and everyone else, to no avail, she can’t save everyone, nor help herself for the very first time in this destined place.

Neither is bound to find any salvation or defending her own skin along the path. All what was keeping her present and succeeded to maintain her composure was the promise she vowed to Lord Lannister. And let her die thousands of deaths, she will be doomed for eternal abysses if she doesn’t make her word come true!

Then, what is all the world’s Pacts and Covenants when she can’t hold up her respective word to another sentient being as was Tywin, heedless of the human monster he was and tried to reason what he has done, to wash himself from sins, in the end, he did the right thing by offering her what no one ever will, the chance to show mostly to herself, that she is in every sense and ways, not only deserving, but fitting to stand side by side with the strongest of all the realms of the grey world.

Arya Stark shouts her howling battle cry that was reverberating through the tiniest threads of all the living and she jumps, charging in the twirling motions at the monsterlike magical life, though got cast away in a brutal fashion, hitting her firm back against one of the sharpened rocks, thankfully, the Dragon texture protected her skin, still, how long her bones will be left intact inside her body and frail spine unbroken?!

For you can harden your flesh, never the internal organs. The creature shrieks diabolically and frighteningly, and all the fear disappears by the paradox, the adrenaline for the surviving has kicked in and she was up, on her wobbly, staggering legs. Her shaky and steadfast body was giving the unstable signs of the excruciating strain she was giving to this inhumanly bestial fight. Squeezing the handles of her sais, gripping their might, tightening into the fists, clenching the teeth, her murderous look was all what he needs to see, she was one of the Faceless now.
Making the skilled posture for the mortal combat while the fatal strokes waited to be delivered upon. The lovely seams of her winter dress were folding around her lithe movements, following her swiftness and flexible exactness she delivers.

The Sprite sneers and attacks, like a bull, she doesn’t move and with one leap she was near to slit the thin neck, for that was the visible weakness, merely for the shadow thorns as he morbidly promised, started rushing out from his build with the plain intention to impale her on the thorny parts, however, thanks to her professional and experienced agility she saved herself and her life, spinning in the full air, but before she could touch the ground, the piercing tips of the thorn power, grazed her slightly, the blunt intent was to penetrate her and disable whilst she made another half star move in the air, prior to her touchdown, but even then, he awaited her, welcoming by the protruded limbs of his sick skill which she evaded by the exceptional prowess.

Her Sais are dripping with blood. For this was the Art of not strength, or who is deftly, neither even who is the smartest with the wits, it was the pure survival game where who gets the first strike done in the perfected fashion, wins the day! She feels her stamina is failing her and in the most pressing moment of her existential crisis, she is cornered by one of the shadowy thorns, being jostled up, and engrained into the rocky stuff made of stars, she is hollering in the greatest despair!

- You are going to die! Give in! Or you prefer the death to the point you are favoring blood instead of your husband?! Just to warn you, he would rather have you dead than alive with another or ever with your freedom untouched! YIELD or Perish! – she cries out, her tears of bled scorn and scorned desperation are the harrowing dreads of the horrid promises.

- I don’t want to die. I want to live! NO! – seeing how her full life is passing before her.

- All you need is to give in together with Baratheon blood! Give yourself and him, all to us! – who is speaking through this Sprite?! No! This is the Final...

The very last time she shows weakness to the undeserving of her scornful tears, not because she is losing, while gripping not to be stabbed, holding on the hanging thread of her sane mindfulness, but because she is proving just to her own being that she was no match for everyone.

And every her battle, fight or brawls, gaining of the skills, practicing until she dies and training to the releasing her very spirit unto the deathless wishes, all to go now in vain?

- This is your moment. Give up on yourself and to him! All of what is consisting your free will and submit. The best lifestyle is yet to begin then, yet, if you do not wish to be ours, the suffering is all what awaits, and the easygoing, comfortable life, brimful with easiness, shall be forever closed for the likes of you. For we do not fancy the like of yours! Complete submission or no coexistence for any of our kind, it is how must be!

So easy, and yet, NO! Doing the unbelievable, just with the sheer willpower she pushed back the hulky monstrosity in front of her threatening existing, because just by living, she can do something, with the death, it ends all, the journey is finished. The Sprite wasn’t sure what was taking place but, her awakening Warg Powers are doing that her psionic capabilities are like the crafts of all Arts scurry all over her and throughout her breathing organism and she senses that this was it!

The way it spoke, it wasn’t because it was learned, taught or this was the only fashion it knew, recognized and spoke of it, but because of the simple vulnerability, yes, mere and crude to veracity of how the ways are and by what means it was done. How far such a species is competent of going was incomprehensible. The spiky members are being shoved in whence it came, after which, Arya was breaking free by her self-discipline and staunch strength of will. With the convulsed muscles in both arms and legs, her upper body was sustaining the considerable damage, still, she moved on, by throwing Renly’s fainted fleshy form over her hurt shoulder, starting to run away whilst the brutish malevolence was after the two of them, gasping for breath to catch the precious air to fill her spent lungs which desperately needed freshness whiles a giantlike soon succumbs to injuries.

Without warning, her menstrual blood broke out, soaking her elven dress of the well absorbent qualities, in warmness and dryness, of the same structure and components as was on Renly too, for both are adorned in Targaryen colors. Right now, leaking bad blood attracted Dark Elves of starlight to them.

I will let you come to me, the more I force, the more you break free.

Chapter 4: And who are you?! Sending our regards. The North remembers.

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The Patriarch of cold eyes, of fallen angels and demons alike. Archangels of Dark Elves enclosed themselves around her and Baratheon, seeing the state in which she was in, made it all easy for them. What she couldn’t comprehend is…were they always dwelling here? Out of sight from anyone within these and outer borders?! So, they know her and him. She clutches protectively at Renly. Please, God, have mercy. Under the glistering night sky, pray.

- Look what the fortune brought at our doorstep – the visions of theirs, comparing to the paleness of death, are nothing similarly to be described to her, these people see no Sun, they are all about Moon and starry skies. This is what is compromising their life and of which they live under strict rules since the day of the First Dawn of Men. – We do not favor much you men, in our lands, but a woman always is welcome to our herd.

What now?! Lost she is in the farthest corner of her subconscious mind, hearing the words of Tywin Lannister he once told her, speaks to her as though they are in the same library so many years ago, it seems long, though, it isn’t, it is the individual’s sentiment of Time and Space, the sense that can attest to be so wrong on a multitude occasions, a lot more than lots of snow anyway. Tywin smiles kindly back at her, sometimes, the only time when his face is not arrayed by anything but disdain for the world he lived in. For his grandness couldn’t contain all the severity of his demise by the same arrogance that became his doom one day. Not to even his birth children, he wasn’t so close as he was with Arya, because she is the forbidden fruit he cannot own.

- You are not mine, but I would love many times you are.

- Lord Lannister, my Dad is soon coming, he wouldn’t like to see you…

- See me doing what? Sniffing around? I am not a dog. I am a lion, child.

- And I am Wolf.

- No, still a small cub, but you will grow strong and tall, proud! – he approaches calmly, she backs down, looking up at him like he was the sheer mountain of man himself.

- Now, tell me, what one little wolf whelp has anything to find in here, amidst the secret library? Hm?

- The same question I can throw at you! Because you revel in suffering of others. Even if you offer me the world, I do not need it even when it means starvation of my heart.
- True, but when your time comes, the last name you will invoke will be of lion – she snorts at him.

- I have never even called for my Father when I am in danger, why would I you?! – he grins slyly at this statement, it was very dangerous to dance with him and yet, she is daring, seeing all the potential that could be his, still, she is else’s, oh, this girl.

He loved her more than her mother, as though she ever would try love him in turn, well, he would rather kill her in the open bareness for everyone to witness, but her daughter is his daughter too and it holds all the shadows of this world he hated too well to ever change the ways, because every single time when he thinks of Ned Stark, he casts a larger shadow than before, even when he was already too much great. No one should be so grand, no one, and yet, he wasn’t someone who can ever be compared to such a greatness he envies in Ned Stark. Thank God and his Jaime was sharper and brighter regarding his own pride, taking freely offered teachings of his like his own together with that…Big Woman. Sometimes, it surmised everything what people feared and together admired about future Dame Brienne of Tarth.

- Admit to me, which one of these books are of interest for you?! From where do you want to draw your inspiration? I want to know, Arya Stark – he turns around, casting kind glances at her, the rare ones for such a fierce and cruel man who goes far, and always, King is the one who cleans after his sh*t he has done, no one else. Fortunately for him, this child wasn’t colored yet by the grey world they lived in and her innocence, still untainted, never to be lost, he would make it last and affirm it, hellbent on staying that way, was shining brightly, shiner than of sunlight through her wonderful eyes of wander and awe.

- Don’t tell me you read them all!

- Yes, I did, I love books!

- Even that big, thick ones?!

- The biggest!

- Wow, and what does it say?!

- What are you interested at, that is the passion you follow and create your respective story when you put all the pieces together. It all depends on what you want. So, let me help you. I insist!

- Well, I know I am going to become good one on one, or several opponents, but, what when it happens that I am just, you know…

- Surrounded? – his cunning and subtle mind is unmatched, he knows even far before you vocalize the concern.

- Yes! How did you know?! No way, don’t tell me you read minds as well!

- Well, if that would be the case, I believe I wouldn’t have a need to learn how to read human’s behaviors.

- You can do that?! That is even far more amazing! – he amazes her, here his pride grew as Mountain indeed.

- It is a great feel when you know your worth! – she feeds his ego unwittingly, but willing.

- Tell me more! Please! Is there some magic or trick or…

- No trick – looking sneakily around, just in case if someone isn’t coming their way, before he whispered to her, returning his blessed attention, all upon the little girl whose eyes could be his, full of the childlike wisdom and wits beyond her child’s years.

- Do you want me to show you, what do we do, when we are in the pinch?

- You want to pinch me!?

- No, that is idiom, I meant trouble!

- Ah, sorry, sorry, oh…yes, yes! – he offers a hand and she has taken his larger one, hm, nothing like her Dad’s, his is bigger and…wolfy. This was a lion, whose claws are long and sharp, do not inspire in you the necessary consolation or the support that her Dad’s back would offer, but it was a different feeling. She trusts him, he kept her through a mystic passage where he reveals to his…all wonders and marvels, what a mystery room of his could show and provide to her.

Bright, unusual for the man of his stature, and regarding it was after all, Lord Lannister. So unlike him! And yet, it was everything what he represented and wanted people to talk about him or see in his family.

- You see, no matter how big or powerful, I invented the method of the mind that works, even if you are surrounded by thousands!

- But…- listens carefully, the brainy side of her head, starts to wheel all the way, around, whenever she is faced with Great Lord’s lessons she was given free, so that by the highest respect she honors him – what if it fails, what you are teaching? To pass it on me?

- It just means…that at the time of your doom, you weren’t using your brains, but…vanity. Trust me, I know these things, especially Elves, they can read from miles our human hubris.

- But, Lord Lannister – his heartbeat skips the beat - what about their another kind.

- Targaryens?

- Yes, Sire, the Grand Dragons! – this is where he went silent.

- The only advice which I can give, to you, if you ever get ensnared in their Dragon snares is that you either flee or fight… or yield, that is the smartest to do if you do not possess wolf’s pride to the point it overreaches sanity, then all is lost for you or your own, for they just burn, kill in various ways, unwaveringly, with no faltering. Dragons do not hesitate to demonstrate cruelty, yet before death, torture is which is left, all what awaits the rebellious spirits that won’t bring anything of good, but bestow more suffering and torments of such fearing imagination. You are either theirs or that is just it, they can’t bear your freedom or that you belong to another faction, to someone. There is no much of negotiations with them or discussion. Just full submission. They are the mad ones because of the way they live. I don’t like them at all. They are different, the wild race and there is nothing you can do about it – her next innocent question left him unprepared, it wasn’t a child’s fault for the lack of insight, she is just a young lady that is not his, never will be his daughter, for he saw everything in her, through whom he could plant his another seed, but if not by blood, he will through teachings, lessons and wisdom of the lion, that will be their little secret he was so proud of, and with which he died by, the last thing on his mind, was Arya Stark.

- Would you ever cave in to any Elf? Or Targaryen, in the least? – he looked at her, hard and long, prior to giving his answer to her, taking and letting a sigh out. – NO.

If someone asked Tywin Lannister the Great, this would be his answer which sealed his doom.
It is also the first time she saw this side of him, the one everyone is familiar about so well, it is an amazing feat she even got that far without seeing shadow that always lurks from a corner of his mind, now, a shadowed part of his evilness is fully revealing before her innocence he prays she never loses, for he would fight for it, when already she is not his own.

- My child, the unmeant daughter, Princess of the North and a little lady. If someone would offer me Power of God, my first, very foremost and primary duty would be, complete eradication of these BEASTS! This is what they are! They are white lizards, I can’t even take a look at their fairy faces! I would better, should much rather, readily torture baby in my dungeons, until that creature doesn’t release the finest of its last gasp!

Only then, he realized his mistake in the mere fright. She got scared. Backing down, stepping away from him. He sighs, gently seizing her, she lets him, it isn’t like she can do anything against him, yet, she still trusted him unconditionally, while he pulled her closer to his being. Reaching for gentleness, trying in her wee eyes to find his lost self, to see that side which he after a long time ago, by his will, betrayed. It doesn’t need to be this way with her. Shouldn’t. Wishing to bestow on, Little Wolf Princess of all North, the one he can only dream that he owns, never to be his, but forever to belong to another, for unfair is life, however it has given him the chance he wasn’t gifted with and he is very now giving it to her.

His… Arya Stark, of the dream he doesn’t dare to fulfill, and so I spoke, the Lord of his own House, for the rains will visit his halls as well, oh, not even the soul will be there to hear his cries, for all what he coveted was the acceptance, acknowledgement, he craved for it so bad, it hurts him even to live in peace. If you can’t already be mine alone, then I am going to make it last, every second to be worth it, of my subsiding sacrifice, because, perhaps, I never wished to be this way.

I just desired, in my black heart, that my family stands above everyone else, recognized, returning to my own in hope that one day, one of my own indeed will sit on the same Throne, heedless of odds. He tells her something that will not only be of use, but of the greatest help if she ever finds herself in a compromising situation from which she can’t run. He won’t betray her trust, when he already did this his self. Reassuring her with words which live on. Do not play the hero. Speak the truth, even though you do not like it. Say it. Utter it. Before Elves or enemy, all lies must fall, just as waterfalls.

Everything is subtly against us in lion’s occult library, at odds we are with a truth and the truth is, humans are born evil, kindness is learned as much as the hate that shaped the pure evilness which lives in the vilest souls when darkened is the core. It is the natural circle when they meet worse than selves.
Becoming a human while growing old, my life is passed away, as years that passed plentifully, but what I saw on that day, I see myself in you and through whom I live now. Someday, everything is going to be all right and we will become better people, until that day comes, remember this...old man.

Grandsire who loved you wholeheartedly, always paying my debt, our theme was always of the funeral of ours, never of someone else’s. So we spoke...
Grip the soaking sheets in blood, for even lions weep. We feel, we bleed, make us roar and we shall rise. The golden lions are yet to return at big Doors!
*
Deeply rainfall and darkly downfall of the deepest and darkest…

Tywin: And who are you that I must bow so low? – proud Lord asked.
Maekar: Coat of gold or red, lion still has claws, yours are sharpest of all.
Tywin: And so I spoke now, this Lord of Lannisters, upon whom, rains befall my hollow halls. Never to be refilled, for they are empied by the fullness of the destined sorrows after all.

And not a soul to be there, to hear. The heart’s beating, the heartbeats of the lone spirit. I hated them with no bounds, and now I am grandpa to one of them. To the silver Dragon Lady.

A small smile…I was taking pride in the wrong way. You were my greatest legacy. The irony of all, is that Godfather to his Targaryen grandchild, comes to be the elder Bolton himself. Guarding to the blood, protecting by the Will of North’s Wall and fighting to the death for all.

*
While the Grand Clash of Titans and Giants goes on, once the beautiful nature, becomes the devastating battlefield. Mother Nature will need time to heal and restore how it was before, all the while Kara wasn’t able to be there when God Winter came due to delicate circ*mstances she was in, it required the sacrifice where she wouldn’t be on the brink to lose her vitality once again, for recovering took a long, slow and ailing pace, but now, thanks to the patience and the wisest head among the Starks, now it all was coming to the fullest fruition. She is in her full strenght and too many alphas in one place, can’t be good, and Starks are all ALPHAS!

Chapter 5: Champion of the golden lions

Chapter Text

When someone is looking at you like the life really depends truthfully just on you and beg you with his eyes, do not hate me, please. Boring into her his irises of the man who possibly lost his way, but never what is the right judgment of the living. For she was no slave or servant of his. Property the least, the possession she will never be to anyone and yet, you can’t uphold the ownership, nor assert it over anyone without the free will and so, he tells more.

- Whenever you find yourself alone, surrounded by the enemy that is larger than you or the life you live, and you still have got what to hold on to, and whatever there is left to protect, you defend to the finishing lines. Never give up, even when all is confusing and seems like there is no end and no beginning, when you are not sure if this is the right path, then you know, you are on the good one. Whenever there is a doubt, that is your most righteous guide. When the doubts disappear from your life, you cease to be human, and you are becoming something you, someday, won’t even recognize. You do not know where this all leads, but just follow the signs on the road. If anything else, I will be always your LION!

Arya wishes to utter something when he showed up. Finding them. Ned Stark. Resembling the mad wolf more than anything, the Prime Alpha spoke it.

- Let go of my child. Get away. Lannister – it was the open threat – I do not touch upon what is yours, I implore you to respect mine as well, for there will be consequences to pay, for we both know, you may fool the world, but between you and me, you are the one who needs to use the dirty schemes to get what you want. You were never the fair player because you know this is the only way you can win. My patience is expiring.

The little Lady of all that makes the North, Wall and Winterfell, never saw her father to speak like this, look like that or to even be toward people in this way. He was always the one who is patient, honorable and strict, but this was the deep feud between the two men that most likely is very well masked and cuts deeper than any root about what they think toward one another, however they kept their masks on as if their pride may rely only on what is the most important as just the Northman’s creed, because Ned is the man who follows the code, allowing them to stay, Tywin dances around the same faith and wins, but that is, as always, the short lived victory. In the end, in the long run, the Stark House proves to be the most endurable of all Houses, truly.

- I plan to return what is yours. - Do not come near her so often. – You are going to order me around? – I am your King – shadow in between us which is tarnishing what a human being, makes a good man. The human overall. Not just the title or one’s ability.
- You are nothing but my Wolf I am not forbidden, but unable to kill off! And now, get out of my hidden place, this is my private stock of libraries which I kept concealed for so long from your likes!

- I don’t care about your books or your secrets, Lannister. What I do care is that my daughter is with a stranger. For you are not so adept when you are so easy to be found and this hideaway of yours is not so much secret when I could just follow your scent, Lion.

- Wolf, you are overstepping your bounds here. You are not a better man!

- Give me my Arya back! You all, f*ck off my children once and for all, lions! Win me by being one! Best me by becoming what she becomes all by herself!

Tywin got him where he wanted him.

Oh, how really with ease he can take one of the slow minds over the edge, for the temper of such is of mad dogs!

- I believe, when the real father of Jon Snow knocks on your door, is this what you are going to tell him likewise? – that was it, Lannister drew his golden sword out, Arya wasn’t sure what is going on, neither what they talked about, the only thing she knew was that the Great Ice was drawn too, the sounds are unmistakable, never to forget her first time of hearing it, the same way that her brother Robb wields it now, and Tywin pushed Arya from the path of two beasts in order to shelter her innocence while Ned shouts rigorously, like never before he did.

- Watch, Arya, watch! I want you to see how we treat the malevolence, for not even the treason is that high like the evil mind! If you look away. I WILL KNOW!

- Hm, a strange way you are teaching your children, Stark.

- I said, f*ck off, they are all mine! I am going to send Wall upon anyone if they only dare to think of it!

- You hear this Arya?! Because your loved Sire doesn’t listen to himself! You might even learn something useful, in here if not from him, although miracles do happen, it seems your father has got the brains. He even knows to think for self! Forgive me, Ned, I am such a poor subject of yours, I thought you are just an idiot, now I know you have it, and you have in mind to pass it on Jon!

- You f*cking, selfish, self righteous, entitled moron who takes more right than he deserved. My father, I, we all together, gave you and your family, everything! The North and our people took you as our own!

- And yet, all what we will stay is the label of outsiders, the tags as we are dogs too, even though we worked so hard and gave in turn equally, if not even more!

- You are talking bullsh*t! That is nonsense! Highlanders adore your children, especially your golden boy! There is the praise and respect from everywhere I go, You are Northmen! No one questions it! No, you want Throne! You are a vile man! It is never enough for you!

- That might be true, in the end, most likely I am just through with your hypocritical morality! Tired that we everyone must be under your boot! – Well, someone has just eaten one of my boots when we are at it!

- Again, who this time?! – well, Arya expects the conflict of all affairs and they are at…her father’s boots?! The f*ck?!

- I don’t know. I believe it is Nymeria.

- No! Dad! My Nymeria is a proper girl! She never eats…the whole boot, just the part where the heel is!

- And how do you think for me to walk without the back parts of my boots?! – Ned, are we going to stand just here and threaten to each other or continue with the killing scene?

- Wait, I lost my mood. – Damn, me too! – Hey! You guys won’t get at each other’s throats?! It was getting so much fun!

- Ah, my girl. – No, I made her! – Oh, for God’s sake, Stark! – You are using the woman’s fashions. Tywin. - I might even one day poison you with the things how they look and going forwards. – Just as I thought. – You may never even know. – Like that could kill me, anyway!

- I knew it! You are poisonproof too! – Lord Lannister, that word doesn’t even exist!

- It does now! If I said it is poisonproof, that this is the new word you learned today!

- You will get your chance, Tywin, to become the well - established writer!

- I doubt so! Because you will appear as the ghostwriter out of nowhere! This is what you do, the whole time!

- Oh, save me from this obnoxious fool! – both swords are back at their finest leathered covers, for the leather sheaths are becoming more expensive by each day that pass.

- And so, where are we from here, Ned? – the King sighs with a depth in the air.

- Well, lions are always sold well to the Targaryens. – You crappy moron! – You are the one who is always voicing that there is the price for freedom! I am just indulging you! I don’t know what to do anymore and I need your money!

- You are so shallow! For new boots?! What pair is this time?! Which will be the next?!

- My Nymeria won’t pay! – She is broke like you, let adults speak! Do not interfere! And not for the boots! I can buy fine ones myself.

- Dad, you ruined fun, for this was getting so good! – Ah, you see what you have done with your Lannister teaching?! She even repeats it, sounds disappointed!

- Like father like daughter would be preferable, because prevails the leverage of HAVING. – Well, among all other things – now he sounds as a sage. – I was wrong about you. You might even grow smarter, or better to say, you are shrewder than you look!

- I need it for the new establishment, for your grandchildren will be born as the first Lannisters in the North! – Oh – here the golden, senior lion, steps back – as for the foundations of the newly newborns? – YES!

Lord Tywin is won over. With a sigh, deep as the deepness of the sea. Ned did it again, he is always one step ahead, be he dead or alive, his shadow is the one that is haunting the High Halls of the Lions.

Arya, perchance, didn’t witness anything nearly as this anymore in her life, because, you can have brawls and duels as much as you like every day, this is what she taught from all teachings, lessons and wisdom of Tywin, the hard way, next to all other things and amidst the bravest, but seeing how in fact, people grow to be better, because they strive to better themselves, that grows out of the situation, it won’t slow down the bad blood, but it did for the next generation, assuage the conditions in which they harmoniously succeeded to live in altogether.

She is back to the reality she was thrown in and enfolded by destiny…for what is taken, rarely is returned back by those who are alien to humanoids or it is the other way around? Looking up, forgetting just for a moment that she was drenched in her own filthy blood, but never for whom she was responsible. Baratheon. These Dark Elves, seemed far differently than the rest of their kin. How is it possible, that someone is residing just next to the Wall borders and not to be ever even by any sign, discovered or that no trail is left behind them, and by that, she meant, not even a sniff?! Hm, unless...
*
Little alien of ours, had grown up, offer and give all of yourselves to the Void where there is no Life such as it is the alien but known serenity of truths. Deep SPACE of the deepest TIME.

In the darkest hour…what do you want? You. Will you let me go? Never. Once you bend the knee, we are yours. We are not going to eat you, just drink from your Fountain. Come closer...

Do not fear the inevitable. We cry the tears of great sadness for even greater God Wombs of Matriarchs.

Chapter 6: King’s daughter

Chapter Text

Once more, our homes to be imbued in the children’s laugh and by the baby’s cries. As the overshadowing abnormalities which are outshining life itself. Is there a moment when she thought to herself, telling that there is a reason why all the galaxies may be torn down. Is there love or the run from it. For she was the unnatural mother and forced wife. Nothing of which she desired, gained. Why God was so cruel? Everything what was to be Sansa’s was hers and yet, the more she deemed about it, the more it was confounding to her. Not in this way. Like she was taking both light and happiness from Sansa’s, her birth sister’s, eye. However, not is all as it seems, because while humans make plans, God from above laughs and we become thorn birds which are impaling themselves for the first and last time, singing the most beautiful song ever to be heard and God smiles for the world is finally enshrouded in the Blessed Light of the Spinning Wheel of Time and Space. So, she did, everything she could, under the pressures, feeling Renly’s Life.

- Don’t hurt us, we just want to carry on with our road, do not hinder us. – Why would we do that? Allow? – Really? What are you? So, strange that you were never discovered by any factions before. – We are of the Night, we were always the people of stars, it is our daytime, while yours is the Sun. You are the children of Dawn, we are of the pure starlight. – Many of your kind, wouldn’t say that is all truth. – It should be, but they forgot the ways. We are not some new race, nor we evolved on our own, we are not the separated Life, nor we are the extensions of our kin, we are just the expanded life force of the same cell. The one who respects the old ways just as you are, and it is why we cannot let you pass.

She gulps down. Tightening her hold she had on his sturdy body. For a man who was more a decorated woman, Renly had the body mass of the man, hearing the words from another side of the plane of existence. It was like the watery shadows are playing their game and she hears Lord Tywin Lannister, the Old Lion how he is uttering to her. Now, it is our chance. Going into the blazing Sun and let us move the worlds we our wits, Arya Stark, for there is yet to be seen, our story is not over, it is going to last. She called for him, invoking his name, summoning, just as he predicted she would, and the Womb with the human mind, responded, healing completely after which the shimmering, stupendous and cosmically boundless, the massive vastness that lake provides has got shaken to the core and like all the star planets and planetary space times were foretelling the story of the two people of Ice and Fire. Who felt each other’s breath, without jealousy over another’s fate, so close and yet, so very far away, always together. Just being happy they are next to one another, living and loving. A powerful man who would do anything for the equally unprecedented woman he loves and the other way around, just two persons who could be a husband and wife even if they were of the same gender.

Why? For their souls are kindred, the real soul mates that are rarely found in the this living world and in spite of everything, they stayed side by side with all the pain, sharing the unspoken love, everything. Tywin was sending this story to her about his son and her who was all the Ice and while he is the Fire, it was their song, and if she doesn’t succeed to save Baratheon, they may never exist evermore. It is all up to her now. Down to you, Arya Stark. I put all my faith in your hands. You buy time for self, I will for you! Let them all see, who are Lannisters yet, disrupting even Ben and Baelor with all of their companions and family, for it is one and the same. One reckons, what is he seeing, another can’t fathom it, just for a second, but like it lasted for eternally. The Mother Nature is indeed the most powerful Force of God, the one that gives birth even to ERU. Making room for the way out for a cosmic Womb, flooding temporarily nearby seashores and verdant dams of shells that are encompassing shimmers of the enchanted lake’s vastness. Womb dives out, comes forth, heading toward the shiniest sunshine evermore, here he comes, shadowing the Sun just for that one necessary second which Arya took as her turn, the cue from her lion.

- See!? If you halt me, I may never see my light again, and you Dark Elves, are going to become uncovered, your lives as you knew, desolated so.

Just as he taught her, not even a tremor could be discerned in her voice and they let them go just like a dream. Even in that state of severe exhaustion, she was running from Dark Elves, far and distantly, until not a glimmer of theirs is seen anymore, and the twinkling Womb has submerged once again to dwell into the disguised lake depths. Ben deduced for what it is, just as he not predicted but suspected, continuing their battle of Gods, while Baelor is now more than ever sure, it is confirmed, the Womb is ultimately compromised and there is nothing he can do, whatsoever, he must learn how to live with it, learning himself to accept and adapt, for there are no remakes and adjustments to be remade.

This is joined, Lannister and Baratheon’s victory. As long as Targaryens exist, despite for how long they were around, this never happened, yet, the essence of human will is unbroken and is to be left unbound just the way it ever was deemed. The sunlight has returned, as well as everything else to its place, like nothing has ever taken place, just a fable of Starborn and Thrones. Arya Stark continued, dragging Baratheon in tow, paying no heed to her own pain, circ*mstances and the dirty blood, the bad one that was leaking in waterfalls. Windless she was. But she must, she is so close to get to Robb’s side. Please, God. Please! Give me strength! The stag must survive. She fell down, dirtied in the muck and grimy mud. The man’s weight is twice the size of woman’s and his heaviness is something that a woman alone can’t ever fathom to lift up, not by herself, exactly, this is all of which her mother warned her so. Can’t move, can’t get up, nothing! Her desperation was getting nigh and she screamed and screamed, relieving every travail she has ever experienced and let it out, just let it go.
MOVE! GET UP! Her shaded tears are overthrowing everything that was humanly possible, just the human and her unshaken Will to live! Unbreakable she was!

- Damnable woman’s body! Now or never! Stand up as it is your last thing you are ever going to do with your life! – bawling, crying out, calling out for the justice, because Baratheon’s body is smothering her and nevertheless, what prompted her to go further, faster and higher was the quicksand, made out of nature’s filth and dirtiness that is thrown out, remaining all behind, like it was left and meant to be, she was quicker and much more intelligent.

This is what had her beat her own ill destiny. Emerging healthier, with no menstruation to bother her, except for the filthiness she was engulfed in, she marched forward, feeling that all of her strength is betraying her but the unbent will to survive never fails her.

She as the Proud Princess of the Great North, trudged high and mightily, without turning back and no hesitation, shifting just a little, the Deer King’s full weight upon her mighty shoulders, she moved on. There was no surrender, no giving up, doesn’t even know what is the meaning of it, if someone asked her there and now, the answer was, I was never taught to cave in! For I am Arya Stark! The more Life threw at her, all the challenges and beyond belief endeavors, the more she drew power from her own daring spirit, growing stronger each time, making her strong, gaining the experiences, having the guts and balls of the real man, yet, never possessing her own.

Beyond someone’s wildest dreams she was walking, under the dark of the snowing night, through the heavy snow and numerous distant miles, just with her spite and northerly creed to light her way, nothing else, finally at the verge of the northern borders, with the first wake of a new morn, for the real, not imagined in her mind to keep her going, the dayspring was coming, therefore, with its heralding arrival, she is faltering.

She has to save Renly. He is who matters, not her, just him to save, please God! Dad! Please! So close and so…so far she is! Yielding, there was no hope she can recover after this, the flesh is to be cured, but, broken pride of Arya Stark never. She let down everyone!

- Hold on! – no, you didn’t betray your promise you have given to him, you earned all of his esteem, the regards had no bounds, you kept your word to the end, Lady Arya, for as little might be thought, the Miracle occurred, for the luck always follows the bravest.

Mysterious are the ways of God, you might never believe his, but he believes yours and lays all what he has got to own on just the right person at the right time, in the right place.
Tywin might be wrong about lots of other things, but never about you. Nymeria! Finally got reunited with her Lady Stark and Arya completely breaks into her furry, rich coat, letting her take it all out of herself, while the Deer King is placed upon her ready back, how did she drag…all the way, the fullness of man’s weight when totally he was unconscious, which means that the pressure was doubled!

And heedless of her own health, might and possibility, she still…hauled him with no complaint? With just the Willpower of hers?! So proud, oh, Arya, if only your father was here to see, but he did. Oh, he did. His little girl. Tywin was right about only one truth, she grew to be the mightiest of Starks. What a force was in her Lady of Starks, Nymeria expresses! What a woman! Hopping after him on her plushy cotton, like the dreamy velvety of all dreams, she is safe and let her be taken away while her brothers and their fur companions without words joined in, share quiet understanding.

In between, let some words stay untold whiles they are avoiding all the extra dangers, and the swooshing toxic darts from all sides which were sweeping around the blackened nooks of the forbidden forests, lonely paths of the Black Woods which are the most forlorn and forsaken, for you never know what is inhabiting and living in there. Let it stay undiscovered for everyone’s good. Arya hears them, she smiles in her sleepy half-dream and she also distinguished the swelling above their heads, prideful, blooming full of brimming the thrilled joyfulness, never again she is to think lowly of anyone else. Feanor’s Eagles were keeping up to Final Frontiers where Ben is battling alone to all of his ends, the Battle of his lifetime. We come, hang in there!

Uncle Ben! We sent Great Eagles, brought God’s help, from Heavens, Grace. You are all alone now, never to be again! We are going to the new Wake for everyone! For you were never alone, not ever! This was the Pact, the contract and the covenant of yore and old. Forgotten and ancient we are, but still unknown and unbelievable we stay in these olden days, when Gods in animals were amongst us. Walking in the mid of losing hope that sails ahead.
Hence she is coming back with them, going straightly to Robb Stark’s direction. Thus ending her game, her share and part of the game was complete so.

Our unsung, forgiven and quiet triumph, both downright and quite the win. For many things stay unexplained, some even don’t want to know, knowing that some truths are better when they are left to be lone. Not lonesome like in the songs, but remaining just the way they are, no touch on sold. Even when all is said, we do not understand, not all is lost, under the ruddy daybreaks. They are flying beneath the dreamless chimes. Feeling gratified.

There is no tomorrow, this was freedom, after such a long time, they are going home. Run even hastier, finally, they are returning to their hearth’s stone.
Stark’s fireplace, feel Northward wind in your hair, sun beams on your fairy visage. On our side is the favor. At yours are graces. Feel free to feel relief.
The grandest, and strongest of all Starks, was her name, call her out, for it was her. Proving over and over again, Arya Stark was a true heir to her King!
This is what I have to give it to you and admit, you are the greatest. There was nothing to prove even so Robb fought till the dawn, keeping a last stand.
Like a Stark, as a Wolf, for he is Northman, chivalrously! This is how it feels when the whole night was due, he never gave in with his Northmen, never.

Chapter 7: Starks and Targaryens, in between…Eagles

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The Waking hour. For many destinies are in your blood. We can’t fight it off, just acknowledge, receive as the gift. Ben Stark was in no way a match one on one as was his brother, but there is something in him that made him do it. Believe in himself and the greatsword Fire has fallen upon the Valyrian Steel as it was the heaviest and the most destructive sword ever to this day that was made. The sparks of the shiniest was the glowing spherical spectacle and the more he was pushing, the more Baelor was actually regaining his potency, for this is what he does, he sucks from others the necessary lifeblood. While Kaida was being almost crushed by Kara’s fangs, he used the same stolen golden power and channeled it through his Dragon who fought back while his Sons against the Original Pack were holding their lines strongly, perhaps, all other magic of theirs was now diminished and what remaining is the bare power, but that had him start to taunt Ben Stark more profoundly, than he did before, feeling his exhaustion!

- I am a good Targaryen, you know? I would never hurt your niece, or any of your family, and are you aware these are her sons?! She is their mother! In fact?! Hm, Ben, or better to call you by the real name? The Wall, isn’t it? How is the feel of having the flesh and blood? – You are the black water of which I was told and everyone is speaking. Are you not the one who contributed together with your twin brother for creation of the dark well that now inhabits Dragonstone and from which you garner all kinds of information?

- That is right, I am not of Olds, but I am one of the oldest souls which is now residing in this body, finding in here the perfect resting inhabitation. – Just in the way you have done with us, with our Arda. Now, you are going to say, such is the life, which means, so must be or in the same way, in such deeming and potentially sucking manners you are now collecting, stealing from me!

- We only take what is necessary for our survival, it is our Mother too, we are her children as well, we earned the right to live, don’t you think, it is the same with you humans!? You judge fast and unfair.

- We at least do not use other humanoids!

- Ah, here we are, you don’t? Not even amidst your own kind? You may deceive me, but I am forever going to stay good to you humans and your niece, when of course, I get your head on my pike to strut you around if you do not bend to me after I claim my wife back! – Ben grins at him.

- She is no one’s, you idiot! For someone who thinks he owns the breath we breathe, you are the self – proclaimed Queen of Drama! Or it is Drama Empress?! I can’t figure it out! – got Baelor angry beyond understanding and in one swift move, finishing it all by throwing Ben Stark back onto the bareness of the darkening soils, one steely boot is pressed upon Ben’s muscled chest while Valyrian sword is against his open throat.

- Yield! Stark! If you deem that your Kara is going to defeat my Kaida, you are wrong. I know all about your direwolf mysteries, and unlike my impulsive brother, I made sure that Kaida shares the nucleus of mine who is as the High Priest connected to the Faith of Seven. Thus, it means, my Dragon is re-embodying each of them, for it is not maybe our religion, but it has become our creed we took for selves and upon which we call our evolution and accommodation which wasn’t easy after Old Valyria fell to her ruins, to its own doom because Dark Goddess hates her own children, all the while your Wolf is daringly battling Seven of them all at once, and not even one of her aces will work against her! Not even my little brother would exact such brainpower or cleverness, thinking that all what is sufficient is that you are your own, powerful and independent so that everything else works for you. It may be so, his Dragon is superior in that area against Kaida who only channels what is in front of her, but if you think that is a supreme status, you are wrong about her, because one weak point can be her fall, but for my Dragon, you need a long way to get to her ever, even then, it won’t work!

- I see, you secured your Dragon so well, that she has no weakness on your mind? – Does she?! – Targaryen smiles ugly and all the beauty of the deepness in which the lavender dwells, is replaced by the most bejeweled color of purple which can be witnessed by the mortal eye, ever again, he is now aware why Arya with difficulty fell, but she did, this man was something else, Ben Stark becomes unusually wise and in the great wisdom of his, he shut off the mind completely from the Valyrian Telepath before declaring. – I yield! – this came as the finest surprise to the Targaryen, almost knocking him off his so silvery, pedestal.

Playing now the game that wasn’t expected to be played by the spiteful Stark! Kara spent all of her forces to fight off successfully Kaida’s intensified might, but even that wasn’t enough and isn’t working thus far in submitting the Grand Mother totally! The Original Pack that counts of two sisters and two brothers against the Trio was spending the energy fast, that is why Ben Stark had to use some of his wits if he wants the upturn and turn over tides.

- Yes! Now, what?! – Targaryen blinks. – Well, you had taken me ultimately by every surprise…
- Just remove that steel and pretty boot from my neck, we are even then, isn’t it that right? – Baelor eyes him skeptically. He doesn’t trust this man. – You will allow me to parade you and your Kara through Targaryen streets? – Sure, why not? Even Original Pack may come along, and so, we all get along with all of you! Let us live! Sire.

This ringed bells, for this was the problem, a Targaryen can’t help but be Targaryen. The control is intoxicating him and unknowingly Ben weakens him.

- Then, bend! – in return, Kaida is weakened too, for the sheer intoxication of ruling over another for the Dragon is the true venom, never the other way around, and the more power they attain, the more it becomes absolute, they grow weaker and fall into stagnation that utterly leads to their demise in some other spheres of life and brings down the House of the Dragon by their own utter means.

- No problem, not at all! My Lord, see, I stand up, and my hands are up, right?! Ah, just look what we have done to all this beautiful motherly Nature! We are co cruel to her and she gives all of hers. And me to bend my knee in such the environmental disaster we bestowed on her?! Such a shame! Oh, you know, I can even walk naked, ah, that gleam in your eyes. Just imagine, me, gagged and bound, all bare before you all, just parading me around your House and members, the Valyrian streets of Old, while even being whipped and ridiculed for my submission, only for me to be ennobled later on, you know it, being even rewarded because I know…Dragons reward plentifully! Isn’t it? For the full submission! – it was working, I have got you now, you lowered your guard, full blooded Targaryen. Ben leers, this literally turned him on! Baelor found a very hard to control…his instincts and his manhood reacts…up.

- Oh, whom we have here?! – Dragon Lord puts down his sword, doing by the sheer mightiness of his majesty, majestic splendor and highness, effort to ease throbbing, faintly finding personal tonality, ignoring now the Stark who truthfully bent the knee to him in the middle of nearly lost composure and seeing it, witnessing, the Goddamned Stark just added the oil onto the living burning desire of the inflamed.

He knows to dance skillfully so, playing around with his bulged arousal that still wants more, having him he sweat abundantly, even when Ben Stark keeps up a mask on.

He could just own him there and now, but that means…losing Arya, he imposed on him the choice for which he doesn’t fall for, for it is apparent that his sons and Kaida are now losing in the middle of madness that is stomped upon by none other than this bloody cursed Stark! King’s brother nonetheless. You won’t trample on me, nor tamper with my sanity!

- She always finds a way to heal and recover, the Mother, the Matriarch of us all, her grandness is unmeasured, that is why she is Grand and Great at the same time, you are the one who needs to worry about yourself, Stark, and what is yours to protect. The means to save is upon you now. Because, if you think this is going to work every time on some other Dragons, you are wrong. There are much stronger, far more cunning and worse than me and I am not talking just about my brother. – So, I was right. This is your…greatest weakness, isn’t it?! – It seems so. I just never thought someone is going to exploit it for me! I never practiced neither trained myself, never in fact completed my discipline, I thought it is of the less importance and now it is showing to be crucial, because I can’t fight it. On other matters I focused regarding my priesthood.

- You really can’t help yourself, even if you understand that you are falling in my trap?! – It became the most obvious when you started calling me Lord. I know you play the game, in the perfect way I want to, it is so...alluringly cursed! I should have groomed it better than living in the dreaming states – yet, in the foul second, he composed himself to utterly dismayed disbelief of Benjen Stark, because Valyrian Steel is raised up, intending to behead him HIGH.

He closed his eyes, and at the last moment, Eagles of the Emperor arrived on the scene! The look of shock was the most profound, recognizing the fact that Emperor is really ready of going against his own, battling the closest of his, just to safeguard his precious humans, keeping them all to himself?! Violating Dragonstone struggles, the Heart of Dragon Outposts, the World of House of the Dragon. Resisting the inevitable, struggling hopelessly and opposing selfishly.

So selfish indeed, and no matter how much he fought it, so Targayren. The full of the fullest he can get, so it is futile to wrestle with this, his respective odds. Sweeping away the exhausted Baelor alongside his sons and the Dragon, leaving them alive, no deepening and prolonging the bitter discord and even more annihilating conflict between the two kinds, among the unnumbered High Houses of akin, for the most important was that Eagles granted for the Original Pack to withdraw all the while the wounded Kara who needs to cure herself, urged Ben to return by his astral projection to his carnal flesh, if he died here, he would there too!

And it was coming to an end. Went their separate respectful ways until again Arda invokes the necessity of their involvement. Coming home. However, it is far from over, just the beginning of something new and different, that is yet to be born. We don’t see it, but Gods who fought the impossible with the Mother of all Wolves, very well knew it all along, it was happening right now. It is Robb.
We need to rest, because after…it awaits us all over again. Upholding the possible! Taking away the free will, in company with the freedom along, also.
The tumultuous and rumbling bellows of the resounding snarls, which are accompanied by the evened, wounded howls. An omen, that splendor is over!
The approaching sound of heralding Eagles, we know whose, who sent for whom. In a clinch held, Original Pack suffers no loss, just nearly, fatal sores.
For real, the undying desolation, believe even when there is no reason to believe, now, your moment has arrived at your Doors, to you and just for you. Robb Stark. Show them what you are wrought of, because this opponent will be your cruelest death and divine rebirth. Jon from afar in a lone cell feels.
*
I root for you! Show to the world…everything! It is now upon you. All eyes rest on you. For everyone to see and hear, witness and behold a rise or fall. Whom do we follow, arise legions!
*
Fraternal twins: You bend, you own us, just one your word, you claim us, you deny us, you meet death of us. What love does to one man, maddens another, be it a man or Elf, brings you to either complete destruction or the purest form of creation, whether having it or not. The love that changes all, pushes you beyond, in the time of Free People and the First Men, the Afterborns for they weren’t Elves, when Children of the Forest shaped mere dragonglass from frozen fires of volcanoes, the Spirit of Fire was prophesized that he will have the Promised Daughter because of whom all the changes of even his realm will come true when Azor Ahai with Lightbringer, the Bearer of all Lights shows the true face, the real one of the One who was promised, heedless of the Title. It is the burning blade that merely comes alive when the pure love is sacrificed. Who is he?! Is it Daemon, indeed?! As he foretold? Is he showing up, or perhaps, it was never a man?! It is a woman?! Is it really that relevant?! Azor was awaking.

Why now? Firstborns (all Elves) of Iluvatar sensed his coming…and across the stars, the aligned constellations heralded, the birth of Star Hero.
The greatest, strongest and mightiest, of them all, the only one who wields the power to oppose the Night King of all yore.
For what is the destiny if not something you live?!

Chapter 8: My little slave, my Bolton

Chapter Text

In the meanwhile, the party of two were nesting somewhere else, for Glorfindel has woken up and released his strong grip he had on Bolton, the handprint stayed upon his face from all the abnormal hold, ah, even his jaw and mouth hurt, a little bit were numb, both together joint, it will take some time to relax sore muscles again, thankfully, no permanent damage, that accursed Elf, he surely knows always what he is doing even if it seems he is just fooling around, damn, can he move it? Easy, just for a little adjustment. Yes, he still could, he will be all right. No need to panic. He never was worried this much about his health or of his bodily necessities like now when he is with this…Monster Elf!

No wonder why, next to this guy, you become either superman or paranoid maniac, there is no middle line, where he stands?! However, upon their continuing journey, something strange started to happen, something that made him forget about his conditions, go figure, why wouldn’t he, it is not that hard. In this land, with this goofy Elf and the hidden beast that resides in Blackie, he was the only normal here. Wow, what an evolution of life! Ramsay Bolton finding the sense of his humanity.

The world is doomed, and certainly, very slowly going to its end and periodic rebirth, where Blackie was most of the time stretching and yawning because it wasn’t enough for him, never is, he loves to sleep more than live, for God’s sake. This dog was more a cat than what he is supposed to represent. And just like that, he would here and there, wherever he finds a place or just wouldn’t even mind anymore, he would drop like dead where he stands and sleep, with all four mini paws up. He took care of him so well, no fleas, always clean, well fed and nourished, what the hell was this about?! He is adored and now is going to oversleep the entire quest if he continues as he is fed by drugs.

Maybe the presence of this idiotic Elf is in question? He wouldn’t find it odd, oh, close your mind to him, fool, more than ever he is sensible about his surroundings whenever there is the trouble that is coming their way which they have to avoid and feels from miles. Even now that elven ears of his are moving in the doglike way, that is how he knows that Glorfindel is on guard. Weird. Glor is like the owl that knows and hears anything even if you haven’t even farted yet. Blackie does it again!

- Oh, no! Not again! I must carry you around, all the way until you wake up! Hey, buddy, you are not so light to bear, hey, wake up! And…hey, Glorfindel, where the f*ck have you gone?! – What?! Pick him up and we keep on! – Do not address me like I am your slave once again!? Ah, yes, I know the answer, I never stopped to be one in your eyes!
- YOU READ MINDS?! – this is it, how this biggest idiot of all Elves is able to conquer the world, bring the Winter to the North and represent the reincarnation of God’s Wrath?!

- No, Glor, by your side, I had become smarter. Even the survivalist when you are the one who holds my life in your hands and now, come closer and look, what is it with him?! Is he sick?!

- If he is, treat him then! – I can’t, you moron! We are in the middle of f*cking nowhere! Where to find the remedy, the proper medicine, which herbs, I don’t know anything! – But you love to skin?! – Glor is just messing with him, that was all, Ramsay is getting even the healthiest color in his pale cheeks since he was born. – Glorfindel!

- I don’t hear you! – You are far! Come HERE! – We must go! – again, the game, this man lives on this, no, his entire meaning of life is to play around! And he knows exactly what is this all about. It turns him on.

- Oh, my Lord, Master?! Would you be so kind to come over here and please your mortal sin, I mean, slave? – Oh, why don’t you say so!? You are now also the purpose of my life! – Ramsay rolls his eyes. – You now hear rightly?!

- Never better, I never even had a problem with hearing – that figures and Glor smiles like the bloody sunshine as soon as he gets what he wants from Ramsay, he is all the duty.

- Move slightly, give him some space. Don’t smother him all over with your overthinking and constant worrying. – That is what keeps my existence alive! For so long! Especially being in your golden royal presence, not to mention…you are not the easiest company ever to me!

- Heh, I don’t even try to go easy on you – Glor grins cunningly while checking the little doggy. Ah, he found what was the problem. – You have nothing to worry about.

- Ah, I am relieved! You see, you even receive thank you from me, and do not leer! Still… Perchance, is there all verily right about him? Isn’t there something wrong when he sleeps all the time, just drops dead and that is smart? I do something wrong? I don’t say that is not a good camouflage for other animals, I read about it but… maybe, I may do something, the fresh spring water to find, everywhere you have green wells, from some pond to catch the fish or fetch some plants or give red flesh for him to eat? Some cleansed properties from blossoms? – he could actually see this as a try.

- First of all, I am not letting you out of my sight, never try this ever again on me, because it is dangerous for human, second, if you choose to disobey me or defy by any chance or cross in some way, because with such a style and by these means you are only attracting what you do not desire to evoke the worst out of me, thus inviting your best friend gag and bindings which eagerly await just you, and third, you are not going anywhere. I am not the one who is bound to feed you with hope that you are ever free of me. For you won’t be even when I allow you to die from your mortality! Because you have my permission, until I say differently, only then, do not delude yourself, for it is your pain. And don’t ask how I intend to do that to you even in death and so – from the corner of his elfin irises, he glances back at him – one more such a suggestion or even idea that is born from your mind and you know what it means, yes, HAPPY TIMES FOR me and miserable one to you by my Elf selfie.

Ramsay Bolton drew back, yielding. Whenever this Elf starts to act in this mode around him, he already reads all the signs. Learning very fast with him.

- Very well, save, despite all your efforts to hide your thoughts from me, you can’t your feelings or body language. No running, or the first tree is yours where I am willing to tie you all up for the rest of lovely night. Deal? – what sharp teeth he offers for him to see, what a show off! – Yes, Glorfindel…- biting his own tongue, controlling not to blurt out something he shouldn’t for which he is to pay or very much regret later, because you are never sure with this man, for he was still a man, just another kind, but to himself, he was fairly clear.

- Then, Glorfindel, what?! I love that song from your mouth when it is sung! – Lord Glorfindel – no hesitation, good, no whip, yet, something is missing. – What, louder? You are not pleased?! – The way you said it, clearly. Add to it more, not just My Lord or Master, trust me, you will need it in the near future and the voyage is longer than you wonder, now, submit – with this, Bolton can’t live even though he had to cope or no normal life for him anymore, not even a momentum, all this Glor is able to gift, manipulate or take away from him so easily. What a beast in such the refining and shining fashion.

So, Ramsay does just that, he is on his knees as Glor taught him while the Elf is never in fact leaving him alone, losing sight of him, closely kept an eye on him, within reach and without any real independence.

Always on alert when this particular human is in question and he loves it uncontrollably, what this human being is delivering to him, having it no other way, he is just giving him the crumbs of the true self he doesn’t wish to own, just like freedom.

- Well done, that will do, was it that hard? – No…Master. – You see, good boy! – Glorfindel pats Ramsay like he is a puppy. – Oh, probably you are going to grow some ears and little tails! From then, I am going to bathe you, love you much more and nurture your every need! – God, no! Just not that! – Glorfindel burst out laughing, Ramsay is annoyed and Blackie still sleeps like dead! – What is wrong with him?! Glorfindel?! Answer already! – Ah, just tired of life! That is why there is no need for anything, neither me to do or you. It is just his personal immune system, and it works like this. You just can’t have such a power within you to live, and not having the moments of respite, collecting the energy!

What?! It just means he is condemned to carry him nevertheless?! And what if he does this to him whenever there is a real battle?! His shield falls and a golden Elf with no trouble enters his mind to nest nicely farther in there. Don’t worry. When a duty calls and your life is endangered, he is never to let you down. Even so, it doesn’t mean he won’t fall asleep as soon as all is over! Ah, I am more worried about him. I love him. I can’t lose him, never in my life, I…except Sansa, felt for someone else. So deep, I don’t include my Old Man, it is implied, but for everyone else, even for Jon I had to learn to have some emotion, but this…is my very first wish. Good, Ramsay, there is still some hope in you left. I might even teach you to be a real boy, one day!

A turned over being starts deep snores albeit another Stark f*cks him up! He knows, Osha told him, almost all in their own ways, except Jon and Sansa.

For Glorfindel loves to play with facts, the better question is who doesn’t? It isn’t like he wasn’t having the similar conversation before with Bolton, he just decides not to pay attention, ignore factual fortune that has befallen him and with which he had to put up with as long as there is a slight possibility that someday what he dreams, even when it isn’t probable, is to be well received, never needs to be regarded as theirs, merely admitted into the society.
*
The pure Pinocchio in between, rejoice, taught by you, learned from him. Furthering, deepening the bond they shared. As the Master and a good friend. Silent tears, whereas heart breaks, everything burns within, from grief. Shadows fell between us, for her, their children…
The land still quivers from their mountainous steps, the highgardens are no more, weed is left.
My Lady…My Lord is gone. Great Houses of yore, are noble and ancient, because of Bloods!

Men feel deep, Elves deeper, but of all kinds, Targaryens, perfected madness in their Blood…
Painted by Fire.

Chapter 9: You don’t get to choose. Well, I choose! Integrate into the World that sees you!

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The intelligent design is all over the fallen, demonic and angelic, both Godswoods and the Ent forests. For ten thousand years, Feanor designed and in the First Age, his best friend and the only ordained rival was Stark of Gondolin with his seven thousand years. And in all those eons and crying out for Blood and Fire, where a war cry is silenced by the cries of lost battlefields. Never even once, Feanor nor Glor, regretted if they lose their lives for good.

And therefore, the North’s winds blew far away, they are rising. It is felt in every pore, every leaf, onto every branch. Just for a little bit, the change is charging ahead of its time! Forgotten are those faraway lands which existed in the forbidden realms. Did they forsake for what they feel remorse? That is why Elves forgive harm done on them, if they ever wish to be forgiven. Turgon’s potion is still regularly spread and distributed as long as there is the need for it, for not all are ready to follow up the old practices which are brought back from the oblivion. For there is the stark difference.

The Potion is duly given until the full circle is completed or there is that traditional way where it is unlikely to die sooner, but still die much later, rigorously painful for you must perish anyway to live again. A great deal of them refrain, for many Elves still are challenged and bothered by various thoughts even though it doesn’t seem this way at first hand. Together they decided the return to their old practices, in such a way symbolizing their newly founded ascent until the ways of mortality hasn’t reached its peak, to be safe for mental health. To revive the Dead once again at the end of all days. So, respect is here, until they choose the time was ripe.

Challenging times were living where are those who are naturally sensitive with a capability to shield mind of their own volition, unlike the self-taught like Sansa, who improvised for long hours or being just a tad learned, guided or showed by those who are her keepers. Entering through subspace was her salvation, one way of the meditation that can be entered by any approach as long as it is there to meet your needs. For only mortals can bring down the immortality, for the immortal ones, in spite of all power, are the ones who are in the end consumed by their own arrogance and nobility. Through which spellbound and charmed wells the noble blood of the common will flow!? It is yet to be promised as well. In all the warlike worlds, the two men found their new hideout, inhabited it, in order to restore strength, take a rest and fill their energy both needed so!

- Oh, come to me! I made even the nice cuddling spot for the two of us! – I am not coming near you even if I am about to die right now! – Don’t be like that! Come! You really think that you are able to resist me!?
- You thought that far if you believe that I am going to fall for the same trick over and all over just because he is asleep! – You very well know that I have no intention to take advantage of you. – That is never the reason why I am afraid of you! – But you got for the same reason very concerned if he doesn’t wake…on time. – He will! You said so, that is why I even asked!

- Oh, Bolton, I am everything you have ever imagined in someone to find, and you are the one I have dreamed to become one with, together with all my chosen life mates, is it not? And still, you are forever obsessed with only your own, mere butt – Glorfindel is licking as he is already pleasuring, immersing himself in the delight, what the hypocritical sunlight he is!

- You touch people for far more often than you should! – It is why we are imparted with these little tools we call fingers. So, do not invoke the doom on yourself and just come, relax next to the cozy, little fire, let my elvish warmth add to your coziness whilst this lovely atmosphere fulfill even your little dreamy one who is perfectly snugged as well! – You really are something, you just do not refrain from anything as long as you claim whatever you laid your eyes of gold, upon! You are too nice for your own good. I do not come anywhere closer to you, I already said that! – Ah, adorable. I rape people for less. But to you, I promise I am going to be a good Elf! Even a better man, do not worry! For look at this beauty of mine! How can you really miss it?! Let me ravish you!

- I am ignoring your sinful mouth, especially those shamed lips! – Ah, so you are falling! – Got off me! How can you get so annoying when you are not gaining what you want at first sight?! Especially if you are that beautiful – Bolton betrayed himself, f*ck! Flushed and with no words, he glimpsed at the very pleased and leering Elf whose charm was getting the better of him.

- What are you grinning at, so lustfully?! Don’t you have some smarter business to attend than to impale myself on your virile manhood?! Why are you so obsessed with claiming my delight?! And really, I just thought loudly, how can one man be so attractive, that is all. I am a man too, but it doesn’t mean I have no eyes! And why me out of all?! Oh, no, I do not harbor any desire to be even by that enlightened! – I see through you and all your willingness. I am just putting you in your place which was always yours, never to escape me. Which means… - Your alluring words or tempting voice, the way you are doing things, how you speak and by what means you utilize, how far you are so eager to go just to tempt me into your elfin grasp. What you are trying now is called, stealing your chances!

- And…do I succeed?! – Glorfindel pushed, Ramsay denies.
- NO! I love Sansa and I am not to let you be my downfall and… - it was a mistake to turn around. Glorfindel started stripping himself and with every piece of the clothing is gone, Ramsay Bolton is presented with his damnation. Why God?! Why do you tease me so?! Glorfindel’s wrought body was the sight not to be missed, truthfully. It is a turning point.

The very stepping stone that announced it was his turn indeed, for the dance of the Elf has become, and the rosy shadows are painting the most sensual desire that is going to give birth between the manly loins of another Stark within all his glory and glorified praise. This was the longing that is depicting how the elven rose skin is reacting to the cursing allure, for this was the temptation from the Hell. Closing his eyes, won’t save him nor protect, neither or anyhow aid his cause. Glorfindel is coming closer, daringly. As always. One thing is on his mind, preoccupying his wits. His Sansa, oh, that yearning for you, to truly become the truth, our reality, for me to be worthy of your sacrifice, your House, to share the household. I can be a better man, I can get to that coastline. I am coming to be everything what your father ever wanted in a man for you. I am just a human who loves you so. I will never forget you. Even if I fall, for it shall not be my fate that lies with you. I am going to suffer for your chastity, coming back to you, to return you home, my lady.

- Imagining it is her, won’t salvage you from me, open your nice eyes, Bolton. I want to mate you. I am not offering myself with ease unless if I am planning to shower you as well with my gifts. For that reason, it is useless to continue your vain resistance. Just stop resisting me and you are going to meet the true bliss, not the violation you are trained to become accustomed to, relax, lean on me – Ramsay slowly found himself to the front of the bewitching visage.

The gold curls were the black golden waterfalls of the bejeweled purity, casting the shadow on every possible reason why would he be a fool to refuse this God given gift. Right?! Because, his determination can’t be lightly diminished. Even so, he has a hard time, so.

Glances up at him, with the sole prayer, for the fallen tears are not to be ushered into silence, these are the quiet ones and he pleaded the golden beauty.

- Please, don’t do this to me.

- You have done much worse. I am your repentance.

- I want her, not you. – You are whoring yourself to me, since the moment you bend the knee.

- Not in this way, not like this – the magical warmness is unethical. The unhealthy enchantment over him is doing wonders. The art of seduction is strong in Glorfindel. Doing only a shimmer of possibility, of what he is able to do. Luring him to fall, because his resolve is not anywhere firm, nor so powerful as he deems it is. This was the crafty charm that is designated to mark the unbelieving artwork of artful God. Suddenly, he remembers how she danced at the open glade which is sheltering the eaves of the verdant dells. – Stark, no – to what lengths manly beauty goes?

This surprised even Glorfindel of the Golden Flower. He backed down. That resolution in Bolton’s eyes was something he has never experienced ever from any human and he owned tens of thousands of them to bend. Millions upon millions he overtook. Not even a single one was so determined to keep his word. As little might be thought, Glorfindel that day learned that he can conquer and occupy everything his big black heart desires, but he isn’t able to master ways of how a human heart works. Ramsay Bolton found the true love through Sansa Stark and there is no way he is going to let down, first himself and then her, and afterward, everyone else. What is left is for Glorfindel to lie down without sleep smiling to himself. Yes, he is a real boy.

Catching someone’s eye could come to be the most prosperous affinity or the doom that is looming over you. For the Elves do not sleep, only awake they dream unlike their kindred Targaryens who prefer to sleep at least a wink, for many elven Dragons or hybrids (half) are inclined to do just that, because they are needing the needful sleep albeit in Jon Snow, everything is summed, so he sleeps as a human, but dreams as a Dragon. During which, somewhere in the alien battleground, the war is still far from over, it is going on. One single, little dove is gliding over the desolated dreams of fell ones. Dragon Queen feels stiring in magic. Numbers after numbers, there is nothing more delightful than to rape equals. You are not living in another’s shadow, ever again, you are your own man! Even the smallest particle may preserve in the face of the most tremendous, growing menace. And it doesn’t yield, never knows how, it wins all of ours.

Human heart is not for sale, and out of everyone, who became humans unknown, Jon Snow or to some very much clear, Daemon Targaryen, there is yet another who is not aware that he is becoming his father’s son. In the future, whatever he chooses, he remains Elf with the heart that beats just as human. Grew to become one of us, ones who do not fall! Look after you as long as mortal eyes may reach. My Lady of Heart, never to be apart. You took my struggling heart, made of struggles. Had me admit that you are my support, but I am walking this path alone. Submit to no one, undergo all pain for me. We shall be free to wander. White winds again blow from the North. *Once you are free from hate, become a good man, you are weak to One Ring.
I hear you, I will be back, I will wait for you until then. Once you give your vow, when you enter, and behind you a heavy door is closed, there is no more a way out, save to bear the rest.

Chapter 10: The Great, we seek

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My baby brother, Jon Snow. I know you claimed your birthright, your birth name, Stark, and yet, you are fine to be Snow, holding the armor that can’t ever be breached, so am I, doing the same, right now. He sensed that Arya used the silver dagger which is embedded he thinks with the emerald gem, but it changes the colors as it is always altering the shape. It was magical, he knows that, knew everything about the veiled art of his, and thank God, she didn’t lose it, but used it wisely, for even if it happens, any loss, it finds a way to her, in any way, regardless of the circ*mstance she is in, for Jon puts, whenever or whatever he makes, all of his good will and inspiring intention into everything he forges, so you are never suffering a fate as a spoil of war.

- Sire! We are not managing, they are breaching our defenses! – Hold the lines and on my mark, start throwing the powder! – Yes, our Lord! Lads! You heard the Young Wolf! Lo! Hold the grounds! – the mutated Targaryens attacked and assaulted, pushed to the brink the Northmen who in some miraculous way found their courage which they drew from their fearless leader. Another Wolf Lord! – Stay, stay! Let them keep coming, let them, stay, stay! – the more Targaryens were forcing, the more they were falling into a trap, which Daemon couldn’t read, the mind shields of the Northmen are impenetrable. For they had another reserves left of powder that doesn’t run out so easily and its properties don’t expire quickly, but Daemon doesn’t need to know it, he already saw this new invention of theirs, came to comprehend it and it is very sure he deems how this is it, all of what they have got to offer him or throw at him.

Though, he is verily mistaken when he sees for himself that they started again to destroy his spellbound creations of living art! Damn them! So far, this was very surprising to see, how they invented by their own means the weapons of massive destruction that only imitates, can’t ever come near the real Dragon fire, yet, it inflicts not only efficient damage, but also for sure has other assets up their sleeves, like smoke and embers which are disabling other Dragons to reach them with ease, they are having them work for it! What an ingenious contrivance indeed that harms, although it is not proving to be sufficiently deadly to Dragons who heal fasters in battles, therefore the harm is lessened by each combat, which is having them grow more powerful than before. Alas, the 9 young dragons anew rushed violently at Caraxes when they replenished themselves and who are now held under his control by the power of his captivating eyes, they couldn’t even move! What the?! So, this dragon was much more different from the rest of his kind, did Daemon do something to him, trained him in a distinct way, or every dragon just proves the theory that it is the creature of great magic and leverage for itself. f*ck this all, and yet, without his 9, it is most likely there is no chance just like his men predicted, however, God didn’t send them or he didn’t become theirs, just for all to go in vain, or this was merely the given chance, at least?!

Never mind, for he can’t believe what he is feeling, thinking and saying, since when he is warming for any Dragon, still, seeing their mutual struggles for their only human who hatched them, is certainly growing to be is such a rare miracle, all the 9 only wanted to help him, to be of use because of which they might lose their cherished lives, so that even Daemon respected their creed without killing senselessly, just mastering their immortal rage, for now. While he orders another round of the fiery onslaught to weaken as much as possible the Northmen so he could get to Robb Stark. Even so, not all is as it seems, and Robb Stark did it again, he is ordering something else! – Align your horses, against each other! Your other companions, let them stay forward! Form the formation of the dragon! – the look on Daemon’s face was all what he yearned to see and live for. Yes. Now watch. It is simply a lure.

After this brilliant formation was in the mid of the tempestuous battle formed, Robb Stark is aware there is no more powder upon which he can’t rely too much as yet on his own set of little hatchlings, who were no match for a far more ancient, bigger and stronger beast, except, there is one thing that Targaryens never paid much attention on, for they assess he is going to use the poisonous lances which any enough adept Dragon can avoid or propel anything on their paths which they can also handle, because Robb is only at disposal with what is humanly possible. No power, no more secret weapons or any of the sort, now it was the Man versus the Impossible.

For he knows, it is just a matter of time, when they are going to feel Caraxes power of the Dragon fire jointly with these mutations of real life, that can strip you of any dignity, burn to the ground all what you hold dear and tear down the Life from itself. He held that notion in his mind so fiercely and without ceasing, unwavering he was in his resolve to win Daemon Targaryen. Many people would say that he is mad, and idiot, well, he was, that is all what he can say about self. But the Luck follows the Madmen, the Bravest, and so he relied on God. Simply as that. God is with him. He harbored such faith in Eru, that if this is the day he dies, yes, let it be today in his own way, for he wants that his both men and women go down into history of all annals. Here is no fear. He is finally free to do as he wishes. I know Jon Snow…like everyone else, you sense my distress, disturbances in the magic are a great deal and you know with whom I am fighting. Now, watch me, little brother! What you predicted for me, it will be. I intend to win at all costs. He loses the last shred of his sanity and he starts to sing the prayer of all North highlanders now.

- LO! There, I do see my Father! – no doubt, he invigorated his people, inflamed a spark in Northmen for which they were acting like the whole North with just a handful of remaining warrior folk, Stark is showing his indomitable will and the powerful strength of character which Daemon had to give it to him. Highlanders sang together. – LO! We do see our mothers and sisters! – this is for you Sansa, forgive me. I am about to die.

Sansa Stark, like it was the thunderbolt through her heart, grasped her blooming breasts, Robb. You just played your part, kept your vow to our dad, that if he can’t do it, you must be the one who will finish what he started, who will continue what he didn’t complete, that dirty, ugly and hard duty you never asked for, because of what, you became the villain. It has befallen you, upon your soul. There is nothing to forgive, but I forgive you. You are paying by how you implored from God, no one to touch your family, only you to suffer with resting all of the excruciating torment on oneself. The lightning ripped through whitening clouds, cold falls shower harshly, just please, don’t perish with the rest of our forces, we need you, brother. Loses it.

- And my brothers! – every heart is beating for the North and Wall as one. – LO, there I do see the line of my people – louder, a lot more harrowing, and mightier they are heard – back to the beginning! Lo, they do call to me! To do what no one does, we will dare! They bid me take my place among them in the halls of Valhalla! Where the brave may live forever! – having nothing more to lose, grow to be free men. Northmen.

Cold shivers are running down. Caraxes showed off how pretty he was, with the spreading wings. It was coming with the deep bellow. All of it arrives.

- I truly admire your hopelessness against me Robb Stark, but you are just a little human Lord and I am the Fire that will make you burn so gladly.

It began. The joined fire of his dragon, mutants and the starless flight of his Caraxes, all at once, while the 9 could only watch and despair, it was the tormenting and barraging onrush of the epical and biblical proportions, not even the holy book could describe such heroism. The formation of Dragon was…working.

All the men upturned their shields, long as themselves and wider than usual, covering both human bodies along with their loyal and noble companions and when a combined assault was laid down and set into motion, came forth, the leaden laden shields of theirs were shown to be the miracle by itself, for it wasn’t only poisonous upon the touch, but when the Dragon breath reached them, it was giving out the green essence of gremlin saliva that was kindly extracted, given by gremlins of free will, and now put to use, making the most of their dire circ*mstances.

Because this creative genesis gave them both space and freedom of movements. Grey Wind howled at Caraxes, wanting nothing more but to shred him into pieces in the way that no one is going to put him together anymore, and with bellowed echoing, the Blood Wyrm did answer only to fall from the shady, vast sky along his Dragon fire stuck in his mouth. Daemon to his mind blowing and beyond belief mindset, was falling, the unforgettable experience.
For this is absurd, inconceivable to think to what spacious lengths Stark went where he by one move killed off Targaryen mutants, compelled Great Dragon Lord to survive falling off the skies, managing to land without crushing down entire nature, blocking Dracarys even when all of his 9 stayed under thralldom.

Albeit subduing vassals, placed in bondage, ascended against dominating Masters. I underestimated you. Forgive me, now it is you and me who are left to stand because I see that your little leaden soldiers are struck by the weight of massiveness they had to uphold for you gratification. I know you listen to me and you may hear me, your shroud is down and I am entering. So, what do you say, Robb Stark? Meanwhile, Jon Snow, from remote distances learned how to send vibes, feel the disruptions in the air with the stirrings of the magic, receiving that Robb is truly the most ingenious of all the Starks!

Insightfulness, flash forward, he vividly smiles. And similarly to Sansa and her Lady’s pose when they exhibited, in the same manner, Robb Stark was posing with his Grey Wind, using his wolf’s speed to push his men to stand down. Let them draw back. Now, another phase begins, him with Dragons!
Splendid Mind of Old Gods, to new life forms, where is your God now? I am going to make him bleed, just as you are getting your respective reward... in my dungeons.
Black water of black well, is telling the knowledge to everyone who asks, right then, Dragon Queen, for whom was fashioned specifically, looks into it.
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A beautiful high mind of the even more glorious end in my lone cell. The speech, the mastery, the culturally differences, tongue of olden understanding and swelling feelings that built up the ambience.
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To whom we turn to when the night is the darkest? It is what we see in their blood that flows through.. Once you craved to sacrifice everything to be with God, now, you belong to another, you are mine. They say, North Remembers. I say, remember Stark, it could be you in his stead, just like between your sister and Lannister’s daughter of sunshade. In the heat of the combat, the shadows fell in between us.

Chapter 11: We will be heroes! Warrior Princes!

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Just as Water Dragons are rare, so are the rarity hiding anyone from the world successfully for very long. It is better when you are not known, only then, you may follow what is one day to be followed not just by oneself, even others to emulate the life itself. Let us live forever where only the bravest may step, and his people did as they were told. Just Grey Wind and his 9 Dragons, young hatchlings, the wonder that happens once in a lifetime to the human and his Northmen were there, stayed here, watching from afar to see if there is anything they can do for him, for this was truthfully just between the two most powerful men at that time of this memorable, grand war.

Of one human who dared to oppose one of Gods, and that was Prince Daemon Targaryen who got down from his unharmed Dragon who desired nothing more but to burn everyone who even lay a finger on his Lord. Just to spite, the roaring of Caraxes was freezing the boiling blood inside your very veins. What a beast this was. He could burn the hundreds of King’s landings. Not just one. Such was impressive, this magnificence that lived and earned the right to be of Fire and Blood, as the Red Wyrm of the bleeding skyline. And now, the silvery cape flows around the armored body, just as his luxurious silvered mane with the tiny beads of dew who are decorating his pride and red plume of Dragon Helm that is ascending highly. Without a need to prey on the powerless, he is approaching Prince Robb Stark, and with every step he advanced, Robb Stark did the same, leaving Grey Wind behind, for that is how it was enacted. Never before he was this far from his own Wolf, but now it proved to be better, just the two of them and at the safe distance of the ruined battlefield, let him be there in case if Lord Daemon kills him right in the spot. He is the easy target for the Valyrian Steel, with just his icy glare, he was within his reach, alike the offering, Lord Stark stands so tall!

- Very well, this is how you look up close. Hm, handsome I must say – without thinking, leaving Robb very surprised, he cups his strong chin and as if he was checking the commodity, Daemon first turns Robb’s left cheek, then another, prior to returning his fair visage to stare spitefully, fairly straightly at him, Robb slapped the hand far from his face. – What are you doing?! I am not for sale! – Everyone is for sale. Tell me your price and I am going to sell you more than well to the next, of greatly status, Dragon Lord or Lady? There are Great Ladies among us too, I am just one but there are many as I am. We spread as the wildfire that consumes even the best.

- This is not about my surrender! – Then, what is it?! I offer you a life of abundance, never to even have a worry on your mind, everything will be displayed just for your secret desires, and when they come true, all what you need to do is your duty to the House of the Dragon. That is all, really. Imagine, good food, always dressed well, cheer and laugh, and of course…babies.

- You really believe that I am going to take your offer, to be your pet in the golden cage? You are mad. – I knew you are going to say that, but let me put it this way to you. Somewhere, someone would give up everything just to have a roof over head, and before you say, why don’t you wait for such to come to you, well, it is not that easy, for the freedom is the heavy cost you are to pay, regret much later and still, return to the way you are, because this is what you strive to have, but cannot and we are abound, and ready fulfill your every wish just as your needs are met. And, just to add. Not all is so bleak and black. You are healthy, of an excellent mind, good blood, imagine children, and a very good – looking adult, a little naughty, but we love a dash of spice just to enrich our lives and above all else, you are – he is in his personal space, into the paled countenance of his, invading his intimacy on purpose – human. So, what is your answer? – Robb didn’t allow this to anyhow distract him.

- You were once human too, prior to your re – imagination and now… you are mortal too. I can feel it. – Of course, humans always feel far better than we do, isn’t it?! – he smirks proudly at the boy he chose for the next prey. It was merely that inconvenience for being a nuisance when there is no need to be. – You know how I fare. I do not want you to see me as another slave, but…eye me as your equal. Just for a second, give me that and you shall see, there is more to humanity than this crude matter of which we are fashioned.

- Hm, what amazes me is that you really think you have that second with me? You gained your right? I fought many of you, they all were the same to me, everyone spoke the same and they all fell at my feet, under my control and power, to master them as I see fit. It is hard to bend the knee at first, though, eventually. You don’t even notice. Even that is to be earned. I am not impressed with these little tricks of yours, but now the game is over, or you wish for the real one to start? Do not begin it with me, Stark. You don’t want to meet that side of me. Accept this nicer guy I am showing you, and your blood would be put to use, not as the fodder, but for our bloodlines. Imagine, your genes as part of something bigger. For this is all I want to wish for you all, because of your human blood to spare you from…

- It is because of your wife, not blood or name, there is no difference to you, human is human, regardless of prestige or stature, but she is in your head every time you look at me, she is my sister too, that is why you are patronizing me, instead of fighting one on one. It is why you hesitate and hold back, don’t. – You know what that means if you refuse me, yet I am not giving up on any of you, yes, I gaze through and past you because I am Your grace that I shall give you at any time you express it. You are so precious.

And yes, this was Glorfindel’s adopted son. Whom he raised, re – imagined by his image, gave him his blood, the name and his own household, integrated him into the House of the Dragon, endowing him with home and the honor. One little slave boy who is trained out of reach of known, below a raw surface, emerging from darkness. Disciplined as Elf, and brought up as one of the greatest mythical knights that both Elves and kindred ever had.

- Lord Daemon, do not steal or take away what is not yours to equally give away. – Is that your final? – I believe so. – Then, we can concentrate on whatever matters to you. – Our swordfight?! – he asks hopefully.

- You won’t be given such pleasure yet. I know you want to draw me out in the open for your personal reasons for which I find very vain, for who you are anyway, to challenge me?! – I am Robb Stark! – And I am Targaryen, which one of us, even your own people would bet on? – You are elven one. – We are all ‘elven’, a difference rests in a choice with an original lineage, full blood breed to be born as you, or it is of your own kind and amongst the beauties such as yours, making us hybrids or half, nevertheless. Of the same source we all began our lives. However, we use the attribute elven Targaryen just to emphasize that one of the parents is of the Originals, of Valinor clan or Middle Earth tribe. – I merely meant to put the emphasis...that your father is honorable. And so are you, as well – Daemon narrowed his lavender eyes, what is he implying?

- He is Stark. Yes, I found out. I have birdies of my own too, as well as ways, so that you are aware that we are both Starks. I now, as Wolf to Wolf, for he is hiding from within you, challenge you to a duel. For you caused my war against you! – I believe you intend I slay you in front of your family and Baratheon? Unbound you follow everything what you deem worthy, and expect everyone else to follow you up. – What?! – caught him unawares.

- Oh, you haven’t sensed it, yet?! You trust that all the dynasties are rooted in honor, that they have started as something that is full of esteem and filled virtue? They are not, such as ours is, fire and blood. Yes, your wee defiant brothers succeeded where you failed, and all of them are coming here, saved – High Lord’s reaction, of the human Wolf Master was indistinguishable. As the response, Grey Wind snarls violently at Daemon, just for Caraxes to roar back, and together both are locked in hatred of Ice and Fire. Glimpsing up at Great Dragon Lord, all what he could foster in his ideas is one that stood out of all. Recalls IT.

Remembering what his younger brother told him. If it doesn’t need to be, then it shouldn’t. There is no reason why it must be his fate. Deciding for himself of his respective volition.
He can evade it with such easiness, just to give in a little bit of the pride and they are all safe, staying alive. Only if there is no choice, but as long as there is…Daemon evidently grew impatient because of Robb’s indecisiveness, probably, he has got to remind him? Or push ever so slightly. It took place and from nowhere, even his Northern people noticed from the safe distance that something was being done to him, the bleeding from his nose, ears, every pore, even the mouth commenced throughout which, Daemon Targaryen heralded the battle of minds. Your turn.
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Show us your wolfish guts of Warg wielder until his 9 hatchlings don’t go wild. For he has grown to be both Great Uncle and brother to his own brothers and sister, born into the Storm...
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On this day, Robb learned that there are catches that seize the human mind, for he wasn’t able to properly even count how many dragons he touched by a simple touch, and so, it is little to none possible to even compromise a Womb, yet, Lannister did it out of all, which means, that even the most gentlest souls are abiding in the cruelest of the dominions, for not is all without mercy when even the frail blossom is blooming like it was the First Spring of the Godswoods.
*
Fire Chronicles of chamber, bed and sheets of blood. Andals and Rhoynar of Men still live on.
Make all yours! Be of high or common birth, it doesn’t define what is born on the breastplate!

Chapter 12: The sad notes of the saddest sounds of lonely violin

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Do you have King’s blood in yourself? Does it run through you?! Live on?! No, you don’t have. Robb Stark. You are lowborn, as you always were, your birth doesn’t have anything to do with what you are really. You are the biggest bastard of all bastards. You are son of your father, appearing, you are not his. You are casting shadows very large at Uncle’s Ben bloodline. For you are more his son than you will ever be to Ned Stark. All your life, what you hungered for, is to be looked as something you will never be. It is never yours to take or enjoy. What is this?! Are you in my head?!

Where am I?! This is your new abode. Savor, just the way you like it. Robb Stark. Thus, the Wolf found himself somewhere in between Life and Death, for reality was the same and he watched the Red Wedding, images were passing one by one, side by side, one after another. Someone would think that he is nurtured into the privileged and abundant life, while being surrounded by the serving men and maids of honor, but that wasn’t the truest and actual real life, Ned Stark with each taken breath, had them regain for everything they have been served and delivered. Every bite had to be paid or taste has to be re - earned, and each one of the service they have been given, it has to be, when the nightshade falls, cleaned and swept, so that when the ones who wake the first and go to bed as the last, weren’t the people who are in their servitude, at Stark’s court, those were all his children. The only way how they can learn to respect what other people were doing for them, was only through selflessness of themselves.

Other than his shadow, no one ever found a flaw in the education of his own wolf offspring and take a look at them now. It is essential why Robb Stark proved to be so strong. Whatever Daemon was putting him to live through, he was fending off. I shiver, yearn. Give it all to me. I have waited too long. If you restrain against me, Daemon. You are cowardly. I dreamed about this moment like it was the thousands of thousands lifetimes and I would still wait for. Now it is the time. I am prepared to die. I was readied to fight you. Daemon Targaryen. I can’t describe a feel.

This is my destiny, not just because I was told so. Everything led to this point of my life. Take it, but do not underestimate me. The eternity is not enough for what I feel right now. Is that so? Little Wolf? Then, see this new reality, the time line. Experience and we will know! For instead you, I have come for Arya Stark. But if not her, then Renly Baratheon. One needs to be brought back or you are owing to Seven Hells. You are honored. I am going to demean you. Who are you to dare against myself?! You are no Lone Wolf. You are the failure. A disgrace.

- I wouldn’t be if I am to give up on myself? – the question was aimed at the glimmering Heart Tree, the tiny, shining pearls were underlining the beauty that is hidden beneath the rough crust, highlighting the sad notes of the wolvish violin, which commences its requiem for the Life as it is. With every off-key, the wrong sound, it was just affirming what was to come. Where was this?! Feels her, turns around, it was teary Arya who hugged him so.

- Robb, you are in here!? You are well! I am so happy and merry! Thanks to the Lord of Light! – Lord of Light?! What is this place?! Where am I?! – Robb, don’t you recognize me!? – Your grew up! – Yes, I am! Here, Jon is coming too, to see you! – Jon survived?! Bastard of Winterfell?! – He is not, he is our King! – King?! – Oh, Grey Wind! – Arya literally squashed from happiness and unexplainable joyfulness the Big Wolf who complained through muffled yowls. Since when she got to be so strong?! It hit him. She is as real as he is, but, he doesn’t belong to this universe. Daemon, what kind of power you wield, when you are competent to break the chains of the timeline zones?! Unfathomable the least. – The Red Priest has come and brought you two back! You are alive! – she explained it, throwing a glance or two, every single time she thinks that Sansa or Jon are nearing. – No, I am not – she glances up, this disturbed her. – Robb?!

- I am not your Robb. But I am Stark, and listen to me, Arya. I believe, you are the part of my conscience, the one that can help me prevail over elven captivity I was put in. I can’t stand to be in bondage, I am not a thrall. Rather death I choose, just to avoid their slavery, believing mortals can be subdued by earthly sins – she stands up, taller than previously, pride was shimmering from her mortal glare. – You already figured this all out?! – Yes, I did. He can’t confuse me. He needs something stronger, what can break me, and my family is making me only tougher, not weaker. – You are a crybaby. Robb. Too much emotional and sensitive, you are bonded, that is why you fall. – I show no mercy. – It is everyone’s downfall. You are lying, you out of all were always merciful, you are meant to fall again.

- Please, Arya. Work with me! I beg you – he clutches tightly at all of her, embracing warmly. – This is me, another Robb. Arya...my alter ego. You got this manifested picture for me to see, in you I find the courage. You give me that, you are small and girl, it never stopped you to be powerful. Teach me, Arya, just as you showed me. I want to overpower my vanity and win over that Dragon bastard!

- I am here, to relay to you. There is no need to fight so much anymore. Just yield. Survive, this is what your sister wants.

- I am not Oathbreaker!
- But you are! – the eerie footsteps startled them, they both eyed at the direction from where that sound came from, seeing the endearingly smiling Great Dragon Lord at the foot of the gnarled, visible root that was protruding the uneven, twined soil. – What a sweet reunion. Do you want her? You can taste her. Make her yours. This is what Dragons do to all of their sisters and cousins too. – I am not Dragon! – You will be when it is mingled to ours. Beneath all your skin, you belong to us. And Greyscale shall eat you whole one day, Stark.

- Daemon… - You see that man over there, your sister grew still, yes, that is Baratheon – Robb turns around, watching in horror, how Renly is struggling against Dragon knights who are dragging him away, for their strength is indescribable, something he is never to be conflicted evermore or to experience the way he was now, passing by his Prince, who is watching at one dot, never somewhere farther than he did. Renly is trying to say something to him, prior to being silenced and taken away. Arya blocks their path. Disrupting their intentions, saying.

- Take me, instead of him! – Baratheon is full with the unsaid gratitude, but never in this way. – Oh, Wolf Lord? What is going to be?! Choose, your sister or Baratheon – this was it. Prince Robb eyed above the snowy eaves of Winter’s marvels, and he smiled, once, the life was so simple. They were rejoicing over the simplest of joys, the things that meant the life, the trifles which had the meaning. When, did he forget it?

Where is that side of him, that ceased to exist?! Because life became harder? Unfair, flowering with greed and selfishness?! When was that time, when he was just him?! I am so frightened to die. What is out there?! Daemon repeated. Choose, sister or your lover. Who is going to be?! He thought he is ready for his life to be stolen from him, but he isn’t. I am so afraid. God. Please. I was always so fearful of life and this man is my Wall I need to break.

- Kill them both. Or both to be taken?! Robb, the clock is ticking. The Time and Life, never bided for anyone. Or I really have got to do what I should in the first place. You are the one who is surrendering – something moves in the Young Wolf who gazes up, straightly at the Great Dragon and for the first time in his life, Daemon feels it. Fear, not the one when someone of his is in danger or he can’t win, this was...different.

He was the one who is giving it to him. He always thought it will be Jon Snow for whom he has nothing but admiration, he is inspiration, but this one…

- Neither. I deliver you NOTHING – and the Wolves howled. All what remained is the darkness around them. Everything was gone, he rejected the life that is offered.
- You must do – a cruel voice is caught in his dry throat, what is he doing…to him – as I say. Stark.

- I don’t need to do anything. I owe you nothing. And what are you going to do with me, anyway? Afterward when you are more than certain in your victory. What then?! What is left there for you, when we are all put down, to grovel and cower underneath your authority?! Who are you?! Really?! Just a power hungry Targaryen. Why everything must be as someone says? You are to be the one who teaches me? I am so grateful for you. I truly am, even jolly that everything is going so great to your life that you have this instinct to talk down to anyone you deem unworthy, you are Dragon who looks down on others, condescending them if only they try to even think something what is not designed by your laws. No more bound by our limitations.

- Warg Powers. Humans evolved, using the unused parts of their brains for their goals. I never even fathomed you are going to be this strong. Oh, now I see you Robb. This is you. You are the heir to your Uncle Ben. The most powerful of all Warg wielders and you are his successor. – GET OUT OF MY HEAD! YOU CURSING DRAGON!

The two of the seasoned warriors, Targaryen and Stark are back to their realism, leaving behind, all of the surrealistic images of the lives which are not theirs, but the living form of other’s are. Because the new life shapes were never about the truth and only such, it was a lot more, because of which, North People cheered and hailed. 9 Dragons rooted for and Grey Wind yowled, long and due. Sending message, for since when is imparting mercy, the sign of weakness and not of the noblest deed ever bestowed? Targaryen Lord, the Great one, was on one of his knees bent, hardly returning to the upright position. Caraxes held his breath, in his Lord is shifted by how he perceives Stark. Heeding no one more, out of all…you are my deserving rival.

Not what I expected, instead I got whom I deserved. For your Long night of the Bloodmoon, seems to start getting the shape of the longest day in life.
Reflecting Outlines, the hardest tears to fall are not of men, than of champions! The biting winds are carrying the feeling through the Godswood’s soul.

Wolf’s heart, the spirit of dream. Coming for you, coming to all you, the mere oneself, just to realize, it was always this way. He is a human. Representing the ugliest and the most beautiful of humanity, between the lines, inly him, the storm was growing bigger from inwards of his, he is Warg.

The most powerful telepath of humankind was Stark, the unmeant King whose name North knows no better than by his birth calling, always was, Wolf.
The ascension of Young Wolf, the Overlord, the next in line. The contours of the Bloodmoon were evident. It was during dayspring. First was eons ago, the second was when the Night King came and the Third is foreseen, to no avail, this wasn’t the third, nor the last, this was one of those who visit without warning or any omen. That day, the clear Moon of the blushing red was ascending so high, replacing the Sun, for a little while, direwolf is glad.
*
Winning a battle, doesn’t mean the war too… Just as on a top of steep cliff, the symbolic rider still waits its day and so the Queen on the balcony of the silver castle bid farewell to her King.
*
Break the Wheel, kill the egg that gave birth to the boy, let it be born as childlike one who never grew up at all. The First Rangers of the North’s Wall, are spinning the Wheel even then.
*
On Syrax or Old Valyria planet, the motherworld of the Valyrians, lived Dark Goddess’s children, Lilith, the three breeds, of which Balrogs remained only as clones and phantoms, the Dragons are melded with the flawed Valyria child and the third, the perfected form is wrought out, they are hewn from the crudest material, of the founding minerals which reigned living forms, those were Targaryens. Out of the same matter and energy from which supreme Eru Iluvatar extracted and implemented as the part of 14 Flames of Old Gods which she later put into practice likewise, from her own flesh and blood, flowed new Life, the life forms which she scorned, killing all what she created, leaving nothing behind, cursed to become Mother Spider, to grow into something we all fear, nightmare of nightmares. Ungoliant under Mount of Doom opposite Mordor lands, it is destroyed by her, but she is still trapped by Will of God, that is yet to resist, but by each second, she will be unleashed, unbound to scour, only then, the greatest of the greatest of noble thanes shall be the ones who stand in her way, against full oblivion and between life, sometimes you hear darkling screeches that are freezing clear water in you, down Misty Mountains, nighmarish sounds are listened, spread out and preyed upon…
Full - blooded, elven or half (hybrids), never mind, they are all the Dragons!
*
Waters of…immortality are devouring the immortal Death.
While all the nuances between elvish languages and the common tongue cease to be the problem as well as shades of normal and High Valyrian speech.

Chapter 13: Fairy mouth, impure cavern, the tamed

Chapter Text

Even if there is a person that doesn’t get to choose, but gets to win and own what is someone else’s, then at least, it wouldn’t seem like all changed overnight. Taken from you and went along with it. The scathing claws are scraping against the frozen floors, it was as the planetary rain of the intergalactic and stellar days, decided to make it all icy and cold, even harsher than before. And the thing is, animals feel it in their bones, all what someone sees is a weakling, now he sees the real you and it is far dangerous than from running. Mother Nature knows, and thus, animals withdrew too, their reactions are reasonable, no bird and no sound, just the responding to the womb that birthed even our Faith in God. Maybe, not Aegon the Conqueror, even so, I bid a pure heart of the champion. Daemon has discerned it, fairly much aware what he did and forgot what his father taught him. The moment you underestimate someone, you lose. And that is how it was, this was his day, and Robb stops bleeding, a response of his is undiscerning.

- You are still dyed with blood.

- I feel it.

- Let me wipe it off of you – Great Dragon offered with his silky handkerchief that appeared out of one of his pockets, only for Robb to turn him down, again.

- Get away from me – and the Dragon smirks. – Are we that repulsive to you? You despise our beauty?

- No, but what is under that Dragon skin. You are ugly.

- Then, I apologize for underestimating you, human. But, I still claim that you are better on your knees or bowing, just bent it already. It would be a shame to torture you, burn you and eat you alive. You have, after all, a gorgeous skin. – Just one step toward me, and I am making a cripple out of you.

- Ah, this brings the good feels into me, almost flourishing my restless self – his bright smile grows even wider – for you may always try. So, I offer you anew, become my captive and all privileges and remarkable fortune is coming your way, with all benefits and perks are yours. – I am giving you Riverlands instead. – Oh, now this gets interesting, I listen – Daemon once again is invading his space.

- Please, distance yourself from me and without touching.

- I can’t keep my eyes nor hands off you. My Queen is the same with others, and so, why wouldn’t I lavish you all alone by myself too? Only, of course, you permit that to yourself…to enjoy me.

- Targaryen. I warn you. Off of me – regardless of Daemon’s playfulness and his spirited nature, because he highly wanted to rub off on him, to melt his heart, that raw wall of his, with which he enclosed and walled himself around, however, it was apparent that Robb doesn’t share the same wavelength, refusing cruelly his advances, which means, his open disdain for Targaryens, all that is linked to what is theirs, was real, not a disturbing product of his humanity, but of the sheer hoarded, bad experiences. He has a right to feel that way, it is not his to take it from him, but it isn’t his either to paint them all with the identical color. Seeing beyond and something in them, which is in there dwelling, ready to bloom, alas, humankind never gave them the opportunity to shine, therefore, as any human, he chose to ignore it.

- I just don’t trust you, I would rather let you all die, even though you are appreciating less life, because I don’t believe in your pure intentions, nor the obvious reasons which are bordering on madness since the first break of the morn, neither I witnessed any good from you, everything you do, there is the price, and the sole reason why you are handling it. You never know what is behind all, or in the center standing. You are just relishing when someone is suffering under you. Nothing is for free for you. You always ask something in return. I learned it the hard way when I met Feanorians.

- Are you going to say these same words to his face too? – Whose?! – Jon Snow. – He is my brother. – He is the elven Targaryen, or better to depict, regarding his father’s lineage, all in him is summed up and consisting, containing our kind cells. – He is nourished here. He is the Northman. The Highlander. One of us! But you, you are Abomination! Why you Dragons don’t leave us alone?! This is why I give my mother’s homeland. But, leave the Vale out!

- You are conscious that all these people of the Vale and Riverlands alike are also harboring the pure, sole and excellent compounds in their blood? Not equally as Baratheons, but… - I said, the land is yours, not people. I am taking them with me, you are left with the vacated castles, fertile lands and...

- Ah, I awaited for that snake to crawl out. And that implies, in your way, which means too, by your theory, that I am just unto to take emptiness, fortune and another opulence with no civilization to take care of? We have plenty of that, but not enough mouths to nurture as well. Leaving us…empty handed. Oh, how nice, greatly nice move, actually, you are a funny man.

- I am the venomous viper. When I bite, you feel it. I don’t give you anything. I know it is never about territory. I know you. You want humans. This was all about, just the power and control over another. Land, wealth, gold, here and there, it means nothing to you, Targaryens. You crave the other form of power and this is something you are never going to possess. You revel in what is not yours, neither to seize or to conquer anymore. You just want some more, never satisfying greedy appetites, until you swallow us whole and nothing is left behind. Your colonization, occupation and invasion, is ending here! – Who is going to be the one, who closes the vicious circle. You?

- Yes! – the Great Dragon openly bursts out laughing so hard and naughtily, that it didn’t sit well in Robb’s guts, it unsettled him, it definitely made him feel uneasy.

- You are really something! You know – he fought to compose himself finally – and with every your desperate struggle, you grow in my eyes, without digging your grave, but something a lot more heavier, breaking fairly the perilous grounds, having me fall for you, but in some other fashion, of course. My Stark. And you are treading the very, oh, so sorely dangerous thin ice, the lines so dangerously close to your Home.

What is that supposed to mean now?! He made his terms, giving it to him, what he wants from him anymore?! And the way he said “my”, he belongs to no one! He is just, at this point, too much scared to even argue about it too. By this, he hit all the chords he had in his reserves and every note he nailed, never to miss, it was the perfection of the well played music without off-keys, pushing far as long as he could, as always bided time for the dire instant.

- Land with no people?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR f*ckING MIND, PRINCE ROBB?! – yeah, this was it. Intruding all over again his personal space.

- With what I am going to reign, me and my people?! With ghosts and empty halls?! Dealing with my kind is one thing, but with me, you are playing most nastily, this Game of ours!

- No human lives you are going to get from me.

- And you are stopping me?

- YES! I AM!

This one was mad, he can’t even make fun of it! This is insanity! He is not owning Riverlands without people! If he claims, he seizes all. Not just a half.

- I regret it from before, I should have shoved my handkerchief down your throat, in such a way stuffing your mouth, stopping another flow of your impurities, but now, it is just a waste of the fine one I had to bring out anyway! – putting it back where it belonged in the first place, in one way, amusing Robb, in the other, he got badly upset by seeing this infuriated beast whose eyes of the purest lavender shone back at him with even ferocious ferocity. There is always the unpredictable fear they succeed to draw out from you. – You will have me, then. The lands and myself, if you win. – You are a mere one. – I...- he is risking everything – would agree for you to rape me in front of your people if you beat me.

The Targaryen, lifted the lavender stare of his, eyeing dark and deep, stared back at him longer than necessary with the deepness that is never deplored.

- Well – the corner of his lavished lips, curls up, appeasing him so – now you play the game, but…some Dragon Lords of ours, won’t return with empty hands, neither they tolerate to be empty handed, no more, they are ready to come either for the baby or child, some orphan, as the compensation, that is the direst of your kind, still, do not even cross your mind with the thought to mutilate them, no use, for it doesn’t reduce their worth, making them all the more desirable by such desperate acts, in our eyes, all may be mended, but the human soul, can’t be bought back, nor renewed, even so, infertility and barren wombs in humans can be cured unlike in us. Representing to no problem to our kind.

- What about my aunt? – Daemon grins sneakily and widely. – You know that Elves do not return what is lost to you. These are my regards that live for you. Not even your bleeding Warg powers cannot do anything about it, or think of something, not even a say. All what you may do is to accept!

This man is evoking such a dread in him, that is felt even from the opposite side, everything went quiet so, for it is blossoming, so unstoppably arousing in the Great Dragon Lord too, no one made him feel the first real fear ever and this man did, with all his easy desperation, that despair is something the most beautiful that ever his eyes laid upon, to behold what is not to be touched, to rest all in the restored and rebuilt dominance, once again at the crossroads putting him. If this is how he chooses, so it is going to be, this is what he vowed to do, for him. For his...Dragon Lord who is more than keen to have even vacant abodes if it means that Prince Stark is ready to promise an ultimate pleasure, having him already sense a taste, licking brimming lips.

Chapter 14: Sunshine of fairy dust

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In the farthest of the East, Glorfindel was still asking himself how Bolton succeeded to break his influence he had over him. He is a highly social man, but even he loves his privacy, that is why he ordered Bolton to stay where he is with his Blackie, in their newly settled dwelling, and not to even dare thinking of escape from him, nothing to cross his mind, any of the notion of leaving without his permission. He will know just as he knows whatever is happening right now, lurking dangers or not, and if he is disobeyed, well, the happy times follow for him, to the dismay of Bolton’s.

Anyway, he was foraging for half an hour, disbelieving the lack of food. The East was always thriving, the most prosperous from any other wide, rich and broad regions, but it seems, the War is taking its toll. Nevertheless, life always finds its way, usually, but the rumbling of his stomach was disapproving. Damn, the thing is, he can if he is in the threatened state to endure for 30 years not to eat or drink, but when the adrenaline is not working for him, he is able to eat about tons of food.

Yes, even Bolton was found shocked just how much Glorfindel is fit to eat. One time, he ate just for one lunch, the whole buffalo, and someone would think it would keep him for days, maybe the entire 24 hours, or at least not to feel nonstop the hunger or as a man to have forever room for more, how the myths are saying and keeping on, even then, that wasn’t the case.

Glorfindel is drawing the large amount of his power from Mother Earth and the more powerful he is, how the time is passing, the more excruciating, void hunger is, which the common man wouldn’t be able to hold out, starving to the death, except, this was Glorfindel about whom it was talking.

Therefore he was in the constant need for far more so that he can satisfy his never ending hunger, and at long last, three bears. All three males. The elfin eyes are twinkling and in a blink, all three fell down from either of his poisoned arrows, the dart tips or with bare hands he was forced to finish it, quickly and no suffering.

Hauling the tied feast together, deeming how the warm coat of theirs will come in handy too, breaking no sweat, he dragged it to Bolton’s feet and his disbelieved face.

Those were all giants, while Blackie was the cutest and the most happiest doggy alive, he has got to eat plentifully! It smells nice, even if it is raw and full of yummiest blood.

- Your Blackie can’t wait! And don’t ask by what strength I towed it in here, you know I am abnormally strong, Ramsay, but just wait a moment, we won’t keep him waiting – the wagging is amplified, as well as barking happily around, hopping so, all the while slitting of a thick throat was taking place verily now, and soon he is given all the bliss to even get under the leaking wound, sucking as a gleeful baby, totally delving through insides whereas only the little butt is continually waving the tiny tail, the remaining part that is visible – hehehe, just wait when it is fully roasted after which you sprinkle with the bear’s lifeblood – merrily watching the little bundle of joy how he is slurping the animal’s vitality dry before he went onto the next one, this time, this one was for the two of them. He took both handmade cups, shaped from the natural resources, and filled them to the brink, overfilling richly, Bolton made a face when Lord Glorfindel neared his personal drink to his immortal lips, yes, he has got used to it by the fact, it would be uncommon that he isn’t for someone who started drinking with ease, watching how Adam’s apple is going up and down, yuck, he is not taking the offered drink after Glor wiped himself with the back of his hand.

- Drink, this is yours.

- I suffer from constipation, this is going to further block my sh*t – a shining golden Elf of layered gold threads, sighs away. – This is good for your immune system. I am Elf, but you are human, which means, no antibiotics for you unless through natural resources, not humanly produced, and the second thing is, if I penetrate you, all the sh*ts of yours, are going to definitely stream flawlessly from the inside of you. – On second thought, give it to me – after a while – not bad.

- You see? – By the way, why we do not use your unicorns or some animals? – First of all, if I hadn’t experienced my change of heart thanks to Jon Snow, yes, that one of yours and my insolent nephew, but I like him that way, this is something what you are the most familiar with, not wanting something ordinary, having no other way, because we Elves are preferring everything that is standing out from the conforming crowd and because of which I joined you, for let us be honest with each other, you wouldn’t survive without me, wherefore, I use up a lot of energy to cloak us both which just add to my cravings, especially I have got to utilize a lot for myself, and that means we would be sensed much quicker by Lord of the Darkness if we are to ride. I already have a difficulty not to get sensed, though, as soon as we are to near him, you won’t be felt, I will be, but then, mu plan shall be set in motion. – I asked you one question. – You got a history.

Ramsay snorted, he can’t deal with Glorfindel like this, so he just leaves it. Giving in, something what the High Knight of Gondolin prefers much more.
- I am making a regal banquet in our cave tonight! We are going to eat like Kings! And rejoice as Gods! – You are King who serves another and you are God Elf – from one side it could be heard how the windy currents are dancing alongside the charming winter’s wisps, the inlaid yellow gleams in glory’s irises rose their glare up at the Bolton. – What?! You are obnoxious with the truth. You despise everyone who avail their tongues to tell lies, which one I told untrue? – Do not invoke the Devil to yourself, Ramsay.

- As if you would for the North?! You are a Northman, we both are, we are the same. This is how I behold and perceive you. Feel, think, and look at. I don’t say I am looking up to you, for there is no chance that any of us is left unchanged or unmoved after you. To me, if I have to choose between you and Jon, we both know who would be the winter? Right?! Eh…from time to time, I state the obvious, I am not the one who is causing pain to myself – with this, the shining white of the sunny sheen in the Elf’s eyes was glowing ever so magically. – It is true what they say, you have your way with words, and specifically when the Iron Doors are to be opened with the kindest of sorts – looking straight at him.

- No one ever praised me as you did. It is simple and commonly and yet… I must thank you. Yes, I am the rightful King, even so, I would stay limited. You really can imagine me on some throne, if I am acknowledged...that would be enough..., but not to ever wander…is this your cruel punishment you would impart unto me? – so unnerving was this Elf. He could have everything and still, he was just fine to start from the beginning and retake it all by himself, as he did. Why?! – You are mortal. If you would taste immortality – he is eyeing his large elven hand, smeared in blood – you would understand, and yes, you are unraveled before me, you are slacking off – he offers him a golden smile of his, Ramsay scoffs. – I could give it to you, I would cut you open and pour down my own vital life in you and here you are. – Impressive, howsoever…You said it yourself, you hate too badly to be stuck in although I believe that is your excuse with not facing what is yours, it is easy to run, bound forever to one place, instead, I get to see the other side – this enthralled Glorfindel, it was happening at last. Ramsay Bolton is becoming…so human, is it possible, just like Jon Snow, more human than actual ones?! Miracles happened.

- You are not as stupid as you were, don’t take it as an insult, but you were lacking in that area, unlike your father who fosters higher intelligence. Next to me, even your vocabulary is expanding.

- The truest statement of the century, and please… Don’t remind me, often he treats me as a pest, not a son.
- Yet, he took you for what you are, because I told you your real truth about the origins, for you, he is your very sire you will ever know, regarding you are his, so that he is worried sick whenever you are in peril. – How do you know?! Ah, you know everything. – Who wouldn’t?! Seven thousand years. It is a long time, don’t you think?! – Is this your true face, like for real?! – Yes, I am fairly normal when I want to be, but in front of monster like creatures like you are, I am a Beast. Your favorite Clown Elf!

Darkness arouses him?! So here is where the little rabbit was hiding, indeed. Shields up all around his natural barriers, lucky, he doesn’t need to learn it!

- Or being taught… - Stop it! – I prefer a tongue of yours – flaying of the hunted down bear’s coat began and Blackie gets so sleepy, can’t hold out until he is inside snugness, not even his Owner to get him in there, so, he flips over, on the spot, stuffed full, smeared, dropping as the dead again, dozing off, it is entertaining watching his antics, similar to Ramsay’s – unless you do not wish to keep it, I can claim as a trophy instead, what do you think?! – Here you are anew, your normal state lasted like two minutes, too much even for your taste. – I would begin feeling most concerned, normality makes ME mad. I am not myself.

- Go figure. Even when there is no foreshadowing, you are outshining even the shiniest of all our Mother Earth! – Something like that after all. I am Winter is coming! I adore my alias. I love a worshiped tone it holds in itself. Names are powerful when given. And hey, don’t just stand and watch, enjoy yourself too! – All right, all right. – Hm, it seems Blackie starts to mirror you, taking after his Master. – I can die happy. – Ha, I see you have been waiting for me, asking yourself for sure, where I have been for so long?! – I haven’t missed you. I had my peace. – My heart bleeds because of your words. – I am not that lucky to bleed till you perish for good!

Oh, he gives to his favored human a concealed smile, later, because he doesn’t want every single time to look after him, he is serving him some bondage style, putting in steely chains from where there is no run and other games, of course, he doesn’t need to know. At least, he will be thoroughly secured and him peaceful without tries of escaping, unnecessary noise he produces most of the time and other blissful hours he fills with his dejection of life. Ah, he loves his little human monsters, even his big warrior down there is turning on just by a thought. Basically, all of his family is composed of Stark bloodline despite being Elves, be it of Valinor Houses, Middle – Earth Tribes or Dragon Clans.

Unrelenting as deeply dancing of Waltz, a darkly dance.
Dutifully coming with you, whip, chains or weapon of choice, he used them all, particularly magic just like his best friend, the comrade in arms and the grandest of rivals, Spirit of Fire, even Flame of Soul shies away from him, whenever he appears, he is as keen chakram that splits and unifies, everything that is, it now begins. There is a reason why he doesn’t lay a claim on the northerly throne anymore. When he got Dany, his wee silvery child, no turning back. Failed at a try. Later that night, the first time, he truly slept even if Elf and dreamt about desired daughter like no other born during a stormy day. Wildfire of our banners, of my home.
Am I everything you dreamed? Like child, like father, if she were my pure light of stars in her curls, I was the sunlight that was shining through ancestral beauty.
Holy Night of elvish fabled voice, the first touch is innocence, first taste is your dream, the last kiss is the shiniest smile which Glorfindel of the Golden Flower bestows to a dreamer in the starry chamber where dreams are gifted life. So that King’s blood that runs… is no more...
*
The families of both worlds, stood between Light and the Dark of Shadows. The Queen of Thorns knew what she did at her last taken breath, for her thorn birds and doves are still in her service even after her death, she lived on, envisioning the place where love prevailed over sin.

Chapter 15: My Dream of Dark Prince

Chapter Text

Where you are, I go too. Hybridization of crossbreds and inbred persons is in fact the paradox where you secure not to succumb to the deformity that expresses itself in the form of the madness. Making sure that even his Swan Prince of Targaryen genes does not fall for it too, alongside with their only child they ever cultivated together. And all the clamor in the land of the Valar where men don’t need to die is keen on the universal truths, from where all began. Thus, Glorfindel is finding himself in the undiscovered waters. Dreams, for real. We do not have need to talk with you humans. It was him, his words. He is dreaming about his life. Nor the meaningful conversations, but we respect your traditional ways, for you love regularly having freedom with no mutilation or bondage, because we love you, it suits us when you speak words.

That is why it is said, if you still wish to lead such loveliness, to have it and experience with humans, keep their speech in any way unsullied. Let them hear themselves while you listen to Dark Waltz. We pay heed to your suffering, we are yours if you are ours. Here she is, the star of his dreaming land, his Daenerys, his loved daughter. He asks her to dance with him and she did, how can she deny him anything, with her father of the purest whim of inlaid gold, she is everything because of him. Whenever she was in the jeopardy, he appears and the Shadows run away from him. There was once that Shadow phantom who haunted her, but thanks to her Dad, all went with the wind. Doesn’t even remember what fear means, he had her God in the shape of Elf. Suddenly, in the twirling of her dress’s seams, he saw her!

- How much longer until we arrive? – Rickon asked his brother. – Just a little while, quick, the day is not getting younger. It waits for no one and don’t worry about them, Nymeria has them, let them sleep - while in that dream, she faced her new found family member. The one even her father confronted once, never hurt him, but could, having his reasons why he did what he had to, such is the destiny of those who are judged by the appearances and covers, he head many faces, but only one was truly his, he is not faceless, not bodiless and nameless, he is the one who always guarded them from afar and in the shadows was himself. Seeing how he started, the beginning and now, made her cry and swell with pride. She knows death and more than ever she knew what is Evil when she looks at someone, he had none even though he was a bad man for the world. Sometimes, even the Sun burns us when we get closer where it isn’t our turn to look at. Yet, without him there would be no life at all.

What is there to say? Hello?! Can she speak. He recognizes her and smiles kindly. This time, he looked very tired from life. He reminded her of her dad.

- Are you the one they call…Glorfindel? God Elf? You are also my Uncle?!
- I have lots of names, one of them, led me to you, which one you would give me and one of your faces? – Neither, you are perfect. I know numerous faces and among all of them, you are the perfection of God’s – he laughs a bit.

- No one is perfect, Arya, my loveable niece. – Why did you take Sansa and Ramsay?! Why did you do what you did, because of that...I lost my Dad! We all admired our King! But, I just can’t blame you, can’t be mad with you…he chose it for himself… I know now. I was enlightened, but why them?! What is there that decided our fates opposite Lannisters? It could be them, why chose us over them?! What is it with us that God dislikes? Aren’t we doing better? We are trying so hard. Please, answers! I am aware I ask a lot, but, is it something that is connected to God’s grand plan and we are all just roles in the game?! And… - she had a feeling if she stops now, she is never going to get another chance, taking her chances.

- Why don’t you come home? I believe father deep down knew, why are you against us, on that side?! We are family! – remaining silent for other purposes, he answered with the question. - How did you harvest your information, ah don’t tell me… I see it through you. You had your quite well…experiences with Targaryens. – Why are they so different and mad?! – It is because of Dragons, they gave them great power, but no responsibility to wield such lives. So that all is rendered to the survival instincts. They are wide awake, knowing they are outlanders, never to be accepted and so, they do what they must. It is grander than them! Can’t fight against such temptation!

He possessed such a soothing voice, wanting to hug or near him. She was captivated. Ah, this was his power, he lures you to him. Looking so unearthly.

- Whom are you with now? – Ramsay Bolton. I thought I can go through with my original plan, let it all unravel by itself, for me not to interfere, let you children play this game, but God has spoken. I am his manifested Will that delivers and frees. I am here to serve only one master and my people, be them Elves or humans… For I am the Protector of all the world, not just the seven realms. – You have been anointed?! – Yes… I did.

What happens after?! Or there is something he is not telling her. She read it, gaining such insight. No, it can’t be. Robb! No, no, he must stop it. MUST.

- I can’t. It is all in their hands, or better to say…Daemon’s. He is going to learn that his purpose is much different from the one we take on ourselves and once that happens, you are freed. – But – she cries out bitterly – he is my brother!
- Arya, trust God, trust your brother, I know, believe me – he interfered with her speaking by raising a hand, silencing her by a single move – do not despair. Stark is stronger than it is reality.

Even Jon from far away, in the isolated dungeons, feels his time with his fellowship is coming back but until these are all your moments. Arya woke up.

- Hey, sister! – both brothers and direwolves were so glad. – Brothers, we have got to hurry! – We are! – Quick! Our brother Robb! Faster Starks!

Like the madness got her, burrowed into her and let it there to be bred, urging Nymeria to literally fly, never feeling her paws evermore. This was freedom, and her family followed after her, while Renly is dreamless in his sleepy head, on the opposite side, Glorfindel wakes up. It transpired to him. He gained the human heart, the only one who became human, keeping his immortality as Elf. He had dreams, the real ones in the sleep, not awake like Elves, unlike any others, he cries himself to sleep once again, turning his huge, guarding back to Ramsay who at least could breathe clearer now when that Elf wasn’t all over him, suffocating him with his weight, still, he is once more all securely tied up and tightly gagged! Blackie, you are of no use!

Cleansed, well fed and taken care off, cozily nested in between two, he was in Seven Heavens, as long as Elf is good, not too much naughty, something he can tolerate, all is well, what is done between those two regarding their love and war, considering that everything is permitted, as far as he is concerned, wasn’t his concern. His little paws twitched jointly with mini ears, he was stretching himself enjoyably, yawning, returning to his sleep, enjoying the free time with those two, gladly ignoring his too loud human. Bolton concluded. He was doomed indeed. In the morning, he was released, but every other night, if he gets some funny ideas and Glor catches up to them, the happy times for his elven being returns as well. Ah, he is bestowed by such a generous, giving man as Ramsay.

Meanwhile, without any warning, Robb drew his greatsword, his father’s Ice, after what, he immediately went to impale it upon Daemon who welcomed him by his twin swords. Fire and Blood, the ones he forged himself, the rightly and only wielder of two blades. Oh, this is going to be such fun, that is very soon to be promptly ended in a bad way for Prince Stark. Whilst, Lady Melisandre from the distant distances, felt the stirring. It is…what is this?! Needles and pins. She got up, all confused, because she knew she is going one day to witness it, go through such an experience, but never knew how or why, when and in what way it would be possible to distinguish the signs which are so clear. He was here. Azor Ahai, given birth…right now. Her…true and real, one and only. King! That is never to be hers, but someone else’s. The one who is the opposite of Night King. He came.
This is her both punishment and atonement. Falling on her knees, she wailed poorly and like never she did, she was broken and gentled so. For since that day, after the Sword of the Morning, Daemon is perfected, much more improved, regardless of how much Robb pushed, held lines, was swinging, attacking, defending, flipping, twirling, making even together with him a half star in the air, nothing helped and once the greatsword Ice that was, is no more, it fell in one smooth stroke, this was the strike that broke King’s sword in half, thawed in the snow was his strength, for despite all his efforts, the game was over before it even commenced. It is why Daemon was so definite not to fight, Robb stood no chance.

Having me understand, this presided over the game, by his own hands, I judged you. For the power of Valyrian Steel was unprecedented to everyone’s horrified dismay, before it, everything falls as it was envisioned. In the same fashioned, at him is aimed, under his throat the death, unto his breast plated chest, Daemon victoriously stood over him, once he toppled him down, forcing him to yield himself or die, standing above with one metal boot upon Wolf’s injury, stepping on and the Young Wolf howled. The sad notes of the saddest violin was permeating once again, imbuing with all different colors of the diverse hues. The agonized agony was unreal, the antagonizing defeat hurt among all else, and everyone felt that day, directly, Stark’s fall.

Shades of momentum, Winterdeep, Elves always bring along, hidden gems with them. You never know what is shrouded and what is to be unveiled so.
*
Crying Wolf’s tears, devouring, I asked for this from the One, Allfather. I implored, and I got it, we both did, each in the owned way, thank you, Lord. By my own hands, I carved it out so.
*
Let us evolve, give us power, we will be your everything you want us to be, healing faster, returning to our mother’s womb where chains are not ours but your reins to command our sin.
There is always the prowling peril that we will bite on our tongues without maiming us firstly.

Chapter 16: It doesn’t feel right, the shadows over us

Chapter Text

So warm upon the touch, even though it should be otherwise. This is how it is done, like the energy vampires, first they lure you, then drink from your Fountain, whatever it suggested to some, all is now similarly to Uncle Ben, he was a deft and seasoned warrior, but not that good at swordsmanship.

All hard working, tough and unbearably impossible Jon’s training and fierce discipline contributed mostly what serves him the most at his dire moment. That is endurance. Robb refuses being subdued to anyone, he is not submissive, never will be, never was, everything what he did, was not allowing his will bent to another, only what he had to do, for he is not breaking the willpower to someone who knew both domination as well as he felt the darker side of the experience which provides the top of food chain.

Experiencing both of sides of the same coin meant to be freeing, not a closed door for everyone else. In respect to the fact, Robb started pushing Daemon’s boot off him by sheer luck, the more he did, the more he is feeling that the might of Targaryen is going to gentle his bones and separate blood from his body. No! NO! f*ck this! The sword’s tip was piercing his skin, but not killing so.

Not yet, Targaryen wanted him alive, just as he promised. This was his wish, having one of Starks, one of his own, raped equal in front of everyone, only then and with that, he is coming to prove his loyalty, not if he is the truest of the blood, but that his fire is burning madly, more maddeningly than either of his kind.

For the time being, Robb is dancing the last Waltz. Never giving up and in the extraordinary move, he rolls to the side, flipping the Great Dragon together with him, dragging him along while the Fire missed its target and Blood is struggling to stab Robb who starts wrestling the Great Lord, wresting the charisma and influential authority of his. With bare hands he is fighting his chances, but Ice, his Ice, bewilderment overcomes!

- You are truly something masterful. You are defeated in a single motion, yet, what is there to prove?! What there ever was?!

- Nothing! I am not going down alone! You are with me!

- This was your divine plan!? – the Blood rests now next to Fire, for Daemon used both of his inhumanly strong arms and with them, he held down the two hands of Robb, pushing them down, soldering to the ground, even better, he got a chance to do it in front of his men too!
- Now, they shall see, your downfall, their Lord’s, complete collapse and how it looks like when you are taken by none other than me, not your usual Targaryen! For it is the privilege that soon will be showered upon you! You are mine! – Robb spat at him, maddening Targaryen so, having him belong to the House! They are going to own his trueborn blood! He is relying on what remained inside him, merely, the unbreakable stamina that could make it, overtake when everything else betrays him, but never to fail himself. It was pathetic, but somehow, yowling Grey who hungered to protect his Master with the Dragon hatchlings of nine weren’t able to pass through Caraxes, it was too much demonic and far too big to tackle directly. His people of the North were out of their senses. What is going on?!

Robb feels it, no, he won’t cry out! NO! Daemon snatched both his hands in his large one and with the free hand he decides to proceed by pushing his pants down, unbuckling, unclasping every metal piece and throwing it aside all the while Robb’s squirms and threshes in his almighty hold.

- Listen to me, hard or easy way, it makes no difference to myself, I love it either way, you are the one who is pleasing my satisfaction, making it far more irresistible for me to ever resist the sin, for we are the fallen breed of people as you may see in all our glory and fame! It is in our birth, our legacy, the godly right to possess you all! And with you, even my Stark genes will be devoured by the Dragon! Burned and eaten! Yield, Stark! So your House fall with you! – Robb is on the verge of showing bitter tears, burning his fair skin, fighting them hopelessly along beastly Prince, he is living in the moment, no thinking, this is isn’t how it is supposed to be, he is present, just like Jon Snow taught him when all is falling apart, in the same manner when he was overwhelmed by the Dragon illness, stay focused, don’t think about anything else, just what is in front of you, find your chance, discover the odd, grab and strike with it!

Daemon is feral, his wild side is visibly coming out, what is inwardly him so awakening, his lavender color is deepening, sharp and long fangs are protruding, and it seems like all the beauty is still there during which the scaly surface is becoming transparent under the human looking skin. Lizards?! f*cking lizards?! Targaryens are nothing but the hordes of lizard people?! Reptilian and amphibian characteristics they share with their founding foundations, the base underneath something that only looks humanly. The humanoids they are still.

- You know what is funny?! Slavery. It never disappears completely, just changes its shape, so now, look at me, you accursed human! See my reality! You are not to be attached to the world that isn’t yours, anymore, not you, nor humanity within your emotions!

Having seen what is there to be. Smothering it is, for there is no greater thrill than raping the equal of self. From the safe distance, the 9, Grey and his people yearned to do something, think of anything, say or help, save him, but the Blood Wyrm keeps his last stand if necessary, against anyone who even tries to meddle in with his Dragon rider’s mission. Robb Stark sensed it, abruptly, as the darkest of the white winds. The blunt thuds inly his chest.

- You have one more opportunity, it doesn’t need to be this way, I could always just parade you across my streets, just f*cking, submit, my Stark.

This did it, doing him a favor, because only then, Daemon immediately like he burnt himself goes up, removing his body from the Young Wolf, evading what is occurring in front of everyone’s eyes, even the animals, every leaf, the sadly quivering of nature was atrociously breathing alike the resembling breath of the Winter, due to Robb’s transformation that got even the most infidels into the believers, not of the heresy, for there were no heretics on that day, just the blood of the Wolf, for this was the wolvish blood indeed, in a single yowl, the longest cry and with the dash of the spilled drops, prior to the complete metamorphosis. In front of Prince Daemon, their Great Dragon Lord, stood a man with the head of the Wolf. Yes, Wolf Head as Stark!

- And it speaks, it lives! This is unreal! – the Great Targaryen is left with no words, this was the pinnacle of Warg anthropomorphism! He deemed those were just one of unnumbered fairy tales, the bedtime stories you speak to your children prior to going to their sleep, back to dreams of the dreamlands, in the meantime, at the same moment, the massive menacing and striking rain came back, enshrouding with the black clouds, sundering the blue skies, starting to pour down on all them as it was howling out loud, like it was of the wolf temper likewise, but this was real, the pure work of Mother Nature in all her creativity and unspoken artwork, as unique as Robb Stark! His voice is the deepest abyss, raspy and reverberating, and his Northerly people were thrown into the enthralled trance, Grey Wind got elated from the tips of his enormous paws to the end of his grayish tail and the 9 felt on top of the world. His strength is amplified, the agility is otherworldly and the speed is with no measure. It was the mudding downpour. For his intelligence is doubled and reflexes equal Dragon’s.

- How do you like me now? Nothing to say, out of words, so fast? Downright outrageous and unheard of! – You…you are magnificent! Robb! I definitely…I am so sorry! Now, YOUR FALL WILL BE FOR US mightier! This is the lifetime battle that is worth of the thousands moons! And it is all mine and mine alone! – the obscured excitement startled even Caraxes, his red dragon but not Robb who looked just as good as a human, and now, as an anthropomorphic humanoid.
Jon Snow is the only whose face line is lightened up, the small victorious smile is spread and he laughs to himself, heartily. When he saw that Robb can’t ever match him, so, what kind of chance he had against one enormity such as was Glorfindel’s son? At that time, they agreed to center Robb’s training at what he was good at, not to lose any hour on something he will never be good sufficiently, hence, the idea is reborn and this was the outcome, for Robb took Ice back which is pieced together, looking as new, compelling Daemon to pick up his twin cutting edges. Fire and Blood, for the twins were glowing in the ringing timbre, very deep and solemn. Now, this was the life combat he waited eternally, that is worth fighting for honor.

What enkindled the Warg transformation into the humanoid Wolf, was the idea of feeling the golden cage, he never felt enslavement on his own skin, but the very notion of it, awakened all his fears, as if he was coming back home where he didn’t want to. And just as Jon Snow, in the most pressing hour, learned how to hear from the great distances, to listen, speak, convey and receive, so was Robb Stark in the most awakening point of his suffering and vile desperation to achieve something beyond self, resulted in the aftermath that nobody could predict. Howsoever, his family is coming to his side.

Prestige and felicity, it was always oceandeep. Only you made me feel my first fear rightly, in every way and ever. Waited for you all my life, for you to end as the most worthy rival of mine unknowingly, deserving, unexpectedly, you are different from all I ever felt for someone or situation, my Stark.
At least, you healed faster and got your pants back on, from everyone to hide, not to be heard or watched. Humiliation was merely delayed, my Robb...
His siblings with their direwolves are jumping across cliffs and hills, hurrying to their brother Robb. Hang in there! Hold on. Do not give up to your last.
*
Just wait, when our King comes, untrue or false, crying the tears of blood, not giving you one, delivering you all, served and intact was the sin of God.
*
Marzipan flavor is smelt in the lonely distance.

Chapter 17: Dark beauty struggles with fairies

Chapter Text

Water, the shimmering lake of the bloating bubbles are springing up and among them, the mysterious rekindling was coming to pass. The spirit of the Lake is woken and she was sensing his coming. The Lady wasn’t Enchantress, nor she was Sorceress or any of the sort, she was the sister of Fae Queen Mab, the sovereign over fairies and dark faes. At one point, Mab showed her silhouette to the bewitching water, without waiting for the response, she drew back further into her darker kingdom that was on the opposite side of Mordor where shadows lie and she was the one who was keeping her own stand against the forces of Celebrimbor, the one who was sustaining the memory from oblivion of all humankind.

For she is the one who serves humanity, both the ugly and the good side, in all its beauty and immeasurable ugliness she was at the disposal for anyone who implored of her anything the sentient being aspired to get, she never refused anyone except the Dark Lord. Celebrimbor. Once, he came to her, to ask the services of hers, Lord of the Rings. For the power of the One Ring, indeed couldn’t be undone, he tempted her, drawing her out. There she stood, in front of her darkening castle in only the purple dress with the dark lavender locks which she kept in the loose ponytail, this is how she preferred and sometimes, the twisted braids replaced a crystalline diadem, of her captivating plaits which served as the slithering vipers above her head, were substituting her majestic crown.

- Mab, I am glad to meet you. – You are the one who lives in shadows, who hides behind his wraiths – she veils herself behind one of the older trees, just for him to undo her cover, for her to be bare before his power and potency. – You know why I came. – What if I do not give it to you, the most beautiful of Elves? – You flatter, that place belongs to Glorfindel’s son and his daughter.

- They are elven Targaryens.

- Still, we both know you lie. I am one of Elves who is more similar to humans by my appearances than others of my kind. – It doesn’t mean you have no your charm. It is of the black matter and your heart is shadowed by my deep, shadowy voice of a woman who knows you intend to kill if she doesn’t comply your will or abide by your whims.

- You have your own magical mirror. I wish to see one woman, she came of age, grown into adulthood. King’s daughter. – The North that caresses your desires, the one whose eyes of the clear emerald is shining through the night and her fire tresses are lightening the night, putting aflame, for merely in raw flames her charming smile comes to light. – Yes.

- Your One Ring doesn’t conform to your commands? – It serves the darkness, you serve both lightness and the dark. My aunt Galadriel is a selfish woman, I know her that much. – She is wise beyond your understanding. – And yet, you are older than even her. You were here, observed always from shadows, watched and learned. Without any meddlesome nature, you are the proud Protector of Mother Nature, the chocolate skinned woman whose coat is made of human dreams. – Thank you for your finery and esteemed flattery, your charmed aura has no bounds, as I said, but no. She is a mortal human girl and you are a full – blooded Elf, so that you know what it means, the one who has no any claim to even see her face. Her life is short, leave her to live it full as she is. – No force can stop me. That knows even God, for I manipulate his will. You are denying me?

- Yes. You confirmed it yourself. I am the oldest entity of human future and past. I was here even when the first of the Afterborns were to dream. If Valar are on Elven Side, our mutual Allfather made it sure that my reliable vassals, enchanted creatures and witching denizens of fairy origins are on a side of humanity. You may ask of me, anything you desire, but human beings are out of your reach. My service is for humans. Not you. – That is your bleak answer? – Valar Morghulis. – Pathetic, such a weak woman, your knees quiver. I will come for you as well as I will for you all, one day. I will take your sister away from you. The one who is the sheltering cove for the imagined God’s Spirit in the Sword of the Blessed Light that is integrated into the history of Men. Excalibur. She is to one day through her shiny lake water give it to the chosen who must put it into the stone so that only the true King of all Kings may pull it out from there. He is to choose which stone! It is foreshadowed that it is going to be Targaryen? Which one?! – You are vain. You can’t kill us! We are Endless! I am the epitome of incarnation. My sister is a Soul and Hearts.

She can hide her fear as long as One Ring is quiet, but if he uses it on her, which he did, all her epiphany of the violet and epitomized energy of cosmos engulfed her and has flown as the Force Shield against the bottomless mightiness and the majesty of glazing splendor that emanated One Ring. For the desperate Blood Witch as her sister is, fought equally pressingly, feeling that she can overthrow but never in the long run, this is power of the One Ring.

- So, you are not that easy to buy, no answers I will attain from you – he stopped it, and the enlightening spectacle fell back from her lighter aura!

Playing the villain, the necessary evil never was in her plans. Is this the feeling of being in his presence? Feeling fatigued, but never giving him pleasure!

- Are you not scared of me? My Lady? - No, Lord Celebrimbor.

- You should and you will be – causing cold tremors to run down her bloodstream, certainly, he was intimidating as stories foretold. – And no, you are not going to pass shadow knowledge down on your sister, you are going to give it to her personally, not through magic, like the sweet kiss that rests unto your glistening forehead. So, now, I am going to list the most powerful telepaths there are and one of them must be the one who is putting the Sword in the Stone. First and the most world known is Galadriel, the Lady of Light, Witch – Queen of Lorien during the Prime of Eden, it still bears the name. Next, Arwen, her granddaughter and the High Queen of the United Kingdoms of Men. After her but not necessarily by the same order, Swan Prince of Gondolin, Ecthelion, among is High Prince, Emperor’s Son, Celegorm, following Targaryen full–blooded twins. Baelor, High Priest and High Lord who specialized in spiritual energy and Maekar, King Bee and the Great Lord who uses the matter of the same and the last, but not the least, Visenya Targaryen, Dragon Queen and Dragon Lady among Lords. That’s it. Answer me. Who of those is the one? Or there is another whom I missed? – That subspace, interspace you are never going to feel in or find out. – You are putting yourself in a compromising position so.

Realizing he can’t win her, for now. Darkly his smile is spread upon the elvish visage, retreating into his shadows and only then, she is relieved only to in a matter of seconds bump into the firmest body she ever experienced, eyeing up, looking at the golden sunshine that is glowing even when there are merely stars. Glorfindel of the Golden Flower wasn’t the most beautiful, but he had that style and alluring aura of his. In his formal attire of his own House, of the royal green that is damascened by the pure interwoven threads of gold, he was the beauty that is savored. What is he doing here and for what reason?! Wait, did perhaps…of course. Celebrimbor would never leave her alone, but he fell back because of him. He still fears power of God Elf.

- Aren’t you handsome? My Prince of Gondolin? – he smiled lightly, illuminating everyone around him. – You should visit us. I am almost sorry for that Darkness that has left you behind and that I need to be the one who releases such a lovely lady from her distress. – I hold it by my own strong character. – Yes, you all say that, anyway, there, in my Gondolin, are notoriously the very verdant lives of our rightfully compliant and proper human citizens who finally became the integral part of our society, and only what is asked in return is their full submission or how humans love to say, bending the knee to the authoritative regime of ours. Very well they are made to integrate under our laws and the elven rule.
It is distasteful to her how he speaks of the human beings as they are just the possessions of his. The property over whom only he got ownership to own.

- They are the sentient kind, Lord Glorfindel.
- Of course, that is why I hunt them and love so much, especially the Happy Times with them I offer so delightfully and without price. – No happy times here. – You are no fun. You ruin it all. – Regarding from where, for whom you come, for I see it in you, I won’t start it but inquire why did you come. Anyone who reaches for my threshold has something in his or her plans sowed.

For in the dancing, always the man is the one who leads, and the man such as Glorfindel is nothing but the disguised patriarch who reminds you of fact.

- In the end, it is true what they say, they may be higher or greater than you, but when you appear, everything else falls to your shadow, Glorfindel of the Golden Flower. – You know me too well and so, meet my newly obtained human! – like a little boy, it almost disgusted her, but this was Glorfindel they are speaking about and she never can stay for a very long angry with him, stunning her just how much he allures you to have dreams of running your fingers through his elfin tresses of the sunshiny white, it is why it is called the seduction of Elves, the art in which they use both their voice, body and the unseen, the craft by which they are unsurpassed by anyone, but mostly, all is in the hands and fingers, the very arms because of which, they named them their tools of flesh pleasures, having no shame whatsoever.

Because of it, it is why they relish touch among everything else that surrounds. The sensual intellect and emotional intelligence that borders on a spiritual experience is all theirs and now he presents her by introducing her name, it is the reason why they are doing things their ways, why possessing the ability in where they christened all of their sins that are being mastered by what they call littlefingers so. Be of gentle birth or the common – born, doesn’t matter as long as they take, claim and seize to possess and make own. – Meet my Great Lady Melisandre or just Milady who hails from the Empire of Dawn, yes, Avalon, the New Camelot – who showed herself from shadows, uncloaked, unhooded for her to take her all in, and unveiled, bare she stands before Fae Queen Mab. – She is a good human, but I have no use of her like this, I can’t exploit. She is broken, tamed, humbled, but her spirit is subdued. I need your help and in return, you receive a more than good student for yourself. She is letting you see all of her. What do you think?

She heard of the Red Priestesses, the shadowbinders and she is in the terrible need for another witch to her coven. What Glorfindel offered for the cooperation can’t ever be rejected and so, the Pact was forged. And the way he addressed her, it means only one thing, it is starting. She must speak with her sister, Lady of the Lake. Waiting for some time until the hour is ripe and ready to be harvested.

Not choking in her respective despair, where everything what she did until now was despairing, but no more, he had given her the natural weapon she can utilize to further and deepen the Wheel of Time and Space. Hastening the act how blood flows. We return to future days where Lady in the Lake heeds her sister’s call, reveals to gift her counsel.
*
Interpret the timeline of Future Past and Days of the Present, let my skin feel the light breeze, let it caress me, the answer to why, it is lying in ambition.
It bleeds, and it couldn’t be…unmade.

Chapter 18: Grey Winds

Chapter Text

She was here with the howl. Bolstered by her transcendental appearance, she appears before her sister Mab who was longingly waiting for her answer that finally came, she would never show it or confess it, but she was very glad she could gaze upon the heavenly countenance that had no smile and no worry at the same time, still, all what was resting upon her gentle shoulders was very much as the back of hers, weighted down, so she gave her answer.

- Sister, I am merry for your audience you are giving me – Mab is hopeful unlike the Lady of the Lake who was solemn and tenebrous. – My little sister, we are forgotten and our power fades with the time that is forsaking everyone who are not remembered. – There is still Time for us, all of the world! I am certain… - No, no one can tell for sure, every war, battle or struggle is changing the course of the world, but these two men, who fight now, will define our future. – Trueborn of Ned Stark?! – Why do you sound so surprised, he earned all what he was given and he is suffering right now. His power is not enough. – Then…how?! Do I need to intervene? Does God who speak through you is asking of my interference or?

- No, leave it be, I am saying this to you, so you might not consider what I do not utter. Do not help. Let it happen, whatever it must be. – I will never allow for the mankind to fall! It is my duty! This is why I asked from you, among everyone, to aid me! – Mab, you are still so young, younger than me. And I am here from the Time when there was no Time, not what you call space, neither God as we perceive him now. As you said, I am Endless, but you are still just a budding flower. – Sister. Nimue…I beg you! – Now, you must be strong and bear both the foul suspense and repulsive anticipation even for the Immortal such as you are, my dear. – No. I do not accept it. What about Excalibur, the one that will determine the King among the Kings of all of the Men?! Who will place it on the stone?! I know that Daemon has it, but it is not his to… - He believes he is Azor Ahai. I gave him, yet, I didn’t voice it. Even now, he is coming to his own conclusions why I gave it to him, not because he is the One, but he is chosen to choose for whom and what to do it. He interpreted my intentions…wrongly.

- It means, we wait?

No response this time, Nimue went underneath her glimmering lake above which she was floating like the ghost that forever lives and never disappears, leaving Mab to trust fate while faithful Grey to death and blood grew impatient with every passing minute along with the 9 and their people, it was as if they are meant to witness birth of something unknown that is either Death or total rebirth, for each companion takes people of his owner as theirs too.
- You are no match even now! – still in the lizard build that is with more than easiness confronting every strike, each attack or the stroke of luck, even then, Ice wasn’t penetrating, it was just deflecting, forcing Robb to defend himself while he did both, defense and attack as the best retort to the beautiful hopelessness he enjoys and draws from Wolf Stark who is breathlessly trying to get up, only for both Fire and Blood to hit back.

He couldn’t do it anymore. He is giving in. No…no…it lasted for a short time and once again, he is just Robb Stark all the while Daemon is triumphant over his shuddering body that is fighting not to collapse from within. No, not like this. And Daemon was doing what was unspeakable to even utter, taking the hilts of both cutting edges with which he fiercely was smiting Prince Robb Stark with the blow after blow. In the surviving stance, Robb brought Ice above his head. Up high and took all of its overcoming power upon himself, Ice didn’t break this time, neither it cracked, it withstood but Robb was the one who fell down, unable to stand up whilst Prince Daemon in all the fancy liberation, stomped upon his body with no mercy, ruthlessly dissecting any notion that this was the human indeed.

He warned him, not delivering even the slightest of the respite, no rest and no break, just killing the life out of him if he doesn’t yield to the authority and majesty of the House of the Dragon, however, Robb was still there, holding out as a hero, never sure where this strength and energy is coming from, he exhausted all of his resources, what kept him on was the famous Will of the North, in his human form that lasts longer than the wolf shape of his is in no way superior or rivaling ever the Targaryen notorious Prince, yet, this is the very reason why he had nothing to lose. With every punch and hit, he was losing his consciousness, it was getting grimmer, but he stood firm, resisting on. He had to or he is losing everything he ever fought for, all is falling into the water, never giving up the hold of Ice, he still held it with both hands while Daemon even straightened him up on his knees, pushing up the seized nape of his neck, thus showed him to the crestfallen People of North. Crying out!

- Is this the man you want to follow? To have for one of your Kings? For one of your leaders?! Is this is how it is to be, then, if you do not aspire to watch it how I maul him to the end, plead him to stop it! Make him stop and it will be done so! Unless, you wish to lose even the first and trueborn son of the Great Lord Stark! Of your own King, Afterborns! Beg him to bend the knee to the Firstborn! Beg and he is going to live on.

The safe reaches weren’t seemed so safe to them, no more, echoing through. Grey howls, Caraxes is roaring, a mix of raging and Dragon roars which are freezing death in your blood systems, the 9 are answering back, giving their bellowing response to no avail. It was the impossible situation and among themselves, the Northmen were puzzled.
If they attack, all is gone, if they just stand and watch, they are cowards, and the third option broke out to the stark amusem*nt and elated joy of Daemon who most of all is savoring the smallest things which make the life and fulfill even the simplest joys, turning them into something you can complement and live throughout even during the grandest of the rainstorms, it is all down to you, Robb Stark, bend to me.

- And all your suffering fades alongside the unbearable torment – whispers, just to his sheer puzzlement Robb forestalls him. – Do not implore for my life! This Targaryen dog! This is who he is and always was! He is my sister’s husband, I acknowledge, but in no way, do not plead him as I shall not! Once you do, the Northmen will never be what they were before, losing the last shred that keeps your dignity untainted. Do not give in to him, not even by the feeling or idea, there is no – struggles for breath – honor in losing your nerve! – he got punched just to shut him up, breaking almost the entire face of his that was the mess which even whimpering Grey couldn’t endure to hold on. – Yield you all or your Prince dies, this is the last chance, before you all, I AM CUTTING HIS HEAD! Not by a sword in the full and one swing, but slow, so you can watch how it is done when it is exacted by Targaryen ways! Imposing on you what doesn’t need to be asserted, you are freed if you submit yourselves.

Deep and even deeper, the gaping pit was looking back at the bottomless darkness that was howling from the Black Woods, calling him, everyone is wet, it was thunderous and grim. Sickening to watch how he coughs blood in Targaryen’s unforgivable grip, ultimately defeated, the defeat he wasn’t acknowledging, never will. He was Wolf and he dies as one, as the father…before him. Then, he had to take care of everything, now, it was his turn to die the honorable death no matter how gruesome it will turn out to be. Father. It is hard to be a man, now I see why. Women don’t have anything to prove, we do.

With the last of us who are enduring, all what is staying behind is just the cleansed snow unto the wastelands. My death will bring out what is necessary for Northmen to stay Northmen, even if it means that we all perish, the North, regardless of how much the white winds blow, will never bow or kneel. Never to the Fire and Blood. Starting to fight that lizard hand that holds him so strong, only for Targaryen to push his face onto the icy soaked snow for the snowy flakes are turned into the thundering rainfall once more. Ordering him to stay down and the more he was forceful, the more his men remained silent and watched.

With each image he grew in their hearts, they will remember, carve it into their souls, unaware, without realizing he is making martyr out of Robb Stark. Someone to be remembered, never forgotten or forsaken, in all his maddening state, for the North was so irritable and infuriating to bear. It was a slow death, Robb held his vehement, bitter tears in, can’t free himself, letting Daemon take it all out on him. Feels that the demise was advancing.

Grey Wind rushed toward his side only for the blacked dragon fire stops him from getting any stop closer, snarling with all his might, jumping through, being burned in doing so, let him die with his Lord, heavily burned, yet staying alive, surviving so, the heaviest tribulation that one wolf could withstand, approaching Prince Targaryen who looked at him by scornful intimidation but Grey Wind won’t move, let him be with him to the end, he is dying. He will with him.

- Who am I to deny your last wish, Grey Wind. I admire and praise your loyalty for which you die together with him, for such is the fate of our companions, it always follows the destiny of your Owner. He was very good to you, I just hope it will be approved for you to stay together too, to cross that path jointly, never to be asunder. You did what even Dragons do not dare, you always treaded that thin line between Hell and Heaven, for it, I salute you, this is the end, his choice and yours won’t be taken from you. Here, come closer, I won’t land the mortal strike, this is your last time with him – thus it was, Grey Wind, between whimpers, agonized howling and wailing sadness, first nudged, then licked and finally laid down next to him, covering him whole, to keep his warmth as long as he could before the death doesn’t come to take him too, the wetness wasn’t a bother, he was just happy he is here with him, to the end as it should be, his eyes are closing. Nothing matters, Ice is still...held.

He actually never let it go. Rains turned into snow, enshrouding them both. At the first sign of Grey’s death, it stirs Robb from the inevitable death with all of his organs smashed, blood lost and the broken bones, however, upon Wind’s dying, he baffled everyone present. From his 9 miraculously hatched hatchlings to his Northern people, and finally, Daemon’s face was unpredictable because Robb got up to the very astonishment of all of people!

- I WILL NEVER GIVE UP! YOU HEAR ME! I WILL MAKE YOU DO IT FOR WHAT YOU IMPOSE ON ME! – how?! No words to say.

To no end, this man was amazing everyone. Why does he insist on, so much to best him?! From where he draws the remaining stamina?! HE had none left. Literally none, he was half dying, half-living man, he is speaking to the dead person already. The one who is leaning onto his Ice, father’s and King’s hereditary witching sword, inherited and supernaturally greatly mystical blade that possesses no limits when used by the chosen to wield as it is the only that is keeping him human, whiles Grey glances up, his willpower is returning to him. What is occurring?! He felt it, howls mightily, standing up too. It is coming! Everyone is abashed. Feeling lost. What is this!? He should be…but he was not! What does it mean?! And from somewhere distant, she was watching what is taking place. It is bound to happen and come to pass. The Lady of the Lake is transformed back into the snow, waiting for it to occur.

The overshadowing howl in the snow, reviving sacrifice, magic of Dark Blood, chanting is listened from someplace, where even Death wasn’t daring in.
Warlord’s revival and Overlord’s evocation, bleeding out…mudding the sloshing mire. It is freezing the Seven Heavens and a song of all Wolves alike is harkened from every side, all around, in each direction, everywhere, people are watching how the Sun was eclipsed by the moonbeams, for it is the moonshine that was the harbinger of forewarning the birth of the one who rivals the power of the Night King whose House is nightfall. His is daybreak.

In the wake of the first light, on the eve of the nightshade, in the blood, for the good man who has nothing to lose anymore, from him you create Devil.
Designing in silence, all is comprising in you across sinless stars, over the smiling blackened clouds, let me stay by your side. Do not reject me, my Lord…
My duty to the unmeant Great King is fulfilled, opposing, resisting to the end, outmatching, equaling even when there is no hope, I was Grey Wind of Starks.
*
The Undying Lands…harkened you well. I will heal with my resistant, protective fur, curling up beside you, oozing my energy shield all around you to keep you warm, snug and safe.
Even so, no High or Great Prince I am, just the Prince, the High Lord or just Lord who wanted to protect the North, just as once my King, the Great Lord, Great Ned Stark once did, I won’t ever be of the Great, remaining the Master, Owner and Liege of Direwolves. Of all kinds and Wolves was the Lady Mother Wolf. My Lady, our Supreme Matriarch of all.
We are not kept women.
For unnatural mothers are unconquered.
I am discerning the signs on the road, follow my doom, I know the events, but no one knows, actually,
How.
In the time of great need, even in greater wisdom of ours, we will know the way without sin.

Chapter 19: Entranced by a hard heart

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To calm you down, Elves use the stroking of your lavished lips. Soothing and comforting simultaneously. The same as you are, because on one side it is experienced for knowing what it means to be human and on the other, feeling the touch of the fallen skies, is another. Doing something what was done to you, even though you are also of the same matter. The child in between of both realms, in the way of something that is looking rightly back at you so.

- This is your final, Robb. Die as a human or die as my plaything, there is no third alternative – from his flattened plume, due to the severity of heat that his body emanates, that is rivaling the Dragon fire, upon the touch of him, the melted snowflakes were running down his armored faceguard which is outlining the lower visible part of his face while the deep and darker shades of lavender are dancing in his ruthless irises, he will bend or be slain. Either way, it is his win. But, in the corner of his black heart, it would be such a pity to have Robb Stark killed or mangled in any way. Why?! Why Starks need to be such obnoxiously full of themselves?! What is wrong with them?!

- Do you in fact even hear me?! Your Grey might even live, I see he is healing himself – not with his tongue, it is only possible for another, but on its own, he is mending faster than it should be the case, because, after all, he felt the fire of his giant Blood Wyrm that is far more different from your usual dragon, for in the end, not all Dragons are the same, they are all different, distinct and unique life forms, whether new or old, either ways they are the existences of their own.

- Oh, I hear you…Daemon, but you know what is funny?! – before Daemon’s eyes, something was coming to pass.

- What is it, Robb? – I might in fact come to like you. If I haven’t felt it, I would never know…you haven’t only become mortal, you are human too under that lizard skin of yours, like, everything what you buried, it is just right now plainly much distinctive than before. You are a full human with the human heart, gaining all powers of the Dragons and neither one weakness of humanity. You are truly the Prime example of your father’s success as his chimera son. You are perfect – to the Great Dragon, everything grows dim…the Dragon Lord is thinking, this man…at the brink of death found his courage, for he proved that he isn’t the one he looked for in the equality, but the one he was needful of, the one he actually deserved so, bringing down his twin swords.

- Give up, and all this nonsense and senseless killing shall stop.

- You are a mortal human now as well, you know how it ends…under that Dragon skin of yours, the blood of the Dragon runs thick – Robb looks up at the appalled face of the created Targaryen, made for the purpose not of war or the exceptional biological weapon, or any of the natural, no, it was out of Love to design Life, in this way, Glorfindel just aspired to be closer to his own Maker by modeling something as perfect as humanity itself in every way of darkness and lightness, consisting of both light and dark. From the cruelest, to the most compassionate. In his own image, on his honor by name.

Great Lord of Dragons knew then, Robb Stark always chooses death over the loss of freedom, he would never learn or be able to live in anyone’s golden cage and something indeed happened, the admiration and growing respect just flowed through the Prince Targaryen. Even when he was outnumbered, Robb hasn’t backed down, even when there was nothing but the black Inferno that waits, he has never given up hope, not even now, he is still standing, not waiting for the miracle, but believing in something higher than himself. When he is going to feel it or have it for self?! Who is going to bestow it upon him or he must endow himself alone?! He just keeps charging, marching and riding, fighting and conquering, occupying and for what.

- I beg you. I am bowing to you, Robb. Just…say a word, you don’t need to even bend the knee, just…SUBMIT, let it go. You proved it, there is nothing you can do. – The answer is NO! – And what the f*ck does that need to mean?! – Robb laughs wholeheartedly, everything hurt him, and yet never so sweet he had his last laugh as the man and what he said next cemented his fate utterly, unsettling to the core, him, whose blood is of Blood and Fire, that runs fiery. – The North knows no King but the King in the North whose name is Stark. And you are not a Wolf, you chose to be Dragon, Stark. The North remembers. He is our King from the first day until his last, this is not what it means to be a man, but Wolf.

Great Prince Daemon Targaryen in all his despair that he could muster, indeed stormed to decapitate him, only for him to sense how his twin swords, Fire and Blood are being…blocked. What the?! He glanced clearly at what occurred at that time, in that place, for the eclipse was gone, Sun is back, taking with it all of the shadows and the fell shade, from the most grandiose splendor, the brilliance of the radiant glow, beyond Life, emerged ICE! The King’s sword, the patrilineal ancestry, Ned’s blade that he gave to his son just because it was deemed as another tradition, but the Old, Sly wolf, the Great One among the greatest ever known, knew the Dark, what is laying in his son, the potential of Robb Stark, in the ancestral blood of Starks, it is the secret masked, the one that can even surpass the Dragon fire, and it was glittering as the grandest fire of all fires, coating in the Sun’s flame that can’t be matched even by the Dragons or Devil’s wrath. LIGHTBRINGER!

Ice was always disguised Lightbringer. Robb expected a served Death and in his hands which instinctively reacted, putting up to halt, just for him to feel the power of…oh God, he was Azor Ahai!? It is not possible, for that, it is required a sacrifice of your beloved. But, doesn’t it mean the person you love or sleep with?! No, it is soul mate. Who is the first he thinks of when he wakes up, Grey Wind, what it would be his last in the mind? Grey Wind. Then he remembers more reasonably while all of his blood is curing his state, reverting to the previous, even greater than before, because Grey Wind, when he started to die, his will for life returned to him, it was trickling all the way through the blackened clouds, it was his hope he never gave up until the end, this was it?! He looks back, directly and straightforward at Grey Wind who seemed older than before. He absorbed his vitality and he still stood tall and proud?! Strongly and mightily as how only the Direwolf could! To the skies and back to earth.

- All your life, potent endurance is back?! This is…no...NO! – Daemon is losing self, while the Northmen, at first, witnessing such a miracle, were passing as tongue tied and then, between enlightened faces, enraptured cheers, hail of chants and rooting for one name. – AZOR AHAI, AZOR AHAI, AZOR AHAI! – and the Grey Wind howled, outshining even Caraxes’s roar while all the 9 were breaking the control of the Red Wyrm!

Daemon dashed, only for both Twins to be shattered into pieces, falling on his knees in the disbelieved bewilderment, the extreme astonishment, for it touched the ground, splintered into the dust, Valyrian Steel had no equal but the equal that has no parallel in Lightbringer. It was a Sword of God that is given every single time when one ordinary human being, not extraordinary except with the given name, let go of his pride and gives to another his due, only when Robb took Jon Snow as his Prime King, only then and now, the ritual was complete, all the massive enchantment, elated euphoria, and enrapturing thrills ceased after which is revealed the one who matches Night King’s Power of the Dead and White Walkers. It could never be, it is why his father was so adamant for him to break the wheel and accept someone who is not theirs and still was more Wolf than any other Wolf on this planet.

Jon Snow, the Dragon and Wolf. Containing in self what makes up of the world. Then and only then, Azor Ahai will rise to balance the harmony of the Seven Realms, including the whole Arda and the inhabitation of Children of Iluvatar. The World of Men. His Northmen were so invigorated, felt motivated beyond beliefs, got mind blown, so, upon their noble and loyal companions, together are rushing across the plain, muddy fields to the Prince! Long live the King with The Secret of the Sword! The Cradle of Civilization. Fear the one you should never awaken, the one who was hopeless all his life, the one who had nothing but a belief in God, who harbored no trust for self, the one who had nothing and everything, that was divination of Azor Ahai. A dying Empire can learn to be among the living through virtue. If anything else, humans do not use telepathy, but always the sign language stays the speech and tongue of the oppressed.

Chapter 20: Today

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In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made, without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was Life, and that light was the Light of Men. The Red Messenger is returning, heralding the Return of the Dragons that bring magic with them and there they are, we came. Breaches, enlightens and falls apart, crossing sundering seas and after the initial shock, the unbelief became the tears of happiness, after all the struggles, revolting torments and suffering beyond graves, he cried the reviled tears, it was always inward him fostered. He was Azor Ahai. Oh, father, why did you keep me in the dark? All of us?! Cold and distant was your light, interleaved blood is recovering, tissues are healing whiles strings of fate are coming back. In the end, proving to be no match, but more to Daemon Targaryen, to the Dark Prince more than ever.

The Dark son as the dark Daughter of God. He thought, so, this is for what it is. Now, I understand. Thank you, Allfather. For this fruitful chance I have waited and lived for, all my life for deception like this, that turned into a dream, the challenge fitting of my majesty. His reaction after the broken twins is getting antagonizing and thrilling, elated to the brim, for he did strike where it hurts the most because the soiled land was quaking and tremendously shaking under the feet and paws or hooves of human companions, echoed thunderously throughout the gory battlefield, the battle cries of men were coming to aid with not reason on the mind and out of fear, they are going straight to the Seven Hells for their Prince Young Wolf! It is all true, he lives among them!

Just as the Night King and so was Azor Ahai! But, abruptly, their short merriness was shadowed by him! The Dark Prince, the Prince of Darkness is splitting before them the whole Earths! From the North Pole, to the South, only now, beholding what it meant to be the Great Prince of Targaryens.

Dividing with the thundery and deafening immensity of the Power, the very land before them, it was opening the biblical chasm that was ripping through skies and lower grounds, all the way to the center of Arda who wailed from the force unbeknown to the Mortal World. The Whole World is shaking, unsettling even his Father Glorfindel. Bolton, all upset, has asked.

- What is it?! What is happening?!

- Hold on to me! Blackie the Behemoth! You too! – they did and Glorfindel smirks.

- That is my Son! He is just a little nervous!

The Riders had no other way but to go along! They are going to jump! There is no way they are able to stop now, when so close. Yes, on the other side, the Blood Wyrm and Fire is awaiting but they are having the 9 and even if not, they are believing just like he was!

With the light hearts, nothing to hold them down, horses, wolves and other comrades, leapt in the air like they are flying, while beneath them, only the prying hole is their comfort which is widened by every inch further, they are all going to die, but the Power of Azor Ahai is not that easily diminished now, not ever again receding, he stopped Daemon by striking back on him while he is barehanded, only that he wasn’t, with the Full Mightiness in both armored arms which he used as the shield over his Dragon Helm, he halted Ahai’s leverage, repelling it back to him, making Robb Stark to fall down, blown away, hitting his resilient back, bruised heavily, very badly even though he is armor clad too.

Learning the first lesson in life, just because he gained a Faculty of God, it doesn’t mean that he still handles it or knows how! Which means, Daemon still possessed more than just one ace up his sleeve, now the real battle begins, everything else was just warming up, the foreplay. The true Game of Thrones.

However, he achieved that every soul and the last beat of heart succeeds to skip over the staring black gap that resembled the Mouth of the Devil, and they are onto Caraxes that is readily blowing the Hellfires of the most grotesque and nightmarish stream of Black Death, taking everything with him, everyone. The Dark Dread that had no heed for the Portal anymore.

Without it, he was blasting through the humanly and mortally wounded dimensions, delivering such the blazing Abaddon, setting aflame everything that touches only for the 9 to accomplish reclaiming their previous powers, prior to being worn off by the mesmerizing glare of Caraxes, for now, it was all in the past and together with the brave and mad Northerly people, alongside the joined Forces, assaulted the Feral Blood Dragon, fire against the fire encountering feistily, against the Crimson One, who let out such the ascending bellow that it is similarly to the swaying, resonating tide heard from God and to the ends of worlds from Halls of Mandos, even God of Death grows upset, something that never reckoned to happen so, and yet, in this age and the space, everything was possible.

The Mortals are changing the Face, all over again, of Mother Earth!

They were unstoppable! Seeing for what it was, Daemon used this opportunity and magically retakes promptly his twin Swords back, each for one hand, once again in both hands, strong and firm, unmatched, skillfully manipulating and wielding equally with two as though he is using just one sword with one hand.

Watching the way Robb heals faster than before while he is in this state of the awakening, and yes, he restored Twins to the previous glory and even higher entwined possibilities of horrifying potencies, by the two hands of his, he attacks Robb Stark on the ground, just for him to either dodge or stop the attack, standing up, all of his possible reflexes of the human are enhanced and senses heightened, one on one he is with both hands holding his kindled Lightbringer against the Valyrian unprecedented Steel. Unrivaled even by the sturdiest of legendary Iron of Winter, yet, this was the Lightbringer, and still, couldn’t believe just how much impervious and repellent it is, both impenetrable and invincible that even bringer of light faced difficulties to confront such Twin Beasts!

- You are such a treat, the surprise of centuries! Robb Stark! – clenching the unbreakable teeth, for he never could imagine he is going to get fulfilled as he is now, all in him screamed, looking at Robb who was barely holding such the offensive jostle and the impulsive push as he was enduring Daemon’s, out of this world, indeed. So this was Glorfindel’s son in all his ways and images, a human in him is making him... mightier.

His North Dames and Knights are enforcing leaden shields anew, laden with pressures they bear which are now helping them survive Hellfires, the only ones that don’t need Portal or summoning by Dracarys from God Elf’s chimera, adopted son, a human slave child that is imbued with all of his will and blood just to spite and imitate the sole Head God, the supreme of all the highest. No longer dependent, if not one of the rarest, the one rare rarity that is defying the odds. How did he recreate his twin cutting edges?! Faintly enduring if not for the durability he obtained during a severe, searing and harsh training he owes to Jon, thanks to that, he is managing the most painful. The sparks from their singing and tip glowed blades are dancing away, gravely.

- You won’t take it any longer than this! There is still the time! Cave in for God’s sake! Bend yourself to me! – the depths of his evil voice is ICE.

To the last of days, even when he didn’t stand a chance, he never forfeited, he won’t even now when he was closer to something bigger than himself, with every aggressive, assaulting strike he was closer, paralleled to each defended stroke he was becoming confident, and by the final impact he would be freed, swinging to the finishing lines of this suspenseful battle. All of a sudden, Caraxes took the flight and the unrelenting 9 were after him, gliding, stormily swooshing, soaring up far away. Grey skies are raining green flames and inflamed balls are falling down from rekindled clouds alike the rain of falling stars, the comets and asteroids are in the full circle around Mother Earth, the change is to be satisfied to all’s awe, Jon Snow hears a bewitched outcry, his people are in the gravest danger ever!

Robb couldn’t save or protect them, the 9 weren’t enough with their broad wings to create vortexes, shields or acting as necessary eaves, from the farthest place, in his isolated dungeon cell, into the Far East, Snow is evoked from a dream, his invoking followed what is to ensue. Robb harked him with clarity in all dismay and dismayed circ*mstances, Jon is proud, now he takes over, telling to Robb not to surrender, keep up, do not move aside, he is going to take care of the rest whilst the combined meteorites of the Dragons are threatening to erase life.

I learned the way, how to fly away, do not panic, no longer…behind the dropped curtains. The spirits are waking up, the cataclysmic chaos is upon US.
God is there for us, with my people, by the Hope we trust in a better tomorrow. Side by side, in company with the wonder and miracle. Marvel the win. Rejoice!
He can’t break free of no avail, just yet, the underground confinements in where he was kept beside his fellowship, the Lone Pack. When he was just a newborn baby, life looked easier, and we are full of elan then, but how years are passing, we forget what we knew or had, he must remember it all over.
*
What do we say to God of Death?! Not today? Yes, today! Grey Wind healed completely, evading the unnatural calamity until searching the highest peak to climb and attack from there! Howling along, freezing all Life in your human mortal veins, in the most humanly way.

Swift and deadly! Walls of the World, beyond the winter that is not releasing its bonds, the frozen lakes are speaking among the freezing flowering of the wintry buds, upon which footsteps had passed.
*
Chimera Obsidian Dragon and the Black Three Headed is showing itself through the revealing and controlled embodiment of Targaryen’s skin.
Underneath…the human is breathing. And their shadows are intertwining…scaring the sh*t even of the bravest.
*
Full of all sorts of magic, are our Houses, embossed into instruments and tools of the Elven Haven.
*
Come…come to me, come back…to my insides, I am in you within as you are part of me.

Chapter 21: And so I spoke…

Chapter Text

Elves of all kinds are oddly enough extravagant in their interests, if they catch a hint of suicidal thoughts, the precautions are taken, and extremely disappointed, deeply unhappy and darkly depressed they are when there is a necessity of freeing the reins which are now your chains to bend.

Through white nights, embellished with mysterious clouds which are full of innocent snow, during darkling days, by hope, we are enduring the impossible, for the coldness in the eyes and warmness in your voice is foreshadowing that everything on that day stopped.

It was never the same after it, later on.

The Dragon flight of the 10 Dragons was the dance, one big play and even the bigger game by which the winged free beings are exploiting all of their assets and abilities to the utmost fullness where you have the inhabited freedom to do exactly what you want, throughout entrancing clouds and above the atmosphere, they were blowing at each other in the cosmological order because it was the 9 versus one, but that one fought like hundreds of them, bloody blow after blow, hit upon hit and down there, Robb Stark is seriously injured, his gravely wound is lethal and bluntly unpreventable to be hindered even for a moment, together with clutching at the open and raw wound that is leaking whiles using just one hand to fight Daemon was proving to be extremely difficult.

Slashing him across the stomach, for Valyrian Steel broke through his iron armor.

The Targaryen was the Beast of all Beasts! Impregnable and with no hope to stop him even as the reborn Azor Ahai who is through him again being brought to the life.

- The skies are red, this is our omen! It is raining our Dragon Fire! You stupid fool! GIVE UP! Is your life of so little worth that you are denying yourself to live actually?!

- You know nothing about me!? What the f*ck do you know?! I will tell you what I know! For what I had to really give upon! – both voices got bestial but Robb’s held far more barbaric in itself and again, that fear, the only specific that could extract his soul, produce such a feel like ever previously and cause for him to sense it as any other he ever truly felt.

Why?!

- Now, I am going to tell you the full truth. And it is not nice, it is vile and unsightly, very nasty, and yet, I am going to tell you. You see. Once upon a time, the boy was born, and everything was promised to him, everything what he desired is to be his, but suddenly, another boy comes and takes all what is to be by his birth offered, to him was lost, because he was showered and given all what is to be mine, to him, and not because he is the Trueborn as I am, but because he is the Bastard who didn’t just take it, he earned it, which meant, that all what is going on today, it is gained, and that is how the King is chosen, not by the Blood, but of the Deed, however, I still might get some chance, but how the days are passing, the boy is thriving and all my hope that I am going to prove myself equally is reduced to nothing. Why?! Not because it is hard to admit that someone is better than you in something, it doesn’t mean you are less, but it isn’t fair. For f*cking Jon Snow is Targaryen and how that is anyhow… FAIR AND SQUARE when you are only the human who fights the odds that were never on your side?! When you see how thrives even right now, what I had to sacrifice?! Just witnessing how he has it all, how someone is just by birth bejeweled with the golden spoon in his mouth, when he is gifted by everything what you can’t even dream. Yes, he is my King and no, I do not give up on him as my brother or King, but it doesn’t mean that I am acknowledging just because I had to, only because it is the truth from which we all run from. Well. I don’t. I can’t compare to either of you. But you know what?! I don’t care! I have my worth as you said. I value my skills just as you are valuing yours. You really think that is going to make me submit myself to you?! You are more than mistaken. You are far superior, but I am not worthless because of it. For you are so wrong, that I could write all the annals of this world and still, it wouldn’t be enough to express myself. Because of being just human, is never enough! People flock to Jon Snow because he is more, but to me, they are rallying because I am the only human who stood UP TO YOU without any f*cking dread. I see for what you are. What you are without your Dragon?! What you are without those experiments done on you?! What you are without your powers?! Take it all and what is left?! Just this crude matter of which we are all made, Targaryen. And so, every single time, you tell me to yield myself, is the favor you are doing to me. I would rather RIGHT NOW, ENDURE ALL OF DISMEMBERING, ALL OF SKINNING, WITHOUT EVEN A SHOUT, A SINGLE ONE – the biblical showers of burning skylines which are adding into the falling gifts of the same skies were so resembling a sole blaze of the most blazing, apocalyptic ambience, and yet, there is no higher fear for a human than what Robb very now feels – SOUND from me to have! For this is what it means for me to be Young Wolf. I am the Firstborn and Trueborn son of Ned Stark and this is something that one bastard Jon Snow can’t ever take from me. This is what hurts him the most. He can’t have my father as I own my bloodline. For I am the true Wolf and he is nothing but Snake in the Wolf’s skin, under disguise.

Prince Daemon never in his whole life was confronted with such veracity. It doesn’t change anything but the truth is DISGUSTING when it looks back at you with the most straightforward face of undeniable truthfulness. It is easy for him now to show off, but can he remember when he was just like Robb?! And that was the moment, an instance when Daemon is gaining his first insight. He saw how he sits at the same table with his rival Robb Stark!

- I acknowledged you! Isn’t that satisfying, am I not enough!? There is no need for you to lose your life, let me help you! – Haven’t you listened to me?! I don’t give a sh*t what would anyone think, the least you! You piece of Targaryen Elf! I don’t need your pity. I can have it for myself as long as I do care, but never from you! – he is clenching his leaking side, what a silly, headstrong and unbearable, so overbearing human being!

For Robb owed more to Jon than he will ever to him, in spite of all odds, they are brothers, they call the same Father, raised together and became Northmen, this is rivalry that is transcending the Life itself.

He envied Jon Snow more than he could ever tell from now on. He wanted someone in his life as is Robb Stark. Jon, I hope you do realize for whom you have obtained as the brother. Yes, he sacrificed everything, but looked at him.

Robb is everything I ever DESIRED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE TO HAVE FOR THE OPPONENT, and you are the one who attained it just by birth?! Robb is right. It was unfair. Robb should be his pure adversary even though he is human, he is just perfect in more ways than every other, for he can’t bear to stand, watch how Snow is having even this fresh blood for himself while everyone else has to live on crumbs from his very table.

Even if it doesn’t look like that to him, he is no aware how happy…he is. Or he knew, that is why he lives in the great fear not to lose what he has, in fear that becomes reality.

- All my life I was surrounded by leeches of the worst kind, of cravens and mad dogs. But you, and only you, are making me forget who I am, not what and that is unforgivable, you foolish idiot. Do you know why?! I never asked for someone to be able to beat me, I just – the tears of the Dragon touched Robb, he never saw even how Jon cries, but this was different, even that he did – wanted my equal in the Life I have lived.

The tears of the men are as it is foreshadowed, the hardest to fall, but that isn’t true, only of the one who is feeling with such depth, could in fact cry it.

- I admire and hate, Jon Snow. For so much, regardless of how much I lived longer or even shorter. That is something that can’t ever change about me, once you obtain my respect, you can’t breach it even if you indeed are living the immortal life. Thank you, Robb... that is why, let me make up all of to you. For forcing you to do what you aren’t, let me be the one who bends the knee if that is going to make you feel a bit better!

At the end of the day, Robb Stark didn’t prevail because he is Azor, it has nothing to do with it, he is victorious due to the Will like no other human being. Earning respect of the best of the best, thus your being can’t be broken and your name is going to live on even after you are gone. Ennobled he dug the twin swords into the tamed soil, remaining unbroken, on each side, he bends the knee albeit the Wolf stays leaned onto the Lightbringer as that is everything that is left to him, and all his honor depends on the Iron, not of what he attained in return while haughtily clutching with another hand, his ailing injury, in total disbelief what has just happened and what it was only for him meant to experience.

Afterwards, for that second lasted longer than the lifetime, the Dark Prince got up, saying next words which even deeper cracked the ice that is thawing around his heart, finally allowing for the light to enter when it breaks apart. “It is not shame to receive help, it is the disgrace when you forsake your people, God knows you are full of yourself, a great number of times you are not aware of the forest behind the trees, but you feel profoundly for what is yours and for that, let me treat your wound, Prince Robb Stark, High Lord and Great Azor Ahai. For you have become…of the Great, trust on my word, let it be sufficient, when anything in this world can’t ever satisfy you enough”. After this, Stark let it go, Lightbringer is transformed back to the original shape, Ice. Letting Prince Daemon get closer, breaking the arm’s length. Feeling that Daemon was doing something as well as he senses it too. His magic is healing a sore in mid of apocalypse. Shadows are growing and casting their lights upon. Out of Walls of the World!
Do not miss a possibility for peace, when just one common man, who was always extraordinary, gets that one Targaryen, the Prince of all, bends a knee.
To you and all for you, forever. Do not bite onto your tongue, I might keep it. Playing with it, tousling as your plaything’s locks. It was still… out there.
Possessive of possessions, territorial of property and protective of ownership. The mere is the truth, merely it goes all around us. But now, it was visible!
If only I had you as my friend and brother, I would be a different man. I didn’t. Jon Snow has shouldering all the weights of the world on his Elf back.
Shoulders and blades of baby creatures who grew tall. The coat of gold or the coat of red, the lions still had claws and mine are sharp and long as yours.
And so he spoke…the rains are over his halls, raining where not even the living soul to be here, to hear. Who are you for me to bow so low? The dragon.
A Proud Lord outside of Seven realms, My Dark Prince…I halt summoning of your Dracarys.

Chapter 22: The Birth of the King (of all Kings)

Chapter Text

Some things are inexplicable how they are managed, and they did, just as the fall and the rise of new civilizations, whoever they are or might be. He is no fool, he is aware and knows, the Holy Land of Olenna Tyrell depleted his Caraxes, this one might in truth kill him and be his demise, need to go, but not before it gets darker, he makes sure that his mark is left on the North, the one that only the King of Kings will pull out, in the same place. And now, when Robb is healed, he raised a hand to silence him, he feels that Jon Snow’s power is reaching, this is the only opportunity he has when both of the Powers of the World are clashed in the mutual dance. Never before, not even after or even later on won’t be like this for the future or tomorrow days who would long for such heroism and epical games. Not even then, it won’t repeat. Living in the nights of Titans and Giants, when the Gods walked as humanoids among us or in the shapes of the animal. Perhaps, it was hard to exist and survive. Yet, on the same time, it was honor to live when they did!

- Your people are truly something when they have such a leader. My Wolf Prince. For they have for what to be proud of. Robb Stark, take pride in the North as well. With them to watch your back, you can’t fall ever – for these words, he had no answer except to watch what is transpiring before him while both of them are returning their previous looks. Learning on that day, how much appearances, indeed, may fool you beyond recognition and thus, it was happening simultaneously.

A fire flight is successful for the 9, for they lowered Caraxes sufficiently down so that in the ending dauntless moments, the Highlanders threw spears at him, in the course of avoiding it, he flew into Grey Wind who found his highest point and from there he jumped the Leap of Faith, it was one of the Giantlike Slopes which even Valinor Wolfhounds wouldn’t dare, but that is why he is DIREWOLF! For the particular reason, never for anything but for the dire feats, going where no one had ever dared, but they did, the Direwolves, regardless of shape or size, he sprang onto his powerful hind paws and just felt how it is when you are flying, and upon leaping, he landed unto Caraxes’s blood scales of the robust back, pushing him down with the energized weight he suppressed into one point, releasing it with a blast of life energy that was masking everyone who was near and far into the North it was viewed as the Sign of the coming Age, making for the Blood Wyrm in all his maniacal blowing, bellowing and thrashing to go mad while summoning of Dracarys power that on that moment eventually Daemon did call upon when he noticed how serious the situation is for his Dragon for it was in vain. Robb breathlessly was watching just how fearlessly HIS DIREWOLF is bringing none other than Caraxes the Great down all the while still digging claws roughly into Dragon’s hide, and together with the Dragon he is flying to the ground. At the right moment, he will jump upon the crashing and he did in the way that is just possible for Direwolves.

Not just Robb, his Direwolf too, Grey Wind, among all others, rose highly above on the most decisive hour of their lives that won’t happen again, side by side, at the side of his Stark Rider. He became the magnificence! The Only Direwolf who lived and took Caraxes out alongside with the all of the apocalyptic presents. People chanted and saluted, the 9 were astounded, and Grey Wind stood in the middle of everything, nonchalantly declaring his brilliant victory over the Blood Wyrm! The atmospheric environment only contributed, for the Dragon fangs couldn’t reach him. Ultimately, if Robb already couldn’t defeat Daemon, he took the triumph, snatching for both if that is how is.

Freedom was reached! The Dark Prince was left to be a witness to his Dragon’s Downfall, when he fell, the whole grounds beneath his massive build broke apart and the bleeding scream is otherworldly deafening, extremely bloodcurdling that it was booming through, shattering minds, leaving nothing behind at all while the Fall enlightened the concealed stars from above, leaving a forever trail that is marked as today’s Lupus constellation, the WOLF!

- Your direwolf is the most deserving wolf for you Robb Stark, he suits you, just as you fit him! – Go to your Dragon, he calls you! – Grey Wind appears behind Daemon who turned to glance upon the one who actually did it.

- I will remember you, Grey Wind. Oh…I won’t forget, just as we do not return what we take, and so you won’t be forsaken, but remembered, neither you or your Master will suffer the injustice of being forgotten ever. You two are really something…else. And take my word for it, your names will be engraved into the House of the Dragon! From this day, to the last of us! – passed by, racing against time to his Caraxes who is immediately comforted, curing self, high pitched wailing stops, for Daemon Targaryen in front of everyone made his due when Jon’s Shield materialized over to protect his people, land and family from falling destructive stars, just in time before they came for Life, to all of them, onto the invisible guarding barrier befalling, nothing could breach, garnering in one center for which it was evaporating on the spot.

At that crucial moment, the proud Wolf and His Owner, next to each other, watched how the miracle happens jointly with their Northern Highlanders (for what is his Master’s, it is his now too, taking North people as something that belong to the companion as its own upon complete bonding) and 9 hatchlings who on time perched beside them in friendly, eternally grateful, mutual snugness, for Daemon didn’t wish for Caraxes to destroy either of them, let them live, give them life, return it to them, so he backs Jon’s Power of Protection, by drawing out his Fire and Blood in the majestic sight of color, form and sound, from the tip and all the way to the steely hilt, joining them together. The flaming meteorites are definite to push through, if just one does, the Life will change and the everlasting Winter shall befall everyone on Mother Earth!

The Bloodmoon, the Third showed itself into the broad daylight, not of the longest night, but of the long Day. This was the Third and now, perceiving it to his bones, the Power of Jon Snow was with him, for what he was attempting to do, backing him fully, together, they are synchronized. Even Glorfindel turns stern of his son’s cataclysmic struggle, but isn’t able to help him, he must replenish too and it is his fight. Come on, son, you can do it. You have the power to cause the Endless Night, now you know what is lying inside you, so, right away, bring us the Light! Back to us. Human beings can’t live without their Sun, my son. Therefore, everyone held their last and at one dot they were watching. It was Prince Daemon Targaryen, all eyes are resting on you. Not Up or Down, in the middle he was floating, bursting into such godly luminosity which engulfed him that everything is shining on them, it was illuminating the Wave of the World. Arya, the fainted one and their family is watching from the close distance now, the Might of Targaryens!

- Can’t believe it, both are saving the World! – Who, Arya, do you understand anything of what is happening?! – she smiles. – Yes, it is Jon Snow and…him! Daemon Targaryen! Both Princes of Dragons.

Brothers share a glance between, not understanding a thing whilst her lightened face was telling them more than the wonder that is taking place. Nature reacted to the Change, he won’t make it, yes, he will. Do not support him, he did this, he can make it right, and from every corner, wherever there is light, even between lions, everyone just watched the God’s spectacle on the most honorably day, indeed. Instantly, the Monster Asteroid has appeared!

- What is coming to pass?! Arya! – It seems that the Dance of Dragons we beheld has caused this apocalypse of our Earth! The Gravity of ours is weakened and it attracted from our orbit…the Death of all Life! – it was overshadowing them, the giant’s shadows are growing bigger by every second, they are running out of Time, elongating its tentacles, reaching to the others and all of them, each life, even Celebrimbor perceived for what is to come and for what it is. Daemon and Jon must succeed, if that hits, all is over. Jon has begun bleeding from his every pore and eyes, even his fellowship and Forest Elves, the Silvan the most are feeling it. They are being shielded from the approaching End of all Ends, and then.

Excalibur is manifested! Another sword of biblical lore! He summoned him! Everyone is windless, just eyeing what he is doing, not thinking about it, before Robb Stark and his Direwolf, he set the Sword in the Stone, the first one that has fallen just as the speck, that made it to pass through before the shielding Powers of Jon Snow came to the full fruition and hence, the Legend is born. Now, it is going to wait for the King of Kings until the end of all days and Long Nights. This was It! When the black is the rarest alongside the dark grey color.

Causing for the Darkness to retreat and the Life Shield of Jon Snow is waning, withdrawing along, having faith in him, proved not only to pay off, but it was the right thing to do. So, the World was for a moment relieved until another, far greater comes to their Door. And the proud golden father knew no bounds. Prince Daemon, sheathed back his twin forged swords, the miraculously created by self were truthfully marvels, glances up at his Wolf Prince who softly smiles back at him in gratitude for owing no debt between those two. Laughed lightly, while all is still in the bewildered state. He mounted his completely cured Dragon, taking the flight with him at once! The unspoken Pact of the two is struck by which caused the grandest migrations that followed, for the World to see, hear and talk about after some time. For the Riverlands are lost parallel to Riverrun as well. But the People may go. It was important that the Sun went back to their lives. Who decides to stay, they know their fate as the lawfully full citizens of the House they are incorporated into then. It will be tough, but the North is vast, there is a place for all. It was my to give. You took enough.

Nothing else for those who seek the changed and different. Not on my watch, I shall be defeated. The same we were not anymore, we were champions.
Are you our destined Wolf King? It is not possible, you are fated to be our Wolf Prince of all Princes. Not for you are King’s son, you gained our pride!

Our win! King of Wolves! The pure heart, thundery Voice of Howls! If his Mother is the Supreme Mother of all Wolves. Grey Wind became their King, it is even told that wherever he walked, they tailed his paws and whenever he appears and vanishes as Wind, they bowed without hesitation to the King! If not for you, Robb would never reach his potentials. Thank you for all, they did it because of you. Kara is the proudest mother on the earth of all her pack.
In the ending light, his Prince finally let it all go, wept, snuggling him, cuddling into his grey fur, but King stays stoic. That is what it means being King. Even with no Pact, the trade lives.

Great King of Wolves, waked, we follow you to the end! Perhaps not the strongest, the mightiest or greatest, but you were the one who honored North. Immensity is subtle, haunting.
This was his puppy, when it comes to his heart, oh, how cute he was. And look at him now! Direwolves of our World! From each nook are rounding up! Howling together in unity as one.
*
Bilbo Baggins: They rally around whom?!
Gandalf: They really around their King!
*
Proclaiming a new age, now we know what that age is. The 4th acquired its name, and it was of the Wolf. The Age of Wolf has arrived to us with Howl. Flashing happens, from each Pack.

LONG LIVE THE KING! Let us enjoy you!

Chapter 23: Reunions

Chapter Text

There is no way to know why people do the things they do, but Jon Snow chose well for appointing Robb Stark, his brother as the Head of House Stark. And happiness returns, if not just for a moment, before another shadow strikes, it is why it is staring down on us. For it wishes to be brought back as it was once before. In the near distance, fighting desperately, that you shifted my heart. Robb Stark. You stayed in my soul and mind. Great Prince of Wolves live forevermore. My ascending was for you! For you are Azor Ahai! How can it be?! It simply can and is, for it was that easy. You still got so much to learn. Of ravens of messages, crows of the night and doves of hope. I wish you all the best in your future life, obtaining a friend in turn for life. Lastly, he is free, not alone to sit down upon the softest grass that still lived, by his side is Great King of Wolves, that being so, who could ever hurt or lay any harm on him? In spite of all, he must get his family back, he promised to his mom, that they are staying together. How is he going to keep that promise?

He never broke any and now to his own mother?! Never! Just taking a break from everything until it was apparent that his rejoicing with him and others was elevated and broadened for upon the nearest hill when Sun is at the crowning point, shadowing silvery lights of the world’s splendor, he saw them, his heartbeat skipped and the chest grew, making place for his growing heart! Arya Stark with someone fainted upon Nymeria’s back, their brothers and Direwolves! Just like in the Viking prayer! It is all coming back to him with the fiercest force, he is so angry with his brothers, had no word for defiance, yet, they succeeded where he didn’t, and they were here. He wasn’t putting on himself any mask of how big and strong he is, not anymore, that Robb is the Past, he was just that emotional, too much for anyone’s well - being, so that he sobbed out of merriness and sheer joy for seeing his family…together! That they are going to stay that way and be, hence, fulfilling the promise he has given to his Queen Mother. Arya, upon seeing, just how much Robb was…a new man, wasn’t surprised by the change, but with herself how she responded to it, to the one with the joyful tears in his obsidian eyes, the new gleam was in the black irises, for not all tears are bad, she burst into crying and weeping as well.

She leapt from her Nymeria and ran toward, couldn’t longer restrain herself. All is forgiven and nothing else matters, nor it was ever to be of the significance ever more, all what is relevant is that they are family. Robb took a hasty run too!

When they are embraced, and he pulled his little sister in his arms, the man he was once, was no more. Other took his place. He was transformed by the experiences which made out of him something far more different and grander than anything. Every mother can be relieved out there, their children are coming back to them.

He just cried out so loud, that he was shaking from severe sobs which are unsettling his very core, earnest cries were his newly shield, the originated weeping and fresh crying forever changed him and because of it, Arya loosened her feelings too, showing to the world that she was just a little girl who wanted home, never believing this was her crybaby brother, who certainly harbored such strength that it was incredible to sense, especially this growing one she feels that is inwardly him, deep down, disguised as the weakness. For this was her King as well! All of a sudden, unaware, they are wrapped by Rickon and Bran, Robb squealed out of pure glee, hence, holding them also so tightly, close to himself, like he is afraid he is going to lose them all over again, encircling warmly and putting on his manly bosom of the full plate armor, kissing and ruffling, just stroking them gently, softly whimpering the quiet, tender whispers, cradling his family in his enormous hands and they relished every moment of his change. For everything what he was saying to them was about how he was a fool, a…bastard, to forgive him, although there is nothing to forgive, they chose it. But one shadow, truly, overshadows them all and startled, glanced up, it was Renly Baratheon, the Deer King!

- Renly! – astonished, he rose and together with his family, shoulder by shoulder, addressed his lover while everyone else with the full hearts watched such a warm and happy reunion, honest and genuine, as it should be, it was raw, but it was theirs. – Hey, you look… older, Robb Stark. I only hope you remember me! – I…can’t ever forget you! – yes, Robb was older even when his age is telling differently, but it wasn’t of the body, it was of the wisdom aged. – Heh, you can’t believe that I am in front of you, right?! – Renly! – Robb kissed Renly upon the mouth passionately, Arya got red in the face, brothers are snigg*ring and direwolves were confused, twirling their faces as their ears, in the odd moves!

At last, back in the powerful wolf hug, he is returned, just take me into self and never let go, never! Forgiveness is left someplace in between the lines, albeit their warmhearted reunion is coming about, Arya turns around to see how weird 9 dragons oddly wait beside their people! It was already enough particular, the whole situation, but even now, among all, they even have some unsullied Dragons on their side?! How he scored, that?! Made it possible?

- Sorry to interrupt you, brother – both adored lovers and revered brothers, including appalled direwolves who were in deep confusion still, together with them all, turned their undivided attention to rest upon her, answering by a question, instead by the direct answer, this was such a Stark manner. – What is it, sister? Are you hurt?! – No! I see you and Grey are just fine, we will talk later, for I have my own truths to reveal to you all, yes, I am meaning all of you, but now I am curious, our people are recuperating and regrouping – how it all sounded so good to say – but what about those 9 out there? Even Rickon and Bran are mostly shocked to see Dragon presences here?!

- Eh, long story of which everyone has their own interpretation for my memory is lacking, it seems. But, it is something I never told anyone, I had in my plan, even consulted with Jon Snow about the matter, but it all is gone with the wind, and to have you reassured, they are harmless, just like you said, they are now…ours. – Really!? Can’t go back to the House?!

- No, these are my hatchlings. – You gave birth to Dragon babies?! – everyone turned to puzzled Renly. – No, my dear silly Deer King of Antler healing bloodlines! Amid all people, you are the first who has a lot to confess. I trust that I am not mistaking or misunderstanding even this. And don’t look at me like this, it is still me! I am the same, however, no longer a naïve boy who knew nothing of the world. I grew up, it is all, for you take great pride in something you never had a firsthand experience prior to your…captivity, so sorry… - Don’t be, I decided my path, just please continue – a sigh ensues.

- What I try to say is do not worry, you are well insured. Everyone! Believe me so! Perchance it doesn’t look that way, for I portray someone else to you, except for, I am to be myself more sincere than I ever was. I took care of all upon myself, you all are going to tell your stories all the while being safe and sound from anything or of anyone to ever feel endangered or harmed in any way – he looks back and forth at the prying eyes – you are also going to find out everything else what happened and others will tell, especially songs or tales. Nonetheless, I have to slow down, for I want my answers answered from you too, by that I mean everyone who is back, specifically you two have plenty to explain to me. How did you manage to break free unscarred and unmarked in the first place! – he is examining closely both up and down, Stark siblings in the company with Baratheon beamed mysteriously. – Don’t worry yourself, my loving mate for anything else, we had our share of help, each one of us, in the different design perhaps, but all was very much distinctive and unique! – Robb misunderstood everything, quite confounded and downright mistaking what he right now stated, save for his Stark siblings.

Nevertheless, what entailed next was the Disunion, the parting of the Stark spouses and noble consorts. Keeping his oath he gave to God if ever by some wonder his Deer is back to him, so that was the Pact. He let her have their children to raise, they are staying all hers to nurture and nourish then, he is going to provide for everything else, everything they required, anytime and whenever, he was no husband, but he remains father. Though, nobody would ever tell for he never looked older than he really is, not aged, anywise, today, much more mature than cultivating the youthful appearance at all, the youth of Young Wolf which he stays to be. In such a way, he is leaving to his wife, her share, one of Stark’s abode in where she is going to bring up their children (2 toddlers).

To the serious surprise of everyone, it was to be brought about. Because the Starks do not do disunions, he was the First and all bastards of Renly are naturalized. The emotion of homeliness and the everyday cheerful routine was back on the track. It was the unreal and blankly unusual feeling, when everything is falling into place, but there is plenty of what there is to be done. Howsoever, despite her earned freedom and getting back to her home, she felt that sting in her womanly bosom that taught what she received and what lost. She was not an unnatural mother, she was…mother who longed for her lost babies she abandoned. She had to. It wasn’t right what was imposed unto her, manipulated into something where her free will was of little value. That turned so wrong, still, the yearning never ceased to haunt her down. Please, my falling star, bring them to me back.

The place where I belong is called Home, to feel as your own, comes with the prices, for it has its respective worth you hang on to alike life depends on.
All what is behind us now left, at long last. We feel deep, some deeper, but others who we know more than well, feel madly, the cries were harked afar.

My motherly cry with the rest of what remained, it breaks my heart that you are feeling profoundly. Do not despair, my child, he heard you and he is going to answer of his own accord. How it is appropriate and accordingly, but before that occurs, we are going to take a glance at the House of Dragon.
*
Never kill the boy within anybody, for everybody needs somebody. There is a reason why there are bastards, but no bastard daughters.

Chapter 24: Of family and granting

Chapter Text

Jon recovered promptly, proudly wallowing in pride for all of his, close to breaking walls of magic that bound them. Wheel that holds Life down, slows progress, but for a little while, stay patient. Meanwhile, Maekar and his elder brother are having a rough argument between each other at their dwelling place of House of the Dragon. Baelor, all what he achieved was the birth of sons. For anything else, he must take his own strings of fate in his hands by himself!

- What you are proposing is perilous. I am sorry it didn’t go well for you, but it didn’t for me as well. I lost my wife and… - You got from her what was your plan in the first place! – I fell in love with her, I never thought that is going to be the case! – You idiot! And you are older! I could smack you upside down, then you are still not only going to stay flipped, but even shall find out what it means being crossed by Heavens!

Baelor rolled his eyes. Maekar was unendurable, overbearingly tantalizing. He just needs to get some sense into him, when suddenly he hears her inside.

- What?! You caught something?! – Yes. And this is the matter of mine that I must address. You do whatever you wish, but the consequences are upon yourself, not me! – he goes out closing the ironwood door like a Drama Queen, for real. Eh, they have many lately in their House of the Dragon too! Even so, Baelor was trickier than Maekar when it comes to politics and yes, he right away went to answer her needs, but not before walking right into Daemon’s office where he was signing various texts, sealing multiple papers at once while one of his maesters aided him, woman in disguise, really, what is with him and women? He surrounds himself with them almost to smothering grand levels, however, she wasn’t one of Grand, but was of significance. When the veiled one appears, it means only one thing, his conquest for now is finished until the next time.

- I see you do not even announce yourself, not to mention, knock! High Lord Baelor. - Our Prince Daemon, you are aware what he might do, he just won’t accede to this situation where he is the only who is left, well, with empty hands. And you know what it implies for the Dragon, being empty handed and at the short end of the stick. It is his pride on the line, he is right in his chambers, threatening even my beautiful life! – Daemon’s sighs. Dragons, bonkers. – Wait a moment. Where to mark? – Here and here, My Lord – her nightingale timbre in her voice was the music for the ears, alas, it wasn’t a time for the enjoyment but action, anywise, he stays in the patient mode for now. – How many of the Riverlands folk had remained in their homes? – Around hundreds of households and hundred more on our southern border.
- Very good, well, overall, we will do well, taking all the matters in consideration. And Lord Maekar, your baby brother may claim, it is not someone of the Vale, but their blood is evenly great for the creation and births of new generations of Dragon Eggs.

- He is stuck with Baratheon as the perfection of all perfections as he says and he shall stop at nothing to get the blood back! In every way possible, even if it means he needs to go out of this dimension, find another and nest right in front of their human mugs!

- And if he can’t? If he is…trapped and feels crossed? – Daemon looks up, staring intently with the intensified instant when a veiled woman went out by stealth and secrecy, leading signed papers to be verified by Dragon Queen.

- This is why I want you to talk some sense into him! The reason why I am here because no one can control his temper when he is like this!

- And that is what, exactly?

- Daemon! You know his power and what he is capable to do!

- Hatch eggs.

- Not just that, he is King Bee and they have the special connection to other spheres of life, and that means, he is competent going much longer lengths than any of us, for there is no obstacle to him when it comes to Time and Space, if he starts playing even with that.

- You know that won’t have any effect on us, Baelor. If he tampers slightly, that is child’s play, always was! Here and there. – But, Lord Daemon, for goodness sake!

- Lord Baelor, just fine!

Accomplishing what he wanted, he left Daemon alone who just sighed out with deepness, until another slave woman enters, freshly caught from who knows where, pouring a tea into his cup to calm his nerves. She was in fact very excellent and useful, had some six sense, as soon as she is feeling that he is in some discomfort, here she is. However, he can’t shake off the feeling how it would be, that feel, that…well, Robb was in her place. Alluring so.

- Girl, what is your name? – Ros! My Lord! I am of the North!

- Good, you assume from here. – EH? What?! I am a slave!? – And I am Dragon Tamer, but who counts today all the sheep, right?!

- What should I do? – it was only natural to her that even though she is a slave, to own some other responsibility, why not to shoulder it with her new Lord she leered all over lustily, refraining not to drool much on him while Marge tries to get rid of her. Ruining her plans! While Daemon is on purpose ignorant, making her jealous.

- You see these white papers?! I entrust you with it to simply sit here in my stead and put seals on them, every last of piles, so that I do not have got to bother with the technicalities which are not the simplest or meaningless, but are essential to our dear mother political system which is far from…motherly as you can see. – Got it! Just tell me where and I seal! – Wait, wait! Not into my lap!

- And who is going to find out, mm!? – he barely got free of her, soldering her to his High seat, there, she was now secured. – You love to bind, if you desire, you continue with it on me… - Later, I mean…never mind, the Targaryen Guard, one of higher ranked knights shall come to untie you when you are finished. – How will he know? – blinks naively. – He got a nose for beauties.

Running away, he has to situate her somewhere else (sell to another)! Hence ending the little crisis in a marriage. Oh well, he went to Lord Maekar now.

- I can’t believe it. He sent you! I am just packing my necessities. – When you go out there, make sure to know what you are doing, how and for why, and get something for me too, you know what it is. – You…let me go? – It is a futile attempt to stop you. I know the eating emotion within, it is such a familiar feel and someone who hasn’t had a chance to feel it, especially if you are a full Dragon… not even Dragons may never grasp it. Until I didn’t get what I desired…the whole lands burned, so…just be careful, wits on your mind always to be near and good luck. Just don’t trigger some Armageddon or anything similar. – Ah, you know me! – he winks, Daemon rolls. – When you get there. Godspeed!

It was settled. At last. While on the other side, Arya Stark was longing next to the moonlighted riverside, she took a stroll outside of Winterfell, just staring at the mirror of the translucent river that was binding their world to the realm of Targaryens where the art of seduction is far surpassing that of the Man. Now, every single time she looks upon the water, bathes in or drinks, she is going to think about them, no, she is not going back, all is then in vain, but, the pain is persisting to stay, not giving her any moment of rest, any indication it will stop, and there is little what anybody could do something for her. To soothe her lonesome heartache, if she knew that it is going to hurt so very much, she would never even consider abandoning it all.
- I knew I would find you here! – she is stunned, glances up. – Renly! – the two hugged merrily before distancing a little. – And, how is that newfound feel of freedom?! – Ah, something that can’t be bought, not even all the gold or acclaim could give you whatever you feel, nothing is worthier than the liberation of your own mind. When you are unbound in here, then even your body is on an apex of the world. Trust me on this.

Never before she saw him so peaceful, how quietly is observing their beautiful lands, then, why she feels restless, like she did something wrong, when all ties are severed. This is what annoyed her, she hoped that something is left, nothing is. All stayed behind, with him, on the other side of the Seven Realms. No fair. In the south, her future lies, and here in the North, she longs for something that wasn’t hers to have, not to be given. Noticing, he says.

- No use to lose your head over something that never should happen.

- It did.

- Then, how you would feel if I tell you that you are living another life, that you are the resurrected daughter of Spirit of Fire? No wonder, huh? – distracting her to the point she almost did lose her mind.

- It is true, deep down, you knew you are not like us. You are a Northwoman, Wolf, but through me, you found out your real origins. Thank me, later!

Watching him leave, it hurts that she had to leave too, fighting to go back. Oh, she intends to stay for some more and then, she goes back, nothing is in there for her anymore. Unexpectedly, the living river stirred, as she is making the diamonds out of light, the bubbles rippled and the three of them emerged out.

Arya gaped wide. It was the miracle granted by…Baelor?! Her heart has sunken, glancing up at the same stars he is sharing with her rightly at the moment. No hidden intent. Let them stay, they should be with mother. All three transmuted to their humanoid shapes, she was astounded, squeaking from the strong merriness, keeping them in a mother’s cuddle as long as they wished for it. The next words were fateful: -Let us meet family!

A mother of three, our first birth. What kind of kept secrets she hides and cultivates inward!? Only the Snow will know, when the first fall arrives soon.
Prehistoric, B.C. When the names are replaced, one child with another and of all, Lyanna was conscious, of her two surviving brothers and bastard kids.
Brandon with (Glorfindel), Tommen Baratheon with (Rhaenyra Targaryen Lannister, she will be both, Dragon and Lioness), all falls into place for now! Annexation was complete.
Amidst stars, across galaxies, neither Jaime Lannister or Jon Snow, but Robb Stark was one of a kind like a myriad of folks, someone visited in dreams!
*
In our golden, softened, regal bonds, of any kinds, soothing and comforting. Remember, this could be you without knowing what you were missing so! My Bride, your Prince, of Wolves!!
*
I chose another road to walk upon, unknowing what awaits, befitting, encompassing myself, the evolution of me as the evolved Bride was unprecedented and something you can’t predict!
*
All bloodlines, Great Black Dragon and biblically red, Three headed chimera whose rumbling manifestations upon Holy Land and the North were visible into the darkling shadowy skies are connected ties, united into the One who embodies Sword in the Stone of which the sung fables shall be spread. Harbingers of Dark Goddess are on the run. Biding and shadowing Time. For there were birthed the roses with no thorns even if the Queen of Thorns lived so on.
*
In space, by means and through blood, during and throughout spaceless nobility of virtues, we take unto us what is gone. My brood, fellowship and Pack of Direwolves, the Wolves of any kind, of all breeds.

Thank you, My Red Lady!

*
Due to The Seal of the House of the Dragon, whenever the Queens are sending off their Black legions, they are from their Throne seat and balcony of layered canopies, possibly bidding farewell to a potential consort or the Queen’s husband, regardless of the posture of concubine or courtesan. From Lost Son, to the Fallen Angel, Prince of Darkness, Lucifer, he will grow his fledged wings. Even a little dove forgave her brother who sinned for their Sire and a King.
*
And now, Robb Stark in his dream is no harming, but subduing and harnessing visions till one hand covered his lips firmly, pressing on them, shushing him. But stuffing nothing into his mouth or subjugating him. This was different, he opens eyes, wide awake, above is Jon Snow.

Chapter 25: My bosom is cold and Winter is here with White Raven

Chapter Text

Winter beside coldness contributes to good health and running of blood with blushing cheeks, but when snow comes along, to get you, it brings with an ideal life even the shadow that comes to all for you. On the legendary, olden dragonback of lore, let us dance a waltz of dawn, the blood has spoken. Soul of Flame, Heart of ruddy Blaze, from our bondage, we put you in, no ache, mark or graze shall be possible to leave upon, depressed when we have to let go, crave me, I want to be in you. Even in death, the snow’s word is the last, as a changed man by love who was before annoyed, and now would give all for one more Hooman to hear. Through Summer as a medium of three eyed raven, Jon contacts Robb. Keep trying, never giving up on EITHER.

- The Howl of your Wolf still resounds, Robb – Jon smiles kindly, releasing him. The older sibling looks astonished at the sight of Jon Snow. He looked a lot more different than the last time he saw him, much more than he was himself. He got burlier, robust in the area of the chest and his arms were brawnier than prior to his leave, when he made his March upon Gondolin, and his face lines are just more eminent now.

- Your voice has altered too, Jon. You are a man now.

- You too. I remember you still as a boy.

- We both are not anymore…what we were.

- No, we are the better versions of ourselves. And yes, One Red Lady, the woman will try to reach you.

- Witch? – Yes, she became the High Priestess, the anointed after such a long time, she will seek you. – What should I do? – Do not answer. All doors are closed for her. She is a bad woman who burns children.

- I see. As you say. I will do as you command, Your Grace – he bows lightly with no pressure, upon straightening look, Jon’s was inexplicable.

- What?! – You surpassed me. Robb. – I don’t understand? – Eh, my brother – he looks somewhere between the horizon and the shore lines which are completing the picture in a dream, before he returns his glare unto his older brother – soon, I will be delivered and my people will continue.

- Jon…I was…I felt Sansa and she… - Jon grins brightly at him.
- You really believe that you weren’t obvious? You were. I could see it on your face. I know, not all, but still, I know you and she wields the Power I can’t describe, Robb. She is a natural wielder of the Ring of Power. – Your ring, that one, you bestowed to her on her 13th birthday?

- Yes. The twin ring to the One Ring.

- Is she able to overthrow the Lord of the Darkness? Is that why…it had to be this way?

- I don’t know. But, I know one thing – he looks at him so profoundly that earlier he couldn’t endure such a gaze, but now he can, he looked straight into the eye of the greatest, why wouldn’t him, one of the mightiest and grandest?

- You have become a good man, Robb. The Father is proud to have you as your first son…you are…more than deserving of the name, to be Ned’s son – upon uttered words, Prince Stark understood, if he died, it would break worlds for Jon, something would die in him on that day, all what is remaining is a memory of him, but this Robb Stark before you is more than ordinary, he was always a remarkable common human to you, way before, but today he is outstanding. It was evident by his bearing, how he holds himself in front of Jon Snow, on the equal footing. So sure of himself.

- I was wrong about you, all along, I thought of you as a snake among us, Jon. But, we both know, I may be the First, but you are the Favorite, and, don’t…I took it as it is. In his eyes, you are the chosen and only when I acknowledged you, I grasped my real Power, so, I could only thank you. I was never less, I was King’s son, but you are the…King, and that is what it makes all the difference – Jon, unpredictable as he is, hugs his brother who is together with him shaped into the adulthood along with the plays and tears, they stayed brothers.

- I never wanted the Crown or Throne… or any seat, all I ever aspired is to Protect the North, to bring the glory to it, to even conquer if I must, it was all about the North – Robb answered into him, looking over his dragon’s shoulder, pulling him closer.

- I don’t want it either, I realize it now, I get you. I concede it all to you, for you are the only one who shoulders the Power unimaginable for the human mind. You are the grandson of Elf Emperor. I am but another human lord who fights for his place under the same skies we share. It is all.

He just felt it into his bones that he is now far more appreciated, than when he was considered the rightful King to the North, the Heir to Eddard Stark.
- And Robb – Jon cups his curly head – I believe in you. Now, you made your own road, walk it, it is a good one, yes, without exception, I know you chose the harder lane, but it is made of the principle that will lead you to your integrity. You don’t need my burden, you are relieved from your respective ones, unlike myself, you are no spare, you are uncaged, you liberated yourself. You are free to do all you like. – And you are first my, then our King in the North – Jon’s eyes told all and both brothers touched foreheads, bound with the same destiny, sundered from the realms they live in, always together just like when both once shared the cradle for there was a place for one more. Hence, this the way it is to be.

Yes, Melisandre experienced it to her bowels, but he won’t pay heed to her pleas, he woke up to a new morn. King’s duty to his people and people’s duty to the King is the Art of Intelligent Design. For the best or the most skilled, among the greatest, grandest and magnificent, isn’t the lesser deal, it is the fact that everyone complements each other in mysterious ways. In essence as such. Permeates what deepens between the Ironborns and the Bears.

In the meantime, there is one silver girl, lost in her thoughts, that is asking herself, is there a corner for her, where she can warm herself under God’s lightness, not to feel it alike the knives in the back. Bleeding in herself, holding her being cuddled, sitting alone in her mystical circle, she could see how little demons, their shadows are playing before her, only the glimpses, to the front of the white canvas that is blank and naked, she keeps being huddled in the corner and just praying for someone, whoever is out there and listens, to heed her prayers. Her womb is empty and her man…she had to finish him. The chanting never ceased in her sight, she sees even when there is nothing to be seen anymore, she hears what nobody understands, she is doomed from the start, and there is no rest for her, no mercy, no graces. The pale moonlight passed through her tribal, leathered tent. Glancing up, she is still Khaleesi to her kin, people who became hers and waiting for her. She is the only who is left for them and they are everything she now owns as well.

Too tired and without the will to get up, but through glimmers, she is envisioning how the wastelands are opening to her, under the starless night, full of the sunless shade of the dark. One of her chambermaids went in to check upon her. The scrawny and sunken beauty of hers is fairy still, but fairly much stressed and she may not move up. Can’t make her or force if she doesn’t want to, still, she had to ask. Everything was ready and they are awaiting her.

- Khaleesi…do you wish to attend or we may continue on? – after some thought, she retorts. – No, I shall be there, just give me a moment. Just a little while to be with myself. Please…there are yet those who are dancing and I need to rid of them. – Are you definitely all right? – a concern is painting her visage.
- Yes, just, give me those precious minutes, I know you await and that you are...impatient, but, for me, bide for a little bit.

Everything for her is honored, respected to details. Not a person questioned, although she is enquiring destiny. In the least she was cognizant that this is how it is cast, by the way it occurred, leaving her mindless, so fast. She barely is able to compose self. All is just…no longer hers, her baby, where is her baby? She was full, with child, it is out of her, scraped from her womb, miscarried, so sick of herself, not of the pain, she was so certain, this is her path, her way, now, the clear route in front of her has vanished.

Doesn’t know what to do. Questioning herself where did it go amiss so, in this parallel realm of hers? At first, she was in Red Keep, it was the most imposing and high steel, there is no place more secure than of her dream, then she embarked for Far Essos, those are all memories, just the flashes, introspection and flashbacks of old. It seems how centuries passed from that day when she was made to marry him, someone whom she grew to love and turned into her man. Now, she was just a lone silver princess, the little Targaryen in this world, without anyone else, is the scariest truth alive. Only she, is left. And these demonic entities that are haunting sins, are merely purifying black fires in her. The promise of life at that Time.

Is there anyone to listen? Thus, one shadow elongates, separates from others apart, else are fading away, only a bigger one stays, brightens the darkness. Dancing away while being spirited. Chasing off the fiends, through lively stars and ambient atmosphere, it was atmospheric into space, travelling all the while the setting, glittering twilight is falling from the florid sea lines where rosy horizons are meeting the emerald earths, the skyline of predicted wish. Everything has a different meaning during the upbringing, nurtured to call the same father. From the childhood, grown into the adulthood. Mothered and fathered into Bliss!
*
You aren’t alone anymore, contours of dream are real, no matter, we owned many names, but what remains, we are Starks, we were always Starks, doing what we had to for survival, it is your turn, we always think that our duty is done but it is just a beginning of something neverending, very newly. Though Feanor chose his precious humans over his own kindred so.

Astral plains just as once both Ghost and Grey Wind were by bare paws and claws hanging, scraping upon the Wall and so now the world holds breath. In any shape, people do not bend!
Between us, instead of you, your name is chosen. I was misguided, by goodness abused, led for vanity to commit Evil. All I wished is to lean you on my welcoming breasts. Dream on your hailing chest, and who are you? That comes at nighttime when the Moon falls, to torture my wishes into realities. In such a way, it is the realism of the truthfulness, for the North remembers, the Lone wolf dies but Pack survives, Winter is coming is moniker for the Golden Wolf in front of whom all Wolves indeed snarl, but eventually they all kneel before their God.

Chapter 26: God’s faith, lay your woes on me

Chapter Text

We all know life before we meet death before which even God falls. We are so sure in the bonds we created, that they are going to protect us, that the blood behind which we are hiding is going to forever shelter us, that we do not notice when the Empire starts to collapse when the first branch breaks upon us, the one we shared together with everyone. I am in the darkness, visor I do not need, any of the veil on me, I draw the will from nothing. From the smallest runt you chose for oneself, if well cared of, grow as the largest, into the majesty of grace, from wanting to more children, to kept secrets of others we do not yield. She was out, people looked at her as though they are seeing the silvery fairy whose braided hair was no more, let it flow down over her smooth shoulders and tender skin.

The woman who had done her so wrong after everything she has done for her is held…the only question was why? Yes, revenge for the fallen kin, and yet, what about her baby? She was innocent, the noble steed was unnecessary, yet, all what she could feel is numbness, what else is there for her? No fear, any of it, high or great, let them do whatever they want with her. Before, she saved her life, now she can’t even look at her. Turning her back, she hears cries of the admonishing curses. Who cares?! In silence, she unfurled where the Dragon eggs are kept, nothing to lose, only then she is herself. One of the helping girls approached her, no one else dared, she was in the state of the deadly stupor like they have ever seen on anyone. Her bonded knight, Jorah Mormont could just silently weep, she was dead inside, but she clings on the last sliver of hope, the Dragon Eggs, the ones he served to her on the day of her torturous wedding, that was everything but not the beauty of the world, just ugliness, they made her survive, keep her going, upheld her heart not to betray her, however, it did. She fell, from nowhere she has to run, only forward.

- My Lady, Khaleesi…are you in need of any assistance, let me take these with you. – NO! Do not touch them! They are my children! Do you know what it is like – Dany’s eyes are kindled flames of unforgiveness – to have nothing, to lose everything you cared about. When you are just an empty shell, with no womb, with no kindness and no nothing to compel you to stay in this domain?! So, do not touch them, they are all I have left! – You still have your life, you do not need to go into the fires! It is all aflame, already! Please! – Dany pushed her forcefully, the girl yelps more in the inner torment than her own pain. – Please, if we lose you, please! – the poor girl tries to stop her, she pulls at the seams of her velvety tattered dress, upon the touch which she made for her by her hands, it was slipping through her fingers due to silkiness, and before she disappeared into the madness, letting for the Fire to cleanse her, engulfs her fully, she says the prayer, clutching at her scaled children from the shadow lands, all I ever wanted is to be happy. I am so scared, but I trust you! She speaks her mother tongue of High nuances.

- The one who is around us – quivering words are spoken, people don’t comprehend, merely contemplate - I know you have arrived, I speak to Life that hatches Dragons, please, Spirit, hear my pleading! I will do anything you ask, in return, bestow me – in her dim purple eyes, blazes are playing the Dark Waltz – glory, greatness and power! – one last moment and she was in. Women screeched, had to stop them from going after her, men remained quiet, and Jorah is still glowering, believing in her, trusting in nothing, but of the miracle of the Dragons. How does she feel right now? Daenerys, at first, feels nothing and only then, she heard, hatching, she cried hauntingly out for all to experience the birth of Mother of Dragons.

From the corner of her eyes, she distinguished a child’s laugh, those were her children now, just as she hears the ones on the other side, crying with their mothers for her lost life, but she is rebirthed, and she saw him, the Spirit in the Fire. Just a glance, he is whispering what she shall do. Nothing is asked in exchange for her prayers, just for her to live, for she is the Last Targaryen, of the full blood, there may be others and another, but she was the last and so it was, in the new dawn, unto the extinguished bonfire, she made them believe that there is something grander than them all when she appeared with her Dragons in all her glorious nakedness and charred body that was unharmed and untarnished, the little ones flew around her in hunger, showing off fierceness, and after the initial shock, everything fell into the imagined vision where she is dragging her feet with others alongside her hungry babies, she had nothing, by what to feed them?

Her tribe was famished too. One horse after another was devoured until just a few are left to drag the necessary cargo, brimmed with supplies, reserves of water in leather handmade flasks and leftovers of food provisions for their depleted processions, just when it is the most critical, they ate to survive and drank not to die, maybe avoiding the death, but they have been forced to experience throughout by watching the ill fortune of the other lives, yet, the noblest of steeds are for good traumatized by experiences, very soon even they will fall down too. For a great drought, lack of food and desolation followed and fulfilled their dues, because the heralding comet that was comprising of just one meteor, fell upon the Earth, in Essos, resulting in the cataclysmic changes of the face of every world, not merely on theirs. What is the purpose of having the capable warriors, powers of the worlds or hunters, even skilled ones in all kinds of concerns of daily life, or even stolen gold when that is all reduced to annihilation, Mother Earth can’t recover so fast.

The laughing wastes of scorching steppes were only confirming that her hunger was insatiable mutually with the others of her tribal kinfolk and had none to offer to her starving babies. One of the Dragons could hardly fly anymore and so, all three were clenching, either on top of her silvering head that was becoming so heavy, or on hardened shoulders, anywhere they found the place, just sorrowfully yapping out. Thirst is unearthly.
Something what is predicted, was given birth and it is here with them. Still, she has on what to hold on, she was alive, they are hatched, it is all what mattered, what is the point of giving up now, so she dragged on and on, until the blisters of her feet became something she couldn’t ignore or bear until nobly Jorah came and swept her into his embolden arms, without a single complaint she took his aid and her little ones, nuzzled into her blissful, receiving nest, mother and children fell asleep in bliss, and Jorah, like she is a feather, continued with now a mutual Dothraki tribe.

Firstly, he was just a respected guest, but very soon he was one of them and they took him as one of theirs, proven and ennobled by their Supreme Matriarch who showed them the way when there was no light, who kept them among the living even when all familiar is a memory. Through enormous grassland forests, across desolate moorlands and deserted marshes. Where the Hell they are going? Only what they knew is that she said, follow the golden path, and you will reach the Great Pyramid, there, they will find their sanctuary. The Sand’s Gates of Gold are open for everyone, be a slave or of gentle birth, this is what she was told to do as well. He understood nothing, but he believed her and the people kept on just as she has foreshadowed.

- Keep faith, Jorah, thank you for staying with me – her chapped lips lost its liveliness, but to him, she was something the most beautiful he ever thought it was possible, yet, she wasn’t his to love, but could be. – I would never choose or trade my place with anyone, my life without you has no purpose. You are my meaning. Princess, I go where you say. If you tell me, walk into fire, you just need to ask, I will do it – she starts crying.

Shushing her, there is no need for anyone to see her tears that killed in him all. What they hoped is that Great Pyramid shall open a mouth for them, if not, they will break a wheel, just as they did their walls. Hungered, starved and thirsting, they are competent to bring down and take out anyone who challenged, for their Khaleesi, who survived fire and flame, enough for the hatchlings to get hatched. He has to ask her, one more time, what she meant.

- You certainly hatched these dragon babies, right? – No, I spoke to you about it already. – Don’t force self, save strength…I apologize. – I want to speak, yes, wait… little slower, thank you… I went inside with eggs and returned with Dragons, but I didn’t hatch. – Who did?! – Spirit in Fire. – Maybe it is still black magic of blood, a tail of that witch that was at your behest burned together. – I thought so at first, but then, it was a clear man’s voice, uttering to me to go to Great Pyramid, to lead my people there, to go where we will never experience hunger or thirst, ever again and on the night of the Black Moon, he shall reveal himself to me. – Is he on our side? – Yes, I know, he is my protector, my…Godfather.

Creeps went rather down his marrowbones, of Ice and Valyrian steel. So, there they will meet, their meeting is nigh and her dragon babies are definitely to grow up until then, moody as the growing youth and reliable as the prophecy cast in stone. And afterward all the serious and perilous tribulations, the conquest of Great Pyramid was hers at long last. And the preordained day was coming closer. In riches and by the enlivened vigor, she retrieved her own elan and beauty of silver from which everybody drew her silvered Sun as if it was fateful kismet prophesized, she even commanded special and distinctive, spacious chambers with the vast and capacious balcony for someone, for the guest of whom there are yet sagas to be spoken of in Far Essos.

I molded the Dominion by my image, glistening into the holly night, the memories whose echoes are still harkened even from the astral plains of reality!

Mother, thank you for delivering us. Oh, how it sounds…and her acceptance of what is now hers…so relieving. Her soul is a Targaryen, the Spirit is of the Stars, but her heart is of her tribe that belongs all to them. From the first day, to the last, she is all theirs indeed. The breaker of chains, the undaunted woman who crossed deserts and brought her wee tribe that grew larger than any because of which others joined in, for the one truest Queen.
*
Godfather of ozone’s drought, you listened to my horridly fell cries and answered of all my hopes I harbored for you. I believed in you by trusting self.

Chapter 27: The path to dreams

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Harnessing the requiem for a dream of ancient Gods. What was it? She dreams, but no visions. Wishing to be a dreamer, for what is the Queen without the insight into the future, under glee. Behind your smile of pure gold I see the ancient line of secret knowledge that went down with King. Hate him, love him, but never give up on either of it. With strong bonds in the caged, silver golden slavery, it was possible to distort the reality. If I am everything you didn’t dare to dream.

The last Holy Knight. This is a sweet gleeful expectation filled with glad wishes. Suffering no thirst, with full bellies satisfied so, and yet still feeling the emotion of yearning emptiness. Feel changes in the bowels of the earth. Solar storm from stars, for even space bleeds. Pass down talents and secrets on the next generation. The Renaissance of civilization squeezes its eyes, closed and then they are open, it starts right now.

Missandei went in, which pleased the Silver heiress to no end, making out of her a good friend and advisor, who once even asked something so strange, out of nowhere, what made her feel lightheaded, something what is happening rarely, and which left her in a bare, very profound emotional state that led her into thinking, it really had her rethink of what she asked in the first place, to ponder over the simplest question which was much more than just simple at the first glance. Why Dragons ravage each other? For they can be raped too, so they keep ravishing others. It caught her by surprise, earnestly taken aback and couldn’t answer, now, with her entering, she is dwelling on what she could tell her, before she goes to her dragons to check upon them.

- Missandei, how lovely of you to see me so early! – Sorry, My Lady, but there were some uprisings, the bigger insurrections and… - this definitely wiped the loveliness from the silver Princess’s fairy visage…no, now she is their Queen. – What? Another riot?

- There is the group that believes that you have shaken the natural order of the world.

- And that is? – They are up and everyone is down. – Is that so? Well, have you caught the insurgents? – Yes and they are to be brought before you and… - No, there is no need. Just take them down. – To dungeons, My Lady?

- No, to Dragon Pits – she lively smiles at her direction before disappearing behind her long and thick ivory curtains which provided the necessary protection from the stronger Sun. – Oh, and Missa?

- Yes…My Lady? – Why Dragons rape? To avoid being taken advantage of? No, that is not the true, the truth is…it is in our nature, just like that, you know, submission and chains. And see you at the breakfast! – Missandei was the one who finally understood what in fact represented Daenerys Targaryen who swiftly went down into the lowest chambers where Jorah Mormont awaited her already with the captured men who were all previously noblemen, trying to take back what isn’t theirs anymore to retake and thus, their trial in front of the Dragon Queen began.

- What is the meaning of this? Explain yourselves? – but first, Jorah made them bend the knee, the ones who refused, he beheaded before the others who instantly submitted, inciting the immense pleasure, for she offered a ghastly smile of hers, brightened by their despair.

- You look better this way, as a matter of fact, if I remember, you taught these poor people the same way, submit or die. – You treacherous infidel! Your knight has done the same! – very quickly, the most despicable act was enacted on him by having his tongue removed, therefore was dragged from the scene, into the darkening place shadowed by her Guardians of the Unsullied, she addressed the rest. – So, is there anyone else who wishes to speak to my face rudely or they got braver and wiser, obtaining the senses into them to speak rightly toward myself? – none of spoils of war lusted anything with her, in their eyes, she is a mere slu*t, c*nt who got what she wanted by spreading legs, having her Dragons and mutilating others who didn’t kneel for her agendas, there was no cause, she was the evil Enchantress.

Sighs heavily, ordering for all to be chained and put into cages, onto even the lower steps, where the darkness is so dense that the light through any hole won’t pass and if they complain louder, let Guards have them gagged tightly, that will do, even though it intrigues her immensely to watch them suffer by their respective vanity, even she grows tired of the game that leads to nowhere. Causing for her to feel extremely dispirited by such unnecessary and illogical deaths which are triggered mostly because of most unwelcomed feelings which are by the most people looked at as something they just feel or see as someone else’s, not theirs, to be once again like it was before. She doesn’t even have proper conversations with people just because of her gender.

- Jorah, my nobly knight. – Yes, My Queen? – Is this always to be like this? I want to return to my home country, to reclaim what is mine, but are those red doors so elusive to me? Just because I am what I am? – My Queen, better through fear than having a need to beg for something that is yours by your birthright. – My birthright was the Mad King and I am afraid of that truth. I just… - she looks away.

- Dany… you can’t change from whom we are born – he places a gentle palm upon her feminine back, consoling her, being intimate when they are alone, this was the only touch, just for him to take, delighting in it to the utmost pleasures of his. – But can’t it be someone else? I just don’t see myself as the daughter of some…Madman, it is so wrong, don’t you think? I believe, if I were of someone else, it would be different! – hopefully she gazes up and Jorah distances from her. – Dany, I can’t be your father – her eyes narrows.

- You are older enough – if anything can win this man, this was the defeat of his as a man. – I don’t see you…I never…from the first moment…you were a woman to me. I can’t be what you ask of me. – You are my knight, not just my guardian or protector. You are also my friend, my everything what is left of the life I formerly knew! – I won’t be your Father and the least the Godfather you long for. Where is he? Why isn’t he showing his face?!

- You are purposely straying from my request of your status toward me. – I can always be your Warden, but don’t ask of me something that is impossible to feel, just because of your Daddy’s issues! And I am going to call someone to clean this mess. I am fatigued of quarreling with you every single time the crazy gene kicks into you, encircled with nothing by death and blood. – The one you delivered to me! – all within is urging her to slap him, but she stayed her hand. – You are the only one who can talk like this to me, Jorah, and live another day to tell a tale. – I know… - he falls onto his knees. – Forgive me. Queen.

My Queen, yes, she tenderly strokes him and he encloses his arms around her well - shaped, womanly knees. It won’t happen ever again, leaving her be.

- Why? – she enquires while staying alone. – Haven’t I waited long enough? You said when I am ready, worthy of your revelation. What should I need to do, to attract your attention, for my Godfather to reveal oneself to me?! Are you here, at this moment, with me?! Please, alike in fires, you were right by my side. Talk to me, send a sign, what do I have to do?! – it came to that, after everything, for her to speak to the same Walls she bent to herself. She needs to find Missandei, to speak with her, she is highly troubled, wasn’t she showy sufficiently? Shakily she stepped into the intimate chambers which were right next to hers of her highest trustworthy person she ever trusted except for hardened Jorah who kills in cold blood, with no qualms on his mind, for he was the brutally disciplined, Spartan man who isn’t able to ever mull over about anything but of his own pride as the man. That was everything he ever saw, not a girl who needs her comfort, but the virile manhood that wants to have her, what couldn’t be expected is to find her Missandei in a compromising…standing.

- Miss…what are you… - You haven’t knocked, Dany, oh…I mean…Your Grace and…- No, no…I am going merely to close the door, put the key in and just sit and…savor what I see. I must say, I am…more than gladly surprised – Dany’s violet irises were similar to the naughty owl in whose eyes a shade is sparked, wished the words of great wisdom, but what she did find is the aspiring aspiration. – It is not in my ambition to be watched! – You have to finish or your Queen is going to punish you for a transgression against, or you are fancying for me to finish instead? – Neither! Why are you here!? – Don’t shy away! I need to attract someone! That is all. – You won’t covet it by barging into my room. – I haven’t… How rude of you! – Just, send some sacrifices.

Ah! Why of course! Why hasn’t she thought about it earlier by self!? Oh well, she can always use those captives of hers, but first, she patiently waited for Missandei to continue only for her to throw a slipper at her Queen, yelling at her to get out! Dany is stricken by such an impudent demeanor that is coming from none other than her Missandei?! Is that the same woman, until she didn’t get a cottony pillow right into her glamorous countenance that is now suffering the violation because she trespassed someone’s privacy?! Oh, all right, all right! She just longed to see how she is doing it to herself, to please yourself, this was so unusual to witness and that is why she gained sight! At least, she got counseled. Off she goes with a plastered crazy grin on.

Seeds of Eden and Fruits of Garden, bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. In the sleepless night, you have nowhere else to go, but to me. We call the same Allfather, raised and played, mothered and fathered together, until grown and upbrought into adulthood.

Chapter 28: Hawaii’s pearls

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Winter comes even in the most unexpected nooks of the world, bringing with itself the marveling wonders of the snow and the fulfilling marvels of the realms, especially to those who never saw snow or experienced it, it was the sign that was interpreted as the change that has arrived, unexpectedly. While in the Dragon Pits, the lighthearted torches are lit, burning the casting lightness upon those who are sacrificed and had no way of knowing what is going unto them, neither the way it shall happen. From the darkness, they anticipated the doom that in fact never came for them, therefore, Dany was notified of the unlikely circ*mstances. What?! Dragons didn’t eat the men?! Wait, her Dragons?! Are they talking about her children’s pits? Demanded.

- You say, they spent the night there and each one of them is alive? Missandei?

- Yes, they are broken, you should let them go. Learning their lesson. Your children decided, it must be that the sacrifices were either unfit or hard to digest, that is their assessment. You should honor it, My Queen – while Sir Selmy stood loyally and readily next to his Grace.

- Our Grace. – Yes, Sir Barristan, what do you say about this unfolding event? – Your advisor possesses the wisdom beyond her age, even I can’t be showy of mine competence as she can – he winks toward Missandei with the mutual recognition that went unnoticed by Dany because she was too much engrossed into her own disbeliefs, however, she listened still carefully – so, you should heed her wise words, let them go and see for yourself what happens next.

- What do you mean by that?! What?! You two are not telling me something?! – both shared a glance in between. – Your Grace, I have to inform you that the Winter came even to these dry and sun filled lands, the Earth is completely altered as it never was. – What?! Those few flakes? – There are plenty of snowflakes right here outside, haven’t you noticed that the fireplaces are lighted even in here?! Something that is barely ever requiring?! Have you seen outside of your chambers, lately?

- I…haven’t looked, nor sensed, I was preoccupied by more important concerns of mine. I have no time to even deal with the forecast. Do I look to you as someone who guides the weather, even such a duty?! Tomorrow we expect sunny and dry, with no cloud in the sky! In the North of Westeros as it is expectantly, we have our cold Moons, till down there into the South, it is always the Sun! – she imitates so well that even her eyebrows danced that the duo barely refrained from laughing out loud. - The Snow will melt.

- This one, I must inform you – Missandei pressed her from another side – stays. – But, how is that possible?! – she starts walking back and forth, what did she do wrong. – People believe it came along with you, you brought it to their regions. Following you. Only when you appeared, the changes got more profound.

- I was in the land of my late husband and never such occurrences ever occurred! – she again merely starts her dance of pacing whilst glancing first at Missandei, her most close friend she ever had and then at the man who crossed seas to serve her, she is in a badly need for this all to be explained to her. – Your Grace, they don’t know what winter is, ever before had any snow, this is the first time they are affronted by something they don’t know what it is! – he continues, Missandei supports. – Maybe you stirred some alterations by itself when you hatched the eggs, only then, the odd things repeated and kept up happening. Dany – she wittingly becomes a lot more intimate with her every single time when it is in her agenda to soften the Queen’s heart and make her understand, see for herself. Jorah like ordered, barges into, informing.

- Our Queen! Winter, snow and ice! It is so damn cold! – he kneels in front of her. – My Queen what have you done?! – she looked at him like he fell from Mars. – Nothing! I don’t even feel cold, what is the matter with you all!? – she swirls her head from one side to another at this point, prior to returning loved attention upon her most loyal, dependable man.

- How do you mean, you don’t feel cold? – No, it doesn’t bother me. I even welcome a bit of chilliness, to cool me down when already no one else’s wants – this sounded so wrong on so several levels, that is left just in between the four walls. – But, don’t Targaryens prefer the hotter, the better?! You even lighted your fires even when it is over 40 degrees in plus?! We are sorry… forgive us, Daenerys, we are mere people when it comes to oddities, we just wish for you to enlighten us!

- Why do you all insist on calling me by my name or endearing pet name by default, a trained routine when you want something from me. It is obvious! Don’t think I haven’t noticed, I am merely indulging you because you are all mine, I love you all, and I will repeat it as many times as it is necessary – sent the accusing glares in all directions, people got blushed, before she again sets her sights on him.

- My Jorah, and don’t flutter with your heartbeats like this, you are all mine anyway – she makes a point - I told you, yes, I like it, but I prefer a tad of the chilly weather too. I mean, it is just a little bit of cold!

- Your Highness, it is below zero.

- Ah, we are in minus?! Not below freezing?! – Missandei bursts out laughing, forgive me, My Queen, but she couldn’t endure, and the rest of them, initially confounded, followed her way, because it was that much ridiculous. This laughter surely not only contributed in the youthfulness or health, it even brightens their already such a gloomy day. – All right, I go down, you all stay here, not a word and let those pitiful men go! Oh, I really was needful of this, thank you Miss!

- At your service. Always. – And light the various fires across the country, bring the wood and coal! I want it to burn daily and to keep people warm, at once! – From where?! You see some trees!? From which mines, this is Hawaii!

- Jorah! You are ruining my beauty with your constant and incessant nonsense! Stressing me far more than necessarily. Without fail! Plant the trees and find some mines to dig, send people, employ, search, delve, hollow out if you must, but do the necessary as always. Do I have to think of everything!? Until then, we have Palm trees! Cut those down, I never even liked them in the first place, too much shade anyway, just tolerated for the sake of people – if someone told Sir Selmy Barristan that he is going to die from the suppressed laughter, he wouldn’t believe it, others just wore blank faces. She was invincible, leaving them to gape wide while leaving everything else in their care, she goes to change into something warmer, what in the Seven Hells is going on?! Putting on herself anything she could find, for she needs to demand for some seamstresses as well, to sew and weave some other dresses that isolate warmth and keep the coldness at bay, now, she feels it.

As she goes down with one of her green lanterns all the while the candles are all around, enclosing her from each side, those nourishing and nurturing emotions are once more rekindled as the requiring nutrients for her very soul. It was the golden sin of hers. And surrealism enwraps all over her the more she was stepping down. The stroking of her full lips even though there is nobody presently, not a heart was present either, consoling her either ways, was becoming real at present.

Yes, that is that feeling. The Spirit in the Fire, her Godfather. The tingles and needles, just like when she is stepping into the flaming blazes, it was the similar feel. Oh, if this is how it feels, how it would be when it becomes her reality, turns into something that sounds as the Heaven itself. And by herself, it can get the dream, fulfilled come to be as it grows into eternity. In her Queen’s apartment, the private chambers, somewhere where she is not anymore, it is vacant, the exalted steps are heard, it is as hearing a melody from the Seventh Heaven that fell to her.

These Pits of her Dragons, where she kept them are becoming unbecoming, they should have a lot more better than the maze of darkening tunnels, if she is bathing in the glimmering lights, then all of her children deserved better than Dragon pits, preferable, rather nobly. Dany is going to think of something.
To believe when there is nothing remaining to believe in, in an old and forbidden…if there is the symbol of the prey, I do not miss it, I hunt it down, so.
In the end, I was just a girl who knew nothing of the life, but he taught me, little by little, had me understand what it means to be a Dragon among men. Do not wake it, it is awakened inly.

Chapter 29: My Godfather

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Arise what everybody follows in the world. Growing colder by any minute, she had to, at least, calm it down, regardless of how. Her breath was seen, not evaporating. She shudders, it was here, he was. Amidst the lonesome middle where her children were sleeping quietly, he shows his radiant brilliance with the Dragon that was reaching the highest parts of the ceiling. From shadows Maekar Targaryen and his Edna came into the light and Dany who never before saw another Dragon, another Targaryen, except her own brother, was left amazed to assess him from the tips of his black boots, dark gloves, the strong body in the shiny armor and the most prominent characteristics which are emblazoning him as the fairy dusts of a starlight night.

- Don’t be afraid, stay quiet, lips together – he raises his fair hand carefully, putting it down, not to frighten her too much who kept glancing at her tranquil Dragons – I am Dragon Lord, a Rider, the Tamer as many of us and a lot other statuses of mine of which you are going to become aware, my dear and which are associated to myself. – And…this is… - no way to find her voice, how did he get here? She doesn’t know about any other Targaryen except for herself! She always thought.

- I read you. Yes, I will teach you how to shield yourself, the way to sneak into others and… to read minds as it is your second thought. For I have my ways and you should learn yours. This is my Edna, meet her, you may consider her as She - Dragon, but she can be as HE as well. Yes, hermaphrodite as her sibling, as mine too. I am not of your parallel world, this is your dimension, my is the alternate reality. I am Maekar Targaryen.

- MAEKAR!? I DON’T BELIEVE IT!

- Am I not the same as the pictures you saw me in there?! Hanging from the high walls of Red Keep?! – putting down the little vivid emerald lantern on the ground, which she clenched in her wee hand, and upon release, she places both of her smaller hands onto his fairy face, her touch soothed him, feels the light skin of another of her kind, it is not only comforting, it is fascinating her so, everything what she always fantasized, even more. Experiencing her spiritual moment together with him, Edna falls asleep next to her children, thus heralding the forged bond.

- Oh, ears! They are so pointy! I don’t have pointy ears! – he grins.

- We are of the Elves, we evolved differently, but under the same skin, we are one. – But I have no ears like you! They are so cool!

- Oh… dear…our ears may be so sensitive…if you continue your ministrations, I might just take you here and now – as burned for real, she distances herself from him. Only now she is becoming conscious of the whole situation she was in, alone as a female.

This was the full and adult male, not the sniveling baby of her brother whom she could just slap and for him to whine away. THIS WAS…A GROWN MAN in all his grandiose grandeur and majesty of greatness. Immeasurably powerful, with the powers which break dimensions and the tremendous strength in his chiseled form that is menacing to bring down the worlds with bare hands, it was brimming in him, and yet, he couldn’t look more kindly, so gentle and benevolent, well, the appearances may, very much, deceive so, but people never learn, save regarding her and him, she can feel safe, for she is a Targaryen, if she were a human woman, that is another story we do not wish to know. He chuckles playfully.

- Do not worry, you have no what to fear from me, I would ravish if you were a human.

- Yet – she puts down her well womanly arms to rest by her slender sides – you let others go. You didn’t claim.

- I am Targaryen, not the Beast who doesn’t have his taste. I choose whom I desire to taste. There was no reason to claim them in any way. However, I appreciate your care for me that is needless, for I am not the Monster of Monsters, although, I am Gorgon of my virtues – recognizing that glimpse in his cold glare.

- You would eat them if tasted or smelt good? As mere food, not as someone to love, cherish and care for?!

- It depends – he winks as the Devil in the nefarious disguise under which he was, for the first time, she felt calmer, even smiling a bit, maybe this was his snare, but no matter how you look it, it was working, she was thawing around him. – And you are better without these ears of ours.

- You are amazing with them!

- Sick humans love to hunt them as trophies, it is the symbol of their dominance over us, as it is ever possible, still, we let them live in delusions – this took away her smile as easy as it has appeared before, that was lifted up as soon as he said the next words, enlivening her dead mood from within – and let me tell you something, they may have our deaths, but we rise as the Dragons from the living fires, as you were reborn, haven’t you? – she confirms easily.

- Yes, and…can you teach me to hear their voices in my head even when they are for any reason…incapacitated. To talk with humans even like this.

- You mean…gagged…silenced or…much better…hushed by your respective hand? – he raises intriguingly his elegant eyebrow before placing it down to rest in the symmetric line with another, she nods.

- Yes, but do not forget, we take, we own them and perhaps even forcefully bend, but we are not like humans, we respect traditional ways of theirs, only if it is necessary we do the certain things out of control, to blend into their mindsets.

- Yes…my Godfather… I expected and awaited for so long that…I am inflamed inside! As I speak, the Universe is on fire! – he made the first move, embracing her wholly, and in the first time in her life, she breaks in his mighty arms, letting all of her fear and uncertainty, goes into him, resting all of her difficulties on her Godfather.

- You were like a Shadow that all my life was escorting my each step!

He is all over her, cuddling and brushing his firm fingertips across her face, hair and every part of her body that is covered, kissing her onto her full lips.

- It is a custom among Targaryens, we always kiss on the mouth – she shivers. - Males rarely, but when a woman is in question, we do not pay heed if she is of our direct bloodline or any kind. – So consoling.

- Wipe your tears, my dearest Queen, we have got a lot to discuss and live through, come, the bedchambers you made for your children as their own living quarters, are suiting to me greatly, more fittingly. – Is this the reason why nobody dared to go deeper, even I didn’t…feeling…

- That is my barrier, I have to protect myself. Just because I am a male, I am one, just as you are, but now, we are together! – she took an offered and open palm that sets her little one into his as the gentlest, warm current, a gust of flurry air to nest in. Do not fear the Conquerors. To be inside what is to be taken, enjoyed, then tasted and owned like no other, feeling you and this is how it felt, her journey through which he was guiding her. Along the way, his story was getting the full image of the one of stars.

I came down from the falling skies. It was me. Where is he taking her now? No dread whatsoever evermore. I bid you welcome into my den. Such a strong blood that rejected my beauty that has no equal, calling the same divine source from which we are groomed into Dragons. Never subduing, he is on the quest for the new prey.
He is not the only King Bee, there are others, even Queens. They were the strange duet and the power over her wasn’t growing stronger, it was her who was doing to him. Through the candle lighted blazed labyrinths, he is putting her on the webbed pedestal, she is in his Targaryen arms and then upon something that reminds of the chimera, he helps her go even deeper, for she can’t walk for more, she was enthralled, loving it with every fiber of her loving life, something she craved for so long and now it was coming true, fulfilling her mind, granting entanglement in where she succumbs just as he is too. My Dark Angel, angelic voice.

Whatever you like, bring it to me. I will feast upon it. Walk with me now. He is telling her why those men were spared, they had no good blood, he only searched for the finest. For what?! He explains to a gruesome detail to get Dragon Eggs in exchange. Do Breeders ever go out of you? Only when their Masters want to, till then, cradled safely and cozily in between blood and bowels, delivering and serving. Changing our waters, the blood inward us.
*
Where are you taking me to, where I am taken for? I am your Guide into my realm! Welcome.

Great Doors are closed from behind…with a faint thud.

Chapter 30: Revelations of Phantom of the Opera

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His disguised nest is led by something she wasn't prepared to see, for a very long time, she sensed that all the opulent or poor states, of the tribal or not, everything that was encompassing her from the moment of her birth, didn’t belong to her kind, they were different and they lived by the ways of others, to fit in, nevertheless, upon entering the Womb, his starship as he explained it to her with the mind of its own, that is actually the real image of Great Pyramid, her heart starts beating so fiercely. The ship is camouflaged and inlaid with a growing material that is grown into the flesh and bones of the built in and strong construction whose blood is of the cleansed waters of the prescient flows, carefully engrafted to look from the outside as the mega structure that is built up by the human hand, but from the inside, the real matter and energy resides, whose enchanting walls are alive and breathe as the sentient being that was pervaded with the old magic and interwoven by the forbidden bounds which are allowing the entrance only to those for whom her Master and Lord permits to enter. Without his approval you shall not pass. And so, here she was, struck by what impacted her, with not even a glimmer of worrying herself sick anymore. When she asked, where she may sit? Would the mind…mind? Or how he described it to her, only for him to reassure by wording.

- Wherever you prefer. Sit and help yourself! – before her appeared a multiplicity of the richly arranged food of any kind, just as drinks and varying refreshments. The first instinct was to share it with her people, just for him to catch a thought and destroy the illusion, speaking to her directly.

- No humans in here, they are not your people even if you took them as yours. Humans enter here either as slaves or mates, the third alternative doesn’t exist – now she both saw and perceived what he implied, especially his ways of thinking and the lifestyle that the two of them led differently.

- In my country there are no slaves.

- Dany…one silver woman, that is white as snow among colored people, who broke their chains because they were incapable themselves, yet waited Savior is nothing more than a reversed side of exactly the same domineering bondage they are put through. You know, because you feel it. You are the Queen of all their lives and if they do something against your law, now you are to be the one who judges them by your rules. Who is going to die and who live? The true freedom is not breaking the chain, but the bending of their minds and that is what you did. They are never freed by the mind, once the mind of the human realizes that they can live without your presence in their world, you know what happens? – crossed her mind, he came with a Red Comet and brought alongside the change.

- No? – feeling so fearful, he is in her pallidly pastel countenance straightly. – Genocide and the fall of your Blood. Why are you in this foreign country when the Iron Throne is yours? Your heirloom, by every right and Heaven, the legacy that is passed from King to the next heir and you are its heiress and still, you play here with these human children who should be nothing more but the annexed dwellers of House of the Dragon and lawful citizens of each representing household that serves our home that we are commending to them. If not, then, the thralldom they never actually escaped. It just changed the image, and it is presently your face they gaze at and don’t watch with those framing eyes of yours. Look around you. Lone Targaryen with three Dragons that I hatched for you, for at the time when you were the most vulnerable, you showed the power beyond imaginable, and you did it, calling upon myself, for you see, I can’t go unto any domain if I am not firstly called! I send dreams and messages, you hear me and the one who answers, calls me to his or her reality by the free will. Before you think it is nothing of your doing, it is. You changed everything with your pure Will. You are even right now harnessing your life and mastering what is going to be. Everybody loves you so, look at you alike a cherubic Angel of Dark Havens, sensing your immortal beauty, inhuman, alien and evasive, fort they all see you as theirs, but they are not yours. Not yet. Listen to the Teacher, my Dany, Silver Princess and the Queen of the Seven Realms, that is merely the speck under your fingernails, for you shall rule the Worlds. I promise you. Dany.

He sent the wave of realistic images, which are within reach, at her fingertips. Imagine, picture and indulge into the fantasy, you may fantasize everything what you aspire. Wooing her, winning over, changing her spirit, let it dance away, her mind is altered, charmed and bewitched, but it was so real, it feels so true, for it was. He can give it to her and she is his to commend back everything he desires of her, but that was just very modest, he says.

- The skies teeming with Dragons, and even all the water of all dominions, filled with the winged, flying serpents, the great of the greatest ones, for that is your greatness to claim, your blood in the holy water changed and the other way around, for the Waters of the Realms are calling your name, the legions of darkness and the Host of the stellar and planetary Hordes – her eyesight is clouded, obtaining the more natural shade of violet, that is her color at present, the nuanced and shaded mystery that is making up of her lavender irises, dark and deep, she was one with his words, the hidden her was being awakened, she slept long enough. It was a time for the dreamer to wake up. Dreams are powerful, but the ones who are turned into your real life, it is the God’s Might of all realities. – Winter is going to call out your name, you are Winter’s daughter – she begs him. – Tell me more. – His name is Glorfindel of the Golden Flower – as if put on fire, impassioned of her inwards were, she was set alight.
The name of her rightfully born father, not the birth one. She can reach him if she follows the paved steps which Maekar was unfurling beneath her feet.

- You got three boys, the fine Dragons, especially Drogon. – Isn’t he? – outright mesmerized by this Targaryen Liege of her breed. – But, no girls, as you may have noticed. Pity. – I am a girl. – Yes, you are my girl, Dany. You belong to me from this day and on, are you – he places the affectionate palm upon her gentle cheek, fondling it – sure with these arrangements of mine? – Yes, my Godfather. What is it that you want from me, I believe and trust you, this is a point you anticipated so, where your plan is unraveled. – Smart girl – kissing her tender forehead, she gasps softly. – We need each other. You are but a mere girl, but I will help you to grow into the woman of the full womanhood. Just play your role until then. Like I promised, this is your ancestral heritage. Do not stray from it. The few who did, end only bastardized for what they still fight on. It is the futile attempt. Take the path of the easier way, but chosen by you, it is reshaped to be turned into the harshest out there.

- And whose blood is coveted? – Baratheon. – Baratheons are the extinct family – she tells bitterly, the coldly voice, in it is the shade of ice – Beast of father burned his own daughter, in the end, he met his own demise at the hands of the one he wronged the most, so now, the Deer King is avenged by each law, rights and the rule of the surprise. It was hers to take. – You sound like you almost admire a woman you never saw, just heard of – the Queen turns to him, pointing with her following words.

- Lots of stories, plenty of them, surround even my name, yet, it is all that takes for me to see about what kind of person I am going to meet in person when I step onto my mother’s soil. Back where I belong. Anywise, this leaves you…empty. You came her in vain, searching for something you can’t attain neither in your life, nor in my world. – Not at all. You see, there is…another, one more that stayed very well cared of, among the breathing, living with dignity, eating good food now.

- Who?! – narrowing her beautiful irises at him. – Gendry. The bastard son of the Fat King. When you get there, naturalize him in front of everyone, after…deliver him to me. That is the Pact. If you…refuse, by any chance. My godchild, trust me. I will drink your blood. Or, I will just let another to shed it in your name, on your honor and by your power, I will just stand and watch if you betray me. I gave you everything, back your life, the least I deserve is… - You are right, up until now, you never failed me, that is a trifle. – Careful, it is another human being, it is someone’s life. – What is one life for the greater good of thousands?! I am going to free all of the people from their chains. – To serve…yours – she winks and smiles mischievously. – What I get in turn!? – WINTER.
The Pact and given word must be upheld, if not, the neverending Winter will never leave any world. Summer came back into these lands, the enriched regions of Palm Trees, ah, yes, they cut those Palms and presently, they have to plant all over again. It is just their luck. Nonetheless, she needs to gain the trust of the North, of the Whole West to serve her cause in her service and do all of her bidding, manipulated into her game, luring into the awaiting snare, regardless of the cost she had to pay, never knowing just how much high it can be, she was making ready, bracing and willing to move across the Sundering Seas, but little did she know, there was but one name to whom she couldn’t bid her game, saw through her. Equal in every way, perfect rival.

Who? Her name you all know, from shadows came out, of the same mire molded which is shadowing each of the step. Grown up, intellectualized to the envious heights, heightening her senses out of the common word, into her high intellect that was foreshadowing further, deeper and more profound, while deepening the chasm of the power houses that are opposing against each other. Sansa Stark. – I was always Stark, I did what I had to, to survive, and I shall survive even the Snow Queen. For my brother, Jon Snow. Your Queen is not what she seems at all. – Hello Gendry. I so longed to meet you.

*
I arrived with the falling stars upon the night lit skies, when the skylines were hemming the horizons of the Earth, I came for you to care, take and keep.
All to myself. Stay quiet. I won’t hurt you. Come closer and I am going to reveal all what you miss to be, to see another world I offer and I do promise.
Male angelic, dark voice, the deepest timbre resonates throughout a moonless night, leaves much to be dreamed. Till, we are continuing a main storyline. My mystic gardens, the garden of mystery. Ensnaring belts of protection. By Elves woven into tools, or carved onto weapons.
*
Open ending?

Chapter 31: Wee Hobbit and the Elf of the purest gold

Chapter Text

The King who served another, who falls to his knees only to his King who knew all the story behind Glorfindel himself, feared and respected, and yet, regardless of whatever he creates, builds or enacts, Glorfindel remains on top of the world’s foodchain. As the Wolf of all Wolves in the World, for he wasn’t just any wolf, he was the golden direwolf among the Wolves of the North. For he was the Wolf and his children who either share blood by birth or synthetic ways, are the Wolves as well, the hidden ones who prey not upon the powerless, but bigger than themselves.

For we are the Wolves of the North. Right now, Glorfindel was finishing with his little sad*stic freak, Ramsay Bolton, the very first part of the travel that is going to take for a very long time. Why the longest road he took? Not only because of evading the necessary dangers, but because it was easier for him to control his colossal might that is simmering in him, the power that fears even the One Ring itself, as soon as he approaches closer to them all, Celebrimbor will know he arrived, he can’t hide for very long, but the longer path, gives him the advantage of the more precise mastering of what is hiding inside him, the Endless Winter as well which he is ready to unleash upon the Dark if anything falls down before One Ring, even Jon Snow.

Putting all of his Will and the Malice, indeed paid off for the Lord of the Darkness. Such a little thing and yet, so powerful. There is a saying, the venom is kept in the small bottles, the smallest the vial, keeps the Queen of Thorns. Yes, it was given the affectionate name thanks to Great Olenna Tyrell. What a woman of that was, and her daughter (whom she raised as a granddaughter, the bastard daughter of Ned Stark) is no less, even threatens to jeopardize the place of the Holy Lady she was throughout the first wake of the Moon, even though born as a human, her spirit transcended mortality and she lived immortally as the Spirit of the Humankind, now, all what was hers, belongs to the Queen of Dragonstone, her little Marge to whom he was also Uncle.

Eh, if anything, Ned Stark was a very fertile man who gave to the world along with his siblings, fertilizing grounds that gave the blooming flowers, ones of the grandest Children of Iluvatar that the worlds ever had a reason to behold and this is something they couldn’t ignore. Gods could only rejoice, but they elated, not at all. Too much power and you never know what or whom can be born to the humanity after all. Eh, nevertheless, it is a good thing he didn’t summon any of his harnessed, yet free unicorns or other fascinating animals of magic, Celebrimbor is a sick f*ck, control freak as Ramsay, no doubts so.

- Do you know the birth father of mine while the old man stays only mine, who groomed me into what I am, Stark?
- Here he comes from nowhere, just remind me, who else knows? – Almost everyone except Jon, he always finds out the last. – Go figure, and why do I always have to explain to you for the innumerable times from conception in men to everything else? You are not dumb, just the prying a little Monster of all Monsters. – Hm, listen better to who speaks it.

- I am going just to dismiss you this time. I do not have always my nerves to cope with you, Ramsay, unless you wish upon me, Happy Times for my dear self and Sad for oneself? – It is just one question! – Pretty much expanded, and watch your step. – I know to walk. – DO NOT resist me at every move you got, human! – when he turned, he was the Dragon himself, dear Mother of all Dragons! Never seeing him so pissed off! – Ramsay put his hands up, gulping hardly. - It is not easy living with you, even though, you take care well of everything and…everybody, right? – So, why do you push my buttons? – I don’t know. I just like you! I love provoking that side out of you, you are so cute!

- Oh, God – Glorfindel facepalmed. – The thing is, I am exactly the same, I can’t ever be mad at you, stay for a very long disappointed. – No?! Really?! – he puts down his hands now, the Winter passed. – Yes, but the offer is still on the table. – I am not eating or drinking from that one. I can’t see myself that I spend the eternity under your wing, your roof, drugged to immortality or whatever you do and then, be happy with it, Lord Glorfindel – he chuckles evilly.

- So, you are not only learning your place, but you see for yourself that you are just a small hamster who plays his wheel, that is you. Singing, Déjà vu and Happy Times for his prophetic Master. And if I add to the theory that you are just an overgrown Hobbit, it suits you just finely – Ramsay decides ignoring while watching how his enlivened dwarf Blackie who can reshape however he wants is joyfully pouncing around, till he flips all over again. What a strange party they were, of the three. Especially HIM who just yearned for more details, that was merely all before he felt all up to this throat, the fullness of the Elf Clown, who claimed him, seized, owned, stole in this worn torn world, of the warring battling sides, where you don’t know, anymore, who with him neither how accurately. – I read you. Ramsay. If you are that interested, I brought up Aragorn alongside with none other than Elrond. – No way! You?!

It wasn’t anything out of ordinary, Rivendell is his second home. Despite all, Ramsay didn’t lift his natural shields up, reading him the whole time now.

- I do not mind reading you, unless you are troubled. Ramsay.
- How did I end up this way? – Glorfindel stopped in his tracks, turning on his soles, causing for Blackie to bump into him, flipped on all fours and this is how he stayed for a while. – What?! – I said, how did I end up like this, everyone is normal, I am abnormal. Deranged and sick in the mind.

- Your birth father. – What?! – Aragorn, he knows to torture his prisoners from whom he wishes to get intel by gagging and binding, forcing them to walk until they drop dead, with no food or water. Guided by the simple leash. Is this so ringing to you of someone? – ME! – So? The apple never falls far from the tree, but you are different. In your eyes I see you yearn to be recognized and to live, it is another thing that you believe how it is impressive your way of getting to that turning point of your life. – I see…so...am I better? – At least, you never fake that you are something you are not. There is no pretense, you are you, pure Bolton.

It made his heart swell for the reason that is justified, in spite of all their differences and circ*mstances, at least, the first phase is near the end, the second had begun, still, it bothered him, if he is still a slave or not? Or he is something else? Captive? He couldn’t quite get it, he said that Elrond will have to wait for him to find an appropriate replacement, if something happens unplanned, his Echy or someone from his House will compensate instead.

- For how much…that Elrond paid for me? – The HELL? Where did that come from?! – I am curious about my worth. – Oh, really? I thought how you humans are all like, no human trade, no human trafficking, no slavery, etc. etc. and etc. and look who is asking? Of all?! And please, pick him up, he sleeps again, so that we can continue. – You truly can’t do it without me?! Right?! – a big smile is spread. – You are the crucial instrument of my grand plan. – When you say it, I am scared, now I know my value. – YOU SHOULD BE aware and now, pick him up! – Why don’t you carry him a little, my hands are tired! – Your dog, your responsibility and he has got fleas! – He got it from you! – Now, that does IT!

Ramsay Bolton, the more he spent time with his Glorfindel, he figures more about him, this was a spitting image of Jon Snow! In a golden Elf form! He was feigning it all along, the Big Bad WOLF, and now he even seemed as the prickled chicken with the bristled feathers up! Before he could deliver his justice, Blackie’s ears perked up, starting woofing. Something was coming to their direction, he never snarled that ferociously, nor he was acting as he is ravaging violently, tenacious he is. Without any complaint, he took him into his fatherly hug before Ramsay himself was thrown as the damsel in distress over Glor’s almighty shoulder and as fast as the eyes can’t follow, he was on the zenith of the utmost high and crowned top of the gnarly and primordial tree. If Ramsay didn’t know better, he would have a feeling that this was the monkey, not an Elf.

Yet, just for the precaution, Glorfindel handgagged him effectively albeit holding him tightly, he couldn’t either move or let out a sound, he was secured and shushed. Leastwise, he could breathe properly. After the Shadows passed, he was freed, asking what was transpiring? Tensed Glorfindel had no answer. If he had to go up, without intention to preserve himself in the face of the confrontation and just because he was challenged to uncloak himself, then the hour was nigh. Whatever and whoever runs into it, will have the full hands of the IT. Even so, perhaps, he intended not to reveal himself to Celebrimbor just yet, he still got the upper hand and drastically slowed them down, making them less all – powerful. For the ones who shall have to fight the odds, he has gifted the chance. Specifically to the company of Golden LION.
*
The Promised Oath, the Offered Word and the Granted Promise, give all self to us! You feel as the human, our feels run deeper, it flows liberated. Underground and undewater dungeons.
The One Ring responds to its Twin Ring, so close, and yet so far, it was always like this, cloaked from the sight. Glorfindel was certain. It wasn’t the mistake to give his niece to the Lord of the Darkness, but it was foolish to think that the twin will weaken it with its presence.

*
Just like after all Fingolfin’s women whom High King (Emperor’s brother) situated himself, only Lioness stays to keep all for love.

Chapter 32: The Golden Prince of Gondolin

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At present, he starts nagging Glorfindel about Aule, the Ainu who forged Dwarves first before Elves even appeared, but were put in the deep sleep to be wakened later on, and that was only when Elves who came from Stars inhabited the Earth before the First Coming of the rightly dwellers, after all, they are all the Children of Allfather, but not the legal denizens, masters or owners of the world, thus creating the several realms where each faction has its own law in where the First Three Houses of Free People are of the First Men, Andals and the Rhoynar. Joking at this time of how he learns so much from Glor that he is able to even tell a joke about the Firstborn being the Afterborn in truth and Aule is the proof that everybody can Create Life, so does he too! Implying that Glorfindel is in fact the Creator of the various new life forms, some successful, others not, but the pure perfection were his birth daughter and the chimera adopted son who through Shadow Magic of the enchanted gained his blood, well, there is the saying, no pain and so no gain. Hm, what were his gains? Except the oddly enough circ*mstances with this fiendish, infernal Elf Lord.

- And so, what was this all about?

- They bring what is called the Great Sadness that is melded with the deepest sense of hunger, if you have never felt it, you may die from it. Blackie got so…silent and yet, I had your big hand over my entire face!

- Enough! Silence! I am sufficiently stressed knowing what he did. – Wait, what are those and you mean by… - Yes, Celebrimbor unchained them from his Will, and they are all…the unborn.

- What…wait. – Ramsay – the Elf turns, raising a hand in the warning.

- Please… I am fairly infuriated, vexed for the next hundred years and keep your mouth shut. – What…you are stuffing it with what?!

- Well…my tongue, of course – suddenly, the change of the mood and Glor lunges at Ramsay, his slithering tongue all the way into the Bolton who futilely struggled in his God’s hold. – I will make you mine! Now! Drop your pants! You made me do this, I warned you! – Nooo… I didn…mmm mmmm mmm Blackie… - gasps ensued and Blackie immediately reacted, inciting such the fiery growl that Glorfindel quickly let go of him, with the crazy smiling of his toward the titan dog that is overseeing him from above with drooling. – Ah, little fellow! Do not be so angered, here, I am even lifting him up with the bridal style! – Put me down! You idiot! – Glor stuffs again his tongue into Ramsay.

- KEEP YOUR TONGUE AWAY FROM HIS MOUTH! How many times do I need to warn you!? – Ah, bag of fleas, I should wash you both together, he begins to slack with your care! – the unholy snarl from the bottom of the Seven Hells. – YOU TWO! Stop it and Glorfindel. I am not the Bride! – Mine you are, the Black one too! – You are just digressing from the subject, that is your plan!

- Oh, well, suit yourself – the young man barely got rid of himself when Glor gets into his nutty mode. – And Glorfindel…what has gotten into you?! – When did I give you my permission to be informal with me?! – Come on, we are amid nowhere and you are still playing this charade?! – the elven ears flatten, so strange to see it, only to straighten back and Blackie is also back into his mini dwarf mold with the tiny body and even shorter legs, sometimes he got troubles to even walk fittingly but here is his Mad Master who takes the hold of him, and thus he snuggles always into the advantageous occasion, relating to this moment rightfully. – What do you mean, I do not lie about anything!

- The Unborn of…?! You may fool all them, not me! – They are still dragging their umbilical cords with them. – What?! – The Unborn Children of Elven Race, not aborted, but miscarried, he brought them up from the dead and reformed into that they are with the name I shall no say, not now. And please, do not bother me that much.

- What do you hint at?! What are we going to bump into now?! I know that look! – Just follow my lead and…hm, I am appropriately dressed for this kind of travelling, but you are not…here, let me help you and how do you get so easily dirty!? – I wasn’t, you dirtied me! – Oh, of course! – You are playing innocent presently! – Your speech is improved, when I just remember with all those words out of your ass, but by my side, you are becoming the next maestar! – You are doing it right now! You are openly and rudely dismiss my concerns! – Do not worry, be happy! – Oh, no, the madness got you. – For a little bit, it is hard for me to stay normal for the extended amount of time, you know that. – What are you doing now?! I just can’t follow you anymore! – You shouldn’t, that is the limit of the human mindset, nothing you can do about it, but if you would allow me to expand it for you, no? – he winks.

- NO in SEVEN HELLS! – You are so mean and rude. – Stop jesting! Jester! – absent mindedly stroking Blackie who stretched pleasantly in the land of the dreams, this is what have them both relieved, such a relaxed state while observing the way Glorfindel is taking piles of leaves that are by a simple magic forming into what looks like the formal garments for him to put on himself. – You are attiring me?! – I must, we are going to meet the Queen of Hearts, but first, we must follow the White Rabbit and see by how much the rabbit’s hole is deep.

- What rabbit?! – That one! – truthfully, White Rabbit is waiting both of them. – This is getting weird. – Here, try it on! – taking the yawning Blackie from him was somewhat an inexplicable experience for him, for he senses emptiness of the nest, something what Elves are talking about like it is their creed, now he sees for what it is. And feels more than pleased, it is perfectly fitting, made just for him. – You are so handsome! And now, remain the overgrown Hobbit.

- I am human! And thank you. I got it from my exquisite bloodline. – Full of compromising and unreliable folks. Anyway. You hardly can pass for one, but Hobbit will do. – Why?! – She has a rather big head and suffers the complex of …big head. – And that Rabbit is taking us to her?! Why do you need her in the first place?! – To f*ck her! I mean, I must seduce her to give me some potion that will help us endure for a longer sum of the time. I need to ease myself, and her aid would be helpful for cloaking us better. – And if I am to play Hobbit, what are you going to be!? – Why of course, Elf! I play Elf!

- YOU ARE ELF! You mean, those ears are ugly to her?! Not shaped suitably to her taste?! – You are full of surprises. Let us go! – Wait, what about my Blackie, give him back! – Ah, just let him walk at your side. – He sleeps, he can’t walk. – Then just carry him around! For the love of God! Do I need to think about everything?! Why did I get you for!? Hobbit!

That being so, with the bundle of joy that yawns and nests some more, off they go. The more they were after the White Rabbit, the harder it was to tail its white tail. What was this all about?! Is this really the famed rabbit of the books?! Regardless of the positions of theirs, very soon, Ramsay concluded by his own realizations. Glorfindel speaks in riddles and sometimes incoherently on purpose.

As a matter of fact, he all does with the purpose. Why? The Trees. Yes, you never know, which flower, or the animal, even the leaf or the lady bug could be the spies of his who can send to him the tidings that are reaching his ears or the eyes that are seeing the moving images. This is what literally happened. One lady bug flew by and Glorfindel caught it, when he opened his palm, there was no lady bug but the tiny dead, fell insect. Permitting for Bolton to see that this petty being was all along spying on them! In this way, Celebrimbor still doesn’t know they are coming, or better to say, he is arriving with the unknown him. The White Rabbit disappeared and the veiled sanctuary of Mab’s castle, the Black Queen of Faes and Fairies is unmasked before the two of them. Ramsay is left in the wondrous puzzlement, opening his eyes wider and looking around himself. Those were her Hidden Gardens. One of the Trees, leaned to thank Glorfindel himself.

- Thank you, My Prince, our Lord – Blackie is unfazed, but this disturbed Ramsay so, this wasn’t the Ent, this was… the talking Tree with the watery voice, which sounded in the shades of the greyness. - His minions are everywhere, the eyes and ears which are preying upon us so that the Dark Lord could have his discovery of the last standing sanctum of ours. Each one of them he found, he won’t this one. – You are welcome.

Promptly, the white rabbit reappears and the Tree repositions itself. You would never guess that it has the verdant soul that speaks or the pure heartbeat that sings. They all knew why he did come. For what, to whom, there is the goal. Expecting him. Sensing from afar. Ready to take the infamous trio to their Mistress and the Lady of the Black House, from where, the two most powerful women are created, educated and became the one with the Mother Nature which seems on the surface strictly chaotic, but it had the order where the chaos dwells. What he said to Bolton was no secret, he doesn’t lie, holds no mysteries of his own, for there is nothing for him to hide.

Because once Glorfindel of the Golden Flower uncovers oneself to you, that is all the mystery behind him from which there is no run, you are his. In such a way, he just misled that Lady Bug so that he could catch her, by now, the dead carcass is resolved into the fairy dust. He meant no harm, he didn’t kill it, but it was destined to die if it is discovered. In the least, he is giving the suitable farewell to the spirit that is released from its bounds. That was cheerful, carefree and full of spirits, the spiritual entities, elan of which is composed the fairy dust, with no worry in the world, no longer bound to the Night Will of its Lord of the Dark. She was waiting patiently for King. Cover me in snow alike a raw power that renders beauty to charm!

Chapter 33: Deeply into the rabbit’s hole of the elvish voice

Chapter Text

Asfaloth, the white winged and soaring unicorn of God Elf with numerously added aliases, was always there, bonded since the childbirth, but only into the reached adulthood of the aftercare, he showed up to his Glor and the Elf as the golden haired sun that is basking the world with its silver threads in all its might, glory and unsightliness in which he was the Man. Asfaloth neighs, raising himself, disappearing in the glistered grandeur, coming to the aid of the one who never needed to break him like everyone else to be with him or stay, just like he did with even his unfaithful Prince Swan who loves much more than him to have the open relationship where he can loiter around, biding forevermore for the life mate who is on the long mission, faraway!

- Hey! Asfaloth! What are you doing here?! – You tell me that I am full of surprises, what about you! Is that your horsy with which you stole Sansa and myself!? – You see, Asfa! You are famous even among the Men! – the elven horse and his Master cuddled and snuggled into each other, merry to see one other after such a long time. – You shouldn’t come, I know…he won’t sense you here, but still, oh, you want us to go through this walk together and then you vanish again? Go Back? All right, we will do your way. – What?! And when I suggest, you just dismiss me! – You are human. – I thought that we are… like… you know…comrades! – Glorfindel distances a little his fingers from his horse’s wealthy mane to look back at Ramsay before turning away. – We could be even friends, if that is what you want to believe, but, I am very unfortunate to inform you that it is nothing of it. We are the travelling companions, nothing more, and anything in between that is. Why? Maybe, if you would take my offer and become my human, it would be different, but like this, well, this is the worth you pay for your independence, Ramsay.
-
- You are an asshole. – You are welcome. And oh, Asfaloth! – he looked away from Ramsay to shower his blessed attention upon him. - Look, we have got, I mean…the human, his little beasty too! Yes, yes…you are the prettiest, yes, I will brush your glorious mane right away – Ramsay is watching him and observing, and the Rabbit is waiting. This Elf is doing it all again, intentionally. Just to spite him. Why does he need to be so nasty? Typical male who can’t take the NO for an answer. Pouting. – I heard that, your mind is screaming, shields up! – For you are, perhaps, along with Blackie and Sansa, even Jon, the only at whom I look up to like…not father, but Godfather! – Glorfindel stopped his ministrations, it rings the bells, so loudly, sharply more than ever he thought, getting him back to nostalgia. – Then, let me mark you. – No, I refuse to become your breeding mare as the sex partner for both of you, I have my Sansa – Glor scoffs in his direction.
- You should forget about her, how many times I do need to tell you, she is Celebrimbor’s. You know what that means. You were never stupid, only made like a fool. He is a fanatic to everybody, but never to what is his or his people. Lost to you in every possible way. So, no deal then – Ramsay sulks lovingly.

- She wouldn’t be if you haven’t sold her for the Rings of Power! – this aroused the Wolf in him, snarling and rumbling devilishly.

- Silence! Keep your tongue in or I shall have it as my trophy! – Go ahead! – he has to control himself in front of his…human.

- I am doing this just for Jon. I would never change my mind or had the change of heart. She is my niece, but, at the end of the day, even though she is my brother’s daughter to whom I helped when he called to resurrect her life, I am still an Elf. And my allegiances always lay with the elven. She is a human being that belongs to Celebrimbor and he is something the most similar to the human when you look at him. He is good to her. He must be stopped for his One Ring, but her fate is sealed. She will never be free of him even as defeated or bested. He is coming back eventually for her, it would be Seven Hells anyway, and it is just a matter of time when he makes her immortal.

- The controversial, vilified paradox way of yours?!

- Yes, and it means, in the blue lagoon…cutting her throat and let her bleed out and then he mixes her blood with his…

- No… I thought…how can he do it to Sansa! This is Sansa Stark we are speaking about! Sansa Stark! Are you out of your mind!? Do you even listen to yourself! She is no special, but she is Sansa first, and then Stark! What is the matter with Elves!? She is just a little girl! What the f*ck is wrong with you all!? He has other ways!

- Magic Potions? Even my King Turgon to whom I vowed myself, knows those days are ending. We are returning to the Old ways. What was a nice dream, now is something to last, not having you die on us ultimately. With or without the sign language amongst selves, for regarding elvish, we do not need even your tongues, but we are nice to you as long as you obey. And now, hop on with the sleeping one!

- No. – Do I need to repeat myself?! You know what happens if you…

- When are you going to stop treating me as your slave?! When are you going to see me as an equal!?
- Again, you humans and your concept of equality! I am going to make you if… - Blackie’s beady eyes were awake, wide open, how wouldn’t with all this arguing around him, hopping out from the Master’s protective hands, he confronts curiously Asfaloth, two men are observing, stopping the senseless fight between each other. At once, he has grown bigger, willing for Ramsay to mount him, just as Glorfindel will his riding companion and everything else stayed in between, the mutual understanding that they are sharing unspoken, with no heed for words. Contemplating about what they attended to, both men felt ashamed, specially Glorfindel who should rise above the human trivialities and yet, he can’t escape that part of his that was human. – You gained a human heart, didn’t you, staying immortal? Wow, you are really something. – Shut up and hop on, she is waiting still, as well as the White Rabbit. – Ha! I got you! This is my first victory over you! Oho! Over the disreputable God Elf amid kin.

Rolling his bright eyes, let him have it, being proud of himself, lightly discarding his human pointless and absurd propensity, rising up above his own humanity, not permitting to hold him back, slow down or drag away. But, one day, it might come in handy and this is something that he left in his…heart to fester, the point that might shift the faces and foundations in the furthest corner of what he is. Because Gondolin Houses that gave births to Princes and Princesses, innumerous Lords and Ladies of the elven kind are not for just anything exalted and being ennobled.

For they can wait, all the time is their dreams, however, not on their side of the wish. Following the patient White Rabbit even further into his hole, they are seeing all the sparks, sparkling and fairy creatures how they are in all directions fluttering and illuminating their paths, Ramsay felt wordless, Glorfindel got better with the mood all thanks to the enthralling ambience and the fairy beings that are mightily inquisitive about Blackie who is three in one, direwolf, and Great Wolfhound of the Werewolf bloodlines of War. Yes, Valinor and Middle Earth together, who would tell. They are being welcomed heartily, having seen they are harmless and mean well.

Anywise, Dragons are not getting all the way in, the more they are deeper into Magic of the East, it is too much magically powerful for them to put up with Dragon Magic of their own. For they are Magic itself who brings it along the miracles and make even the regions bettered, overshadowed by the outclassed dreaming dominion.

This is the truthful paradox, because the Magic of the East doesn’t let far for the winged magical beasts to fly and soar much either, staying behind and letting Targaryens of Elves freely, to go on without their looming shadows which are overseeing and overreaching the roofs of Arda, only if necessarily, they are spreading their webbed wings from the place they were in hiding.
- At last, welcome, gentlemen – Elf cavalierly as such a dashing man, is down, his unicorn transported, albeit Blackie is this time fairly much not a sleepy bundle of joy that snores a lot, but a prying wee doggie by the side of his Master who is together with a tiny him, watching the way Lord Glorfindel is acting toward her, kissing her gentle hand prior to having their jointed attention. Of Elf and the unnatural Fae Queen. – Is that him? – Yes, he is, you may evaluate him. – Hey! Queen as her doesn’t ask your permission to near me! – cordially cackling of the femininity is heard, something that distracts him. – He is still possessing his tongue? Impressive. – What can I say, I am bonded to him. – What…- he tried it.

Feeling how he is losing the ground beneath his feet. Glorfindel was something doing to him. Telling him, go to sleep. I will wake you, Blackie is going to guard you. Your eyes are of the human, you are not granted by me to see beyond what you had already witnessed. In his head, he entered so easy. Hearing him. With no say in this, he is dazed and weak at the knees. Before all is blurred and darkened, he senses that he is collected up fondly and placed into the warm nesting place of the light fairies and Dark Faes. Hence, Blackie really proved himself as the perfect guardian dog. Anyway, he finally met the enchanted Mab. The Queen of all that is made out of the purifying Magic of Mother planet of theirs. Consisting of all the witching truly.

Such a human heart is judging, indeed, mortal, immortally. Learned, Self-taught or natural learner. Either way, enjoying you so, in my bondage of song. Silent cries he gave to beyond…

Because of which, Mab enquires Glorfindel why he didn’t take anything to eat or drink, it was kindly lush and lavishly set and offered. He didn’t even let his human, Ramsay to take what was filled along the way while being brought to her. She asked, sitting down at the head of the table. He preferred to stand and look out the embellished window which frames are gilded in black gold. His answer was as usually, charming. If they drink or eat, they stay forever. She was so sly.

- I will feed us, get us spring water and take such great care when we are out of your web. Mab, you are on their side, not mine – she grins darkly. – You taught him patience. For Elves do not have neither punishment or reward they gift as justice to us.

Chapter 34: Grand Maesters of Today

Chapter Text

When he is alone with his thoughts. He is very much thinking about his human father who had to leave him in his own world to return to his. Lots of times he would ask himself, how did he look like? Who was he? His mother only much later confessed that he was of the ancient lineage, considering that it was evident that he was the Half – Elf, the hybridization always leaves the trail that can be smelt in the blood, it was upon him to choose what is going to be, that something which stems all the way from Conan the Barbarian from the North, thus he was the Northern Barbarian as well, and this is all what people could tell about him, never the true depth of which he found out innumerable eons ago.

What did he think of him? When he returned to the Third age, only to find out that he changed the First forever and that the name he told to anyone, will come to haunt them one day. Winter is coming. People think it is of the North, the very old saying, but only with Rickard Stark, it became the alive prophecy he promised to them all. He knew that he had the elven son, out there, who will with bare hands, change the Life of Arda and so it was. He merely placed the Wolf among the Sheep. For the Sheep Rule, but the Wolf watch over them not to go astray for a very long. You thought uncountable hours about me, that you made of me the Winter you all now fear. And what comes with it. I was always someone you loved from the distances. I am just sad I couldn’t meet your expectations as human. I wished to meet you. I never dared. Mab is watching how this proud elvish King is grappling his own odds, all what he needs is to give into.

- You bring to yourself a lot of pain. – He has delivered it to me. – I know, it hurts. – You don’t know how much I am hateful of Starks. I didn’t ask to be born, to be alive, nothing of it. – Yet, you cling to… - Life? No – he faces her – I hold on to my Pride, that is what makes me still me, that keeps me and my soul bearable for Arda. For once you are gone as you, others take it, it is gone with winds, along all sorrow of which I am.

White Winds are blowing even today, wherever he goes, the Winter follows. Sometimes, Spring comes, but all idyllic gifts and marvels of snow is here!

- Never before my kingdom was so…fair. – Did you make me a potion? To last my disguise from the One Ring?

- Yes, you may take it so. I created it before you even stepped in – the little glassy vial with the purple color in was unhurriedly appearing in the twinkling exhibition. – I put even some of my special charm, to make you feel better. – I do not seek your pity – he grabbed, and she places her tender hand over his large one, he looks at her.

- It is no shame asking the help from a friend. I am your friend. Glorfindel. This is no mercy either, this is compassion and it is free. Do not give me you gold. You have no debt toward me. Glorfindel. Your father named you. Not the mother as many think. Why would such a man ever give such a name to the boy if he thought that all what you are going to stay is…Elf.

- You are friend of humans. – And what are you then, the Elf who attained the human heart and the immortality that breaks the worlds apart? – I never… - I know, asked…but sh*t happens all the time. Let go, forgive and…

- FORGET!? – he lashed out at her. – You have no idea! How it f*cking hurts when you are in the back of someone’s mind, as the burden he conceived! You feel it, sense, smell, when you find out…it kills the last humanity in me if there ever was. I failed with the godly triumph that ever someone succeeded. My name is not great because I won, yet, for I lost! – his brimming tears are not falling, still, he is full of them in his diamonded irises.

- Do not play with me Mab and here…

- I said, I don’t want your gold – he puts it into her palm, opening it imposingly, only for her to take it and all what is costly, smash it upon his unearthly face, golden coins scattered alike silvered snowflakes at his feet, leaving him shocked and her triumphant.

- And you may take some food and drink, everything that is necessary. You know that I only tested you.

- I hate my father.

- Do not hate his children, your siblings – he glances at her.

- All what you did, was the necessary evil for God, you willingly offered to be his Vengeance if he bestows you a chance that no one gave you, but what you did with your niece, is merely revenge. You did it for you wanted to exact vengeance. Now, you are avenged. King is dead because of you, starting selfishly for someone else all that unfolds. I know you. You brought her to life, kept her among us, living, so that you can feel suffering, the same you were all these years harboring. I will tell you the truth that everyone strays away to tell you. She suffers a lot. Are you happy now? Did it finally make you…at peace? No…? Is this the guilty conscience or what? Exactly? They do not know you. I do as the olden Sun and the young Moon.
Glorfindel was facing the strewn coins of the glittering gold around him. Reminding him of his beginnings, his wolvish glare moved at where Mab was!

- I remember poverty. I couldn’t buy even a loaf of bread for myself.

- You instead hunted.

- All what I got from my slavery is all what I had on myself and my mother on the day of freedom I took for us.

- The hunted down animals, served as needful resources for clothes you made for yourselves too.

- What dirty, hard and what no one dared...duties I have done, which turned into what they are now.

- No one is going to judge you for surviving frost, having harvested the firewood for the cozily nice fireplace, the hearthstone of your new hut. You starved, you were cold, you know how to live and survive.

- And yet, it had caused… Night Lords. From the Night King of Hurin’s blood rage who are disguised Starks, to the Fall of Gondolin, to even now… as the Winter for the North. I wanted riches and gold. To see how it is when you are on the other side, to retake what was my noble line all along. I thought… this is it. Changed nothing. I have it, I give it and you…toss it as they are the mere rocks! And are you aware for how many conquests I had, to garner such wealth and opulence for my family and self!

- And? – What? – Did it give you any joy? Are you now different because of your luxuries?! You were on knees, today, you are the one who brought others to their filth.

Lands, people, all those possessions, belongings and properties, all fell before him, the Wall never, while the ownership over the Life he shall never own.

- No dragging spoils of war behind your elvish horse’s tail? Or on other horses, owning their chains.

- Those were days, nice memories, when it was simpler. When I was free to do whatever my blood craved for, when I was myself and no one judged me for what I could be, but for what I was, I am the Barbarian of the North. I didn’t think, I just did! No morality, no excuses, just my liberation. – And this one? – Ramsay? – Yes.

- He attempts to flee me, I warn, prevent, he plots again and…

- The vicious circle continues, just the way you like it, having it no other way.

- I would like to bring him to my Gondolin.

- And once those diamond Gates are closed behind him, it is the game over. Never to see the light of day without your approval after it. This is what you want for him? – Glor snorts.

- He is too smart to tempt or be lured in.

- Your golden voice doesn’t help either?

- No – he puts the enchanting vial into one of his pockets. – You care for him? – Yes.

- He is willing to do all for you, what you ask. Glor. You are attentive that you hold his life in your heart. You are everything what he wants to be. One forlorn bastard such as him, the monster of monsters among humans and thanks to you, he becomes something better, and by him, you have got humanity back into yourself!

You are special. Glorfindel. In my head? He never left, you know. He waited and I granted. I am after all, the Line between Death and Life. The Elf of the white shining and auric gleams couldn’t believe if he hadn’t experienced. Mab and her realm faded and what remained are the humanly contours of the purely old King of the North. Rickard Stark. She did it…for him?! To at long last, reclaim his peace. Rickard was ashamed, for he was just the ruins of his respective shell and look solely upon what he sowed, how he has grown and matured into the elvish adulthood of the man. His son found no words, the father finds no voice. They are looking at each other, gazing with the losing glares, lastly, he had spoken.

- Hello, my son. You are my snow.
***
The shared bond, the sharing feels, yearning the recognition, raspy sound of fae voice, for no fame, connections or gold, will save you from the sorrows.
The shining gold of sin, the shiny white is blackness of virtue. The Great Blood Angels, all the cherubs, seraphs and archangels are invoked from dream.
Death crystal echoes, the crystalline clear bellows are etched upon our cleansed Walls. Of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. In between is the void of the greatness of Primarchs, the re-embodiment into one name but two bodies of the same spirit, angelic Prince Michael is reborn through Elf and Targaryen. The Blessed Prince of God’s army comes in the time of the greater need.
*
Brought into the bondage by the immoral bonds while still in the mother’s womb, only to be born as a slave, trying to escape, ended to be enslaved once again. He knew a feeling and yet, by the elvish proclaimed rights, he served the same to the others after breaking those chains of theirs which held him down, and under all the blame, he just wished for One Ring to be weakened, for it can’t perceive its twin, to no avail, must interfere, he was wrong. Save Sansa.
Hence, I get to be not your Great Uncle as his son Daemon of House. Just, Elf Uncle of yours.
I will give upon my life, to save his Sansa, his brother’s daughter. My niece, forgive this Fool.

*
From the darkness, deliver us to the fair lightness in our senses of selves. Hot breath is slipping away…

*
P.S. Ramsay is still prohibited with being too far intimate…I am his Lord f*cking Glorfindel!

Chapter 35: In the furthest of the dark dancing Shadows

Chapter Text

I am King’s son, but you are King, said Robb to Jon. The truth is echoing, blood in our shells are mere ghosts of our Past. The Father is watching the Son who doesn’t blame, do not frame or is resting with the accusing eyes of his that finally found out what it means to dream of the future. The only Elf who in reality dreams with the closed eyes, and sleep. That was Glorfindel, staying the Elf to the end. That was his Creed. Alone with the Phantom!

- You bed her, had the intercourse, you laid with the Elf, leaving her, I know why, to her fate that lurked nearby. – I am a mortal, I had no place with your kind and I had to return, I just merely answered her call, hoping for the better future. That was…the Pact.

- And, what do you see? Something from the nightmare or what you imagined to dream?

- It was all the time, just you. Besides, who is older of the fraternal sisters? The Twin Lady of the Lake, Nimue the Blood Witch or her sister, the Fae Queen Mab of the Undead realities. For it is the thin line between the Death and Life, and you sensed who put the sword in the stone, so, judge by yourself. When you create, you create magnificently and this is all I can tell you, my son. You were the creation that had to be given birth. It was anguishing, but look at you, nowadays, you are more human than you ever were, not because humans are better but human doesn’t even mean being one, it is you who is becoming our God Emperor of Mankind.

Someone who is of the both worlds, to pass down of what is the best and the worst, the beauty and ugliness unto the next generation as was Jon Snow.

- Dad – Glor is suffocating in his undying emotions. – I always loved you, son. You know that, this is what stems your hatred, you didn’t want this and this is your…Golden Path of Faith. Out there, far into a dark and grim future, there will be heresy, you will find little joy in your command, but with the luck, the strength will come to you to do what needs to be done. You will know what it is, when you are confronted with the One, son.

Rickard hugged Glorfindel, holding him close, taking the big hardened Elf into his warriorlike chest, enclosing man’s mortal arms around his own birth son and Glorfindel lets him, granting his human father to humanly embrace the inhuman, for it was inhumanly of him not to do it so, letting out the ages of the suffering alone, gaining recognition he hungered for so much, it doesn’t ever need to come from the North, he was happy and satisfied if only he is with him. Never leaving his side. This is what Rickard chose. He was at all times there, with Glorfindel. Just as Ned is watching over his pack, and so Rickard never abandons the golden haired child.

- Go now. Live, but do not kill the boy inside. I am not the one who is going to tell you what is your life. You made it on your own. You don’t…need me.

- Dad…I need you like the cherished air for breathing. Please, don’t go – and yet, such an Elf Man and before the Old Man, he is once again the child who longed for the fatherly figure that is bestowed to him in the hour of the…greater need. – Let me go, Glorfindel, you can’t see me even if you are Elf, you are not allowed. But trust me, the veil that is sundering us, is just the veil I see you through it. Only when you die the sure death someday and that day shall come, only then, my soul will find the rest with your spirit, and together, we fly, till it comes, the time, wait a little more. You are parent, a father too. You are considerate of what I am telling you. So, please, release me. Your powers are still young, raw and full of vigor, but not today. Son, today is not your hour. It is his who will light the path for your Glory and his own ascendency.

Jon Snow. Everyone is connected. Every death, each life and the mere thought, it is all alive. And the father evanesces, shining into the afterlife next to him to abide. And he cried and cried, wept and wept without bitterness, liberated, the hard tears of the Men fell, but not of the extraordinary as he always was, but of the ordinary as it is, it was the lamentation for what he did, all the wrong-doings and the good acts, forgive me, stammering, it was such the ultimate shock, for he grieved for all eternities, bemoaned sorrowfully that the World stood still and listened, what he kept inside, that is why there is a saying, the human feels, but Elf much deeper, leading to its own death, falling to his knees, he puts his pallid forehead upon a fruitful ground!

- Glorfindel! – Ramsay woke up from the enchantment in which he was placed, nervously looking around while the Fae World is dancing on all sides, looking up at the Woman in the purple who stands by his side.

- He needs you. I am Mab, but even I can’t heal the human heart, it can only do another human. Go to him, he doesn’t call for you. But he yearns for someone and that is you. He is the proud man. Rather dying. Even prouder Elf. Go and remember, when you enter, whatever he says or does, it is…his unforgiving pain going throughout him, abandoning him, he requires someone who is going to rise him when he falls. He chose you. You, above all humans, know what it means when you are pushed aside.

For being the bastard. No child of his, and yet. He springs to his light feet and as his heart knows, he follows the Shadows of the shiny gold.
Finding Glorfindel as the Shadow of himself, all the hatred, resentment and loneliness that mercilessly assailed and crucified his body was taking its toll which had no one to pay off. He was dying. Clutching at his firm breast, thinking, this is it. No, he doesn’t want, he has got so many things to do, not now, he hasn’t repented. Please, I do not fear death, but I have the unfinished business. NOOO! GOD! NO! Smothering began, his breath is failing, betraying, he beats it monstrously, to keep it going, but it was a definite demise and suddenly, the sun beams he sees, the door is ajar and Ramsay peeks in. Never before thinking that he is going to find him in such a state.

Not weak, but destroyed and fallen. Was this...without any heed, throwing all caution to the white snow winds he rushes and kneels before his Lord. Friend and the Godfather. No, please! What can he do?! Glorfindel is not pushing him from oneself, not pulling toward him, nothing and yet, he is barely breathing!

What can he do?! He is just a human! And then, he knew, what is the most precious to any living being, sentient and…unloved. His life. This is it. He is just one, but Glorfindel’s life is much more invaluable, it had no price, but his life had its worth, and if that referred giving upon his, that it shall be. Drawing out the God Elf sword, he is going to commit suicide, his blood will allow for God Elf to live, but after unsheathing and prior to doing it, the glamorous thunderbolt is ripping the skies in half and Glorfindel reached for Ramsay’s hand, stopping him from committing the idiocy, the foolishness of the centuries! Punching him so hard that he fainted, straddling him, sitting and all of his burly weight is resting upon the dazed common bastard whom he slapped vigorously one slap after another, yelling at him totally enraged.

- You fool! – wrathfully he is killing each inch of Ramsay for even thinking about taking life. – I am your death, I am your life, when did I give you my permission to die?! When!? You impudent moron. You are mine! I hold your life in my hands, you are in my grasp. I have the hold over you, you stupid simpleton – he is now getting, this is what saved him…indeed, he bursts into the bitter crying, shaking him to the marrowbones, he almost killed him.

- I am so sorry, such a foolish idiot! – he sobs, weeping his grief over Ramsay’s unconsciousness, bawling nearly to the hysteria, attempting to wake him up, nudging him, only for Ramsay to open his eyes, as though he experienced the hangover – So, this is how it feels. – Bolton, you are alive, forgive me! Condone me! Please, take my humble apology, wholeheartedly! I didn’t mean to! You are a bit red in the face, but you are going to live! It will pass and...what did you mean by you know how it feels?!

- Well – had a bit trouble to speak, Glor is heavy – saving a Life.

It was intoxicating, pervading all of his moments in life. Giving your own for someone else’s, it is this why God adores sacrifices, the willing ones for someone else’s. There is no greater FEAT in God’s eyes than the sacrifice of yourself for the other’s life. It doesn’t even matter if that life is worthy or not, it was life. Now, he…got it. Forgiving and apologizing to Glorfindel. He is right, what are the two of them, without each other? They are stuck. And the Elf, lastly, is off of him, helping him stand. In the corner of the sole room, Mab is gracing them with her ethereal presence, smiling softly, so tenderly that it was no wonder why such a woman was one of the most powerful Afterworld’s Mistress. The Life is the One Ring’s mastery, but the Death was her territory and she did it splendidly. Sparing a life is one of God’s most majestic works. This is why she was here. All the creatures of any world knew Life, but the Death was her friend and she could always ask Mandos the favor or two.

Why not? After all she is that thin line from your imagination and reality. She gives you inspiration, she inspired you when you are down, she is every step at your side, Great Fae Queen Mab whenever you fall and impels you to stand up, and really, what kind of Power such as hers, could ever deny the truth as death? The three continue a quest of Life.

Blackie wisely watched similarly to the champion that protects and the warrior comrade who defends. It is easy to be the man of great courage, when the valiance is the bravery that is unmeant for you, but be the lionheart, lionized into the belief that you can do it, then even those tears come to be light as if cosmic, space Wombs of interstellar and planetary voyaging.

The Owl hoots in the darkening distance, enjoying the sweet scent of marzipan, it is streaming across the farthest of the reaches and ends with Arya who hones her skills with emerald sais blades that can be transformed from a silver embedded dagger, Jon’s gift, seeing herself with chakram and whip. Blood plasma, prism of tissue, the substance of the Creator was the womb.

Meaning of all Angels, purpose of Heirs (neither Prince or Princess doesn’t require to be) and the intention of the Dark Lady of Death, angelic and free. No more grieving, suffering grief.
No matter the might, it runs out, for you may bleed, thoroughly. Needing to lay eyes unto what it seeks for demands of feudal lords are compensations at the grimmest hours.
*
The Long War…begins and Black Crusades end, foreseeing the Elder Days of the Men in arms. Aware of all, yet, in a dungeon, craves for the freedom. Reimagined into the warm, beating heart or the cold, destroying heartbeat, belonging to him, owning us unto the holiness.
Thus, we come to the question of the 4th Age, many will try, but only one will pull out the Sword in the Stone. Who will that be? That can be only solely one. And no, it is not him at all.
Symbolizing the new Era of King of all Kings, the one who unites not by blood, but by the virtue of the Knight of Seven Realms. Paving the path for not just any Emperor, but of, MEN!

Chapter 36: The Solar Force of the Lunar Will

Chapter Text

Compared to Morgoth, the Devil itself, yet, I remain the Elf Emperor of all Elves, united under the Creator of the Second Earth, the dark in me will never be diminished, arise my grandson of Men. They feel your growing power, they constrict harder, soon, nothing will hold you and your Pack here. The more human you become, do not forget, remember…the more you are vulnerable to the power of the One Ring. Unfair, indeed. But that is the evil of the world that uses the mightiness of good for its own downfall. However, Lord Rhaegar and the Hand of the King, Haldir, do not give up so easily and what they started, they are going to carry out.

Once more, with Jon Snow who was greeted in his solitary exclusion in his lonesome cell as the ostracized bastard he was, yet, all wasn’t what seemed, and very often those who held the real power are confined, but the ones who manipulated it, were the first to fall, deemed as the strongest. When Jon saw them how they enter, he stood up, they had to garnish even some additional golden fetters on him, in which he was put in, consequently, chaining him to the steel walls, as it could ever stop him for very long. That is why they were here, for the negotiations. Haldir knew, if he wants freedom, the price were his humans who willingly joined him.

Not him. Certainly, they will even ask for one thing that is impossible to give. For Sir Jaime Lannister to give up on his daughter to whom he gave birth in the blood and fire. Little Lady, the silver Princess Rhaenyra, both emblazoned in the Dragons, just the way she was decorated as the Lioness. God forgive them, they do not know what shall they would unleash. Lannisters are no just Men, Lannisters are Lions.

Kingslayers if they have to, Invaders, but God Forgive anyone indeed, if you touch their blood for which they bled to the death and ends of the worlds. He feels it back into the deepest nooks of his mind, for the daughters are precious, especially if she is one who carries the human…nonetheless, Lannister blood in self. Many of their Wombs are molded by Lannister’s brains they extracted from the dying flesh. Monsters in all of their grandeur, yes, he was connected to Arya in those moments and he knew everything except for one thing that will be told to him right away. There was no need, not necessary to play the game. The steely dungeon doors are locked behind a duo.

- Haldir, what do they want now? I was specific. No human, no blood and no…Rhaenyra. – Listen to this, before you jump to the conclusions, I am on your side. My Lord Mate, Maglor, you know him well, you spoke to him with your King and Lord Father, the very Sire on that fateful day, he is a bastard and annoying, but he changed. For the world changed and…
- And you still think that I am going to concede to such terms? You know me more well than anyone. For perhaps, it is changed for him, for us, still stayed the same. – Your Uncle Maglor, as just one of the 6 birth Uncles, wouldn’t want for you to needlessly die. – As you can slay me.

- Why are you so adamant like the bull who doesn’t see anything except for the red flag we are waving in front of you? – it was Rhaegar, as the musical minstrel, talented more with the violin than any other weapon which was, in all realities, his ability to swoon you mightily. – Lord Rhaegar. Soon, oh, not just by my power, but there are those who are coming and I will be released, and then…if you force us… - Are you aware that Glorfindel is the King, not you? – these words which are spoken by none other than Rhaegar himself, the non-destined father of his in another reality that is interlaced and felt as the part of something when you meet someone and you tell to yourself, I know this man, this person, Déjà vu. This is what he senses right now and the words he said, cut deeper, flowed mightier than any other before him.

- I…

- Someone would express that you took it from him, your own bastard Uncle, yes, I sent to your open mind, all the truth, that it was given, Jon. The Throne. Why would he have it? When he holds the Future? He knew you are better at this, and yet, you are slower like the rest of the Starks, regarding your minds, even your treasured sister Sansa whom you could never take, even if you dared to claim, as yours, but even she doesn’t see first the forest, but the rows of the lined trees behind which the whole lives are living from beyond. – Rhaegar. – The most heroic thing you can do is to hand over Rhaenyra. She is both human and Dragon, the elven One.

They are all elven, of Elves, and yet there is that distinguished difference when the Half – Elves are in question, crossbreeds are peculiar for such a race.

- No.

- There shouldn’t be any shed blood between us. Jon.

- No.

- He is just a human, he will understand. – This is Jaime Lannister you are speaking about and he won’t say he is sorry, he doesn’t apologize like the rest of US for what is ours. He lost too much to now even give up on his pride as the father. Those are humans for you. But, what would you know? Nothing. As once my Great Father, the King Sire said, those who seek enemies, at first, find them in Yourself!

- Yet, he did just that. Your father, who agreed, and sacrificed the honor of Robb. – Stand down, Rhaegar. You are treading on the dangerous, filthy territory. – Step aside, Haldir, someone has got to tell him.

- Tell me what?! – it was as though that the birthing blood, alike the born one, newly…is seeded in him. – Your father was behind this all. He knew the truth, for this was the only way to save THE NORTH, THE STARK HOUSE, ALL OF THEM, and what is one daughter…for all of you? For the Wall? Just give her. Hand over Lannister’s daughter and deliver yourselves. She is just one… one life. She isn’t even worth it, that much. She is a girl.

- Why don’t you be the Beasts and own her yourselves? No, because you need the approval of mine, so that it is the clean cut. – Jon, I can’t help you. Choose, you are going either to prove if you are the True Dragon by burning at the stake, firstly you will be rigorously whipped and so put on the scaffold or you will give your concession – at that moment, Lannister felt it, both their mutual heart hurt them. The one they shared together.

He gave his half - life to Lannister. He is bonded to the House of Lions, and now, betraying them, is worse than death as this. They gave everything, and this to be their reward?! If he must burn, but, then, Sansa? Who will save her?! What if Bolton and…God Elf don’t succeed? To give up his word?

He never gave upon anything, he shan’t start it now, yet all is thrown into nothing. Let them all see, how King suffers and dies? Someone of you would think that the moment he touched the empty vial in which was laying the small girl’s gift for him, so he could as a human among those whom he teaches what humanity is, have a better sleep, that this is the moment when he came to the choice.

No, you think so little of Jon Snow. He never stopped to cling upon it. If daughters are of little worth, then, why all the Life roots for them? Among all the revelations, this one was disastrous. For Rhaegar showed him, the horrors beyond reimagined. Not how he would experience, persuaded to the submission for he never bent, too much naïve and green, but it was the look upon all those faces, what it meant, and signified for the Northmen. It would destroy them, seeing him being humiliated, naked, whipped, put on the gallows and mocked.

And he did burn. He burns. All those powers, being the Dragon, the Elf, one of them, when he was born then, his grandfather said, as a REAL HUMAN. More than any of those who should be. This was your truth. What you wanted to know. It is revealed so.

That was his weakness, the one that should be his strength and even then, when he knew, unaware and unbeknown to him if this is just something to make him bend the knee, he never FELL. Never. He sat down and said. As the rightly King he was ever to his people. Do your duty. That is Jon Snow!

- Dad, is everything going to be all right? – With Bolton for your Godfather, and Brienne to knight you one day, what could possible go wrong when we are surrounded by good people.

- But, Dad, I feel the coldness in the warm air, it is icy. – Rhaenyra. – I am afraid for our King. Dad, you promised that you are his Guard, will you defend him? Do you keep your word? You said to me that the House of Lannister stands behind its King, no matter that we are outlanders, for he is ours. He did all what he had to keep us safe. You all – the little one stands amid with her baby dragon that is hidden in her small pocket, but now creeps out into the light of day, what is the point of keeping it secret and proudly on top of her silver head, made its nest, spreading wings and cutely roaring, endearing everyone present who lost their spirits - gave your vows to protect him too. Are your the MEN…of honor? – it broke all limits he thought he has along others, and somewhere, the bred golden lions with the flying wings of their own are out of the East of the Magic, coming to aid the Lords of Castamere that are coming alongside with the Tywin Lannister at the Head, as the last remnant of him in this world, for everything went into the Womb, he is marching and seeing as the Wraith, the phantom golden lions how are emerging from the black grounds. Finally, my son.

You wakened that power of ours. It is the power of the Lions! We are coming, hang in there! Lannisters pay all their debt. Arya Stark fulfilled hers like everyone else, oh, Lannisters keep their oath to the end.

At that hour, and in that place, Jaime Lannister was never more thankful for what he had in his life. He is never going to regret. For he would never know how much he damn mighty he is as the Golden Lion. All of his family should see him now. What would they think of the Doorkeeper who aroused from the slumber the strongest secret of the Lion House? Well, he would really like to see all those Elves now against him. They are all standing up, together. 300 of them, alone, in their imprisoned chambers, Sam and others, everyone is bracing for what is to come, so near. Barehanded they go. The elven guards are notifying their Elvenking of the Woodland realm. The Humans are rising. Jon is not falling. He stepped in, he must intervene now!

Ygritte and Lady howled into the forgotten night…forebodingly. For 301 was…the Elf. Hail to the King, Long live the King. HOOOWL! And ROAR!

Chapter 37: The First Snow from the North…bides the Far East

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Starfields. Legolas is sensing their arrival. He has to be quick. One more ordeal, if Jon and his people pass this as well…he will have no choice but to let them go. Others will disapprove, but he knows what it is down to him to do, just in such a way they are able to survive Mordor. Ensuring their survival, if not, this is how it must be, even he can’t fight the white winds. By oneself, he entered into the dim, lighted room where the King in the North is kept.

- What do you want now?

- Please, let me speak. I am here to help you.

- You are battling on two warring sides. You will have to choose, are you staying on the opposing or you play the game.

- I play the game, if it were just me, I would let you without hesitation. No qualm, no doubt, anything that keeps you and your fellowship from your freedom.

- So, what is your suggestion? – Jon was taken aback.

- Valar Morghulis – at first, he didn’t know how to act, at all, instinctively, answering.

- Valar Dohaeris.

- Jon. I am letting you all go, but, some of your people, they must stay for breeding, as the token of goodwill.

- I knew there is a catch.

- I lined them all up – this disturbed Jon, getting up, threateningly. Steel shackles clank.

- For what?! What are you intending to do?!

- Calm down. They are before the choice.

- And what choice is that?!

- It is all up to you now, Jon. Your pride or them.

- Legolas.

- Brother, bear with me. I have to do it, if there is the chance. You have no notion, but my realm is in the gravest danger ever. The One Ring reaches far and…I have to test you or He will know, and so, you shall have no HOPE to pass the East of Magic, I am doing it, as the favor to you.

- So nice of you.

- No, you don’t realize it yet. If you really think that you are all strong minded as you say, prove it, and, everything what happens, belongs to your destiny, in your hands, back with the reins of chains by your hold of selves.

- This is it, the play of wits, well, let me tell you this. Your precious Aragorn, has the bastard son – this indeed made Legolas upset, vividly.

- I know you know, I know even his name. Ramsay Bolton – with this revelation, Legolas is about to lose his composure.

- It will be my last to tell the truth, and you know I was always all about realizations.

- You wouldn’t dare.

- You know what is the difference between the Trueborns and Bastards? Unlike you, we hold each other’s backs. You are aware of my truth, what I am telling you. You feel it in me, myself, not just the voice. We are not to be treated as the possessions, the property of Elves. We are not spoils of war.

- How do you know?! – Jon’s smirked, oh, now he is playing the game and he plays it by checkmating. What are you going to do at present? The Elvenking of the Woodland Realm.

- I want to show it to you. Jon. Now. Walk with me – with the single movement, swift as the breeze, Jon Snow was released and not only that, even that force of the Magic of the East, doesn’t keep him grounded, not as though he is asking someone if he may pass, only to deduce, that there is Magic alike the Wall, securing the Door he can’t pass prior to his submission or bowing to the Elves.

- I don’t need my sword…just bare hands. – Here is your Longclaw – surprise after surprise.

- Sheathe it, that is it. You trust me? – Haldir reappears.

- Don’t worry, I chased away that Dragon, only Silvan Elves remained in the central chambers and side quarters, still, they are skulking around while outside of golden cage of yours, are all our people. Of the Wood and North! – Jon is awed. It was Haldir! All along! His Hand of King, he never betrayed him. Legolas, may rethink his actions, but it was Haldir who pushed him further to it. Gandalf. Oh, you were always inspiring from afar. He knew exactly what he was doing when he gave Haldir…to him. The new sensations are overpowering him, especially about Legolas of whom he thought just as another Elf, then.

He danced the double game masterfully, including Haldir of whom he thinks as the perfect Hand he never even deemed or reckoned to have. The Elf, amidst them all. And for the first time, just as Legolas is addressing him as the brother, for they were grandchildren of the same GrandSire, and for that reason, he acknowledged him so. Confessing, which made the elvish heart of Legolas to bloom. Haldir was rejoiced. Even so, all three had to be quick, he can’t hold much longer, his Elves nor the Dragons, keeping them at bay. He may be King, but even the King has its limits when the people of the elven kind are demanding blood and fire. Jon followed both of them. In the middle being flanked by Legolas on the left and his…Elf, on the right side.

It was out of control, something that had to be controlled. Legolas immediately before meeting Jon confronted Lord Rhaegar, Hand of the Queen, Rhaenys and Master Aemond, the three who expected after fulfilling what they owed and debts, to be repaid as well, he played dirtily, ordering after the rise of Jon’s pack to at once lead them away, ushering into the safest place of his landscapes while he deals with the Dragon people who didn’t trust him not even a bit, for changing of the heart is smelt from far away, despite it all, Legolas isn’t giving in so easily to either of the sides. Gandalf aid me.

- Ladies and Gentlemen, very soon, all will be decided. – What did you plot? – asked Rhaenys, the Old blood is running through her. – As you know, I do not have any dues toward you, but, seemingly, we are just taking the humans for the breaking of the will. After it, they are all yours, I promise you that. – And you keep your oath? – Aemond was suspicious too unlike Rhaegar who desires for everything to end with no carnage.

Legolas nodded, confirming, considerably gladdening them, showing where all of them to wait, escorted by his Silvan kindred Guards, noticing many fraternal twins or identical among Targaryens, what is the connection between all those together born children of Dragons, the most notably being Baelor, effeminate older, slender built and Maekar, bigger built, brawny younger, it must be their common features even with weapons, lifestyles or instrumentalities, Fire and Blood motto.
Brushing it aside, instantly, after which he is coming to Jon, passing by, seeing how the little Rhaenyra is clutching her father’s hand while being together with everybody taken away to other hiding places by his most reliable Elves whilst everyone else are aligned either on the lower or upper levels, wherever they were, he is going to pass with Jon Snow by himself and Haldir, alone, throughout the covert passages.

Even so, King Legolas, how odd it was sounding to him specially, meanwhile, was still waiting keenly for the hopeful answer from his wife and children who were stashed safely somewhere else before all this ends. The ones who are hiding, taking good care of them are none other than Kili and Tauriel who should have by now caught the message by the dove that was sent to those who lived Under the Mountain, the highly esteemed dwarvish kingdom, held in the highest regard, favored by many, because of the newly declared law that the interbreeding marriages are allowed by King Thorin.

Both waited and were finally granted to do so. Without a need to wait any longer, Tauriel like a bright emerald spring, pulled Legolas together to her. Pressing them both against one another. The woman he could never claim for she left him for a dwarf. He should have been infuriated by her acts, but didn’t. She smiled to her King, the She-Elf who always did her ways by her will, paying no heed. And he was the fool to believe boyishly, who ran after her, that she will choose HIM.

- My Liege. – Your voice can’t move me like before. Even then, hiding in shadows, wasn’t your style. – What about all these Targaryens? – You got my word? – Yes, no worry, they are all safe and yes, I am going to lead Jon Snow and his fellowship to Thorin, King Under the Mountain and then pass through Dale. I will be their Guide. – Another Silvan Elf, the Wood as you are, is with them. The Hand. – Haldir, who doesn’t know him? And yet, you who is the Grey Elf, Sindar, is more of the Forest, than of the Stars as your own dynasty.

- It must be that Jon Snow is rubbing off on all of us – she laughs a voice of jingling nightingale. – Did you hear the news? – What? – The Direwolf of Arya Stark is proclaimed the Crown Wolf Queen alongside the crowned Wolf King. Grey Wind of Robb Stark. – Don’t believe it! – the elfin eyes of hers were mesmerizing as from the first day, it was plainly hard to fight the male instincts in him. First loves are never forgotten but the loved ones stay in our hearts. - Believe, she brought down Edna, yes, Edna was spent by the previous battle, but still, it is at long last, even among Wolves, established in their animal world.

- I told you. – What? – Women rule – unnerving him on purpose, before disappearing like a leaf. Going to Jon.
What an agile and brisk woman she was and at the same time, such a loving and gentle spirit dwells in her soul, he watches after her while the destined conversation had taken the place with the King in the North, bringing him together to what was his by Haldir’s help too. For the time was running out. Quicker than expected. It was funny, when you are immortal, you have the Time that serves you, but when it comes to other lives, the Time is never enough, you can’t buy it or capture it, keep in your captivity, you can only wrestle with it. Until, Lady Tauriel, making the final preparations in her obscurity, watches in awe how the First Snow from the West of the glacial full tears started honoring and favoring the East, never before it is such a beauty to see.

Chapter 38: Pristine

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Northwinds had arrived into the Far East, it seemed just like the dark in the Black Woods on the edge of the North’s highest sky – high tops of the greatest mountains, proud and tall. If there ever was a word, everyone would know, even to these lands, full of lively habitats and thriving terrains, the Wolves had returned. Never before, anyone of Elves, had experienced the Return of the Wolves in such a great amount. One Pack after another, they trudged as though it was their second home. Snow.

It was the most beautiful that ever was gracing the elven realm. This wasn’t the winter of Immortals. This is what it means when you are persistent and steadfast, but mortal. Howling evokes memories of the long forgotten, forbidden Past that came to haunt the living, saying, WE ARE HERE! At last! The Wolves of the North were inhabiting the new environments. And the Elves who would run into them, would step aside and let them pass with their young ones. Even the Lone Wolves, those were the sights to be graced. Imagine, just one Lone Wolf and he goes without his pack, alone, striving to fight even when all is lost and there is nothing left for what. Those were the most admirable, not because they are Lone, or have nothing to lose, but because they were all the resemblance, the very likeness of many unnamed as Jon Snow. Be they woman or old, it doesn’t matter, they became the Ones who no one sees, no one appreciates, no one cares, but they were always there, at any time, near.

- Mom? That one Wolf is so aged. – Yes, he is, come, we are coming home. – And where is their home? Why are they moving? – Once Wolves feel that it is their time to move, they just do it, regardless of where and why, it is the instinct, they go when they are needed, even if we do not want them. They are the harbingers of the battles to come and those who are the loneliest, they preserve even in the face when all is forsaken so!

The strong one is passing, for one moment, the Wolf looks at the elven kin, knowing he doesn’t belong to…no one, he passes alone as he evermore was, struggling to find just one place where he will feel welcome. An Elf child’s heart broke and despite his mother’s warnings not to come closer to a lonely beast, he did, and out of the pocket, in front of the untroubled Wolf, he shows the only what he got for him. It wasn’t much, no words. It was an apple. The Wolf gazes deep into the child’s eyes. It was the same as of the human, for the humanity lives in the children of Elves, until the adulthood, when the uncanny mind is replaced with that of the Hunter and Warrior and what remains is the artist or someone who contributes other life areas, but no human anymore, the closest Elves are ever to humans are when they are young, before the spring years are grown into the adults and the humanity in them is lost.

For Wolves come with the Snow, and they will go with the last, but never they return if there is no need, just when the certain nook of life is becoming the battlefield for our Arda. Till then, all is innocent and untouched. Like Snow. This is why...children that are bastardized had no guilt, no blame and no due. All are as pure as Snow. Even the bastard daughters, for the women, you have no bastard name you keep like the armors to serve sin.

- Take, I know it is not meat, but…this year’s harvest…was…you know…it was very poor – something glimpses in the Old Wolf, who knew, that the child’s destiny is rich, but not with gold or the silver coins, but with something what you call…the full life, wealthy in the good heart, for the newer generations of Elves are born and thankfully, the Old Gods will either die out or remain…in the Far Past. Therefore, he simply nudged the apple to the child’s surprise. As he is saying, keep it, and remember the Old Wolf by one single apple. He will endure the hunger, it was never the trouble. He shall bear as long as the Life goes, that is the Word of the Lone Wolves. So, he passes by, not because the apple was unworthy, but because…the child will needed it…the most. They are human and humans…need to eat, for one Lone Wolf, the simplest act of kindness is his or her motivation to go on, as far as the world’s reaches are reaching where the sea lines are, all of the vast space is theirs to claim.

This was such a spectacular event to attend, that prompted the elven villages to be emptied, everybody was there to watch how Northern Wolves of the Wall are migrating to the Far East, it doesn’t mean that nobody stayed in the North, it just implied, that some wolf families had the utmost profound, primordial instincts to go where they will be not only the needed ones, but called upon, for when Winter tightens its claws around you, there are Wolves who howl to clear away snowed paths, ease suffering and tell to the World, it shall pass. We come to anyone who is in need.

We are hated, feared and shunned. We do not need your pity and we do not seek your help, all what we do hope for is your respect. Nothing else. The food will be eaten and digested, the water will freeze like all waters, but what you give as the promise, will bring the abundance for each life, one day. When the World learns how to laugh freely with no restraints or bonds of the shiniest gold. That is what feeds us, this is our strength to move on where no one did so. For they do not heed if you are Elf, Human or Dwarf, any of kind, they go where Snow alike the Call of Nature is guiding them, selflessly and without any regret. The saddened notes of the faraway violin was playing for all Wolves, there were countless of others and the Elven kin had watched.

- Mom – she appears behind her child – are we going to see him again? – after some time, when the northwinds covered his tracks, and just the outlines are barely even for the Elven eyes discerned, only then, she answers. – No. Never again.
- But why?! – he turns to her, the hope was living in this child and if only, just one lives as this one, there is hope for all kinds. – Because he wanders forevermore. Never knowing its END!

This is what it signified the Life of any Wolf out there, all or just that one, who preserved the Hope. And akin to the rows of the Elves who were following with their ghostly stares, the Return of the Wolves, thus, Tauriel passed the Palace Guards unnoticed, and joined out of curiosity and the deeper sense of Universe, that something all around them is changing by every taken breath, first, she perceives North’s Snow and in the furthest distances, she harkened to…one of the mightiest howling of the migrating Wolf breeds, and the distant violin did sing, turning to its direction, her light elvish eyes are distinguishing that same Wolf who walked as if he is the end of his kind, after numberless of his who passed the same lane, he turns to her, and what she saw, wasn’t the animal, it was…WARG.

They say, that all Starks are Wargs, and once they die, they choose the animal that shall be their new dwelling, in the darkest of the nights, those howls are the outmost magnificence to listen to. And this Lone Wolf was once…Stark. Who is it? Who could it be? Her eyes are locked, not only met with his, and before she can’t follow his wolvish contours anymore, he bores his words into her Elf being. The words she remembered, as the North remembers, the Lone Wolf dies but Pack survives, yet this time, it wasn’t Winter, but Spring is coming.

Winds of Winters, the Winter Breath and the Dream of Spring…it was...Rickard Stark. The Old Wolf of lines of ancient human Kings who kept watch.
Even when all the worlds are to fall, this one Mortal Wolf continues to oversee, being there for his kin, child and all. Hence, my watch begins and ends.

…There…somewhere…

Chapter 39: Of Fire we are made, by the Blood forged

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At one point, your life is as precious as the one that is gone, that is why it is priceless, because there is use of you, you are needful, but as soon as the fulfillment is completed, it means that you are once again reduced to the state of being you once were, and that is the spoil. Tauriel is very much aware of it and this is the reason why she moved from the elven kind as much as she could, leaving the ties open with Legolas, because the way she lived under the elven reign, even though she was the woman of the same, was becoming unbearable, but little of happiness is at all times found in the most unexpected places and Kili was her safe Haven. In such a way, chambers of uneasiness keep secrets among selves.

Because, people will never know what is the price of independence and the toll of keeping one. Experiencing what she did, she returns to the snow. To enjoy this hymn of the Seven Heavens, never before the glistening snow was such a golden glow to witness, as it is at this moment with her, enjoying it, elating being one with Mother Nature that is something as perfect as it can be, it is another thing that everybody is exploiting her gifts. Alone, with no one around her to disturb her enjoyment so, she was free to explore even the ending edges, hence, she did just that. Following where the snowing clouds began and where they had ended. Into whom she can come across or what, it didn’t matter. When it is as white as the celestial abode, there is no fear, qualms left her troubling soul and she is just with her soul, just herself as it should be from the inception.

Her jeweled ruddy tresses are bedecked with the small pearls of the heavenly presents from above. She looked up and saw the Magic of the stars, which are distant and cold lights, but were hers, not close and warm as the Sun, for she was the Child of Stars. Oh, Allfather, grant me the strength, the patience, for the duty I am chosen. To Lead Jon Snow as far as I am able to. I am a mere woman, and something, as it is telling her, from the frosted trees and rime filled boughs, you are the offspring of the elven woods too. Suddenly, here he is, he came to her, at first, it was unrecognizable because he was white as the purest snow, the White Stag. The symbol of all who are of Baratheon blood.

It was Renly who sent him, if anything else, to symbolize the start of something new, and she was the one who must be there for Jon Snow, the King in the North, the God has spoken, and as soon as he appeared, he was evanished. Renly Baratheon reached far, so far, without Warg powers, with only the guided intuition and found the unlikely Elf woman. Perhaps, she wasn’t of Noldor, she was not of the Dragon kinds, but she harbored more heart than any of those, of the most mightiest. She ran after it, asking for the counsel, and all what she could interpret is the sense of the purpose that overwhelms her, the darkness comes, but it will pass, and the new Spring is coming.
She is now certain in spite of all hardships, she is going to guide the King in the North, and if she doesn’t succeed, she dies trying. Oh, Kili, forgive me. I hope I will return to you someday, I am being summoned by God.

- It is interesting – the bubble of her little world was shattered and she turns to none other than Rhaenys, the Hand of the Queen. – What?! – This snow, you and the loneliness you are shrouded with. It is unusual to see the woman of any kind how she wanders…alone. – Those who wander are not lost. – So, you are the Wanderer. I listened a lot about you – the silver diamonds in her curls are making her irresistible, yet, Tauriel was a Daughter of the Silvan Forests, something so magical, untouchable and…pristine she was in the way of her modesty and the majestic feel that this woman is something more than it catches anyone’s eye. But, she did. – You know my name, I know yours. You are the daring one. Darling.

It was condescending, her approach to those she deems that are less than her, just because of the status or blood. Let her be, she is used to such peoples.

- I am of Silvan – she challenged her primeval existence. – I am of Targaryen – the challenge is taken by one of the Olds – and we have our Dragons, what do you have? – You see, all around me, the whole forests! – We may burn them down.

- And, we do not miss. We have capable Dragonslayers, one of those lives just next to us in Dale realm. Bard the Bowman who slew Smaug of Shadows, for some are bigger than living Mountains and rock giants. So, what is your little Dragons, compared to the black arrows? For your Dragons can’t go further, deeper or advance no longer for Magic of East – Tauriel approaches closer – can’t fly, where are you hiding them? Where are their hideaways? How they are to come to your aid if you ever call or need them? – Is this the blood trial of yours, the one we will figure out. For some of us are big as entire Mountain ranges, the way you speak confirms your fear of us. – You are mistaken. I am claiming the truth. Yours is guidance of Fire and Blood.

Rhaenys grins delightfully, looking up. This one was special, Snow and Her, unlike any others she could ever dream to experience so. Saying this to her.

- Tauriel. I have a feeling we are going to meet again. – You are not getting Brienne. I will stop you, you and your terrors. – Ah, but the nights are dark and full of those same horrors, and what little Wood Elf is in fact capable, other than just…jumping from one tree to tree. – I have nothing to lose. I do not depend on my Dragon. You do. And what are you without your Dragon? – I listened to this for innumerable of times, my dear.
Even without one, she is far superior and stronger, mightier and experienced, well versed, such the seasoned warrior, contrary to this womanish She-Elf.

- I hold the upper hand for my age, little Elf. – Try me. – With your small bow? – No bow and no arrows. Come at me – Rhaenys had her doubts.

Seeing this sacred Elf of the Forest, as old as the baby snow that falls from everywhere, no end and no beginning, she, for the first time, falls back now.

- Next time, Tauriel. – You are certain that there will be one? – Even if don’t. Something is telling me, not to try my chances. – You fought our Glorfindel. – I did. Still…You know him, personally? – Of course, he is as charming as the shiniest Sun. In him blossoms the flowering of star shaped yellow flowers which are used to sustain his life when the mother’s milk wasn’t sufficient, not because it was non – nutritious, less milk or no milk at all, but because his rawness is so marvelous that he twice, first in the womb and when they were captured again, survived all the odds of the Elven Kind. He is one of my great friends. – To you? Common Silvan? – she laughs cheerfully at her. – That is our differences, see?

Night stalkers. Those are the spirits from within, they arrive only with the dark, in the shadows they are weaving their webs. High Elves are so sure that in the darkness they can’t dwell or prosper, and yet, one of them, did, and now he is shining with the rawest power of the cleansed gold, no more blackened by the impurities. For even in the uttermost darkening, the hope was found, that was twisted, this was malformed, it was disfigured, only to after so many passed centuries, starts to flower as never was. Rhaenys left her alone. Soon, her trails were being masked by the twinkling snow.

What was certainly intriguing, it wasn’t the coldness, it was that the snow wasn’t…that cold, it was warm upon the touch. What her spirit is telling her? Brace yourself. Your time is nigh. While Rhaenys was full of her own misgivings. The uneasy feeling never is leaving her. For she lost the forced bond with Brienne. Such a liberated woman she was. She achieved what the few never dared to the finishing lines. Is she getting softened, or weak? No, the Magic of their Time is not passing, it is growing much richer than the sheer pit. Facing the uncertainty. Something wasn’t right, she has to get the word with others. Can she trust herself, rest the belief upon her elven self of her respective kin. For Being is whispering to her, something comes with SNOW.

Chapter 40: Elf maiden, the Voice from the Outer Plains

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Oh, just wait for me, Tauriel or whatever is in her way. Remembering Glorfindel’s words of the Clown or Idiot, it is the same, how he is going to have his own harem of spoils that is going to overflow and brim with favorites and among relish the favorite with First mate. If it weren’t for her Dragon and who also got distraught by the sudden possibility of the experienced close death, there weren’t even be them here. That is what is the scariest amidst all.

- Have you found out something? – Aemond intercepted her, and after some hidden thought, she told.

- No, they are on the other side, while we are kept here – she stands opposite him, both watching under the snowing eaves, somewhere, into the blackening world and beyond it.

- Can the King be trusted?

- I believe he is intending to cross us, HIS grand design is underway.

- What the two of you are talking about? – Aemond answers him.

- Rhaegar, we must change our plans too. Tell us, what is the easiest way to pass through Silvan Guards and get to the humans of ours.

- Hm, I believe the Black Arts of my violin can do the magic, unless it isn’t countered back, but even then, there is a little of chance.

- Do it then, everyone else will watch your back, leave the rest to us, after all, the human are the worst. What we are doing to them is nothing comparing to the world they shaped grotesquely as it is! – Rhaenys demands and speaks not in the hatred, but truthfully what she feels, there is no regret, only remorse for the failure and the trio is back to their Dragon people who eagerly were awaiting the get their clutches unto the humankind. So close and yet, they couldn’t be far more distant than they were. Soon, they all attack. In the meantime, the Original Elves unlike the Reimagined of the same Magic Source are pondering about the unfolding situation and the newly brought decisions. There could be other alternatives as well, when, suddenly, some music out of the thinnest air is permeating all of their beings and elvish senses. What the?!

- Do you hear this, what is this? – Wait, I listen…where it is coming from?

- I don’t know. Let me find out – the Elf was gone, while other Elves stayed and harkened, continually, foremost, they weren’t affected, but when the notes went lower, nearly to the ungodly sounds, only then, it was too late. – Rhaegar’s Music! – the Songs of Phantoms were singing the bewitching melodies which are compelling them one by one to fall to the deepest dream ever slept forcefully. And how the Music was spreading out, so Dragons were on the move, walking around while the Silvan, one after another are fainting, snoring loudly, even though they never sleep, only with eyes open and daydreaming by strolling the world, now and then, it happens, by force or free will, but this time, there was no time to protect themselves, they were falling in front of the Music of Phantom!

Tauriel immediately opened the wooden place where the barrels were emptying out, into the dark waters she went in slowly, in here, she kept herself hidden, above her head, Targaryens are searching where the humans are being put away whilst everyone around are constantly collapsing to the deep dreaming, feeling nothing, sensing, nor smelling. Tauriel is holding breath, she must warn her King, on the eastern side of Cave Palace. Think! Elf Lady!

- Did you find the keys? – Rhaenys asked the one next to her. – Yes, but their prisons are empty – she hears them clearly, very good stowing herself from the ones who discovered the deceit. – Are there any mysteries of the gateways? – Aemond was strict and overbearing, meantime, Rhaegar is doing what he does the best, delighting in it. Playing his violin that was perpetually revering the world by the luminosity of the gods.

They will keep sniffing and scouring. She has to do something, quick, without splashing, just the necessary moves, she plunges herself deep, diving, into the deeps of the mother’s waters from the time when the Gods were older with the creation, than now, when they are much younger, and so, her lone journey had begun. Keeping her breath to herself, like a fish she is swimming through numerous mazes. She can do it, she must, she is able to come on the other side, to make him hurry. They lost their Time, they won’t harm the Elves, but humans and their Jon Snow are in the earnest jeopardy than they ever were, but in the deepness of the profounder depths, the menacing threats are creeping around until one single light did not enlighten her ways.

- Do not be scared of me. I am the Lady of the Lake – couldn’t believe it, she was encompassed by the clarity of godlike imbuing sunlight, it was both beautiful and spiritual, hearing what the Lady has to say to her. – Once you are up, listen to my cues, I will bring you by counseling and guiding, you must go through the Song of Rhaegar Targaryen. There is no other way. Trust me, you will pass unsighted. Just retain a clear mind!

She nods, trusting her, she wasn’t uncostumed to the Life that was enclosing her although there is no way to see it, but just because it can’t be gazed upon, it doesn’t mean it isn’t here, right in front of you, trying to catch your attention. Coming upon the dry soil, she is crawling in between all the muddy tunnels, rife with the bugs, wee mutants and all other life forms. Through the meshed shaft, she is seeing how all of Dragon Ladies and Lords are right up and she is beneath their feet. Here goes nothing, having the utter belief in the Lady, for there is nothing to lose, she comes out, in the small fear, shivering, yet, here she was at present. In the middle of all of Targaryen folk and neither one is seeing her presence, the Wood Elf is so well veiled.

Soaking wet, leaving the miring trails behind an intrepid pulse. Just step carefully. Targaryens are the only breed who can’t ever be impacted because they are more similar to the humans with sleeping and dreaming than to their elven kindred in that matter. It has to be possible not to bump into anyone. They touched nothing, tortured or slain nobody...yet, but they will start the kinslaying if they might not divulge where the humans were taken. Swirling on one side, one chamber attracted her, it was the Lady, sending the concealing vibes, the intuition was high and she went inside, closing the door. Can’t relax yet, only to uncover, they were here. Oh my God! The humans were right in front of their noses! But the power of the Magic of East and the Lady’s influence is so almighty that it wasn’t passing through. Not able to see in here, but all are here waiting while Silvan Guards are on the other side, oppositely was swarming with Targaryens, however, they hadn’t noticed any door or aisle, instead, all what they saw was another Targaryen, the Shadow one who was keeping his watch. While on the inside part was no entrance where she invited oneself in. No. There stands the most regular Wall.

- Oh, you are splendid, Lady! You are manipulate it so deftly – hearing the hollow whispering. – Not if you dig farther, for now, this is your turn.

The humans are qualm, where is Jon Snow? It seems, they are in the most faithful state of the minds, although, everything is screaming that the graver situations are not on their side. Despite all, the humans of Jon Snow are controlling themselves. She must unveil someone, with whom she may speak. Who? Who is sufficiently sensible to make the contact? She is sensing one, coming nearer to him, for the impending doom is upon. Do not falter now. You have to be unwavering. Easy to say when she is just one. Whirling to everywhere, desperately trying to find that one. Undetected, maybe to some, there were some unexplained shivers sliding down tailbones, but no. She watches right at Jaime and Brienne, then passes Rhaenyra and her little Syrax. Roose Bolton, Lady and Ygritte in her wolf form was so concerned with other matters, together with the others, there was no chance to even catch a smell of her. But, one human starts getting agitated, for he saw the uncanny shadow, how it moves from here and there.
He was the most sensitive to the surroundings and people like him are called. Empaths. They do not require to see or taste, but certainly are the very ones who feel. He found her, perceiving that it is her discerned female bio – energy. To whom to tell? Before he could react. Right beside, she murmurs to him. Distinguishing…Sam.

No cold…drying on the spot, lanterns alight like the candlelight and the hearthstone is fulfilled with the warm fireplaces, arrayed in the coziest warmth.
The Free Will is stolen from the moment you know the Future. That truth paid the most, the only man who lived for sake of the Future unknown. NED.

Enshrouding Immersion, bending of the Space, letting the Blood flow…Jon Snow and his humans, it was the dreamless voice from the deeps of TIME. Wall didn’t fall then, just is left scarred. Verily, the greatest failure by someone who was later known more by a fall, than win.
Dragons or the Dragons, it might get confusing, stunning overall but one thing was certain. The Dragon people do not give up simply by a first obstacle they encounter, ceasing elements of ending use. Hewn from wood, wrought of the living stone. Gloved hands designed the Life.
*
Even the death you wish to take from us, abduct from what is naturally ours, where you do not dare to follow. From where to draw our strength?
Leaving the unforgettable mark behind all. When a fail becomes Teacher.

Chapter 41: Amusing Baby Friends in every way of Old World

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For anybody who saw horrors, was there for altered states and malformation into Orcs, can’t ever go back the way the person behaved, but being changed by Life. All what is offering is claimed, as God Elf who ceased to be a Monster. For the first time, he sleeps and dreams as…human. For very now, it is on her to assure that nothing goes amiss, as much as it was humanly a possibility, and Sam was listening, but only saw the basic humanoid lines, she was communicating through the astral dreaming, where the dream begins in the wake state and what happens when you are not sleeping at all. Here she found the one who is daydreaming even when the reality around him is very much unsightly. That was his self - defense technique he is doing.

- Sam? Are you in there?

- Yes. Who are you?!

- I am Elf. Tauriel. Woman. Do not fear, I am on your side. You must help me, and you have to be ready for the King. – Mine? – Yes.

- I am not even a fighter!

- Still, you are the only one I can speak with. I will be revealed, the Time is trickling, please. Go over to the Door and peek. – There is no Door, there is just the Wall, here is the only Door we are facing and Guards are outside! – Trust me, behave your usual self, no one will notice, no one pays attention to the ones who they deem neither as the threat or someone who cannot be of help. It is not an understatement, it is the human real world and life. Now, I want you to look pass the Wall. Sam.

- You have such a soothing voice. I like you. Are you pretty?! – NO TIME FOR THIS!

- Sorry, sorry, still…long hair? I like when a woman has rather long…

- I am a married woman for the love of God! – I don’t mind. – Eru, give me patience – she is exasperated. – Right, right…so, I am up, I am feigning that I am curious and now, where is that Door? – Look straight, you are seeing it, right in front of you – the Devil! She was no wrong! – I see it! What do you want me to do now?! – Do you see anything? Peek! – he has done it, looking through the keyhole. Oh, God! – Dragons! They are occupying your realm! – Not for long, trust me, go through it.

- What?! – Into it! Step. – Sure?

- Yes – he was in, and it was the different dimension where he lastly met her. Long marvelous copper hair, in green and a smile of Sansa Stark, of her younger days. Blissful and unburdened, this She – Elf never lost her bliss even in the times of the Dark Days.

- You are beautiful! I saw various ladies of your kind, but you are something special, you have my pure eyes glowing for you! – only then, he discloses, someone in the glimmers was behind her, GHOST! He showed himself fully.

- It is you, buddy! – like it was real, for his mind it was, he feels it, got it completely and hugs the big boy who lets him, nuzzling into Sam. – You remember me? I spoke to you once, in the tent – that dark voice, oddly was of a man! The He-Elf! Hoisted up his eyes. It was none other than what he was told of whom Jon Snow resembles. They are the spitting images! The sheer likeness. Is this how Jon would in truth look like if he is to bear himself as the…Elf? And all confounded, asks.

- JON?! Is that you? – Hm, even without the beard, I am Jon? – no, this was…more elegant, and deeper sound of the voice, it was abysmal, Jon was similar to the human tonality, but, then again… - He is only forcing himself to speak the way he is, even his voice is of the elven, that is why he sounds as the broken violin, straining, no harm, he is used to it by now. And, thank you, Tauriel, I needed someone from the side of human.

- But…you two are the same! Oh, sorry, Your Grace, I am just…are you sure you are not fooling me, Jon? You are used to doing it! Tricking me! – I am Feanor. Elvish Emperor of all Elves. I am High Elf Lord too. Sam. I am not my grandson. Do not make me open your mouth and put my tail in you. But, I am so relieved he has got such friendship with you. It is almost…impossible, but what is today impossible for my heir? Isn’t it? – Your heir?! – First things first, I told you, at one time, that you are going to serve me.

- No… you asked me…Your Grace, and I am not going anywhere with yourself. – So, you have decided to belong to my grandson utterly? – I do not belong to him, being a friend to someone, doesn’t mean possession.

- Really? – one noble eyebrow is up and down smoothed with the rest of his unrealistic countenance. – Is this why you are hiding the fact of your loyalty for him? – I am not hiding, not from him nor I ever hid myself from anything.

- You passed. – I what?!

- Tauriel, he is perfect – he praises the young Elf Lady who was fairly satisfied with herself, turning his astral embodiment to the even more puzzled human.

- You are his human, that is for certain. – I am not his human, see, no marks and no claiming…

- On the very soul, what is the sign of some flesh, when he sealed it onto your spirit? Forever binding it. He did it…unwittingly.

- Unwittingly?! That guy is sometimes all but with the wits! Damn him! I am going to smack his face! – and something has taken place, Feanor, after ten thousand years and maybe far more than he can remember, for there may be even hundreds of thousands, smiled lightly and Tauriel is left astounded.

- I see what is the big deal with you. Is this by how you are expressing today? I am learning. Why you are so endearing him and he is always so gladdened beside you. And now listen, you stay by your Jon Snow, the King. That is now much clearer, I can’t claim you for myself and other agenda…

- You are speaking like I am some belonging!

- You are and be quiet or I will be forced to shut you up! And stuff you and fill you in, if you like it… and other things… you have got a picture?! – Sam is amazed. This Elf…, now he got it. This is where he got it from! Jon Snow, that unexplainable and hasty personality! And…kinkiness altogether with his queer heritage.

- For the Others that are coming, they must be warned. For the Elves are bracing of any kind and…there are those Ents too and Trees, and Eastern Magic and whatsoever. The Great Other is with them. Write here the words I am going to tell you and I am to guide the dove of Tauriel with your handwriting solely and directly. – What Others? What Great Other? Are we safe?!

- No, maybe you, and they are Lords of Castamere and Great Tywin Lannister, the Wraith. And…the Golden Lions, your friend awakened his best potentials, he is a powerful moron, the mightiest Lannister ever who still has got the opportunity what his parents took from him and Lannisters always pay their debts to their Kings and vows. Lords of Castamere are invoked only when there is the debt to be paid back. – You mean… I am now…shocked…THE LEGEND OF THE FLYING LIONS, THE WINGED?! – Well, Jaime certainly learned to fly, right? When he once encountered Rivendell Elves!? – INDEED! It was his mere arrogance!

- Even though it was more of the luck, he, anytime, had got it inside himself. This is all his doing, he is braced for it and your people were notified. You didn’t because they wished to protect you. Always the Ones with the intel are hunted down, not those who know nothing. – Well, someone has to do it too, all right, all right, I got it! I write, paper and… oh, I love magic, all just appears, right, I obey it.

The words are spoken and wrote down, very soon, the single dove was flying enshrouded. And this wording, how it was put into expressions, the choice of diction, is still reverberating. Jaime Lannister is the mightiest Lannister ever born?! That is ridiculous. Their Jaime, the Doorkeeper and Kingsguard? That man couldn’t miss any hole even if he dares. Then comes Jon, recalls what he said of self. Do not be fooled by my appearances, Sam.

- Sire! The dove! – It is of the Elves, take it down! – Sire, it comes to us! And…Ghost! Ghost is with it! – No loose, no loose, you idiots, you almost hit it! I am even in my Death, surrounded by imbeciles. What have I done for God to hate me that much and me to end up with you, ah, yes, Lords of Castamere. That is just my luck! – Ghost in his incorporeal shape neared them with the Dove on top of his head that was the herald of the tidings. Tywin starts reading it after unsealing the Lady Elf’s seal.

- Ah, this is the handwriting of our Cook and…Librarian, like Ned could cheat me! If I just meet him, I am going to drink his blood. – Our Sire, no time for revenge. – There is at all times, TIME for everything! At least, in Death, it is granted! When if not then?! Anyway, the guy really has the nice writing. Thank God. There is some hope for OUR North. – It sounds weird, good at the same time… - Yes, it was always my North – facepalm. This guy never changes. – All right. Thank you, ghosty. Now, we are taking over. Lead the dove back, the little bird to safety, to her golden cage or whatever, we have got it all, so that you may tell others, we are here. And we are not to leave, any time soon. You heard it, imbeciles? – You created us, Old lion! – So we are even!

And so we spoke and so we spoke. Here, I am coming. My children. Forgive me, Daddy comes! I am forevermore indebted and proud of you. Just hang in there for some time longer. Great Lord, human, Tywin Lannister arrives! After it was settled, Brienne presently catch no sight of Sam. Asking Jaime who is brooding, for he surely is not happy with the circ*mstances, where is Sam, only for him, just then, starts getting inquisitive, like…where the hell that boy disappeared?! He was just here. Jon is going to kill them if something happens to Sam! And he was dear to them all. Oh, f*ck, he should have paid more attention. And he calls himself the leader. Good only for keeping Doors Save! Upon that notion, not even Roose, anyone had any time to search for Sam, these are spacious and secretive chambers, and he could get lost even in the latrine rooms!

That wouldn’t be anything odd about him. It is even a given. However, they are forced by the elflike Guards of the Silvan race, out of cage, again are being brought somewhere else, this time, sensed relief, at least, for a moment. To the front of them, there was standing pensive Jon Snow, at his side, the Hand of the King, Haldir and Elvenking. What is this all about, for here was some quaint mirror, made up of edged and sharply looking peaks all around itself. What is it serving for!?

*
I sense something that isn’t human, of the outer realm, I smell it is giving birth. It birthed self.

*
Who will inherit my Throne? Who will succeed me? The STRONGEST OF WILL! Who will believe in you if even I lose hope in humanity? Walking a path of the bravest hope ever dared.
There shall be light, even the sole weakness proves to be the advantage for the survival of life.

Chapter 42: The recreated and fathered struggles

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North remembers, Elves do not forget, neither do they return what they take to own and claim. Sam feels how the preternatural clutches behind the nape and to the front of his neck are smothering him. It was the inner dimension. Feanor is relaxing him, he is human, but he will get used to it. He must.

He is not Jon’s friend for anything but just to be a friend, he is more. Isn’t it enough just being someone’s friend? To Elves, it is far more. He knows how it was when he found out about Glorfindel and his feats, thus, thinking the stories of him would reach to ears to those who need to listen before he even arrives and it was in such a way as he predicted, but nothing could prepare him for someone who was coming to meet him, just for him. That was the meeting of yore, in the days of the Realm of Fantasy, when they bonded each other to one another, irrelevant what Life will throw at both or what their paths will be or lead them to, they wrought out the bond as powerful as unseen seas and the highest of the lengths of Mother Arda and restful dreams.

This is why he knows, that such bonds, when you are bound, contribute to more than just the single and regular friendship between the ones who chiseled it in the first place. It is also the birth of heroic beliefs, the epic adventures and biblical proportions of the better versions of your beings, of oneself. For that reason, nothing is too high or too hard to do the unfeasible, everything is attainable by the sheer will of power when survival and everything else depends on the Life. He used this opportunity to show something to Sam, in here, the Time flows by the cyclic manner and Tauriel stays to guard the Door while Sam is relocated, moved from the Universe he knew to the world that is familiar to him, and yet, it was very diverse in the vastness and the composition of the new birth of the same essence. Nobody could see them, but both saw them. Sam remains wordless, what to say.

- These are my creations.

- They are people, like me and…human mortals.

- Yes. They think they are original, yet, they are all cloned and recreated, everything what happens here or there, it has the small, but the far reaching goal. And yet, it doesn’t mean we are not together connected to the Fountain of Creation. They are not less because of it. It is called the theory of strings and Chaos. If you flap the wing in one sphere, it could affect all surrounding cosmoses.

- There are more than one?

- Sam, what if I would tell you that you are all just one small and so far the vital part of something we all name Allfather, and that, the Being is nothing more than the result of our jointed consciences, we are the Creators by ourselves.

- How could that be?! We didn’t even exist…

- We did, but without bodies, what we are but the energy? Not the crude matter of what we are molded. You can’t make something out of nothing.

- Isn’t it the same? Create and Make? – Just because you studied and read so many books, it doesn’t imply that you are the new scientist or what you title in your world, Maestar. And, not, it isn’t the same. What is made, can be unmade, but once created, it is not so easy to ever copy it, you can only corrupt and imitate, but never create something newly, that is the power of any Creation.

- Why…why do I need, oh…there is a puppy too! Ah, I am so confused, and these tall buildings… - Modern civilization. – You tell, this is…yours?! Who created you to create…this!

- Dear Sam, look pass the rows of trees and you shall discover the woods. I didn’t compel them, they are not mine, I am theirs. But, you see, no matter how much they summoned me, I can’t just go and fix things for them, they have to do a little by their own…magic. Not always to depend on me, all by myself I also did it. I had Time and Space, I built another Lives. I haven’t emulated. I am the Creator.

- Little science? – Indeed. – And who designed you? – I am…different. – Well, it is much obvious when I see…oh, there is a large multitude of women and children and...your Spirit is greater, far than expected, you almost…no, killed, but she rebirthed. – At the cost of my father’s life who lent his lifeforce to mother’s, only for the frail state be taken advantage of and slain by Morgoth and they say I am the same as him. Maybe, howsoever, in spite of differing shades of mine, and there are a lot of them! I am not HIM!

The two of them, paced something that looks as the Black Hole. Feanor took Sam on a voyage outside of any dreaming. It was the place where the dreams start to get their shape and no matter how small they seemed, they mattered, every single them, it is in truth what impels humans and all other living beings to live, be they sentient or still. Nothing is imposed, it is something that vibrates with the full stars inward each person. On one planet, Sam was seeing the start of what is nowadays, known as the Elf. Yes, they shared the motherworld with Targaryens, but there was another before any of them are tied together.
Feanor shushed him, warns to move from shadows. Walk in the silvery light, and both must hide. Where are they!? Who comes?

- What is this place? – The beginning, the humanity named it Eden, and silence, you are only going to scare them away. – WHOM!? – Look, there they are, under the dark shade of the Oak tree, they are laying in there, this is the Far Past. You were the First among uncountable other who are fashioned designs, it was the siring of the genesis. It is another thing how Elves came to be, from mortal humans. Just watch and learn. My Sam.

He had. After some time, he saw it. For what it was, the first living beings. Adam and Eve. The two are tranquil. Lilith wasn’t with them, the first wife went other way and leaving him alone, he didn’t aspire to share the life of no ambitions, all by himself, he wanted another, like him, but not two, just one, to live with. The woman from his rib, he offered, it was promised and given. It is truly gifted and here she was.

The Mother of Humankind. She wasn’t anything what you would portray her to be, she was just her. Simple, pure and the start of Life. Not because of her womb, and not because she will mother us, simply, she was ALIVE. And Adam was everything of the human man, absolutely all what the woman could desire in her male. He was all hers. With no one to share him. Alas. In her possessive nature, territorial integrity and protective temper, turns out that she was the one who is to be hunted down. For she is prey.

One day, collecting red berries to fill her Adam, for she loved to spoil her dear, take care of him, as every motherly posed woman lady, in blindness, didn’t catch sight of Snake that bit her little finger, she held her scream. No, she can’t disturb him. He is hers. He is going to stress all over her and be distraught because she is hurt, in trying to help her and find a cure, he is going to leave her and get himself slaughtered by the feel beasts that crept around. That night, both fell asleep. They made love, and no sound she let. It was the sound of the eeriest silence in quiet endured.

- Eve, are you all right? Are you hurt? Tell me. – No, go to sleep. It is nothing. You are imagining. You are my man. Dream, my dreamer – she had a way with words, but at that hour, she smelt it, it was the Serpent, from one of the shadowy bushes, it was hunting her. And the pain got worse, her blood pained her, excruciatingly. Eve came before her Tormentor. – What do you want? – Eat…apple. – Show yourself into the light.

Sam was about to throw up. Feanor is Satan?! IT WAS HIM!
She not only did what he commanded for her to be better, therefore, affirming guilt alike the first female who was just seduced by the Devil. From that union, the First Trueborn and Firstborn will be birthed. Procreated. Bred and Born. The Elf who was in reality, the Afterborn. The Devil insured the Pact that he is to be re-embodied through one of the wombs of the Elf.

For even though Sam discerned him, he was not even nearly today’s Feanor. Skinless and frightening, she had to touch and suffers Satan’s manhood, for he was both in one, masculine and feminine, later, Mother of us all, bore the skin to skin, it was of the human. The more they copulated without Adam’s knowledge, the more she PROTECTED her man from the Belial (Feanor), the more she attained the freedom and power. This is how Morgoth was…formed, the one who chose and shaped Sauron.

They were all…HER CHILDREN. Of Eve. Through Eru’s thought, they took shapes of GODS. For Feanor came down to Earth, strictly to conquer the Last Free Planet, manipulating the tides of the Life, but, one woman stood in his path, and Satan fell. It was the White Lady of Rohan. Eowyn. Sam learned at that time, the one who wished them harm, the most is now their greatest Protector.

Jon was the First Elf. The undreamed of great strength.

Chapter 43: My Moon Princess, the Queen of the Night

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Of old languages, even older trees, there is the story of the Entrancing Mirror, no one can tell for sure, who made it or how it came into the possession of the succeeding Elvenking Legolas. But, it was one of the mystical mysteries of the world that has aged as the story itself which is circling around the beauty of something you can’t lay a touch, only look yourself into it and admire. The people of the North, all 300, including Haldir and Jon Snow, were with King Legolas and the Silvan folk in the immersed state of the expectation. It was not the expectation where you are anticipating the outcome, it was the soul of the dream that is passed from one child to another, and those children were of Iluvatar. The Firstborns, indeed those were his humanity.

- Listen to me all, this is something I must force you through and you have to undergo the unavoidable. It is unsavory so, but it is something each of you have to comprehend. This is the Heart of the Magic of East. You are here, lined up, to confront what you are going to see, not what you fear or want, but it will show you what you are under your skin. Who you could be and that will tell you, are you meant to stay here with us and live, or go on with your King. These are terms. For those who are to stay, it is just as the journey as the ones who are to carry on. – Excuse me, I have a question.

- You are Brienne…right? – Jon’s all senses are strained. – What if we all are to leave? Not even one of us…stay? – Then, it shall be so. – Really? Just let us go? – Yes. That is my word. – Your word of the Elf doesn’t mean much. – Jon is Elf too, of the Targaryen bloodline and I don’t see you ever had a trouble, bending the knee to this man. – This is Jon. I know him since the day when the Great King Ned Stark brought him to the North. He was raised in front of our eyes, mothered and fathered. We watched him grow. Yet, we do not know anything but the word our King can put for you. – You would…fight along this man?

- Yes, I would. – So, then, Ladies are first. – Legolas, let the man go akin to the leading… - No, Jon, I will… and Jaime…shut up. Please – Jaime’s eyes are widened, this big woman of his is starting to read minds, ah, yes, not his yet. Well, she will be his…one day, he thinks and…hopes. He can’t live a life without a wife. To the Lannister, it is just incomprehensible. Lannisters without women, are like the fishes without water. There has to be someone to command them and make their life worse than already it is. His father at all times said: - Women can stay unmarried, that is their due, but the unmarried man, in my eyes, is the same as the one whose penis was cut off. To my opinion, they are nothing but Eunuchs. So, for a man, it is to get married. End of story.

- But, Dad, it is hard to find one when I have to guard the Door. – Excuses! You just build up the conditions where you are going to doorkeep and lay a bed with a woman. – Dad, what you are proposing, is simply, impractical.

- And when did you see a practical lion?! Starks are practical, not Lannisters! You idiotic son of mine! – Yes, Dad – and that sums up all the fatherly lessons. Damn, how he is going to bring up his Rhaenyra, his little daughter of the Stars and the Lady of the Moonlight, the Princess of the Dragons, when it is all messed up in his head, he should be better than his father. But for his child, Brienne did a favor. He remains…silent…at least for now. He is holding himself with a stance of a reassuring knight, but not a confident father, for his whole bearing is the holding of the beggar, posing the demeanor where he is braced to both attack and defend if must be this way. And so, one valorous woman who didn’t lack in any skill or bravery stands first and solemn before a Mirror of spell.

Valiantly than ever before she did, now, this was, perhaps, one of the greatest trials for her, not just as a woman, but the human being likewise. She waited, what does she intend to look upon? Will it be inside a spellbound mirror? She has to go in, or something in between. To see what others do not and here it was. For a moment. Initially, she thought there will be nothing and surprisingly, it started happening in front of her, and this something, she would never await for. She is somewhere else.

It was a different life, and it was wallowing in the grandness of what she is experiencing. The Enchanted dream of hers, she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Can’t distinguish herself, tell apart. She is present at the grand ball, with the crystalized chandeliers, opulence and richness were adorning by the touch of the modesty, just the way she preferred it. Loving Ned’s court to the most, this is how she envisions every single time when she thinks of the King’s High Seat and here it was. Gorgeous dresses, knightly men and the High Ladies, altogether with the common people, everyone was invited, just the way she liked it the most. And there she was. Everyone talked about her and smiled at her with the radiant brightness, for her spellbinding enchantment was real and she is waiting for her prince of marble. He must come, who is it?! Oh...

- You know, I heard that Brienne is awaiting someone. – That one must be special, look at her, all milky and dreamily woven. – The true beauty of our realm. I heard she is retitled into the Pearl of the East. – The most suitable, anything less will be deemed as unseemly and undue. – Ah, I hear it, the blares of his horns, he is coming! - Who? – Prince in shining black armor, of course. – Upon a white steed with a shield of pure silver.

Princess is in the delightful anticipation. How is he going to be or look like? It doesn’t matter, only to be good to her. That is her wish, her expectations aren’t belittled, but just to be her knight, no one else’s. If she needs to share him with a thousand others, then that is not her Prince, and when she gazed at him, seeing nothing but what she wouldn’t like for herself, walking the marbled stairs to meet her, he lifts his head up, and the smile has disappeared.

- What is it, my daughter? – Is this? – Renly Baratheon. Certainly, you haven’t forgotten the man you want? Right? – But, he isn’t…- noticing among all, him. Sir Jaime Lannister, he is beside golden Lady Cersei Lannister who next to her brother, enjoyed the small talk, it was actually very appeasing and enjoyable, fully immersed into it when unexpectedly Brienne appears between two, people let her through. – Your Grace! What a pleasing surprise. My brother and I are honored for your exalted presence and nobly dignified nobility, only you may emanate – everyone held their tongues except for Cersei and Jaime.

- Our Princess, what is the matter? Your Prince awaits! – You are my Prince! I want you! – here Cersei interrupts. – I am sorry Princess, but what you suggest is not feasible. I am to be his wife. – Cersei, stop it! – You are brother and sister. – It never stopped Targaryens to be together, right? Make the blood flow purely, staying in the family! – Stop it, Cersei, you are making the scene in front of everyone! – Let them hear and see, I am not the one who started the war. Look yourself in the mirror! – and it was present to her, she glares…it was the face…her voice, but the figure of…Sansa Stark.

- Brienne, Princess. I apologize in my daughter and son’s stead – Tywin shockingly put himself like the Wall that sunders his children from the most beautiful and cunning woman of their 7 realms. – If you hunger for him, you shall have him! – her eyes are tearful and Cersei is broken down. – NO! He is mine! MINE! – she grabs the unbelieving Jaime while Brienne seizes him from another side. – NO! He is my Prince! I waited for him, for so long! No! You are his sister! I will be his spouse! Consort!

What taken place next, no one was prepared. Jaime is cut in half and so that each woman had one half of the man. Entrails are in all directions splashed.

- Now, I think it is settled – it was Great Prince Daemon Targaryen! The Angel and the Dark – music please, so that our ladies do not wait dance.

Brienne screamed out loud, bloody cries. In the real life, true world, she was grasped by Jaime from behind, while such a woman is breaking into pieces, being beyond stressed out!
For what?! She passed the test, she goes with Jon Snow, continues with him this Grand journey of them, the travelling through the Far East, except this all was unforgivable! Jaime was about to kill them, they barely, his own people he took as his, subdued him. Jon Snow was seething, if not for Haldir who stopped and calmed him down, there would be the carnage to pay for the debt. Jaime’s eyes were blood, all what he could see is that his woman he loved is out of comprehension, with no measure is hurt in order to please the Mirror?!

Those bastards, Lannisters always, but evermore pay all their debts and this one, he will pay for her. He is next. Brienne begged him not to do it, for the child, but there was no going back, once he puts his mind to something, all what he sees is the Mirror HE WILL BREAK. Nobody, really, nobody in this world hurts his Brienne, for she will, someday, be his as well and live another day to take another breath. Yes, he is moronic, idiot and fool, but he is also Jaime f*cking Lannister. It means all! Roose never experienced him in this way, smirking slightly. This is what it takes to ruffle your feathers, oh sorry. Your coat of gold. Lions.
*
Jon Snow admitted to himself, at present and in that spot, for the fateful, turning point, belonging to him.
“It doesn’t matter how much low humankind may fall, I keep believing in them. I am with all. Resting all my hope on the virtue when all hopes are no more”.

So where I go, the entire North follows up.

Chapter 44: Howling of the Lion

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Invocations are being prayed and chanted. The Shadow Lands, where the elven Black Knights ruled the worldwide terrains. Jaime awoke up, he was in mud and mire covered, dressed in a white dress. What the?! If his father is to lay his eyes on him and accidentally, he looks himself in a pearly lake that was right beside him. He has got…elegant long curls of aurora with embellished tiny gleaming beads and embossed twinkling into the moonshine of the beauty that was of…the White Lady of Rohan. Yes, it was his…fatherland. Everybody in there, was almost sunlight shaded and of the sunny beams colored, such was him, his twin sister and Tyrion. His brother. He found out his fate, in glimpses and yearned to see him, even in the new form, for he was at long last, as he dreamed, tall and beautiful, unmeasured not even by Cersei. Outclassing everyone, his heart cried but he was Eowyn now. He wandered for a while, running into the tall Twin Trees, the Valinor’s Sun and Moon. He is sensing that someone is watching him. He perceives, it is the man and it was so open and blunt, that the eyes bore into him, he turns around. This was the inception of all, their first meeting. Feanor approached him.

- Are you She-Man?! – I am a woman! – this isn’t his voice, he is watching through her eyes and speaks what she is to say. – My heart flutters around you. I am Feanor. – Stay away from me! – she vanishes into the Third Age, from that point, Feanor changed the billows of the Time and Space, more than ever...determined to bring it to the life. Changing everything for a woman he loved, in doing so, he was the changed evermore.

There is a glimpsed vision, glimmering a view. Eowyn points her arrow at Glorfindel. What? Now understands, he was appointed to hunt her down, together for him. This is where it all is laid down, falling into place, what occurred next, was that he grabbed, in her running, golden locks, she fled through a portal, but her hair was pulled from another spot. Ecthelion was the one who cut off her pride, rendering a lady without her crown. Yet, hair is a proud little bird, it grows out. The landscapes changed and he is in the unknown, he was him. Jaime Lannister. And this was something that could be, what he insists not to be, but it has been. Yes, this was it, shadowed. He is back to the first habitats, the panorama of the Elven kind that was the interbreeding the crossbreds with the remaining mankind. The only thing he knows is that the Dead Marshes of the aghast eeriness he passed and now he sits down with Roose Bolton, they are in the improvised tent, waiting for the eve of the assault. They were holding them back, Elves, as long as sins.

- Tonight, they are going to breach. Lannister. – What about your reinforcements, about what you were talking? The Wild Boltons? – Who knows if they are coming and if they do, perhaps, all is lost, too late for us. They will be late to alter the tides.
- There must be something we can do. Anything. – Even I know when I fight the unattainable odds – Roose stands up, Jaime follows. – That is not true! Bolton! – then, heard their standards, they are here, by now, had come. Roose looks away and it be so. On the demon horses, Elves struck upon MEN in the most merciless attack, that which, they couldn’t hold out. Roose was lost, all of their forces crushed and the unwilling…slain. Their heads decorated the stakes.

What remained of the Lannister and Bolton forces was Ramsay Bolton who was just, prior to the Last Onslaught, sternly speaking to his father about a hope in the Misty Mountains. Together, he composed his wits and what is left of the human beings, he gathered under one standard and so Bolton and him, are leading what remains, deep into the mountain forests which are spanning all up and down to the deepest roots of the darkest evergreen, tall as never before, touching the roofs of the orbital atmosphere. He never glimpsed at anything similar. Thus, all is glad.

Who knows where an uncertain path will lead. During the tiring travelling, not even one cry or complaint is heard, no whining or whimpers, even though, none would be taken against them. Upon the road, they came into contact with one very mysterious man. He told them, he is going to be their guide, listen to him and he will bring them to the Fountains of the Blessed. But, how can they trust him? If this is not the trap? North people had been looking upon dark and ruthless beings of the Night, it was the nightfall to be remembered for all time. Those were the Lords of the Shadowed Darkness. Demanding what they couldn’t have, and others are enthralled and taken in the golden chains. To be either sold or bought and for other numberless uses and unnumbered enormities they will be put through, he can’t even think about and presently… this Stranger, is going to deliver? Jaime demands to know even his name, he goes nowhere with some Outlander. For this Ranger was nothing but the outlandish simpleton to him. Who he was to deny him, ever dispute or object in other matters so!?

- I am the Rider, The Scout and Observer. Come with me, the last of you, trust me and you are going to divulge what is on the other side, the full lightness of blessings. – Your name. What is it? – I have no name. I am one of the No Ones. I am the Faceless and I am your Guardian, either from Seven Hells or Heavens, it is your due and the haven to decide which shall you choose to yourselves. And in the wisdom, grow wiser, boy.

Boy?! There is just one man who called him in that way. When was it? Yes, it was when he was re – living the last days of the freedom, when Elves came from the cloudless skies and befall them like the falling eternals of yore. Under the yoke ever since the uncounted Time. All right then, he is going to test him. To see if he is the One he thinks he is. It will be simple and easy. If he doesn’t answer right, they are not following him anywhere. Telling it.
- We are going, I repeat, nowhere with you, unless you tell us who you are, what and the name of the woman I love. I wish to find her, but I do not know her name yet. What is going to be? – You love playing games, I believe, it is time to rest it aside and dream again, together. Sir Jaime Lannister – suddenly, right by his side, appears the Princess, hooded, but recognizable, she looks up and Jaime understood. Sansa Stark, so this must be. The man put the hood down. – I am Jon Snow. This is my sister. Please, let us help you.

- No, my horse is…distracted. You are not human. You are…with the Targaryen?! – Sansa turns away, couldn’t fathom that blaming glare, it is not her fault, for being conquered from the Outer Worlds and by extraterrestrial life forms. – Answer me. One of you. What you are to each other? – Jaime – Jon tries to take a hold of the reins, but without success, Jaime is slyer. – No, you are not him. And she is not for what she swears to be. She is not what is to be claimed. You are him. Feanor. Isn’t it? – Jon’s facial expressions are altering and indeed. It was Feanor. Next to him, was nothing but the Shadow that always accompanies him, for he was the Shadow itself. – YOU BLOODY SATAN! This is your Mirror, is that it? – I was right, you are one very clever, present and almighty moron. The name of your woman is always Brienne, but you were Daddy’s son, did what you were instructed, now, you are a man of your own. – What is the meaning of this!? – The only who beats My Mirror is destined to be the key to the human world!

How? He had no time to ask, everything was blurred, and no questions are set in stone, just the answer he has got. Directly or indirectly, through something or someone, is he obliged to someone or to do anything, with what, he knows nothing, he stayed blind to wander the world, he will be the impact and the grandest of all influences, all the lives he lived, vanished. He knows what this was all about now. It was when High King Feanor led his conquests, crashing the final matriarchs of the world. For it wasn’t always the patriarchy established, the first Matriarch, Head and Grand was Olenna Tyrell, now as the Last Ultimate who passed it all down to the woman’s bloodline, for the Holy Land will never be retaken on top with the Patriarch, it is assured, that the rest of the Earth is in the tempestuous and never-ending vicious cycle of Death and Life.

No one wanted it to be like this, but it became. He woke to the real reality of his, only to confront all these awed and inspired gazes upon him. Encircling him, while his beaming small daughter is clutching his hand, voicing to everyone, expressing that she has the best Father ever, for he bested what is not to be bested! Helping him on his feet. He stood up bemused, being of endangered private expanse. Everybody is just staring at him in wondrous admiration. Even Jon, Elvenking and Hand, neared him. What?! What did he do? Brienne broke all her shields and she hugged him. Roose patted him for his insane courage.
It prompted him, for it occurred to his being to look where is Mirror, but it is gone. Broken as he promised, into millions of pieces, never to piece together.
Somewhere, from above and down, all kindred kin of theirs, and Angels smiled upon something that stood since the First Dawn, now, it lays shattered.
When the Shadow falls. May it be the evening star that lights your lane. You walk a lonely road, so far from the place we call Home. Redeeming Lions.

For the first time, even the luckiest lion, discovers what he can do when he finds his brave heart, it was no luck by arrogance, he did it all on his own so. Alone, but together heartened and uphold. The Snow stopped snowing, raining down as the waterfalls. The Sun rays found their ways through shadow. Debt is paid in honor, dignified respect and gratified dignity, in which spectral and ghostly of Phantasm realm is, where Intelligent Design is inhabiting.
Darkness fell before me, no reward or punishment for Elf. It means nothing to Immortals, only for those who once were outlanders, now are Northmen.
*
And the little silver Princess of Dragons, the Lady of the Lions, who was showed by both the Dame and the Sir, for whom she harbors nothing but love and the utmost esteem, holding in the high regard Brienne who will knight her just as well in where Bolton stays her Godfather, caring for all them when they fall and when are standing up. Showing what it means to be strong and competent, preserving in the face of unhidden travails even when you don’t succeed, it isn’t what matters, what does, is that you either die or keep a vowed word. In what a fine, firm woman she will in the North, grow into, it is yet to be known as such in the future.
*
However, gentleness arrays her as her first and foremost nature, and really what attracts most those of the elvish is the way a mouth may smile. We comfort those lips when you are in pain.
*
Great imperial Angels of Blood and Dark. For Jon Snow is Lucifer, the Fallen, the lost son of Satan and Eve, while Lilith reincarnated him when he early died through Targaryen Elf, amongst all titles and diverse angelic lives, he is to be known, to us as the Bearer of the Light.

You know him, call as the Lord of Light.

Chapter 45: Blood and Magic

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When Freehold of Old Valyria, on their own planet was swarmed by the Dragons, nothing seemed unreachable, there were Bloodmages who could contrive such impossible possibilities which are unimaginable for all other, for the waiting for the long awaited, has passed and not for long they are going to tap into the darkness. By plenty of names we are familiar, we are known to you only as Bloodmages, you know us now also. Still, you will never know the looks of us, just those who are my kin. A hooded Targaryen showed itself, for it is invoked, Rhaenys is going to see to it that their bloody kin remembers a sin when they are keeping or hiding away humans from them. An oath is broken, now they are breaking it too. All is assembled.

- Children of Iluvatar we are, but not for each designed planet, for Men and Dwarves, like Hobbits, they are meant to be Arda’s children, but not us. We made ourselves at home, now, we wish to return everybody to your bosom. For especially human beings are orphans we will adopt. They are forsaken, we just take what is to be owned. So, find them for us, so that we can storm through this cursed Magic of the Far East – nobody is sure, not a soul or a breathing person that has existence of its volition, can’t tell for certainty the sex, origins or the name, but the disguised society among them lived. The civilized world of the pre – ancient civilization and amid, there was just one of the most hidden subrace that is revered highly.

- Our Milady, what is your order?

- Find them, bring us to them, and then, enforce that no one can escape us, until we do not come for ours.

- The human blood may be found in the Far East and its witchery only by another human blood. Do you have a drop, just a trickle of something which is human?

Hand of Queen glances back at Rhaegar, then Aemond, before she takes in the whole situation with the rest. Lastly, Rhaegar recalls. Who would think this is ever going to be needful, it isn’t certain and there is no sureness for anything, still, he pulls out what it looked like the single hair he collected from Jon’s human. Sam.

It is very entertaining, when they are in front of them, they act normally, but whenever there are just Dragons, in humanoid or Dragon form, the name ceases to be the person behind it and all what remains is…something of human. The Bloodmage was more than pleased, smelling it slightly.

- Male, good. If it were a woman, it would be far too difficult. For the Dark Arts do not recognize at once whose blood it is, it takes time we do not have, but this…this is Eureka. Fine work! – not even by the voice, you wouldn’t be able to distinguish anything of this... Mystic.

Performing the simple ritual by the charms and spelling enchantments, the beauty of what was the human, is absorbed by the Blood that manifested from the Walls and Doors, it was showing them the real pathway which they need to tail, so that they can reach the other side where they were. Once they are there, it is over. Despite the chances, here it was the intense blocking. Something was interrupting the search. This is getting more than just fun.

- We are not alone, someone got here before us. – What, who?! – Rhaenys is the one who demands, the leading she leaves to her Dragon Queen, and by each passed second, the answer is becoming confusing. – Keeps self to the sidelines. I can’t differ if it is a male or female, or both, never mind, I must bypass the grander obstacle. – It is on purpose set? – Yes, most cunningly. It is of a prescient Age, from even more ancient Realms.

The hour couldn’t be bought, it waits no one, running out. While on that other side, Legolas wasn’t fooled. He knows, this is why they have to be quicker or even his people along with their living kingdom will be endangered sorely. Not to mention families, his own, doesn’t care what happens to him, as long as the Life is secured. It is a great feat that is accomplished in such a short instant, for it could take longer. It was the mad plan to misuse Jaime’s love for Brienne and it worked.

He played the game and won. He isn’t just the famous Archer, there is a lot more in him dwelling than just one side of Legolas who is aware that Jon is going to foster a grudge because of it, but the inevitable blood sacrifice led to the success where one eastern Shield of the Magic of the Far East has fallen down, and the Aisle was open, for an even shorter time, that is a reason all had to hurry up, be hasty. No time to waste upon the begrudging, but, if that was so simple, he would be not only mistaken, something wouldn’t be right if this was that easy. Feanor didn’t take into consideration that one of Targaryens are going to f*cking have something of the human, because that something is now preventing him to completely cover the People of the North and Jon Snow, they are going to be found faster than it is ever even planned.

Blood Magic is the sub-art of the Dark Arts and the Sorcery of Charmed. He could only hope that Tywin arrives promptly. Until then, everything is to unfold how it is ordained by the Higher Powers of God! Even he can’t do much when it is in the question the Game that is spinning the Wheel of Time right now at this key minute!
- Tauriel. Lead Sam out, let him join his people and King, and you stay with them. Guide Highlanders, you are by far the most vigorous Elf Lady I have met. Go! Do not resist me!
- Grand Sire, you are going to bleed out from every hole, what are you going to do?! I can be of help, please, let me aid you. Even if it is little I…
- No, no time, no senses…Thank you, Dear. Your heart blooms, but let it for Jon and his humans, the Pack that needs you, not me. - Sire, this is the Blood Magic, and you are TARGARYEN AS WELL! Thanks to your mother’s side, you won’t take it, for you are of flesh and blood. – Tauriel…do as I said. Go!
- Your Grace, she is right, if there is anything she can do, let her, it can wait. – You are unaware what kind of greater perils are threatening. If the Blood Magic alike the Craft of Black Wizardry is maltreated, it can open the portal to others, not only dimensions and alternate universes, but something far worse and I am not what I used to be. I can’t hold it! For longer!

Tauriel was desperate. This was the man who happens to be Elf, incarnated as God’s adversary, the one who sinned beyond any grave, and yet, there is nothing anyone can do when his unshakable resolve is to assist those in need, saving what matters the most. That becomes his punishment. But, he gave the word, vowed oath, and that pledge goes to his Empress he will never let down, not now, not ever.

Whatever it meant, for he becomes a human likewise award of mortality if he achieves what no one had at all. The Blood Magic isn’t shadowbinding of Shadowbinder, Melisandre’s territory of the Blood Witch, it is something a lot more sinister in which even she isn’t ready to dwell if she doesn’t have to. For the Shadows only bind your flesh, but for the soul bound, there is no place in the dominion of believing spirits. Keeping your heart and the spirit asunder. What turns a boy into a man is when the boy leads the man’s war, it separates the boyhood from the manhood, for the luck follows the bravest of brave hearts.

Taking form, reshaped. It is this moment which even Feanor never sought for. Never questioned. For it isn’t expected. More human than Elf, more Targaryen than he is ever to all. Prove right now, what you are made of, for you have lots of proving to plant. When unbeknownst to anyone’s knowledge, in absence of hope, he fares! Rebuild to even the fairest of the glory, for death always comes for a human, in spite of all.

The Greatest the Endless Night in Winter, for when everything is grim and dark, what resides in each of us, it is only then, awoken from the dream that was never slept or dreamed, it stays undreamed, whilst we are still awake and watch in terror what is implicit and untold. Non spoken. We are the Core. From us, all lionhearts flow, lionized tyrants fall. Exists the sole War. There is no need for anybody to open for us Doors, we are inviting ourselves in, alone.

Chapter 46: The tiniest flame lights the Dead Night

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Stretching the unraveling cosmos as it was spanning the Last standing, sovereign Citadel in the East of Oberyn Martell. Which continues to wait for the King of the North. For the time being, Feanor is being tyrannized by the Bloodmagic for whom he had no the conception or the ending. So acquainted he has become with all sorts of wizardry, but this was the most common that prevented him from reaching further into the nexus. He has to get him or her out in the open, where is his playground, but the more he pushed, the more it becomes tensed, which means, he has to let go, relax the string, and the blood from him flew, except Tauriel couldn’t relieve Elder Emperor nor Sam could watch the man’s face, the same as Jon’s, in anguishing fatigue, there had to be something they could do, and all the while they are trying to find the solution, he was falling deeper when lastly, he is confronted in another Life that wasn’t other reality, it was full of star sheen while an astral travel and voyaging through the sheer space, made it inescapable. Face to face both are.

- Do I know you? From someplace?

- Of course you do. Your Highness. You have…changed. You are not the same as you were. Strange, not like before or the way it was for the unnumbered eons. You grew…old. Feanor. Elves do not age one bit, but I see in your eyes, you feel your Old Age like the Beauty of the Beast that caught up even with you. It is draining you. For you are hopeless to shelter what is doomed to fail. My Grace. – Under whose name you are hiding now? – Annatar.

- So, Sauron, nice to meet you again. How is with Morgoth? – We should have been your children with Lilith, but all what she did is just reimagining, the perfect Forger of all Time. For The Truest Fountain was Eve. The mother of the humankind. From her womb, all started, even I. And the Dark Goddess can’t stand that Eve’s grave is never found out. Where are you keeping her hidden? – As you know. She is incarnated through another woman. My Empress…was Eve. – Ah, and the Third One? – It is obvious. – Jon’s Queen. Ygritte. – But, you seek the Original, and do not try your coldness of the voice on me, it is not even morbid, this is something I will never give you, never the remains which are securely kept secret. – Why, Father? Don’t we deserve the same love? Just because you are so youthful, it doesn’t mean that spring days of my big brother are passing.

- You are both my Abominations of which I got rid of. Jon Snow was the real success. – Ah, yes… we slew our third brother. Who was…the First. If they only knew, that you are the moment from which even my Master Morgoth and I as his little brother, bound in incest, are living. You are bathed in sins, you bask in Fires.
The Flame of Feanor grew bolder and Annatar demonstrates himself completely in the naked form of his. This is how really looked Sauron under the macabre mold, this is the real sculpture of his. That of cherub while Morgoth is of Seraph, and he sees through his eyes, they are now united in one. Under one name and claiming the mutual face. Sauron and Morgoth are both Annatar. Shape shifters and Changelings by all their glory and in the right they are taking from all others due to envy the two envisioned, for the world is imperfect and it needs corrections.

Who would ever be Dreamer as Rhaegar among Targaryens to say that the true Beast is not the one with an ugly countenance, it is all the time all about the fallen angels, because of them, his Jon Snow fell too with the unknown name he never got it right for him, even today, he doesn’t want to pronounce it. Humans had sacrificed him, only for him to return in a human name amongst them once more. Foolish to save something that is doomed to die, yet, because of him and Eowyn, he must survive the cage he put around himself. People fear those cages so much till they grasped what they fear, that which restrains minds, was just a missed opportunity which Elves always offered in exchange for something mightier and with the depth to be born from the loins and wombs alike, tied by the purest Love!

- I am killing you. You are dying. – As you will. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO POISONED TARGARYENS! You Viper of the Eden! You are my abnormality, of which I am going to put an end to it, once and for all! – in that instant, Annatar is transformed into the hideous and colossal enormity of unmeasurable lengths, for its proportions had no bounds. It was the chimera of the Three Headed Dragon, the bloodily Dragon seal.

Roaring, towers over Feanor in splendor of unconcerned woes and disinterested valor. Now, you are going to meet your End. And your Jon Snow will be slaughtered once again. Oh, what I shall do to him, with his carcass. Once he is dead while watching from sidelines the Rape and the Violation of what he aspired to preserve. Poor Jon Snow. NO! NO! Get out of my mind! You Beast of Seven Hells! I am not the Devilish Monster I used to be. No!

- We can’t come closer, he doesn’t look good, and in my bowels, I feel. Sam. Our Emperor…won’t last! – she looks desperately at the ordinary human being, like she was asking from him to do something, what can he? Wait, Grandsire of Jon did tell him something, that he understands what is the big deal about him.

Yes! He has no concept of how much powerful Jon could become, and yet, it didn’t stop him from being himself around him, his friend. Jon Snow, it seems, is just the Bud, and his powers are of God, and somehow, to him, Jon is just…well, Jon? And verily, didn’t ever occur to him, that maybe, just perhaps, Jon is, well, someone before whom he should cower? Hm, nah.
This is Jon. He is pretty much an idiot and without him, what would he accomplish, anyway? No, really. Some things need to be put right. Yes. Jon Snow together with plenty of others and the great number of Titans and Giants, is on the prime of the Universe’s Master, but…not a single man, be it Elf or Man, can do it alone.

Never. They need something or someone to fill their heartbeats, to have for what they fight for. When that is gone, then, what is really the use of all that power and might? Right, it is just the elven force in him, nothing else. What remains is…well, Jon Snow. This is how he estimated and so it shall be so.

- I am going. Inside. His body is here, but the Spirit of Fire must be saved, lend me your Blaze, Lady Tauriel, I am going to bring back the Emperor of all Elves – this was madness. Despite her initial shock, Tauriel kissed Sam’s hands. – You would do it?! For us?! Sam?! – Sure, why not. I cook nearly every day for everyone, especially Jon, I know when you must burn a bit more, just to get the better tastes of plentiful flavors.

The Cook of the King and Librarian of the North, well, that was something what nobody could boast about. After all, well, what could go wrong? No, would it be that hard? Is he going to manage it?! Soon, he came to realize, that Tauriel upon the touch, swiftly and sudden, brought it about, he was teleported, simply transferred to the nous of the Beginnings. All of his existing he hid things from the Life, but it doesn’t mean, before or after, the Life doesn’t find the way and it should be allowed to soar high.

Harnessing nothing but freedom, for when you are free in your mind, that is the liberation of all shackles which are chaining you to the ground.

Sam was just Sam, that is the very reason for the successful passage of Time and Space, seeing how from up above, the strange star vessels of cosmic shapes in the vision of the Womb are soaring, resembling the fairy dust, whiles some other space born animals are going through with the melody of the Ainur.

So beautiful for his vivid senses, but, what drew his attention was the Gorgon of the Storybook! To the front of the Elven Emperor. Oh, no! He raced, about to gallop, finding himself hurriedly next to the man who is a very image of Jon, his best friend.

Without any realistic dread, he kneeled next to him, realizing that the Universal Phantom, is the figment of Feanor’s greater fear. Alone!

- Sam…you came…for me?! – faintly speaking, it didn’t even sound like him, he has to get him out of here.
- Sire, the Great Serpent, see, you petrified it with your look! Let me help you! – indeed, from the other side of the real life, all what has remained of the Bloodmage is the hood and the bleeding liquid, leaving Targaryens in the startling positions, they are released from the manipulation, yet, still bluntly closer to their prey, for Annatar in its last moments, left the opening for them, similarly to the wormhole, they are invading. For that time, Sam helps Feanor to stand up. What happened to him?!

- Jon! – out of instinct. – I am not…him. – You bear his face, it is enough for me. I hate to see you suffer, I love when you are happy! – Feanor gazes up, the eyes were mortal and tearing apart. – Sam, forgive this Old Fool. I knew no better. Now, I know what does matter, but it is too late for me.

- Tauriel is ready to transport us. You have to get back to your body. You have to keep your promise! You are Jon’s Ghost! – Dear Sam, take care of my Jon and tell him, to love humans when no one does. He is the only light remaining for the human race. I tried to stray them from the self – destructive path, but how can you mend something what you broke in the first place. Sam. I really have no imagination of your power, but you are something…else. I have no strength left. – Your Grace, let me tell you something, for I wish you to say it to his face I am looking at now. And that is...if I can’t already carry your burden – flowers blooming – I can carry YOU!

Feanor never before deemed or ever to reckon that he is going to be carried by none other…than the simple man. Due to a marvel, to Sam he wasn’t heavy. What is Elf in comparison to all flour bags, behind him, a Grand Beast of all the Beasts fell and he enjoyed the royal weight of the Elf Emperor. Speaking to him, not permitting, not even a second to fall asleep. Or he is to stay asleep forever. It prompted him to speak about the Sleeping Beauty, which interested Feanor’s mind, occupied with something fairer. Before they know it, he was back to Tauriel and Feanor is replenished, without any word, his eyes told you all. Becoming a glimmer of Ghost, he vanishes and honored Tauriel is taking the special human out of the transcendental sphere. The tale older than Wheels of Space and Time or the Game of Thrones.
*
Give all of oneself for me to keep, all to myself. Belonging to me. To the finest imagined odd.
When there is not the slightest daylight, a little of hope, enters as a sliver of inspiration and enlightens the hard life you live. Even if that is the only you possess, once the world sees it, it makes you survive even the harshest of evil, shining brighter than anything. God smiled and smiles so... from above. You do not think of tomorrow. Continue to rejoice in taking pleasure.

Chapter 47: Our Jon Snow is liable to ego, his friend who falls to Shadow. This is Lesson of Person.

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In the presence of something when you at long last understand that you are watching someone with a unique set of eyes, differing from what your idea was. Downright from shadows to conjure both subduing and consoling, quite is the sight. For Legolas smells what is to come about and befalls even his people, Targaryens. They have to make haste, urging them to round up quicker than it was feasible. For one was missing, only now, Jon Snow notices it.

- I was so sure he is here?! – more and different was the look upon his fair face, for being fair in the visage of the elven, matters less if it is colored by the shades of concern and woe.

- Where is my Sam?! – he starts repeating himself, while people all around start searching for the missing person. – Your Wife is here! At least! – Jaime as always was, well, the genius of the party, and the days of his own glory are cut short, Roose sighs out deeply, much deeper than he was used to doing, for he was the oldest veteran and surrounded by children who never grew up. Someone would deem that is the good thing. One wise head among the pumpkins, but no, they are rubbing off on him in all the wrong ways which are for the purpose of reading, censored and very shrewdly stashed safely. What he has to tolerate is not even written down in the books, except, at all times, he is mistaken if he thinks that Jaime Lannister is the Star, no, that place is forevermore reserved for Jon Snow.

- Jaime, I commanded that you are succeeding me and you guard when the duty calls, however, I never told you to lose someone! How are you able to lose my Sam?! He is round, big and softy! – the lost case from the start, and there is no cure for the infamous idiocy both Jaime and Jon shared, going so far to say that they were perfect for each other in many ways than all that is put together.

- I swear, vow and claim, I didn’t see him, nor I ever caught sight of him! – Brienne meddles in, it seems, her weakness for him, faded away quicker than the Sun and Moon, oh well, back where they were and started, who would say, it lasted longer than intended.

- You wouldn’t see even the herds of elephants if they are to pass by under your nose! – Brienne, don’t be like that! – Please, people, you have to go out! Now, you passed and… - Your Grace – Roose interferes and interrupts Elvenking. – Your Elf Majesty, this is the matter between us, please, you wouldn’t throw us now out even with the whole force of the elven kind.

- But, who is that person that is so important to risk it all!? – The most important. – WHO?! – Our cook! – when Legolas didn’t die there and then out of shocking surprise, he would never, indeed. – Cook!? – Yes, and don’t ask, it is the concern of North’s Pride! – I will find him, here is Haldir and… - I serve and offer myself to… - We do need your ass served to us, Haldir – Roose was practical, Tywin was right. Wolves are the practical breed in all the mess and amid the anarchy. – We need our Cook back! – all the while, Jon hollers. – How can you miss Sam!? How is that even likely?! He is of the bear’s size!

- I think I saw him! – You think wrong, Jaime! You reckon erroneously! – at that moment, even Rhaenyra involves herself with the little Syrax. – We must go find him! Quick, Syrax, search for Sam! – this was ridiculous, Targaryens are breathing after their necks and they are in the course of uprising for the missing Cook! If someone told Legolas after everything he survived that this is going to be the key moment of his life, he wouldn’t believe not even for all eternity. And Lady and Ygritte in her wolf shape are sniffing around, of any hidden door or something of magic, anything that falls to the elvish enchantment. Nonetheless, Syrax truly felt something and when she tried to examine, both Tauriel and Sam crept out from the Wall. Everybody stopped in their tracks, watching the beauty of the Wood She – Elf and their Cook (veiled Librarian). What the?! Jon demands.

- Who are you?! Why did you take him!? What kind of the afair does she have – he turns sternly to Legolas – my brother…(it echoed in all, specially to the Elvenking, the former Prince of the same Woodland kingdom) – with him?! How dare you seize him! Get away! – Jon saw the Blood and Fire, the Dragon in him is awakened and prior to his imploding or anybody having the time to step between, the little Syrax goes back to her even smaller Mistress and Lady, curling up and hiding, while all what she has to do, Tauriel, is to smile kindly at Jon Snow. So, this was him. Everything what was heard about him, was more than true, even better when he is real.

- Dragon in you is as strong as the Wolf. Your Grace – she completely and with open bareness that left every soul stunned, stood before Jon Snow, let him strike her if she committed such a sin, because all what she has done was bending the knee in the most refining way of the elegant woman, introducing herself – I am Tauriel. I was sent the message that I am to serve you and your company, by the order of my King and the one who is counseling you from afar. You know his name, the Great Wizard Gandalf. I am your gift.

She understood why he is thinking little of Elves, it brought him to this point of his life.
Will it be turning or something better, she just wishes to return the faith in the goodness and that they are not all like everyone else. There are good people everywhere who are also Jon Snow, be they woman or man, of any nation or creed, even race. She suffered the hardest injustice and the most receiving grace. Resting on her just a little more, no less of something we call trust. Wholeheartedly hoping that Ice, chained around his soul, shall thaw a tad, for there is room for everyone in there. With no bounds and no indoctrination, the conditioning of anyone, no dogma practice, dogmatic grooming. When you are free in your mind, the possibilities turn to Boundless.

- Why does the Gift claim what is not hers? – the fearsome room falls silent, and Feanor’s Mirror forgotten, as it was yesterday broken into the million pieces, staying so. – He came willingly. To help me out – kindness and calm composure were her best weapons. – Jon, she is telling the truth. – You wouldn’t know even what is truthful and what not, Sam. She is Elf, she could seduce you and… - Just wait a minute! – Sam grew beyond angry, he was infuriated. No one ever assumed that he has got that in himself, but it was always in here, with him, this is how he faces everyone and everything, be it Bolton or King. Face to Face. – You really believe that I am weak. Jon?

- No, Sam – his voice is raspier than before, what is happening to him, why he reacts, only to Sam, in such a way, whenever he is distressed or watching anyone being hurt?!

- I am just worried about you, I care, that is all... - I know I am just a human, but give me some due. I came this far. And yet, all what you see is just my appearance of weakness? – No, Sam! - Well, I am sorry for being useless to you. Jon Snow. I am good only when there is to be in the service to you. To be your servant. But know what. I don’t give a damn, what you all think of me, not you, not God, not Elf, but this woman, yes, I am pointing at her, IS AN ANGEL in the elfin image! I tell you. Never before I befriended such a good, kind and nice person. And you, you are becoming the version of human beings I hate the most. And you know who they are? They even have a name, and they are named hypocrites! ELF Targaryen! All my life, I was uttered to, how worthless I am. Well, let it be so! I am tired to prove something what I can’t do. To anybody. But I can, in the least say something about you all, mighty and powerful, the strongest who fall first just because you think you are sufficient to suffer all by self.

Speechless, no words, literally not even Ned Stark spoke like this to Jon. No one. But Sam spoke to all. What does he get to lose, except his human life? Dignity he doesn’t give to anyone. He is Jon’s friend, he remains to be and do so.
Even his serving maid, but give the f*ckING CHANCE, if you already did it to Haldir, give to the First Elf ever, who came ON HER OWN, to bend the knee. He holds Jon in the highest favor. Thinks highly of him.

- Just once in your life, be a MAN I want to look in the KING! If you keep up with all your curtains down, forever darkness is your only counsel!

Embarrassed, humiliated, because you were in need for one honest human life, to tell you what it means to be HUMAN. Jon Snow. It is unimportant, what is your blood, as long as you are…of the pure heart. And his was for a very long time, painted by all the hues of the world, but never with the one that calls for his human side. Yes, he was Wolf, Dragon, but the least what he was supposed to be. Feanor was never wrong, Sam kept his word. Jon doesn’t need saving. Jon holds all the Powers of the Universe in just one his little finger, yet, if he doesn’t learn the humility, forgiveness and mercy, he has the plainly clear road to become even worse than Celebrimbor, Morgoth or Sauron, or any out there Dark Lord who lost their paths to the arrogance!

- All right, Sam… Everything will be…as you wish.
*
I was just King’s Cook, God knows I was no better, if you tell me now to give my life for you. I would. Without thinking. No good expect to be Cook.
*
Good for nothing, but still, I have my worth, and I give it to no one! NOT even you! Miscomprehended on both sides that hate each other, with no end.

You were…my All. My promise has given birth to the inner strength of Ringworld. Everything is in blood.

Sky bells are listened to the blood and our deaths.

Chapter 48: Birth of something new and different

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The taken love from anyone is the same as going underground, the underworld of watery caves and underwater grounds. When a lady enters, you stand up. Only when she sits, you are down with her. Time is soon up, leaking as it was born for us to love. For that time, Brienne, was evaluating Tauriel, the Daughter of the Woods and Stone, she was an outstanding as well as outlandish, all at the same time, just like her! She liked her. Jaime was impressed of the Elf who had no ego. To Roose, this one looked more useful than Haldir who wants to own his asshole. At least, with this Elf, his buttocks are safe. Yes, Bolton, when your greatness comes to the point you must choose between the pragmatism and the actual use of someone. Syrax and Rhaenyra are enchanted by She – Elf.

While Lady and Ygritte, even approached to sniff her slightly, loving her smell, she endearingly caresses them both, can’t wait for Jon Snow’s mood change about her, and when it did, it was all thanks to unflinching Sam, she never doubted, he had balls heavier than their King.

It seems, that was the issue when one’s manliness is questioned. While Legolas was proud and Haldir felt about her as the sister he was in need for. Bolton will get owned. While for Sam, no one was surprised in fact, Roose even sneered at Jon for he never got over the simplest of facts, just because he is the King and one of the mightiest ever there was for the North or of Elves, it means nothing if you underestimate the ant that right now kissed your pride. Jon Snow, when Ygritte gave her blessing along Lady, neared the woman of Elves, a pure of the purest blood, yet bent a... knee.

- Thank you for giving yourself to me. I believe I have no need for someone like you, but…I trust others and… - he glances at Sam – my friend’s good judgment that you are going to serve us all well – and that was it, she was accepted, her soul thrilled, except, in front of him, she was all solemn and serious, but you can’t fool Jon, he watches in her glittering orbs just how much the duty had the numerable impact on her own spirit.

After the initiation and welcoming her to his Pack, the Dame of the North, Lady Brienne was amongst the first to congratulate her. Proudly goes to Elf.

- It looks, you are our Elf now! – she offers a hand which Tauriel takes with both hands, thanking her. – For Haldir, it was much different, he was introduced and given, you are the very first who dared in front of Jon Snow, alone…I know what suggests being a woman and for it, I have nothing but admiration. We are…all women, at least, this is what I learned, being just like him, only to see the truth we were forbidden to know.

Tauriel couldn’t take it anymore, sharing the moment with Brienne by hugging her with the whole heart of her spirited mirth. Others joined to receive her in the full circle. The Full blooded Elf. Who would tell it, of her own free will and Haldir joins the party while Roose was at the safe distance, because of it. Only a bit later, when they all were let in arrays to meet her, he was the last to extend a hand for her. The handshake was of the prophecy.

- It was said that our ranks, if only temporary, will join up the woman who has got the Flame in her hair. Who would think that the beauty of the Elf…captivates – he shared a glance with Jon, leaving him in his grumpiness, for he will melt for her rather quickly, knowing Jon Snow, before he returns his sole attention upon Tauriel – even our King in the North. He is…silly sometimes, but of the good heart, he lived through a lot and we humans, never make it easy for him, you see for yourself – with the fulfilled feeling she answers back.

- I wouldn’t have it any other way, thank you, all – swirling around to encompass everybody with her elven sight that will come in handy, joined with all others – for the promised opportunity – and thus, Roose completes the circle with a small smirk. She will do just fine. For Lady already decided that Tauriel is her another favorite person next to Brienne, and Ygritte transforms into the beauty she must hide of the sisterly, uncannily joint haired color. She – Elf was astounded, startled for it was effortlessly done and she understands while she stays more Wolf than in her human mold, for she was entirely on some other league of which Jon Snow becomes the protective Beast if someone even dares to near her, this is why she is in her wolfish shape extensively protected and he is at peace in his heart. She learned to control with perfection all of her advantages, which now praises the Daughter of the Elven Forests. Silvan in all her graceful refinement and gracious glee. – Your Grace, your wife is indeed the most gorgeous one.

Well, it did soften him just a little bit, showing the slight smirk, but just slight, he doesn’t want for her to get it overly and easily to her mind, for now, Legolas winked, it was time to go. He came closer to the Elvenking, both just looked one another. Yes, it is time to say goodbye, his Elves are in good hands and Legolas won’t show that Elves cry too. Maybe, one day, they will meet again, under some different conditions. Who knows. Jon voiced this.

- Legolas – the Elf smiles gently, while all others are waiting, for a while – thank you, you equipped us with all we need to get to Oberyn. I hope we will and I can’t pay you back…enough. – Then, take back all I have given by staying alive and succeeding. For we do not take what we gave away, at this moment, a new order arises, and this is something what I always wanted for us all, even though my intentions appeared bleak and shady, it was this Magic that one of your man…broke.
- The Future King – people around shy Jaime, ever so lightly, stirred the moving wheel of fate. – Yes, I see why is that. You chose very well. – I shall have troubles for it, everyone is aware of it, but the fair is fair, I learned it from someone today – glimpses shyly at his Sam who offers him finally the old Sam’s smile that relieves him, turning to Legolas of Silvan. – Thank you for buying us Time.

- That is what counts the most. You will achieve peace, one way or another. With all others and him. – Still, I can’t thank you...the best of us, opened my eyes – it is aimed at Sam even if he is looking at Elvenking, it was comprehended after all. – I hope for the joined fellowship too. Jon Snow. Together, we all, without these…differences, we should put aside, but to no avail. My race, remains the Elven, but in the least…we ascertain the foundation for some better days, the nights bathed in lightness. So that we can enjoy the Sun as much as the sunshine offers you the daytime. Together, savoring the same delights. But, it is just a dream. – Dreams come true. My Dad has promised.

Legolas doesn’t grasp each word but he understands by sharing glimpses with Tauriel that something transpired that led to the waking of those who never slept, with the open eyes his people for the first time dreamt the world they walked. The kingdom of his starts to awaken altogether but the menacing threat remains to haunt their halls. Targaryens are still out there. This is their chance to bypass, giving them sufficiently space they required so.

- I know you will never accept us completely. You don’t have to. But, if not as a friend or brother...take me then, as your comrade. Will you, Jon?

The first time ever, Jon broke and embraced something that is as alien to him as he was, and when he had, it was real. It felt as him, of the same material he was composed too. The Power and Potency were out of this world. Yes, he was one with the Stars, except for, he fights to stay with them, into the luminosity of the Sunless starlight. North people got readied and after being the witnesses of Jon’s brimming feelings out in the open, before the equal, all what they could say is with a smile. Before they knew it, they were taking in with the new member, the sweet odor of the freedom, the snow didn’t thaw, it stays too as it is just for a little while conveying to everybody. Let me be with you, once I am gone, I never return the same as I were to you all.

All promises and wishes come true just as dreams. A heart of every Dragon beats together but never like the one that is divided between Jaime and Jon.
From where do we draw our inner strength, oh Great Serpent? For even the brief and fleeting presences, remain the bonds for forever, welcomed in life.
The cold and distant light, becomes warm and close. One man, one day, said, I wouldn’t drink your water or eat your food if that is meaning becoming your player for the greater game in the Dance of Dragons but give me something to sow and see what will grow out the next year when you come back.
*
- Maglor? Where is your mate? On the quest to devour some Men? – With the King who acknowledged him for both our sakes. Gandalf helps. After all, Father was clear. Help them, and…of course, Jon and I share our respective history when Great Ned Stark, the last human ruler of North was still alive. – Lannister is a next human. – Is he!? Doesn’t he bear Dragon’s heart in his chest? Nothing less but King’s. Targaryen was in him, ceasing to be the full human being.

*
- My royal mate wouldn’t mind the threesome. – Elf, if you get closer to me, in any way, I am going to own your ears! – Does it mean I may take you into my captivity? Hold in my arms? Or even better, claim you? – God help me. Bloody Elves and Snow!
*
Identical or fraternal…twins stays twins. For every bother and sister of Dragons, are mostly twins. Why? There is an idea that it comes from the First Twin Trees of Aman!

Chapter 49: Hardening of Valyrian Steel and evoking Silver Falls

Chapter Text

There is a saying, once the Elves gain your trust, and reassure you in their honesty, they strike, but it is unlikely to come from those you doubt the most.

Of numerous faces and even innumerous the faceless, this was the truth of the elven races, only if it serves an intentional purpose, but there is a chance that is coming to pass, this is why all seems so different from before, felt in the icy air that doesn’t freeze, it refreshes. Isn’t it enough?

Just sensing you are satisfied with life in all its forms, how it came to you. Love when there is nothing to be loved, that is the secret of Tauriel and her Silvan kin, for we were always different from the rest of our kind or so we spoke.

Wild, less wiser, uncontrolled, more prone to our emotions which guide us profoundly. And right now, even if it doesn’t snow, the delight came from the North, and the Highlanders felt at home. Tauriel never believed she would be surrounded with so much beauty and blessings of Mother Nature.

Yes, she decided a right choice, if her head doesn’t know, heart always tells. Ygritte who was now in more suitable clothes for the winter, got closer to her, somehow, instinctively the two ladies connected on the higher plains of existing.

- I see you like our snow. I was brought up in such around my Jon – a silky voice flies free.

- Groomed into it?

- No, I was his dog and he my Hooman… by the way, which he still is and by now, I talk a lot perfectly, everything else just happened – the two women burst out laughing, quietly, in between, without drawing much of attention on selves, but Jon would here and there, glance back, just to make sure that everything is all right with, well, everything and his wife.

- When did you take each other? And the ceremony? First night?

- That was our ceremony along the way with the First Night. I took him from behind, he jumped on me from the front. He is always like this. Even when he kisses, he owns all or nothing. Yes, strange. He is more a Dragon than Wolf, and yet, more human overall. Jon won’t admit it to himself – pause, she continues, like a fairy spoken being.

- But a myriad of times, a great number of it, we suffer the huge problems because of his temper which he later regrets. In every possible way, North people keep to traditions, but when they are on the voyage, all is subjected to the improvisations and this is how everyone acknowledges, even Lannisters who took upon their creed, even though theirs was that of the Seven, which Targaryens took too upon arrival with the rest, even though they have their alien culture, just to fit in, others of theirs, made their own homes. However, Lannisters are completely assimilated, saving their distinctive origins among the North, while all the others, weren’t that lucky. Sometimes, the North takes and gives all at once. Northmen are just the way they are, sometimes even invoked by their Normen callings when they sailed a lot. Horses and companions weren’t their practice a lot, but boats and ironwood vessels, which they mainly used for raids with which they asserted their Northern kingdom. – What did they take the most? And no, nothing is undue to me anymore, speak freely. – Well, they would come for Brides, yes…do not giggle. For lots of times, the Time would come for bridenapping, at the defined hour and in the definite place. They would just load them all in and later, they became their wives.

- Willing? – Big co*cks! – JON out of shame for eavesdropping, had to scold Ygritte. – YGRITTE! She doesn’t need to know each detail and that is not the truth! Do not shame us! – Which part?! That abducted ladies came on their own or that you are small down there!? – I am not small… - he is turning all red, people are sneering, this is what they loved the best of every quest, whenever there was their loving King and charming Queen, even the feistier small games, a little of marital issues between those two which are such fun to experience by all senses accordingly by the law, enriching morale. – I am just saying that we are noble and strong and...smart…and all those potential…brides…were welcomed.

- With all the chains, stuffed mouths and gags…even during the ceremonial rites – she stares with the meaning at Tauriel that held her bird’s laughter in while Haldir eyed Roose creepily. He senses those lustful intentions upon his…body and mind, not the mention the non – meaningful nonsense of sneaking upon him to lurk around. These Elves never give up on the prey, and everyone else just had to put up with the same. – Ygritte, don’t be like that!

- No sex for you till the end of the month! – My woman, do not make a scene in front of everyone! What did I do?! – Just being an Idiot! – I loved you more when you were all about Hooman and affectionate, now you are turning into my Lady Mother.

- That is our duty, she will be so surprised, or not, when she meets me! Your wife! – Jon rolled his eyes, she is no fun and she should be more fun or get it, ah, Queens!
Father warned him. Tauriel enjoyed so and Haldir had an idea to offer himself as relief, to give it to his King as well, but one look at Roose told him all, not to even dare to think about it, one more time and there will be all kinds of feathers to fly. And so the Life flew and Jon is grouchier than ever. No sex. How can she deny him of something that is the husband’s right?! Oh, well, his manhood will have to suffer it and become patient, we shall get her!

- Daddy? – it came from nowhere, Rhaenyra’s question while they trudged upon the rustling snow, holding her Dad’s hand.

- Yes, my dearest? – Do you sometimes, hate me? – What?! – You were bridenapped too and here I am. – It has nothing to do with you! – squeezes her wee hand in fondness, assuring his daughter whilst little Syrax is sleeping calmly in peace in one of her little pockets, she could feel how she is nesting here and there, making her tiny heart happy.

- You sure? – I wanted you, that is what matters! I fought for you and…won! – Rhaenyra, the little silver Princess of Stars and Dragons, a fair Lady of all the Lions, in the far glimmers, watches her old life and the father she used to know, these two men she loves so much, disparate from originating places, varying backgrounds, where they come from as their kindred, the way they think, were similar. Not the same or identical, but their souls were pulsing regular beats of people who harbored nothing but love in their bosoms and they were doing everything in their might to remain it so, for the greater good of their posterity.

- Dad, I am so proud you are my Dad and…I do not need a mother. I have women I look up to and thank you for giving and creating my life! I won’t let you down. Ever! – well, let us just say, Rhaenyra knew how to control her emotional feelings and extraordinary emotions which are heart – touching, flowing through and out her, but Jaime is still human. He loves to make the Bastard of himself, it easy when people hate him, than to chain them down, but this, would break even the most hardened of golden lions. In secrecy, it stayed between just the two. Keeping her even closer, fondling in his warmness and Love.

Yes, he fought and won. Later that night, his wish came true, was granted unexpectedly for the sheer feels of his feelings unlocked another secret craft.

- Where am I? – You are dreaming, Jaime, but you invoked me and here I am – that gentle voice, wits and similarities…were unmistaken. Tyrion Lannister, he looks upon his brother! – Tyrion, is that you?! – Trust me, if I stayed a man, they would harvest my brain. – What?!
- There is a lot of me to talk with you. I am certain we are going to meet again, brother.

- You are imagined Cersei, like I am watching an image of her and…

- I know she misses us, more than we miss her, she chose it for herself. Betraying only hers, while we picked up the crumbs from her table. Well, no more and just to notify you. I am there with you by every taken step. Jaime, my all – both brothers held each other so strongly, taking in all of it.

Obtaining the knowledge, the deepest dream and the darkest fullness from that side of the real world, of the plain realism, for other planes are yet locked and not for him granted to be open, only to be awakened by his Rhaenyra. Something was very wrongfully, feels awry and got colder than before, he wasn’t mistaken. Surrounded were by the DRAGONS?! Since when Targaryens can bring them along and how…this far?! It is the very reason they all thought they are safe. They were in the wrong. Very so. Annatar beat them to it. The shadowing was overthrowing all of the Northmen. The glistered starlight is occupying each and every of their wit. How could this come to be?! Targaryen’s pale irises are confronting those of the High Lands, greeting in a relish.

On the far side of their verity, Great Prince Daemon Targaryen, nicknamed by the Dark Angel and graced as the Dark Prince of theirs got from Bringer of Gifts, something what was sent by his Shadow Messenger. It was indeed King Bee, Lord Maekar Targaryen, keeping his promise to the end. In his hands, he held the finest nuance of the richest ore that can’t ever be found in their dimension, but can in other lives, it was of the North, the forgotten substance from which is wrought Excalibur, the Holy Sword that matches and breaks Valyrian Steel as it is nothing, if it weren’t for his Art. Beamed gladly with a dark and deep lavender glare, so darkly, deeply.
*
The first night in freedom, all the while upon the white skyline, the brightest star shines, tinted in Northern Lights. If I had just one more possibility to see its North’s smile, hearing how it calls me…her Hooman.
I required for the smallest of the litter, instead, I got the runt that turned into My Wolf Queen.
*
It echoes through corridors of Time and Space…, one more time, you are stuck with us.

Chapter 50: The Song of Ice and Fiery Light

Chapter Text

Ygritte transforms in her Wolf form, while all others, the rest are in the battle positions, they are caught unawares, generally because in the Magic of the East, the flapping or shadows of Dragons are not easily to be distinguished, everything is so dissimilar in the far lands, than it is in theirs, for now, it is taken for their advantage. Sam and Tauriel, who swore not to tell the Secret of Feanor, regarding dimensional portals and horrific threats, cast a glance at each other, worried and verily concerned. Let people think it isn’t this place where everything is feasible, if human beings ever find out such secrets, there will be no Life and Death would lose all of its veil. Reducing everything to the meaningless inconsistency that leads to the chaotic universe which would be caused by the tumultuous chaos from which the Life would never heal or recuperate.

Ending in the cataclysmic prosperity, for no matter how much you are brawling to know, you never will. Such is the Veil of Living. Why? For when people lose the great fears, and they remember their past lives, recall their souls and recollect the experiences, the world as it is, is ceasing to be of any meanings. So, it is crucial to stay avoidable for mortals and immortals never truly figure out how it is like for real. Jon at that very second brings up the enormous enthralling shield around himself and his people, forcing the Targaryens out, with all of their winged powers, leaving them in the most obvious shock. He has got that power of shielding the outer realm.

- Damn! There are no Targaryens who can do that! – Only one did have that potential and don’t you recognize him, he made sure not to see him as he is, but now all the veils are down – Rhaenys answers to Aemond while Rhaegar in astonishment just as North people are, utters. – Aegon the Conqueror! – specifically Roose is smirking, just seeing pure magnificence of Jon’s powers, he can easily protect the Wall, call upon in great need and yet, defend the North. He became the World Power of Gods. There is no chance for Dragons or their Dragon Lords and Ladies breach it ever, which put them in the complicated situation that was prompting for the negotiations, which Rhaenys started. – You once were one of us. Jon Snow.

- I still am, Dragon Lady. – So, you did remember, you told to your people of Wolves?

- They know, they always did, the hearts know when the Life veils everything else, and let me tell you something. I do not negotiate with anyone from the position of Power and I do have Power and so, either let us go, or it will be the beautiful battle to sing about. – Why are you doing this? Give us at least something, you have taken everything.

- WHAT DID I GAIN?! Trust me, the more powerful I am to become, the more hate and scorn I am to obtain, not from my people, not from – hopelessly he gazes at each face and then outright ends up on Sam – friends, but I know I will be scorned and despised – he looks back at Rhaenys – for that is the burden of Cross. And the least you, who lusts after my Dame, is going to tell me what kind of life I am going to live. – You have changed.

- No, the boy in me is still present, the Idiot lives, but I have become a man, dear Dragon Lady, while you stayed the same in your opulent thinking that only your way is the right one. I choose my left side and proclaim, on this day. YOU SHALL NOT PASS! I can’t bring the Wall whenever I think of, it requires the strongest Will of Man which I do not possess. For every used up energy, we must at first restore to the full health, as it should be. For what you are in need, or requiring, it is needful and necessary to see the truth of all truths. I accept. I am a Man, but I am Elf, and if I can’t do it by self, I am becoming the Wall you shall not ever pass through. Not now, not today and not tomorrow. NEVER! – she gazes at Rhaegar who is unwilling, but the instinct for survival always wins. Aemond in jeering is watching how Rhaegar is entering like the Dreamer, through the forceful and assertive Jon’s shield, which took him by surprise, because almost everyone, except for Bolton, did waver. Wait, why Bolton? What is so different about him? He is the human being too, it doesn’t matter if he is of the Wildling or any trait of Dunedain as is his son, even Aragorn was affected by Sauron, no, the prophecy said that the Boltons will bring to the end of the succeeding Bloodmoon. He attained the insight, and is this is it? The glimpses, for Roose neared him.

- Our people – it resonates all the way through Jon – even your Sam, wife and Elves are not staying untouched by such a fearsome ability if you are not someone as you are. Our Jon Snow… - his heart clenches around him, the Moon is brighter than ever. – But why? You are not my equal, Roose – he chuckles at Jon’s naivety. – There is something what the Old Fool, your Father didn’t tell you about us, Boltons. – What?! – We are another breed of hom*o sapiens.

- I don’t…quite… - There were all various kinds of human species, we came from the last line that is not of hom*o, and here we are. I was brought in like the hybrid of Bolton and Wilding, indoctrinated, but I broke free and returned to my Wildlings, only for my days conclude in tragedies, after which, you father came for me and I am now a full member of the North. The Northman, but the blood never lies. Jon Snow. Look me in my eyes, and you will see that you are the man…who died on the Cross, only to be over and over again, reborn to live in another lie.

It was always you. Roose Bolton, you are the one they titled the…Baptist. You who smeared bodies in blood and alive skin, out of your own hatred for even your own race, you were given the chance for the redemption by staying on my side to the end. Roose deep down knew that it is unlikely for him to finish the Great Journey, or even if the wonder happens, he is renouncing all of his evil for the benefit of the innocent, lives he can’t bring back, but he can do something that is unfathomable and ever to be reachable, for he knows he has to get the Time for Tywin, even Jon is sensing his arrival that will be too late.

Forgive me, Eddard. You were a fool to trust me that I will keep my vow to you. Forgive me…my King, the only man I would ever bow… after your death, it was your kid and my friend…Jaime Lannister. And Roose Bolton, in front of everyone, slits his throat, falling down to die in Blood and Fire, it isn’t the worst way to go, forgive me my son, I know… you feel me so. I came this far, I am thankful. Let Glorfindel take care of you, for it is true, all the life passes by your eyes. All of them returned their sane states thanks to his sacrifice, Brienne together with Jaime dashed to help Roose, among the first, there are Sam, Tauriel who starts to heal him in vain along Lady and Ygritte who howls dismayed, Rhaneyra cries with Syrax for her Godfather’s dying, she feels he is to be gone and Haldir amongst everyone is chanting the healing spells, the MOON upon the high vault of heaven is coming to be fearing BLOOD RED, growing the shade of Death, Targaryens got terrified, not understanding, this isn’t how it is supposed to go, this is their destiny, they weaken Jon and get everybody in and Dragons devour the remains if they resist, but their Great Snakes of soaring heights are withdrawing in jeopardizing bellows.

Jon Snow saw only Blood and he WENT MAD, NOOOOO! Roose wanted for him to see his death. It was for you Jon. Only from the greatest Pain, you draw your GODLIKE Might! You are the Thorn bird that impales itself upon the thorn and God above indeed smiles, seeing your mightiness to the fullest splendor and glow. Tywin saw the sign and with the Lords of Castamere marched faster than ever before. Gleaning such the Blessed Light, the King in the North did, that is even mightier that of Ben Stark, the orbital surge is seen from the Wall too, and Winterfell witnessed alongside their inhabitants the rise of God that is gushing invincible luminosity that repels enemy altogether and Oberyn senses that something is very, but very wrong. Is there something he can do? This godly Light that illuminates the world, what is this, is this Jon Snow’s pain? So, the great sadness is Jon’s ultimate Power of all Weakness out there. Bolton is on the brink of death, Celebrimbor grins in shadows, but here he comes at the front, the back side, the one that leads. Targaryens on their Dragons, caught sight of befalling golden lions. Everything turns into Anarchy!

- Winter has come for you! We are wraiths! Signal our battlecry! For the King, long live the King! Hail the North, we don’t fall to shadow! Lions!
Let the World See and Hear from Heaven to HELL! To the Queens! For our Roots came down from the generations of birthplaces, a cradle of creation. Let the man be reembodied so!
Seven Hells broke loose, forgive me, My Catelyn. Perchance, I was not meant to return to you, the bond that tugs at your heart is going to be…severed, a touch upon your empty womb.

All Elves die from a changed heart, the more human you are, the more possibly humanly you become, the more you unfairly fall to the vice of Ring, Men, perhaps, feel deep, but Elves are destroyed by their emotions. We feel deeper, for the Lord of Light we call upon, Jon Snow! He looks at Tywin’s irises. The Old Lion never broke his pledge, neither Starks, anybody of the North. Riding on their ghost horses, chiming bells turn into deafening of Ice.
*
It changes the human heart. For it is true, lose and cave in, you win and acquire it all in return.
*
For the Wombs of Dragons, nourish in lagoons and nurture between flesh.

Chapter 51: Unto us

Chapter Text

Even the bonded companions, had their separate lives from their Owners, and thus, seeing the phantom people, the spectral apparitions didn’t sit well with them. Nonetheless, they followed to all and every end their Dragon Masters and Mistresses. For those who are Promised are not and the one who brings the Dawn is the Fallen, not ascended as it was thought. Yes, even to the most ordinary, the mysticism about them, never escapes not even to the ones who are of the most common roots just as once was deemed that we all are, and that was the whole truth. Only the dogma made it wrong, to separate the same essence of the blood. In dividing bloods, people are divided on above and down and that was so amiss and wrongful, unjustly undue.

- DRACARYS! – the Dragon fire instantly was turning into the greenish shine before the portals from all around are opened and the Hellfires are burning the Wraiths and golden lions alike which didn’t even touch them, not even one scratch or roar, and before them, golden winged lions melted down while flying or gliding as the soaring and flying heights, very high, crowning the highest zenith of the Lord of Castamere who wouldn’t survive not at all, if it weren’t for sacrifice of the golden beasts brought upon and Tywin Lannister, were caught in the Black Flames, while Jon had to do something, Targaryens are too much powerful with their Dragons, all they need to do is to unleash the Forces of Darkness and that was it, so he shielded what is left of the Tywin and his legions, who pulled in between the Dragon legs and started together with the remaining and resilient ones, to stab into the Dragon’s flesh, forcing them to retreat at that instant, for the counterattack, as it was extinguished and smothered, and so it arose from the ashes and over ashen lands. Jaime Lannister watched awe inspired.

- HIS FATHER! Not all is lost! – Look, Rhaenyra! That is your grandpa! – she grins, watching the man he never was and the reactions of others were in that instant very low even though he came, for the rest of the story was that Roose was…lost to them. From far away, Ramsay grieved the emptiness, not believing, while Glorfindel was there at every step of his, for each made, he knew how it is when you lose your parent, it matters less even if it were of no real blood, it was true to him. No, he still waits that miracle. Please, Eru, if you have done it for me, do it for him too, do not forsake us…the fell ones.

- DRACARYS, REVERSE! Turn over! – Dragons went back, upholding, and then backing down, standing their ground, only to release upon Tywin Lannister and the remains, the most sustained and backed up the darkening flaming that was setting aflame the whole forests, which were falling down on the thundered and desolated ruins of what once were Greenwoods. Tauriel can’t believe it, in just one night, all to be gone, all the southeastern Greenwood! NO!

Haldir, Sam, Brienne and Jaime held her not to go out of Jon’s circle. There is nothing she can do. All what she sees is what Rhaenys promised her. Fire and Blood. There were thousands of Targaryens and each one had his or her Dragon, calling to burn HER FORESTS where she grew up. Her elven cry was heard to the livid skies and back, even toward those who turned their heads, even to them came her wailing of sacrilege which were committing Targaryens, nothing was sacred to them, except for the fact of their survival, this is what pushed them beyond and outside of the possibly redemption, but Life always finds the way.

The animals are withdrawing in groups, and running away, some by flying, the other lives are managing as they could. In the mid of the unholy eradication, all eyes are aimed at those who were the unmeant. And it came to pass, that in the longest of their days when daylight was replaced by the nighttime that was longer than any sundering twilight. The HOWL of all howls were spread out, permeating everyone’s souls. Tauriel, calmed down, the Wolves. The Northmen beside Jon Snow are beholding the Miracle of Eru. Those were Direwolves. The same ones, consisted merely of lone ones. Rickard Stark, whose spirit inhabits that of the Direwolf, brought help, it wasn’t much, but it was the Omen. For Dragons out of a fearing dread did what they had to.

For survival that cost them immeasurably. Lady and Ygritte in that moment of Jon’s distractions, in the howling achievement, scurried through God’s Shield and joined the Pack of Lone Wolves, consisting of those that are never to be understood, leaving them abandoned by the Packs they left alone. For that is the destiny of anyone who means well, who gets nothing in turn, for the exchange, whiles those who deserved nothing are basking in the glories of lavishness and luxury of recognition. Well, this group represented the band of Outcasts, the Outlanders and Outsiders, those who never will be let in and those who are forevermore summoned when we are in need, just to cast them away when they are unnecessary.

Yes, the unfairness hurts like all Seven Hells, but what hurts the most, isn’t from the unknown foreigners, it was always from the living beings you trusted the most in entire life. Ygritte is distinguishing, this must be their Late King, Ned’s father and Lady in all her aesthetic elegance and sophisticated graces, honored the Pact, by snuggling into each Wolf of the dire line, and together, the Direwolves came, falling upon the Dragons like Iced Hail, who burned their resistant furs and reinforced enchanting fields of their own shields. Wraiths couldn’t pass themselves, all alone, but they didn’t need to, due to Lone Wolves who led their ways, through all the gruesome horrors, wrestling struggles and unimaginable, macabre throes which are outside of any imagination. By their Leaps of Faith, they broke through the thick resistance of both Dragons and Targaryens who are in soiled disbeliefs watching that the North’s winter, brought even them along the way and the North’s Star was guiding their noble paws.

Rickard Stark impales his sharp fangs upon the Dragon and its respective flesh and blood, the bones broke under the forced power, the bodies were to fall and the downfall of the saddest notes of the broken violin, imbues flaws. No chance for surviving this, howsoever, Targaryens decided, if they fall back now, they never can look up in the face of anyone, especially their Dragon Queen, so, their Wills of Dark Fires, chose to stay and confront the terrors of the day’s longest of the long nights.

The fake Bloodmoon was heralding that the Direwolves are drawing back. Ygritte compelled an innumerous array of the Targaryen kind to stand down, for her beastly appearance and the shadowed presence was unmistaken, and she bloodily howled and snarled, gashing and biting throughout the bloody battlefield, soaked in blood tears, remained only those who were the most resistant. Lady returns to Jon and Roose’s side, out of nowhere, something impelled her to do so and with her, the only Lannister that left and who is passing away along with those who kept their promises, Tywin Lannister came to them. To his…cursed Highlanders for whom the fleeting joyfulness was short lived, for one of the best and oldest of theirs, is…gone. Roose Bolton. Making the room for one of the greatest Giants and Titans of their time, Tywin, gives a glance at his mourning Jaime who suffered beyond of imagining. Upon Tauriel’s knees, he rested, so pale and unmoving. Tywin being Tywin, only said whilst Jon’s shield is receding, it was being vanishing until it is no more.

- You know…I hated you more than Starks, you Boltons, are one rough people, made of the finest and crudest material. This shall not be your fate – it be so…the color was returning to Roose’s cheeks and as the harbinger that decreed, Tywin Lannister as the Last, had one more time to address his son while all Seven Hells are breaking complete loose, taming the odds against, and gentling the ways, whiles Sam helps Roose. – I never knew I would say it, but now I do. You are a man. Jaime. You are… a man like the one I never could do. For I got the children whom I deserved. It was never the matter are you deserving me, but, if I am enough worthy to be your…father. Tell, them both...I love. I am a bad Dad.

Forgiveness was in Jaime’s blood, there was no need to take his Sire who fathered him in his arms, cradling him, he showed him Rhaenyra…Targaryen Lannister and amidst the goriest day of all days, for the nights of all nightfalls were glad, Tywin started to cry. He spurned and disdained, merely for him to at first sight, fall in love with Jaime’s third child. Syrax pops up! This was his..., he was…her grandpa. His chest swells in pride all the while Jon assists Sam to help Roose to get up, eager to join a fight. He couldn’t keep Shield any longer. Sam, Jon and Roose, share jointed understanding, by the manly affections, a broken violin sang the most sorrowful ballad till Tauriel’s burning homeland got to be restored by no one beside The Will of Nature!
Ramsay Bolton and Glorfindel…laughed. That Old f*cker is alive!
By then Lone Wolves are leaving battlegrounds! Wraiths and Lions were no longer.

For there is a fine Dragon, and the dreadful upon the most dreadful, Dragons of Dragons, but only one is the Black Dread. Balerion, the one who still is sleeping calmly in his slumber, undisturbed by the world which he can burn down with just one blazing flame of Hellfire for which he doesn’t require any gateway to master or invoke, just as Vhagar, Queen’s Dragon, Caraxes of Dark Angel, Prince of Dragons or One who is never to be mounted upon.
*
The only who has no rider, to be summoned by Blood Queen, who is Visenya Targaryen, and a man who hardly showed evoking tears, grieves no more.
*
The Lord of Light, the Bringer of Dawn and The Promised of Gifts,
The Fallen Angel in the darkness, into the shadowlands.
Of all,
Will there ever be such a likeness at all?
*
You have what we give you, for anything else,
Take yourself.
*
With the Consecrated Shield, went along the blissful brigthness, the first light of the gleaming Morn by the War Overlords.
*
I grow up, watching your back, Father, now everyone is watching mine, I have come for the Serpent of Eden and Great Vipers of West.

Chapter 52: Warrior Ladies, the Woman of War

Chapter Text

The extra dimensional portals of Hellfires were the gateways which were used by Caraxes as well, for some time, until in the moment of most survival urge, it was unnecessary, just like all of their razor claws and hollering bellows, for Direwolves, just as they can heal, they poison too and it did spread, and the Dragon flames of theirs couldn’t be unbound. So, the Targaryens that yet are not withdrawn, but they withhold and withstand, never backing down, let their Dragons fly away, while Rhaegar, Rhaenys and Aemond stayed with the remaining forces which are colliding into the North Knights and Dames. Staring down at each other foremost before all went to all Seven Hells, primary and real. The groves of changes of day and night, the shift is rising and imposing by every turn, towered abysmally when Aemond and Rhaegar by their primal urges, attacked Jon, two on one, and Brienne confronts her tormentor, one of the Olds, Rhaenys who shall very much show her right here and now, what it means to belong into Targaryen bloodline.

- You will learn what consists of resisting our charm and might! – Oh, I learned a long time ago, for the likes of you are nothing but the mere stain on my conscious mind, Rhaenys Targaryen, the Hand of the Queen. The Dragon Lady you shall be no longer, for I am going to cut your wings you have been flying all this time – Rhaenys in the seething rage, clashed upon Brienne, two warrior women, in their war cries, had collided in hate, sword upon sword, Brienne is using even one of her smaller daggers, and Rhaenys is supported by her chakram, one of the elven weapons, mistakenly thought it is only destined for the Originals, except for Dragon Targaryens are handling them too, so it was grueling and tedious to watch that Brienne was no match for the Elder and highly versed champion as was Rhaenys, she deflected and attacked, but her every strike was blocked and matched, there was no way to get nearer to the groundbreaking point and Brienne, in all her horrifying trepidations, found herself on the black soil that is unique for the Eastern lands mainly, for it wasn’t the yellow earth underneath, the whole grounds are covered in the mired blackness.

Rhaenys intends to stomp on her but Brienne stops her boot in the air, woman above pushes, Brienne backs her off, by shoving off of self just by sheer despair, a lady falls on her Dragon back, and Brienne is onto her, strangling the Dragon woman.

She won’t allow anyone to humiliate her, she didn’t get this far and she wasn’t surviving the tormenting travails just for someone to reveal to her that she is bested and the only thing she can do is to fight for the bare life, with the bare hands that are chiseled to protect and defend, not slay or torture like she had at this point of her life, very now, there is no path for her being, her low self, to beat her, just because Rhaenys sheathed her weapons, returned back, thinking, Brienne is defeated and hers, she underestimated and Brienne is turning tides.

Jaime sent Rhaenyra then, in the middle of battle fronts, to stop Brienne, for he had just this minute with his father and unlike other Dads, Jaime didn’t slow his daughter down, he believed in her strength and inner power, Syrax was faster. Shouting at Brienne whose raw force proved to be all she required, for Rhaenys was getting suffocated to the death, her eyes are bulging out, Brienne is straddling her, pressing more of the pressure, not giving her a chance to ever take another breath, if this is how you become a killer. LET IT BE, elatedly with a thrill. Pleased to finally see this WITCH DIES! She deserves it so. Finally free from you. Rhaenys begged her with bloodshot eyes, not to do it. To spare her! Please, you are going to taint yourself with myself. Brienne!

- You are a pure woman! Don’t do it! She is not worth of your honor! – Syrax yelled, Rhaenyra joined in. – We implore you. You are the Dame of the North! Not the butcher! This isn’t the way! – LET GO OF ME! IF I DON’T DO IT NOW! I am just giving to her what she is her due. She is going to evermore hunt me, I am in this way getting rid of her! Once and for all! – Rhaenys’s legs are twitching and convoluting, squirms.

Rhaenyra sprang upon maddened Brienne, losing her morality, trying to take her off while Rhaenys is still among the living. Little Syrax bites her hand.

- Don’t. Just envision what is going to happen if you do it! Don’t give in! – she is too much focused, nothing hurts her or gets to her, but this will. - Revenge of Blood and Fire, if not for us, then…for me! PLEASE, I entreat you, Brienne of Tarth! – surprisingly, this worked, Brienne deems less of herself, save doing everything for others, she relaxed her unfathomably grip, today she, probably, learns the grandest of all lessons, it is not when to deliver death, but show grace. She is a compassionate woman, do not let her lose it because of one Dragon Witch!

For this was all what she pleaded, and with the burst from a surge of bewitched energy, casting away, all three of them, Dame protects, guarding their Little silver Lady, filled with starry moonlight, the Princess of the Dragon kind with her baby Dragon.

Grasping her Iron Sword that proves to resist Valyrian Steel, opposing the Dragon Witch in valor and fierceness like never she even knew that is possessed by the human woman.

All what she wished for herself was to be just like the First of the Firsts, the primordial Shieldmaiden, Eowyn, who proved her worth as one of the MAN, so she halts another powerful strike and this time she gets up, holding her ground. She won’t be denied. She won’t be won, she won’t suffer any f*cking more!

Jaime had that talk with his father (will be shown), the last one and the rest is history, vanishing, because when he rushes to aid Brienne, his whole family, everyone is baffled in their dancing postures, without faltering, something is awakened inside her, it was awakening, brimming inwardly, calling her, her ancient and long forgotten POWER OF ICE! Rhaenys draws on, all of her fire potentials and the leverage of potency, utilizing and wielding with the exact precision and precise exactness, just to see how in Brienne is upheaved something that is personally human!

ICE AGAINST FIRE is the Song and melody of Angels, the Music of Ainur.

Bursting it with the almighty brilliance and radiant illumination. Rhaneys is fainted, collected by one of her comrades, didn’t fall anew, Rhaegar’s powers are totally subdued, abound, temporarily just like Dragon flames and black fires by DIRE. Brienne stands on battle lines, undefeated, holds her full being tall. Surpassing whoever overshadowed, just to pass out in Jaime’s hands who took her away with Rhaenyra and Syrax in tow. They had to retreat. This place is becoming gaping Hell’s pit! Let Jon finish it with the remnants of the North people who are never reduced, not a single life is lost, there is still about 300 of them, it’s a wondrous wonder, the miraculous bliss.

God was great. Looks upon them, doesn’t stare down on anyone, ever, he believed more than somebody in themselves. It is a fair feeling when it is surmised and amounted. All the time, backing those who fared less and had even nothing to give but the world of love for which the Life, it seemed, wasn’t any longer or to any further extent interested to amuse the masses who trusted that the Good triumphs over Evil. Only now, they are affronted by the gloom and truest of the true truths, and that is just one, the Power corrupts, the Ultimate, is perverting the kindest of hearts, for it is easy when you are on the highlight, but once you remain to be made into groveling, then the Life ceases to be simple, for the full mouth speaks, hungry stays quiet.
In his enshrouded abode, the ambient surroundings, urged Celebrimbor to bring about one decision that is going to shake the very founded foundations of both Elven and Human realms, everything else will be issued for what he unbridled, due to witnessing that Bloodmoon of fakeness is passing away as it was never be, giving rise to the 4th if not even the Last of its kind, for he did release it, now, he shall trigger Final Act. Let my beauties, bring all truths, Bloodmoon that is ever survived. Not even Bolton won’t be of use. Glor and Ramsay sense change, the air turned icy during approaching spring.
*
Harnessing truthful oneself, you should fear God, renewed and regenerated.

Chapter 53: Downfal and the Lost element

Chapter Text

More human than human, tarnished in blood is the environmental habitation, soaked together with Ygritte and Lady who fought like all Infernos out there, for this isn’t their blood, it is of Targaryens whom they had to slaughter by stifling and mauling, something what was drawn out from Lady, what she never reckoned to be living inside her. Orcs loved to say that the lands are running with blood, because for Ygritte, all she needs is her crude power of War Great Hound of Valinor, depending on the basic, most primal instincts, while Lady cultivated elegant intuition and the accurate timing for everything she did. With Ygritte, both wolf ladies were unstoppable and unrestrained, the forces to be reckoned with.

These Wolves are the ones which decided the Time of future and history, for all prehistoric records are saying and informing, that this is how it always was. Dragons are impossible to prevent, but Wolves don’t feel when something is greater than them, for them, there is no obstacle, only tenacious persistence to succeed against all odds of theirs. Rhaenys still feels fingertips on her neck, which are staying pale reminders of nearly losing her life to the most powerful human woman among all the great, including Arya Stark. It was Brienne’s present, having her almost garroted, but she wouldn’t be Dragon if she ever gives up. For now, let them take her for recuperation, till then both Tauriel and Haldir are spraying arrows, by rapidly prompted agility.

Sam was handing poisonous tips when the arrows are lacking or being spent, they were in need for more archers! Lastly, at least, 50 of them, joined in the Elves, making the most out of whatever came into their hands. Both were in high surprise watching the accuracy of every arrow that lands and hits its target. Who were they? Whose squad is this? Merely just from the darkly and deeply engulfed darkness, to come out none other than the leader of this group of ill – famed white flags.

- You Elves think that you are the only ones who manipulate the bows and arrows? – it was Roose Bolton, Haldir and Tauriel were even more glad, than ever happier, because he is perfectly renewed, Sam is so happy in viewing his face, staring straightened at him, Roose patted him, putting a gloved hand upon Sam’s shoulder.

- Bring me my crossbow too, it should be somewhere and let us chase away these mother f*ckers, they stayed for far too long, let them be returned and delivered to their Dragons and the likes of theirs too! – the Bolton army or what remained of it, fired at the remaining idiots of Targaryens, but when Roose used at first his crossbow and then, his own bow and arrow, it was obvious that the Boltons are truly of the dissimilar kind of people, for they were firing just like Elves, matching hits and rivaling their skills. Tauriel and Haldir remained awed.

- I am merry you are with us, human, after a small performance you gave us – Haldir provoked, biting a bit. – And to miss your ass? Not a chance! – Tauriel giggled, not allowing for a single Targaryen to pass their rims. You shall go no further! Not on her Watch!

This woman would be the spectacular Sister of Night’s Watch, her impeccable aim was something to be honored so and proud of. Wonderment was all hers. At last, Ygritte and Lady returned totally to their ranks. It was getting over, they are finishing what was left, for the Bloodmoon beckoned that it is fading away and the diamond nights that are whitening the East, as it was that daybreak is coming back by a pure, pristine clear and shining daytime.

- Archers! – Bolton commands. – Direct right! – everyone in the synchronized and trained motions are turning and setting loose the coated poisoned tips in simmering, coated venom that isn’t killing Targaryens, yet are slowing them down. – Give the time for our King, we must buy it by force if it is needful! – the way he is speaking, is demanding nothing but the fiercest and deadliest authority in every way, something what Ramsay can only dream about. He is him, but Roose was the next level that is unlikely for a son to reach it at all. Meantime, the predestined talk between the son and father was taking place.

- Jaime, I know you have no time, even when I have it more than I planned.

- Father, I had to send her to Brienne, I must…but before – he takes out the elven medicine that he is bringing to his sick children of blood and breathing disorder.

- It is from Gondolin, the cure for my children.

- How did you get it?!

- I was lucky with the Elf friend.

- You definitely are more luck, son, than you should be, I prefer when you depend on yourself and your own capabilities. – And yet, I am more dependable for your liking.

- And what was ever to my liking? – Arya Stark? – Ah, she is never to be mine, forbidden for me, belongs to another, however, you are my blood and this is why I have to say this to you, something you do not want to hear.

- Please, father, just take it and…bring it to…

- You are going to do it yourself – the Wraith’s hand is pushing it aside, back into Jaime’s pocket, leaving him bewildered. – This is your duty for my grandchildren, the start of illness was long before they were born, it is how it was diagnosed, I committed evil deeds from which I can’t ever be cleansed and it spread upon our progeny, for remember, Jaime Lannister, you won’t be the one who suffers your sins, it will be always your offspring. And with Baratheon medicine of healing antlers, it sustained their long and qualitative lives, but that is not living, my child. Until this Elf remedy reaches them, you will grow into something even more powerful than before. I feel it.

- But, Dad! I don’t know even if I am going to survive to the end – for these words, Tywin turns seething anger toward his moronic son. – YOU ARE LION! YOU ARE LANNISTER! You, not to survive!? What kind of sh*t you are spurting from your mouth!? I do not want even to listen to such…weakness of yours. So, when are you going to stop being weak, so endlessly emotional and prone to be blackmailed by the same?! You are a man like I never was. Do no throw it to winds by your lack of faith in yourself.

- But, Dad – Jaime starts crying, something what Tywin detested when it was shown, but before him, he allowed – it is so f*cking hard, don’t you see? – All I see is my boy who yet needs to understand his worth. For me, it is a game over, I was mistaken. sh*t happens, you know how it goes, but you my children – he grabs Jaime with all the force of his untapped potential and yet, latent potentials that are waiting to be unsealed – King needs you! Jaime. For Power of Ring can’t be undone but there is someone who can!

It was him! He shall be the integral figure in Jon’s life and he must stay by his side, regardless what occurs and in spite of all, change a Life of one soul.

- But that is, in the end, just one heart we share. – And one heart, means the whole world. Jaime. One life, one realm. Forgive him. He is still just a boy. When he is in the most weakened shape, you shall be his VOICE to guide him! There are forces which even I can’t keep at bay for long, but I know one thing. One lion, be of gold or red, makes a difference, and, I see two lions! Lioness, if you want me to be far more accurate, son.

Until the Elf medicine reaches, it will travel long and if something happens to him, it will be brought back with him, to them. For everything else, he had to let go. His father’s final smile was for him, he was gone and from that moment, he picked her up, saving, the rest was staying for Songs, while Jon broke through the strong defense of both Aemond and Rhaegar, he fought the two of them like they were one.
Jon got to be invincible swordsman, only a fool would fight him one on one or even two, it is why Ramsay Bolton never dared to challenge him in the open, the one who is destined to fall to One Ring, just because of his humanity. Unfairness of the world was thus complete.

For whatever else is out there that lurks and with which they are going to come into conflict, it is yet to be seen. He pushed with both legs, making the half star in the air, first Aemond, then Rhaegar’s move is stopped, only to give it back to Rhaegar and Aemond anew. Both Targaryens danced and swirled around Jon Snow, there was no chance. No opening, no alternative, remained without choices. If they make the inch, he is seven steps ahead. You can’t beat Jon Snow with the Sword.

He honed his skills since he was a toddler, it was the training like every breath depended on it, and while they were flying, he was knowing only the way of the Sword. Falling back with the reminding residuals of once the crushing and tremendous greatness, all what stays are remainders, which would be rounded up and recovered. The dream was over, the two days had passed, and finally, the Moon becomes white alike snow. It has ended, until next time. Now, the wounded will be healed by Lady, as much as it was practical, for she can’t over and over anon to heal the same injuries, they require time to recover properly, with patience, the lives weren’t lost to them, something for which mainly Jon feels speechless, nevertheless, Pack carries on the Great Journey.

Incessant dreams of Jon’s Pack, the King’s people, the Men of the King. Hail to the King, Long live the King! Shower sprinkles and pour in the beliefs!
All Wills and Snow is infused in, under wan Moonless night, we drew back. We survived. We lived. We endured, and we are moving on. Watch us All!

Kingdom of Raining Tears where white winds sway wildflowers, when someone acknowledges what is one’s and acceded, taken like one of their own.
And the remains of the fallen will either wane or Mother Nature shall revive to its awaiting bosom, receiving and welcoming. Such was fate of fell ones.

*
Meine Mutter sagte mir

Eines Tages würde ich kaufen

Galeeren mit guten

Rudern Zu fernen

Küsten segeln (Segle fort mit den Wikingern)
Aufrecht im Bug stehend

Noble Barken steuere ich

Stabiler Kurs auf die Häfen

Viele Feindmänner fällen

Viele Feindmänner fällen

The Fell of Blood and Fire never let their bodies be claimed in cold blood if not manageable to retrieve, so, their magic does everything in their stead, in place of Fall.

Looming Chronicles of the New Inception, assail at the Heart of the Elven’s Imperium and elvish kingdoms, bearing our resemblance.
*
So, prepare your nude asses, in any way, you can’t shield yourselves from our inhuman lust, even so!
*
Hand over your knowledge of yore, Grand Maesters.
Deep Waters, I exist.

Chapter 54: True Expanses for Great Prince of Darkness

Chapter Text

The Great sadness devours the hunger. So that Great Angels, the celestial Princes of God’s army can’t give you all. You submit, bestowed you are, you do not, you are tortured and slain. That was simply and lightly so. We were already outstanding even when we are mere, normal people. Some experiences only elevate what we call the towering ascending, hence, intensifying the wholehearted experience of the Lost Son of the Dark Goddess who incarnated him in diverse names, variations of voices, but imparts one image. Lucifer. Bearer of Light, making him Lord of Light to whom we pray contrary to the Bringer of Gifts, the real, truthful Devil in disguise of heavenly kingdoms. This is why Lyanna and Celegorm with Huan are seeking, getting closer toward their son.

Devoted Huan is taking both even deeper in, the eldest of strong breeds, although Glorfindel couldn’t have it, not even the companion with no wings, because it would uncloak his faithful presence. Still, Dragons marched in, thanks to the gift of Annatar, for no Dragon ever went that far and bore the Magic of the Far East…until now. And it altered the faces of all kingdoms, be them on the Earth, or up above, in the Heavens of 7. Nevertheless, no more horses for our Fellowship of Jon Snow, those are lost for good, were good companions, irreplaceable.

Honoring all their betrayed lives, particularly of Roose and Jaime who idolized dearly their beloveds. Still, it is interesting how only Ygritte and Lady were of the coat, although in Robb’s company, were various of sorts, unlike Jon’s that is much more colorful. Howsoever, the course of Life keeps up and speeds on. Some of the injured are cast over wolfbacks of Ygritte and Lady, until they are completely revitalized by patience. Patiently, this time they are doing the right thing, not rushing into madness that brought them barely out of the Elf capture. For such was the captivity that enslaves everybody who are dreading the thralldom over the death or torture. Those are Northern.

- Hey, Sam, can you bring us some medical ointment, from your bags you were given!?

- Of course, of course! Just come and take it yourselves. There is no need to ask for it! Just come and get what you are requiring, I am just the Watcher over it all!

- Hey, thanks, I have this itching wound, I don’t know why it started to itch at all?! – That is because it is healing. – Really?! – Yeah, you might be hopeful, for it is always the first good sign that you are doing it well!

- Oh, thank you! How do you know?! You helped me a lot, mate! – Well, there are some pages bound together and we name it a book. I read lots of them.

- You are so smart! For a cook, of course! – facepalm, no salvation for this man, anyway, he knows to strike a chord. – By the way, why are you avoiding our King? Your best friend? You two are like brothers and Godfathers to one another. Inseparable! You two all the time share this unique bromance with each other. – What?! I mean, I do not evade him, I just not near him! That is the difference! The distinctive one.

- So, you are eluding him. Why? Why do you run?! – I do not…you know what…here, I do not have anything at all to explain to you, just feel better, that is going to make you rather healthier. And it is not like he will notice. He has other issues on his mind. I am the one who just is here for him, to save his human soul. – Wow, up to healthier, you were a sage, and then you spouted the rows of idiotism which is unlike you! Are you all right?! What are you sh*tting about?! Sam?! – You are not making it easier for me. Just Go!

He has no one to answer to, except TO himself. At least, until the duty calls. Jon is now ascended. He remains his cook and…librarian, it is all there is to it. Why would he bother with some lowborn like him? He got used to it. He knew it will come to this, that his days as equals, at least, in the human relationships will cease to exist and it will be substituted with something grander and there is no place for the regular, mortal human beings in his living!

- Like he would as Hell catch sight of me evermore. He is too high and great. And yes, I am speaking to myself, when no one pays attention, because the impression is made on me, severely. I mean…he is Emperor’s grandson, for love of God! I knew that Jon is special, at all times, I was telling to myself, you are his friend, but this is something just else, more, different. What part of his life do I play now? - All of it, my Sam.

What the?! Passing unnoticed all the while people are immersed in their moments, he was captured, swept away and thrown over the sturdy shoulder, albeit like the monkey that person leapt and climbed the trees. Who the f*ck?! When he found his voice out of shock, he was unexpectedly gagged by a huge hand that covered his mouth tightly, it was a hold that is so unfamiliar. No one holds that strong, such raw strength, of course, it is him. Go figure. Afterward, when he is muffled thoroughly by the wider, broad Dragon arms and placed on a bigger, stable bough which is laden by sprouting spring’s offerings, he was released. It looked like, even appeared they will be in need to catch up to their…folk, it is not like they missed they are missing, King.

- It isn’t light to subdue you. Sam. You are a big man! – You mean, fat? – No! All that extra you is just like a shield around you, it is how I see it.

It wasn’t so cold anymore. It appeared that the Grey World is gaining all colors, but at any time, the Winter wishes to remind you, it still has its teeth to show off. Taming the flows of the nature and breaking the wheels which were never supposed to be there, not the Walls in between that are assumed as if no hope exists. But the Winter starts to bloom and it was proclaiming that the Long Winter is coming to its end, the Endless awaits if they fail selves!

- Well, how did we end up here? To this point… - You are forgetting that I am Elf of Targaryen race, I can do everything what they do, only better! – Don’t sound so smug, you know what I am questioning you. My jaw and mouth are sore! – You are not hurting everywhere, I haven’t harmed you, still you act like I had that intention, soon the sensation will pass. – Jon, I want to be left alone. I want…to ponder, that is all, and don’t do this! Ever again! – Jon chuckles.

- You desire to pity yourself? That won’t do. Ponder or brooding equals depression. – Since when?! Since when you are the smart one amongst the two of us?! – Since when you are schooling me! My father, Ned, had Ben and I have you, you honestly think that King would be able to speak like my father was conducting? You neither ask self how he acquired intellect? Most Kings are stupid of ours. They need Maesters, Grand or High, to read them their letters, some don’t even know to write! I would ten thousand times choose you over any riches or power.

- You are choosing knowledge. – I am naïve, Sam. Idiot. I know nothing because I chose to be a fool. Not stupid. My intelligence doesn’t end by you giving me what paper I must sign and that is it. Whether you believe it or not. My duty doesn’t even conclude when I decapitate or order someone to be hanged. – You rarely do so. You do it yourself. The only time when you request or demand the aid is…well, there are too many of which you covet to cleanse by death. – Because death is good to humans, not Elves. We are stuck, no reward, no redemption, no punishment, we re-embody or we are through others born or as the newborn elven children.

- Don’t start it, spare me.

Jon grows aggrieved and aggravated, all at the same time, thanks to this man to his front, and all what he sees is his, well, self – pity. Now, he told him.

- I knew about you, in all present lives and the past, and in between, the golden middle. I never touched you. Never even Sansa, but I could. Sam. – What?! – I am Elf. We sleep even with our own blood. What are a few kilos, here and there, doesn’t stop us or prevent from taking you. At all. – Wait… Haldir was teasing you…- I am what he says, I just pretend well. I always does. I have a good teacher – Sam is...flabbergasted.

Just how much, Jon truly suppresses his full nature?! He has the large appetite, and even the higher mastering of his respective control he had never lost! He wonders, is being human so hard for Jon then? Through all these struggles, unreachable difficulties and unattainable hardships. He can’t even...start to define his hunger for the lust. He doesn’t want to ever cause pain to anyone, the least to his wee Ygritte, but he is in high need of unruly relief. Now. Wait a second. The two of them…are alone. He was well…anytime, alone with him and he never felt this tension. Why did he? Is that so? Not even one Elf does something out of hubris, then he finishes his conclusions, he brought him here where it is intimate, private and cloaked from anyone to see.

- Or hear. I read you, I taught you, shields up. It pains me that you are like this. I will not impregnate. I know what I am doing. – Masturbation!?!
*
No one touches Sam, except for me… Thus, Extravagance of the Elf lives a life, we will fill you, let us, live it through, to the end of us or last of games.
*
Elf hungers for lust, feel us, impress us during our elvish reign. The flapping, broadened wings, clawed shadows overtake, announcing the Return of the Dragon Age, the Epoch of Targaryens along the roaring bellow. Oh My King. We are changing hearts, woo and win you.

Dancing away…

Chapter 55: Wisps

Chapter Text

Mother Arda was in love with her children, and she suffered a lot, feared even more for what they are doing to each other, it is far better she doesn’t exist and too much good becomes the legions of shadows. Time was ripe for the intercourse, the cycles of every Elf that he or she has to either through mates or someone else, far convenient to mate or bed, anywise you see it. Endearing yourself to something that wasn’t his first time, already did it with Robb. But, speaking of Ned, he mentions him, but avoids the one who conceived him, it was by him that he got all the way down, this far and the way he was. The Elf in every corner and body of his mind, it isn’t stamped on him, but that was his legacy. Jon had a problem which Sam must solve right now.

- Don’t be frightened of me. We have to be in someone to relieve. If I do it to Ygritte, in the middle of process she can become wolf who may devour me whole. Yes…I am afraid of her, sometimes – both of them snickered, regarding the odd situation.

- She is that powerful? Right? For a fantastical living being?

- You saw that her strength bears no measure. But, do not digress, I want you. You are human male. You are the best choice. You can live it through, just like Robb with no consequences in marking, bonding to all self and mind, or any of immortalization.

- I am not keen on you putting something inward me, neither me to feel you like this…Jon…or is it Aegon?

- Whatever you like.

- You see, you are truly becoming one of them.

- I am human. Mortal, perhaps, extended longevity, but that is all. Nobody knows for how long.

- That is the problem. You have all our virtues, all their strengths, and no weakness except for your naivety and those naïve wits of yours. It is like a sacrament to your kind. – Sam, your kind is mine too – both couldn’t resist it and they laughed out loud, oh, it is never boring. – Just let me take you and own, no claim I will have over you, and I love you, Sam, just the way you are. I would never hurt you, just love you. I saved your life, lost my arm that is due to my lineage, regenerated back, but...what do I have to do to prove it to you. My love and loyalty to you. – Oh spare me, Jon Snow. Aegon the Conqueror, what else? The Prince of godless forbidden lands?

It was prohibited to speak in this manner to someone who is of the elven, but to Jon…it is so exhilarating and amusing, it is this why…the Elves are like flies on the good, and the finest blood there is.

Bursting into the healthy laughter, both of them. Sam never feared that BIG BAD WOLF image of himself he portrayed or showered upon the enemy. Bending their wills to his, it was never his creed, nor he will ever start with it, tame and break. Ever!

- And you abducted me, so the answer is NO! My answer shall always be NO to you. You are my all too when it comes falling apart and the world that fails us, but this time…you should do it all by yourself, I will…demonstrate you how.

- I didn’t abduct you. You are imagining and making up your position, and twisting things. You don’t…understand. I am not warped.

- Listen to me, Jon Snow. I know what is happening, it is them…in you. Now, breathe and let me know the real reason you are doing this?

- You are not telling me something. I thought you would come to me by now, so I came for you, myself. My Sam – sigh ensued and he said.

- Our dear Jon. I want you to be aware…that Ghost…was your Grandfather. His lifeblood is diminished. He will stand for some time, but either from his own walloping emotions, for Elves are prone to do that or someone stronger who comes will be the end of him. His will is tied to One Ring because he fathered Son who inseminated the birth of the Dark Lord or Lord of the Darkness, the First Elf of Power Rings. And Glorfindel, your Uncle…as you by now are notified, he gained the human heart that beats in the immortal body. They change, you must with them, or you perish the way you were like – if this didn’t rouse something in Jon, nothing would. This is why, Sam was crucial to him and he questions his…worth? The world went to the ends of all.

- My Ghost was…being, all this time…what?!

- Basically…Ygritte is your…Aunt? Because she is also daughter of his, just like Arya who was the twin of her surviving sister, but reincarnated through humanity. The Twin, Jon, Valinor Trees! Of which everyone is so possessive for a reason, territorial and protective to no bounds. Don’t you see? It is One Ring. If he is connected, all the bloodline is. Which means, it always influenced since your birth. It existed a long before it was harnessed for a personal use. No wonder there is a saying, among us, humans, the poison is held in the small vials – Jon got wonder struck and bent in odds.

- And you must find a way to stand up to it, the more human you become, the more Elf in you are bound to fall to it, being Elf is not the dark side, but Ring corrupts what is the best in you. Jon Snow, the least you can do is fight, when the right one shows up to salvage you from yourself, until that day comes, you learn to oppose it. Jon Snow. For you are – Sam looks him in the eyes – an only King in the North we ever deserved. The one we were in need and the one who shall become our Light! – Jon takes Sam into his arms, gentled and humbled, rejoiced and endeared, calming his restless spirit, for those were of the High Spirits, and little lightened wisps were dancing around the two men. Sam returns the strong affection, only for him to get captivated by the small trinkets of the guided souls. Glances back at Jon who eases lust, it isn’t simple to, gulps down, hold out against Elf, to firm your stand when you are in front of such bloomed beauty.

Under the silver, moonless skies, Jon’s beard and all what reminds of the human, dwindles and what remained was one of the purest shapes of the elven beauty. He was mesmerizing and he is very much…mindful that Jon was…seducing him and he was being…wooed. Very much charmed beyond return. Ensnaring him so and Sam…didn’t mind. It was…coming to pass. Their lips were nearing close. Jon was conquering what is his, until the co*ckblocking.

- Hey! You two! What are you doing up there?! And Jon, I had no idea yours is bigger than mine, here, I will show you! – Jaime put his pants down, like from the mother naked. Jon is wallowing in his self-indulgence, for he almost had Sam! f*ck THIS! Sam was more glad, than he ever could admit and not at the same moment to be saved from f*cking Lannister who was next to none, the unexpected savior. You can say whatever you lust for that man, save him and his timing are flawless, this truth forever stays. – What Lion has to measure against Powerhouse!? Look at me! – oh no. Jon turns beastly in a comedic way, unfastening his too, letting his member proudly be tightened upright! Sam facepalmed.

It should be, for Jaime, abnormal, but considering that both are tied together with the sharing heart, Jaime measured it all up. Hm, he had got it, now so!

- Yours is smaller, definitely, yet, thicker! My has slenderness that your lacks! Look, it is agile too, yours is too stiff! – Lannister, you say for my beast that it is lacking?! Is that what you ascertain?! – Sam can’t suffer this much, he sits and listens to…well, idiots. Such was his fate with bare butts and swinging…weapons of manhood. – Yes. LANNISTERS WIN! AHA! YOU WOLVES HAVE IT SMALLER! WE WON! WE!

At this point, you weren’t certain, who has got crazier. Elf – Man or the Golden Lion of Red.
And in regard that there was no one to stop them, he let them, have their ways, except still, he found his route which one to climb down, it was mad of him, but the necessity of the situation makes a hero out of your fearful self, dodging to be ensnared once more. Let the boys have their fun they longed for. He is feeling lucky that he was able to get away, and slowly come back to their own, but alas, he got lost, tracks are well hidden even with no falling snow, again, the luck was on his side and the tiny wisps, which were sent by Feanor himself who has no right to interfere in any life thus far (but God doesn’t have to know), took him back to his people.
*
Yes, their people, took in as theirs and accepted into the North…Jaime and Jon, would already catch up, they are in the mid of flashing it further south.
*
With no one to interrupt, walk in your footsteps out of shadowlands where werewolves are still living, settled by their cousins of shared Valinor bloods.
*
In the alikeness of Holy Spirit and Arts of lovemaking in my power for control. I sounds both strange and warm, as our truth. And the One who wields strength of God, passes it on another.

Glaring into the distance…do not stare down.
In between two worlds, of two kingdoms, we stood proud!
The Promised Necessary Evil.
Jon Snow’s inner confession: I lied. I am not stuck. I am trapped, it is ensnaring me…there is something inside, I want to let it out, fly free!

Chapter 56: Whatever happens, we have assured Heirs of High Queen

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Cersei is waiting with the utmost patience while reading about all strong and powerful women of the Elven world and the human annexed Great and ancient noble Houses. If something she learned while being surrounded by the alien ambience was that she taught herself a lot to wait for her moment, she is not yet with child, marked she is, but no immortality for now she gained, neither it is most attractive to her at these intersections of her life. She was growing to be smarter, the way her father always yearned for her to be, and alas, her greatest mistake propelled her into the greatness her father for all time aspired for his only daughter, his beautiful and haughty child who learns that first you cook and then you serve.

Yes, she even trained herself to cook for Fingolfin, yes, the Great Queen she desired to be, cooks for her principally chosen husband. And the crown didn’t fall from her head, it even managed to inspirit her and rise in the eyes of those who looked down on her position. Being more than proud of herself. For she was their Queen, they call her as such, accepting, but now she never truly means how it sounds, for all what she awaited and looked for, now is less important to her and all her forces she moves toward the North.

She wants to aid it. Due to her reasons for she is obtaining the influence, authority and power. Control and Mastering of the crafts of politics better than most of the men here. Patience, just stay patient, and strike when your Time is ripe.

For the Empress was for eternity far away from her reaches. Never more to compare herself to anyone, she chose her own path, and she was ready for everything what Life throws at her. For she…did this to herself, to her family, House…to him...and what hurts the most…to children, but it is preferable this way.

She won’t be the venom to her babies, the very one she knows…it would kill them. The third she never…had. It was miscarried. She begged God, let it be given life through another, and let it be far more blessed than it would have with them. She was right. And it wasn’t Rhaenyra. It was Tommen Baratheon who already was building his pathway through the House of the Dragon, slowly gives rise to his name, but, unlike plenty of those who coveted him, yes, King and Queen bees, he wasn’t a true Baratheon, he was adopted into the House. Therefore, all the euphoria of the captured one fell into water.

The Sword of the Morning, new exactly what he did when he sent him. Daemon didn’t fall into a trap, he was the one who seized the boy, for the Morning mistakenly thought that Daemon will smell that he isn’t what he claims he is, and he had, but, one more human is at any time welcome. So, the bait wasn’t returned, it is gulped.

- I wonder… does Lord Glorfindel still collect for his affluent harem? Perhaps, if that boy…proves to be my…long lost child…I might send him to Gondolin (south) under the protection of his household of Golden Flower. Well, I will see to it later on, for every Elf affirms the inheriting successions if anything ever happens, for immortality doesn’t secure the Forever Life indeed – she stops even her writing, murmuring to oneself, for she started doing it more often than usually, the toll is taking upon her, for she doesn’t cave in and glares up, to stare herself into one of her innumerable fair mirrors of well’s water stem and glittering fount’s designs.

Well, she was growing old. It was apparent, save her beauty is much profound than it used to be. Each deep or dark line is proof she lived through even the vilest of odds and everyone underestimated her, not giving her sufficiently merits, for it looks, what she craved for, wasn’t what she in fact at all wanted.

Oh, if there would be someone next to her. Someone she could talk to without any…tricks and the feeling where she all the time has to be on her guard. It is tiring her.

She is aware she is not what she was, not even the least. Jaime…forgive me. I was a bad woman, I only used you. I am also aware I would be your death. And once again, what seemed so wrong, proves to be the best for everyone. Ned Stark made sure for her plan to succeed, for her to weave a web in which she was caught by her own vices. In such a way, steering her into the brighter future that appeared so somber and gloomy. Even if older…she feels, the first time, in her all bitter and unfulfilled life, hope.

All her chambers should supply her with satisfied calm and peacefulness, whilst in her was the violent storm raging, but presently, she was the one who is of the quiet mind, if anything, she regained her peace. And one little bird landed to sing to her, the birdsong of Thorns, right on her window’s bottom frame.

Smiles back, honestly gladdened. A gilded window, inlaid in silver, for silver and sky - blue eternally stayed the colors of Elves, was open and she stood up to sprinkle the few grains upon her desk, the woman who was a perfectionist, at this stepping stone, could care less and she rejoiced when the little tweeting flew over her and starts pecking at the delicious morsels.

Cersei laughs heartily. So cute.

Did the small one came to keep her company? Feeling so lonely. Would you be my friend?

I have no one to talk to. It stays unspoken, she watches Life.

- It uncloaks before me in the most grandest ways, its petals. Here, when Winter can’t even touch the Undying Lands. Yet, snow still falls once in a while. Did you know, little birdie…I was…cruel to you – the little tweety chirped and glared up, only to carry on with what is preoccupying her so – little dove. I didn’t mean to. I am sorry. It is my fault. You are innocent. I can’t even ask for forgiveness. I am sorry, my Dove. I am so.

Suddenly, unplanned, the tine one leaps into her mother’s hands and tweets to her as it is filling her in with the newest tidings. Cersei’s eyes are clouded with the unshed tears, she was blinded and fooled. By her own self, she has no one to blame, for she did committed the harm that now hurts stronger than all burning Seven Hells. She kisses the little one, wishing her all the best in life. Thanking her for giving her another chance and telling her.

- Come again, you are always…welcome. Little Dove. And what Father once told me, what makes a King…are not his words, it is the pure heart.

For what makes anyone what we are, is not where we come from or what clothes we wear, it is our conviction to go to the ending when there is no end.

- Enter! – at least they knocked. – Your Grace, the High King requires your presence at a joint dining table. – I am not hungry. I made it for him, I will eat later, no need to bother yourselves with me. I will go into Queen’s kitchen and…prepare something for myself. – King insists, it will grow cold – she smirks, looking back at the Royal Guard. – No, it cannot ever grow cold something that is served cold, that makes the best dish.

She was left alone with a blunt thud, and the little one of hers, did fly away. You never would like to live with us, right, Little Bird? Of course, how could you. Lions are too uncivil and ill – bred for such innocent beauty and high elegance you emanate. Wherever you go, wherever you are, I wish you love, health and luck. Always were. All what is left is the hatred and…oh, the little one comes back to peck her at the cheek and it disappeared as a ghostly wisp of light.

- Oh my… - she touches it, thank you…Sansa… You are the noblest Princess I ever knew, I could only dream that you were my daughter as well.

For out of all them, High Sorceress Yennefer, or the Grand Enchantress Alicent, no one occupied her edgy mind like the Witch Queen of Elves, the Great Galadriel of Lothlorien. Inadvertently, her lightened chambers are dimmed and her fairy mirror is acting strange, like she hears the distant sounds of drums, the blaring and the announcing of something alien.
Standing before it, long, oval and wondrous, it didn’t seem as though there is something in there, when all of a sudden… no, no hands to reach for her or she to step in, it was like she was by now on the other side, a lovely dress of enriched and woven seams was bending and folding with the dancing swirls all around, unrecognizing where she is brought in. But, she did tell apart one single thing which confirms to her where she lives! Home of the Light Realm.
*
Of High Lady Galadriel while on the southeastern side, rises last human Citadel that governs House Martell and on the southwest, annexed Holy Land.

Chapter 57: Novelization

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Those were hers, the Lady’s Gardens, all breeds of flowers and buds which are there, existing and living in the world, was by the verdant, blossoming ivy and interwoven enthralling roses entwined together and there she was, in the mid of the glorified place that everyone calls, the Start of a Dream, yes, famous Water Mirror and the Silverlight pitcher she is using to forevermore fill it whenever it is emptied by the visions and sights of the future, the thing is, there was no sign of Galadriel and Cersei hurried, out of her human curiosity and to take her chances, in seeing first if the Water of Sacred Lightness that lives in her ornamental watery mirror will show her something, but it was…void of any clear spring waters.

Perhaps, she needs to fill it up? Rolling up her sleeves, she took the great jug and finding the nearby spring, without any complaint or the sense that it was heavier than her or that it was exhausting her beyond dreaming, the High Queen was unfaltering, she does with pure joy, but the more she was filling, the more there is nothing. Wait, there must be some hole, she went underneath a firm stem, was examining if there was anything to be assessed, but no, it was perfectly all right, why then, whenever she fills into it, the water doesn’t stay and where does it disappear. The whispering leaves startled her, she turns around. Leaving the magical jug back in its place, watching from the ground and above. Aren’t there any Wood Elves? For all this time, attracted her the most. For they were not of Valinor, they are bred in Middle Earth just like her human race and they are maybe less wiser, but the wilderness in them is what allured so.

- Is anyone there? You may show yourself? I won’t hurt!? – Cersei almost slipped on. – Ouch, wait, I don’t need my shoes – freeing her feet, she boundlessly searched just like when she was a child for a wonder and marvel.

It turned her again into the little girl she…once upon a time, truly has been. The more she walked, the more there was no end, abruptly, the little morsels of sweet and kindness, food and wine would appear, but she knew better, do not drink or eat, or you stay here for all times, even though her stomach grumbles, objects against her stubbornness. She was now going further into the bottomless depths, but no sign of elven children or Elves, she never saw the Silvan progeny, they must be so wonderful to see, but she hears the sounds and refined voices, behind the broadened undergrowth, her astonishing glares are peeping at the dancing of the Elves. THESE WERE THEM!

Oh, look at their small feet of children and a lot of grown – ups were singing and playing instruments of magic and lore. With no fear, stepped boldly, relishing a little party they held, stealing glances at each of fair face, for fairness is in visages that do not see her!
She could touch them, come near, but she is invisible and there is no indication they are sensing her ethereally filled presence. So, it was her, for all these times, she is from somewhere, in her spellbound hiding, hovering over her, watching, but saying nothing at all. Plainly right.

She passes by Elves as if a mere Ghost, viewing that lots of them as she guessed, are either on high crowns of covert trees or in laden branches sitting, living their full lives, to the fullest although mortality can’t even touch their immortal beauty. She came upon one small well, that is delighted in the sweetest spring liquids ever. Can’t suffer hunger nor hold in hollow thirst, she brought a bucket up and with no halt, she drank and drank, and as it goes, the more she did, the more she was feeling satisfied and no hungering or any thirsting dominated her life. At present.

Yes. She was full. Nothing else mattered, neither it was relevant. But, wait, how does she go back? Rustling, she spins all stupefied, dazing her. It was Celeborn! Galadriel’s husband and the First Mate, the Great King of Lothlorien and the former…lover of the Targaryen House of Fountain, the birthname of Swan Prince Ecthelion, just as House of Feanor, thus making House of Golden Flower forever intertwined with Dragons, all was…bound.

- If I knew we are going to have a guest, it would be the proper welcome.

- Your Grace – like she was infused with the self – discipline, her posture and bearing was with no blemish, it has got evident just how much the Queen she is able to be, either High or Great as if she is Galadriel, just when she puts her mind to it. She is then without any rival indeed, giving a light curtsy.

For he is everything, far more than Songs who sung and which didn’t do him any favor or give justice. It was hard not to STARE AT HIM AND NOT BLINK.

He is the silvered Sun of the elven nucleus of all hearts that are beating in the elvish spirits. How such beauties, become so ugly? You never know what is hiding beneath. And just to think, Glorfindel stole Ecthelion from Celeborn in the Realm of Fantasy, hm, so fitting, she finds out even why.

This was obvious that Celeborn is ethereal and unrivaled in his wisdom and powerful, knowledgeable wits, while Glor…well, used his human side to trick Ecthelion into becoming his First Lifelong Partner or what they name the First Mate, not the Consorts or First Ladies, or anything of sorts that is humanly feasible.

And he seemed as a very glad person.
- You are easy to read when you are amazed, that is not the good quality of yours and yes, Glorfindel put me on the stake to burn, together with Feanor he contrived it all, I nearly burned alongside with all my Swan Ships and even people if not for the Destiny… you, I rather figure, know everything about it, it is unnecessary to remind. But what I – like he is singing, that is how he sounded to her, is he doing it on purpose…- do voice is why do you think that Ecthelion is titled Swan? Not because of carvings into his Glimmering Fountains, but because it is…my nickname to him and…that Bastard of the North took him along, oh well, I married my Queen.

What was so funny to her? Well, who would tell, thousands of years passed and he still begrudges against Glorfindel, He is dashing, yet anything alike!

- Your Majesty, I believe I am not here unintended and unknowingly. – My such an endearing wife does whatever she wants, like you can see. And…where is the Bastard now? – Lord Glorfindel? Somewhere collecting prizes for his harem. – Of course he does, he never has enough. If you meet him, I challenge him to put his damn boot in Lothlorien, I will shave off his golden mane! – she stifles the barely controlled laugh. – He makes an impression on people.

- And Lives, but…I won’t speak about the Bastard Barbarian anymore but… - You are the only one who may invoke...like this, without him to appear in front of you even by astral projection, if he dares to be…revealed. – Do not interrupt me, Lady Cersei, I know that much. For Ecthelion’s powers are far reaching when he lures with his elven flute, yet he fell to….

- Like Dreamer of Targaryens too. – Yes, Rhaegar, those two are similar, but there is a difference, they can make music together, but won’t. Too much dominant are both, Alpha Dragons. – Where is Ecthelion’s Dragon? – He paves ways of seminal culture of his, not of the distant or close familial kinship, his Tree’s roots stem from Gondolin, not all Targaryens bring to their House, the mates and spoils, there are other lights also. – And you are not of Noldor, just like your dear Queen? – No. I am Teleri, or Sindar which is Middle Earth name, we are Grey Elves, and, of mainly silver threads.

Therefore, they were sired in a large amount…amounted by kindred Dragons. Elu Thingol, the father of brave Luthien, was their forefather of Sindar culture, through Sire, watched Blessed Luminosity of Valinor Twin Trees.

Celeborn becomes heedful of her extensive knowledge about their infinite cultural heritages and the primordial civilizations which gave way to new ages. For she was a twin sister likewise to her birth brother. He answers to her.
- You demand to know, are we Ancestors of Nandor? No, it all belongs to the ones who were created here and made this their everlasting homes. Lothlorien is…of Silvan Elves – it astounds her even more, looking enamored with the blessings.

- I am sorry, My Lord, I am so open to you. I should bring my natural shields of the thinking…up. – Relax, my girl (she secretly grins), for yes, what Targaryens possess, we as well, only differing in our Dragons, as well as the Star vessels of ours, but I admit they were the First of whom we shared and later… our own technology is carved out, based on their designing, while they have taken after us, all the rest. Everything is varied and quite the same. – Why do you fashion these downright differences between you, why do you design to divide yourselves?

- The same question I may present to you, humans? Why? Because we love to think that our value rests in better blood, connections and wealth. But, as you see. You request just one Bastard who comes from North to shake All what we stood, bled and fought for. Life has no rules. We hide behind our blessings, save it protects us like a bad Lord.

Muffles giggling she weakly holds in. Glorfindel remains Elf in all glory and right, but certainly, for she met him…ruffles everyone’s scales or feathers wherever he goes. It made her enormously proud for being so. For he was both of Man and Elf, just like Jon Snow. Both comprised every inch of flaws, similarly to virtues of both worlds, standing for all ceasing days, to be on their Watch on crossroads, in the way of one, and never belonging to another either. Such was Fate of those who are brought up, raised and mothered to be what they become. Celeborn smiles tenderly, his irises are gazing past her, Cersei is sensing that flashed flow of luminous might. Her spouse vanishes in the thin air, and High Queen finds herself before her Mirror and Galadriel.
*
I feel Pride, have me all prideful, for everything that is thrown at, or placed into, in dreams it was cast upon, but wait just yet, all is not over till...sunset.
*
Lioness has got to pay her debts which lay in wells of spring in where the hearthstones are inhabiting the home’s fireplaces. No one feels cold, or unrest!

Devour and eat…

Chapter 58: Great Angel of all Angels and Lioness of Eve

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Behold all the unreached. Before the Darkness takes you away. Do not, please. For this place held more magic than all fairy circles in which you feel safe and sound. Beware, all is not as it appeared ever at all and in any way. Galadriel was the epitome of everything which the heart of the elven world represented and the downfall of the alien culture and the invading habitations of something that was never theirs to take. Cersei bows to Higher Queen.

- Your Grace…Your Sire… - however, Galadriel reveals her mythical smile for which she became the most renowned of all elven Queens, for perhaps, she is not the Dark Fairy Queen or Fae High Lady, but she is someone who has all the wisdom of the world building in just her little finger, often, she warned, she did even Jon Snow, not to fall to impurity and impulsive heart of his, but alas, that was the Targaryen in all his power and mighty creed. Stark who owned the Dragon Heart.

- Do you see this mirror of mine? You can’t pour something within when your own soul is the void – that voice was unbelievable to describe and any author doesn’t dare to even try, so…I won’t either, for none would do her justice of the Heavenly Skies. For God’s Vault still looks upon all of his wellsprings.

- I beseech you, High Lady of Lightness, for all those who titled you Witch – Queen are merely those who do not comprehend your greatness, thank you for answering my letter, for heeding my low self, I am not deserving of your graces you bestow on me, you are too kind and too good for someone, corrupted as myself! – Cersei falls to her feet, with the crying eyes, she gazes up, for what you can do, when you are watching at Goddess of Light, no shame, but dignity, one Lannister did reclaim. - Once long ago…I sinned. I continued to sin, sought of God to pray for me! – her bare feet remained unspoiled and her pearl tears are washing Galadriel’s toes while the golden mane of the Queen is tickling the calves of the one to whom she bends the knee with no hesitance.

The return of the Time, this is what they all craved for. For the Time can’t be sensed, it is both linear and cyclic, and she was aware that Galadriel holds all the answers. What she never expected was Galadriel’s instant forgiveness, wholly absolving her poor being to the highest fullness by gently taking her up, snuggling into her soft arms and Cersei cried and cried, all what she wanted is to be someone’s love, Jaime never could give her what she looked for, and the heavy sobs were quaking her to the core, but it was purifying her, clarifying the visions before her, for everything is the darkest before the dark of the shadowed lights, which are shaded by the blindness of material world. Wiping her sadness away, she compels Cersei to listen to, by a smile.
- Daughters of Iluvatar, we are together, now, come…and see your true beauty. – No, it is ugly, I know… - Why do you fear what I will show you? – Because I know it is bad, very bad… - hiccups with no disgrace and Galadriel demonstrated the entire tenderness of her elvish being by kissing Cersei on the full lips, it was pervading your loneliness and all the suffering, cleansing it with a simple kiss. – Is this now, better? Hm, is that so? I see it in your glimpsing eyes. Now, do I ever showed to anyone…any evil, whoever comes before me? Seeking my counsel? Only those who are not deserving my advice, I display none for them – Cersei plays with her hands nervously, no trust in self, more than... her Queen.

Even tough, she was Elf, she took her as hers. No regret and no dishonor, for this is how she feels to the bottom of her sinful life, and by gentleness, she is led, at first, she darkened, desiring greatly much to see, only to back down, for it was showing nothing to her foremost, only the sorrow and the burned corpses of badly cooked goals. For not even one… her dream is granted, not any of wish came true, everything collapsed and she remains looked down upon, save Galadriel who had Time to stay patient, forever and ever, waiting for her to glean her mustered inner strength back, fearfully glancing on, before finally seeing a peek at her respective future.

What she saw…made her faint. And in the dreams, Galadriel sent her messages, let her sleep. For the Dreams are speaking to you, do not ever, give up, it is over only when you give upon what is the most that warms your heart and leaves you breathless when there is no desire to fulfill what is emptied like the full cup of life. Noldor is another name for the Tribe of North Elves, the Clan of which no one stayed indifferent. IT was once and still stands as the highest Dynasty of all times, the one that shaped the world. And you know, who they are. Including, whole Gondolin, her elder brother’s underground kingdom of the Lion, Finrod Felagund, then House of Feanor, Fingolfin, Finarfin and there is the well and deep rooted and acceded House of Golden Flower, deeply and darkly, Shadow that became the rainbow Luminescence where all colors are welcomed to garnish the world’s shades of equal distinctions. It was most beautiful to see how it was all branching out, forking altogether!

- What do you wish for? To know for real? My Cersei? – whisperings from old, she hungered to watch the Realm of Fantasy, with no restraint, it was shown to her, in all the splendor, radiance and brilliant rise after the Fall of all downfalls. The path that walked Eowyn, the first human Wardeness of the Elven reign, under their rule and laws, she ascertained her hard surviving course to every woman, child and the elder, to find their own strength from within, an inward eye that must take you to the enlightened Sources of all Dreaming. Meeting even the one who lives as Dream, and taking nothing for granted, bringing only the kindness that lives in the goodness of heartfelt and soulless acts when it is done with no spirit inside.
Godmother of Mab and Lady in the Lake, of Dark Faes and Light Fairies, was…Galadriel. She had her watch how Curufin took Thranduil for the First of Mates, which makes Legolas and Celebrimbor, birth brothers.

- Legolas Greenleaf…let go Jon Snow and his fellowship of the Wolf and Dragon, it will ignite the heaviest wrath that befalls the Woodland kingdom. – He knew that, yes, but you see, I am the Wall that Celebrimbor, my foolish nephew, still dreads to pass. So, do not fear. I protect Legolas and his dreaming realm. If there were more, kind hearted people who only did what is right…this would be the majesty of Arda, to live in her elated bosom, unrestrained. – It still may be…our quest, our dearest…of all Queens. – Finally, Cersei, you are back – and then, the Lioness has glimpsed at something that broke all her hardy shields up.

It was her mother…and father…together. They are both picking her up, loving her together with both brothers, there was no discrimination, no making distinctions, just the unsullied love. Mama…mama! Like a little lady of lionesses, the hunters of the jungle, she ran to her mother’s breast! It was just, it was fair, it was rightful and righteous, for all those who broke themselves for the right cause. Free, and no one told the difference. IT was the Time, when the World beholds and not even a whisper of differing was ever uttered anymore. Let it dream away. And let it stay in there, faceless, formless and nameless. Thank you, High Lady Galadriel of Lorien. You who cried innumerable tears, who lighted our paths when all what we needed, is a smile.

My warm journey, begins…, this time it doesn’t end in cold. It is just the beginning of something bigger than ourselves, of the grander image of Living.

This why you were so powerful. Not because you held back your grief, you gave it all to the Life, in return, one kind word, the soft beam of brilliance, may change the course of all the lives. Every tear counted, and when all looked bleak, when all seemed dusky and doomy, you were there. Now, we know…Lilith never found you…Eve, the Mother of all humankind, for you were by wise God’s Will, hidden in... embodiment of Adam’s second wife. Who would take heed? For who would tell that she is hiding in the elven body of the one who remains the unintended. God was Great, truthfully is so.

You are our Eve, Galadriel – she looks away with a mystery in her light irises under which the secret remains concealed. Let it rest within me, our Lady.
No woe, indeed. May the Blessed…walk with us. The Real Eve…other are your embodied manifestations from the given Life. How cunning, God got.
May it be so, fearing Allfather. What I built over time, it all is now below my barehanded visions, at the foothills of my Throne, I sit with the HONOR!

Chapter 59: Beaming Mirrored Worlds

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Mountain heights of Children of Forest in stone and Faith of Seven, become one. She is awakened by the lightened fairies and darkling faes, scurrying around and flying away when she tried to touch one of them, it is the innate and instinctively affirmed human characteristic of all who hold human in oneself, they looked so cute and transcendental to her, for they are transcending the life indeed. She knows now what happened to Tyrion. Jaime also found out. It always ate her, on her flesh and blood, and he has got a new life. Father was proud and loved them all, this is what he said in the last breath. It was the taste of filling marzipan that permeates your cavern, belonging to…Silence. Yes, Silence. Keep quiet, when the warrior kings and war overlords are trying on the substance of raw potency, for her natural shields were risen up, no need to learn herself or by the other to be taught. Gets up.

- Lady Galadriel…Your Grace…I can’t ever thank you sufficiently - courtly bowing to her and for her favors, again, which Galadriel honored by a small nod, while watering her flowery gardens by the sprinkling magic that was spurting from every corner of the beautified and emblazoned lonely paved paths, for the High Lady of Lorien, the Witch Queen knew better than to intervene.

- Why? – Why what, Dear? – Why don’t you…fight? – It is not my path anymore. I fought for a long time, incessantly. I grew tired, I can’t change anything. For the Darkness always comes back, just changes the shape and I…wish to spend my immortal life in my secluded gardens while the world burns over and over again, as it did for around innumerable Ages of mine, no bearing fruits, it blossoms into something of majesty, later on it is unrecognizable for everything you sow, there is no hope to grow.

- You have a debt to pay. My…Queen – with these words, she prompts Galadriel to turn around to her, for her soul and unwavering heart of spirit, are upon something she, for the first time, feels is RIGHT to do. – You don’t know. Cersei. I helped you, because it would soothe your immortality if you succeed to gain it for eternal days, it is gruesome, but when you are ready, it will be done and…the walled bastions around your cathedral of the mindfulness will be protected for all days to come. It won’t fail the mortal in you, only if you wish to be so, human eternal life is gone within intrinsic you after the made wish. You understand it? – she does, for…it is not lightly to live for the everlasting nights when there are no stars all the while captivating lights are coming from the gleaming lanterns, beautifully flowing with majestic gleams and flashing twinkling that cast rainbow brightness upon what is emphasizing further enchanting prettiness which mesmerizes and fulfills, fascinates, leaving you breathless.

- You are the most powerful Elven woman that ever lived. You may…no…you can oppose your…nephew – she walks in front of her, the pride never left her adamant stares and Galadriel exhales softly, for her sighs indicated something she longed to uncover for her human Queen…for something else to occupy her dreams. – Come, you must see, to comprehend, there is no other way.

- Even then, it won’t change my mind. I know…it is the price, the risk you would take, for the Death against One Ring is the damned one, but you would be…brought back, the same like you always have been. But I also know, you are able to hold it at bay as long as we need it. – Follow my steps, do not stray from the path – she wasn’t disregarding, the Elf Lady always listens, but first, you must listen to her, if you wish to be heard by her voice. Where is she bringing her to? She would never deem it would be…another dimension. Where did she walk into, where is it and when did it happen?! – Don’t be scared, do not pay attention. Do now swarm your thoughts by the unnecessary ideas and it will pass, like everything that does and all what ceased to be is just our most internal hopes. You lay all the trust on me, it is what you can.

What the golden lioness, of the gold Queen, would never expect was the wonder – stricken ballroom. Is she invited? No, wait, what is…she was in Brienne’s mind. Her breath stays hitched in her depraved lungs. Actually, this was Jaime’s too. He loves her, without fail, with no exception, all the time, she was the obstacle, the obligation he respected to the last detail ultimately on the cost of his happiness, on behalf for her and the family, Brienne suffered too. Such an amazing woman, honorable to the least, something she can’t be, never, for Jaime Lannister. He was the free spirit, just like Brienne of Tarth, spring meadows and wild horses were their dream.

How father ordered, this is how they played, danced the game that was never theirs to keep, it was his, belonging to him, everyone was in the wrong to do so. She can mend it, correct the rivers where they were clipped. Now, she has a chance to send it to him, to set him free, unbound from her being that kept him soldered to his bone and kin, no longer, the holy vow from which he is forevermore freed. She already misses him from the bottom of her guts, missing so… that visceral feels of fulfillment, but has to let him go. It hurt, encircling one lithe arm around her slim waistline, well-built figure, a waist of her womb. No longer bound to her will...he shall be. Doesn’t know for what this serves, what is meant to have with anything, but she cut the red string with which she held him in the bondage, and Jaime from another side, wakes up, unknowingly, he cried sorrowfully. She let go. Cersei was all broken, she understood for what it is…why Galadriel can’t move on, this is what she always was doing, severing the bonds that are no longer destined, neither ordained.

She had no strength to find in herself to deny anything, especially Cersei for her Jaime, when she discovered that he got…the third child, all about him, for now he shares the same heart with the King she finally took, rather than to be impelled to do so and feel, for she knew more than anyone of any human, except for the truth that he is at peace, for she was well taken care of, by her chosen one and all by oneself likewise. He was so grateful, he couldn’t go on until it was fulfilled from her side. Granted.

- What have I done? – You break free from chains which are laid on both of you, caged you to doom, of father and kinship you foster to your House of Lion. This is what held you down, back from what you stood for. You are no more a woman who breaks her promises, you are the Queen whose word will echo throughout Life, who stands behind her oaths and whose words will mean stronger than any signed paper. I believe, this is my gift to you. And my dearest daughter of Eve… Cersei, I don’t know how it sounds and the way it looks, neither what it does to you, how you are experiencing, but beware as I am aware, and if you ask why…it is hard to believe, that I was just like you. In your high self, I see my image, resembling the identical mirror, akin to the magical beauties and alike my visions in the watery well. It is like you were imagined to remind me of vanity. Oh, my days were ripe with my hubris, preoccupying my sanity until I haven’t lost it for good. Because, when we don’t know…what the future holds for us, it is very difficult to stay amongst the brave ones.

- My Elven Queen – the human in her grows audacious, regains the courage and she took her dainty hands into hers. – You are for no reason, called Witch Queen, for the power suits women, and the strength of rawness that you possess, would even shame God to silence. Please, I implore you, one more time, be there for us against Dark Lord, I beg of you! You are one link that is missing. You are…our Eve – Galadriel fondles human hands in hers, letting them go. Turning away from...

Everything and anything. The truth is…she was living in the dreading fear since she remembers, and when did she lose it? When has it been lost to her?

- If I do that…It would only mean, that I stand side by side, on his side…my Uncle Feanor, the Devil that took me and claimed my gold threads.

In that instant, she becomes conscious for what this was all. At every chance, Galadriel wants to assist and aid, but without being persuaded into affairs of demonic Uncle she abhorred. And she has each justified reason to hate him to the marrowbones.

He deserved her hatred, but the children were no to blame.

Without anticipating it, Cersei’s powers are aroused and telepathically, she sent over, to the woman who means so much to her, and availed her so, like nobody would, to cross over her borders, after which Elven High Queen realized, having her do it, making her sensible of what is occurring around her when she looked away, opening faired eyes before the World. It was returned. She twirls, looking with a mysterious smile upon finely looks.

Elf High Queen by human boundaries, succeeding when no one had before. Tyrion turns to Tara. Siblings, whatever do to one another, forgive after all.

Fairy Dust shrouded her, leaving the glistered gleam after her teleportation and she was back to her place where she was watching herself at the flowered mirror. Thinking again, perhaps, she might have her dinner with Fingolfin. Well, you may always heat up if something grows cold, right? By her own hand, unnecessarily to open for her, she closes the oak door behind her. Her ironwood room of enchantment stays quiet in where Mirror smiled.

And her shoes? She forgot them in Lothlorien, putting another slippers on, barehanded and barefoot, she must repeat it from time to time. It is soothing.
The Lord of the Darkness as well as a declared Lord of the Rings, has a feeling that his respective Aunt is turning, to resist him. I waited for you, My dearest Aunt! Reheat all anew!!

*
Fingolfin, he is High, my King…too. And I…his Queen.

Chapter 60: The Last Days

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Dark Ages of Tears, those were. High Princess Lyanna and her High Prince Celegorm, during their travelling on their loyal Huan, Valinor Wolfhound, the Great Dog of War with werewolf blood, were thinking that they were never in truth, married, for the marriage is the sacrament between the two people who love each other to the blood and never-ending death. Thus, the deal was struck, they have to find the eastern or southeastern glade where in tranquility would be able to perform their holy ceremony, if not now, when? And the Time is not passing for them, it is going away for their child, the son. Jon Snow. With his strong arms around her slenderness, Celegorm wasn’t certain, what to think at this point about his Dragon son who bore no silver in his unkempt ebony tresses, it must be that Feanor’s elven blood, of his Great Father, was flown plainly more into him than that of the full Dragon. Whatever his son was, their child is, whoever…he is the baby of both of them. Because of their love, the Life broke across the stellar universes.

- My Lyanna, I don’t believe that this clearing will do it. – Then, we go and find the next one.

- You know that I feel him – her heart skips, he doesn’t tell her all and that much, for a very good intention.

- The Shadow follows him.

- Celebrimbor? – Yes.

- Why don’t we march upon Eregion, instead chasing after the tracks of Northmen, who knows if we are going to ever catch up, nor which route they are going through, neither by whom or how, but…you know where the dark kingdom, Eregion of shadowlands, is nesting, isn’t that right? – her silky voice, like chiming bells are resounding through his hoarse one, eventually, the voice of his got deeper, just like in his son, tightening his solid hold he had on his beloved, not letting go, even if she is to refuse him…one day. Never again. She may fight and resist, he will squeeze and press his power upon her humanity that is stolen, she is as immortal as he is. By Turgon’s potion which is still doing wonders to those who accepted willingly so.

He remains silent. Going after Celebrimbor? By himself and Huan? He is valiant, but not an Idiot like his son! This is why they want to catch them, to stop this madness he is doing. Who knows what was the worth of it all, and he still is persistent at assaulting, none other than Lord of the Rings? From whom he inherited it? Ah, yes…Dragons. Are all Targaryens mad? It seems so.
The more he senses his own blood that streams in him, the more he becomes aware of that simple fact. Jon follows Blood and Fire, unintentionally, it is exactly a cause of why his Wolf nature comes to such drastic levels of expressions. He never thought of having a Dragon, as a child, he is bonded to Wolf, it was the gift from the one who abducted him and had to be rescued by Narnia children, some gifts are not of pure intents, causing strife, even though he is the distinctive one among brothers with his silver ivory hair that bears no red or black like in all his brothers of 7.

He is the Third Emperor’s son, the favorite is, it figures, Curufin, for he the most resembled the Great Father of theirs, how in the imagining, and so upon the name and by the bearing the hold of all the Elves. Never before he went somewhere alone, so long, without him as his fellow rider, but it seems, Times are changing faster than anticipated and his younger, the 5th of Feanor, was called to return to Aman, which he heeded and he stays in Middle Earth, like Hell he is going to obey his Father, he couldn’t stop him from finding her, what is use of halting his steps, which he didn’t even dare.

His Father is not a simple man to talk to. Overbearing and domineering. He sometimes, hated, seeing in his third son, Celegorm, THE DRAGON, reminding them of their legacy which he has to admit, either by GOD or Devil he is himself. Not the same, equal to Morgoth, if it weren’t for the cherished White Lady or Lady in White, the Lady of Two Towers, the most known and first Shieldmaiden after whom every other girl followed her in human dresses. Eowyn. And Lyanna is no different when it comes to following her heart. Cannot deny his bride.
- It changes everything. - You have Huan with you and your own Dragon powers, which are laying…untapped. Celegorm. I know it.

- Someone told you? Beloved? – No, but it became clear when Glorfindel didn’t face you when you were both present at Dragon tournament where Daemon, his son to whom he gave his life and ingrained by the blood, bonding souls together with hearts and spirits that dwell in the carnal bodies, bound to one another, for all days to come, fought the disguised you as White Knight against his blackness. – It is the other way around, I had evaded him, for far ago, Great Father warned all 7. – Still, Great Lord Glorfindel, he won’t miss the opportunity to aggravate, the Golden Prince of Gondolin…is smarter than that, he just doesn’t want to provoke what is not to be unnecessarily stirred.

- You are giving me too much merit. – He got High Lord, Swan Prince to himself, the one who carries the Dragon blood in himself too, thanks to it, their daughter are born to them, why do you think, it was lightly to claim Ecthelion?

- You mean… - For he owns raw mightiness, draws energy from Sun, when it comes to destroying world, just in once glance, Glorfindel is Man, even so…psychic abilities are when he is on the thin Ice, though he is well taught, perfectly versed, trained and disciplined by Swan, he can’t reach fantastic pinnacles as Telepaths of Spheres may. – He brings Winter and Snow follows.

- You are Fireborn of Dragonblood that Glorfindel doesn’t fear, but of Flame he is cautious not to get too much burned like the moth that is lured to a fiery blaze. – God Elf has bested Morgoth, he fears nothing. – But, he has weakness and that is the same with Jon Snow. Human hearts, although, one chose to stay human and mortal, the other is undying Elf. – I would never stand a chance, neither of telepaths. – Yet, you may slow both down. Jon Snow and Glorfindel, you and the likes of yourselves, are the one who keep the world of balance. You are Emperor’s son, greatness is yet to be summoned inly you, my Prince.

Hm, there is nothing he can counter her with, but, going after…the Lord of Darkness is another thing. He senses something, his ears move like in a dog, something that evermore fascinates Lyanna, for it is silly and at the same time, practical, their eyes reached far as long as there are reaches to envelope. Truly astonishing are Elves in all their beauty and the ugly sides. His senses went wild! Talking about God Elf himself! He cannot veil self from a silver.

- Glorfindel! – Really!? Oh, can’t believe it! – her heart is pounding. It was Glorfindel f*cking Golden Flower! - Far from us, but I hunted his energy field down! He can’t hide for long from me, and he… did catch us too! Ah, he knows we are coming his way now. No use to avoid the inevitable, so we just pass by and do not disturb… - she rolls her eyes, until he startles her – but wait, there is that smaller, human one.

- A slave he captured all the way down in here? In the Far East?! I know he is an adventurer as his ancestors, but still, claiming in the mid of wilderness, I know you Elves can’t help it, I learned as much, still… - That was always his thing, no one tells him where and what, nor the way he goes into, he just does his whims regardless of anyone, he is the most liberated Elf who pays no heed, no one forbids him anything, the only place where we never dare to set foot, any of us for a sure reason, except our foolish Jon who f*cked up and woken her, unplanned, though he knew it was forbidden with the meaning, was the vanished Mountain of Doom, she did it, that was an incarcerating prison of Dark Goddess that is punished to stay in her true form, Ungoliant Monster Spider, now, all what remained is the Gory Mist that traps her for some time, but her eerie echoes are heard throughout and expected to burst out, at any time.

- The dangers are from all sides, the Dark Lord is going to use it against us, that is why this is…the astonishment! You two must be brought together. – Me and Glorfindel?! That guy hates our guts! Because of what my brothers did when he came for the Wall! No, he would rather eat me! – Since where you are a coward?! – I would face One Ring, Black Dread and even Seven Hells, but not…Glorfindel. That man is nuts like Dragons! – He is not even a Targaryen! – Far Worse! He is Elf Bolton! – Bolton is with him?! – Yes, the one he...wait, it doesn’t make sense, there are some explaining to be done – she smirks wolfishly. – He is after Celebrimbor too.

Speaking of the Devil. She is right. All right then, here goes nothing. But, first things first, both really must take their oaths, if here is no possible chance, nothing to be done so far, yet. Huan stayed silent, not because he is prohibited to speak or any of sort, you do not inhibit him in no way, but something isn’t good, he smells hidden and skulking shadows which are passing a long way before It reaches all three of them or even the little party of Prince…no…rightful King in the North. Glorfindel of the Golden Flower. Better not to upset his Master and his Mistress, not right away when they are close to fulfill their dream, later, it is not so close. But, he is going to warn when the Time is nigh, until, he eagerly, so keenly, avoided, the unavoidable.

What did you unleash...Dark Elf Prince?! That which...belongs to you?! For you had triumphed over the one who wore the smallest ring of all strengths.

Due to the truth that was unbounded when Celegorm let go Luthien on time to find her human Beren, to start beyond the Walls of the World, the new confines of the Life, to serve the Light. Never forsaking or putting aside those who are blessed in the Dying Lands. Whatever lies in wait, both are braced. For purpose of both Oathkeeper and breaker of Longclaw’s Jon and Ice of Robb are equal and the same, the Wheel will show what comes next.
*
While the Warrior Elephants, the War Great Beasts, to the last word, kept it and now, they are enjoying their newfound Haven for the young, elders and the rest.
*
Fortune favors the Bold…because, what you feel, your animal companion experiences even more, covertly.
Whatever is chosen, Traditional ways or Turgon’s Potion (Great King of Gondolin, King’s King), the tradition stands the test of Time, that it does the duty of Grand World Powers.
Has nothing to give but what twins of all kinds, in every family, specially Dragons, have to impart on the Twin Trees of Aman…Blessed Realm.

Chapter 61: Knowledge and Tongue of all kinds

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Nevertheless, it put him in the awkward situation, he can’t even concentrate anymore, or centered his thoughts upon what they are to do, both were ready to take their vows, and Huan was there to…well, not only witness, but be their witness and to…even marry them? Oh well. Both can do it all by themselves anyway, right? However, they weren’t sure, by which faith either? Hers was the Children of Forest, Targaryens took Faith of Seven and what about Noldor? What kind of religion…did North Elves follow? Hm, she never thought about him and he was hesitating. If he hesitates, then, there is something that is most likely not to like at all, which aspect? Or she is just overthinking. Maybe, something is bothering him? She tells her mind.

- Look, he is my brother, one of great brothers. I am proud of them in each special way. I am the Great Human King’s daughter, the last of Men rulers there are to be and the sister of Kings and Great Prince of Men…which is Benjen Stark. But, I am still just a human, an adept survivor, for the wilds won’t ask you of the status and the warrior Princess for the fell beasts who do not heed if you are a woman or not, the Lady of War, if there is no one to defend, I will. For there is nothing for me to be scared of, besides, he knows me, we spoke and met. Led talks and still have correspondence, he taught me everything he knows…I know how this all rings wrongly to you, perhaps, this is not the timing, nor the issue at all, but this is something I must confess to you, just because you are my man and Elf, you are firstly person. This is how I ever and forever will look at the people to be. Whenever he visits, he was gentle…

- He knew about you, all the truth, and he also guarded you from me? Keep you all to himself when you could give nothing but yourself in return. – Brothers are just like that, it doesn’t matter Elf or Man, but he let go for my happiness… - Would you? Are you ready to sacrifice your own niece, your brother’s daughter for peace and kindness? – No, there are other ways, at least…I thought so, this is why I suggested to go where we shouldn’t. My Prince and for you to join forces together with… due to being my son’s Uncle too, the Great one for nephews and nieces of the North. Just leave this to me. Is that all right with you? – he sighs heavily, she is digressing. – I don’t know…I believe I am going to take your…religion.

- Wait…nobody should give upon their own culture and…I am not forcing you, you don’t need to do this and…

- And I am going to take your surname.

- But… - he exhales in exasperation.

- Long time ago, I forced myself on others too, and it stays in me, not anymore. I keep my honor to oneself. So…Elven religion of North…it is not for the human to undergo, so…I am taking your part of your human creed and take upon the name…Stark… in this way…Jon…ceases to be Snow…right? I am legalizing him just in the way…High Queen of Holy Land did it for herself when she was getting married to Dark Prince of Dragons. Becoming the Queen of Dragonstone – speechless, to the point that she placed her tender hands on his muscled chest and cried, thanking him so. For Jon would never acknowledge being Elf if it means…forsaking his Northern roots, and in this fashion…even without his consent, even without him wishing to change from Snow to Stark, it is growing to be a part of him, but not as the Bastard, but the armor HE wears proudly. He was Jon Stark, what he claimed, by me, it is naturalized.

- I take! – both kissed each other passionately, and Huan wasn’t sure…did they do it?! Like, that’s it!? If it were, this is the shortest wedding ever?! Oh, well. Elves and Men. Of bees and honey…Smart, the two of them skipped the crucial part and went onto the business, still, he found the need for the closure, clearing the doggy voice.

- I pronounce you a husband and wife. You may take the bride, I mean… you are already doing the kissing and…never mind. Jon Snow is no longer bastard, just his nickname, damn, I am good at this! – he says more to himself than to anyone else. While on the other side, Glorfindel was hastier than he will be never. – Hurry, Bolton, and let Blackie hurry too! Before Huan smells him! – I shall regret it before I even utter it, but wouldn’t be more practical for you to carry me?! Just throw me over your shoulder like the bag of chips and… - he didn’t have to tell it twice, it was done and Blackie was in his arms, for his shorter legs couldn’t catch up and if he transforms into a bigger doggie while Huan is out there, wasn’t the brightest idea in any way. Making Glorfindel all too much…well, keen on seizing the opportunity he never misses if it is divulged in front of his bare eyes of fairness.

Monkeylike, he climbed the trees, leapt from one branch to another, looking invisible for a second, for such was the enormous speed and agility of movements while Bolton, all what he could is to stay silent, spinning in his head, conceiving one day, this is the way, by which means…the people are going to travel around the world, with the fast supersonic vehicles. Where that came in mind, and what about Elves? Hide for all time, in Blessed realm.

- Glorfindel… - Shhhh, do not speak, you may bite on your tongue. – What is it about you and our tongueessss… - Glor jumped so high that he was merely grazing the highest peaks of the crowned and highlighted points of the twinkling tops. Wow. – I told you, keep your tongue in or... if you prefer, I can save in my tongue too!
- No, no, no…My mouth is shut – Glorfindel chuckles, so easily to shut him up. He tamed him so well. Nonetheless, he halted upon one of the sturdiest tree, hiding in the shadows, behind them, he was certainly not visible to the naked eye, be it of High Elf of Valinor or the simple Man. It was also good that Blackie knows when he is not to whine too. – Glorfindel…

- I am still your Lord, address me as such.

- Give me a break – Glor sighs out, oh…at least he broke the human, again, but the more…conventional style, indulging him because of it. – What?! What is it now? – I nonstop catch some notions of concepts…Valinor, Aman…what is the big deal…and what is what? Can you explain it to me, while you are…avoiding something or you are careful to stay unseen.

- You then keep your tongue in? If I tell?! – Yes, at least, for now…until the Time calls for me to open my mouth. – My co*ck awaits eagerly – the fly passes, and Glorfindel beams with laughter, silencing Bolton became the hobby of his, how did he live without him for all this time, staying alive?! – First of all, Aman is the Undying Lands, it is the Island we call the Blessed Realm for there are all of Gods that are ruled by all the present Allfather, Eru Iluvatar, which means there are others for every Life, here they are responsible for Arda that is essentially called Earth, while we are in Middle – Earth that consists of Westeros (West) Essos (East), South and North that is the essential part, as the vital piece of Westeros, so, when you say West or North, it is one and the same and it is mainly preoccupied by the Men on the borders of the West, yes, The Wall and Starks, everything else is still the undiscovered country, the one that is yet to be discovered in the Conquest of Paradise and it will be by you humans, until that time comes, we are all back whence we came from or we stay hidden from the plain sight. That is our nature, oh, we pick up one or two of you along and… you know how the story goes.

- I get it, go on…while we wait what you…wait… - Good boy, so – Ramsay sighed and rolled eyes simultaneously while Glor speaks all the rest.

- So, these Gods are Angels, we call them Ainur. People mistake when they call them Ainurs, it is from the past mistakes. Ainur is plural, Ainu is single, so ones of them, came down in the forms they took, and they are now called Valar, yes, Valar is plural and Vala is single. So, when you say, he or she is Vala, it just means he is Ainu who came down to Earth.

- Got it, thank you.

- We go to the next. There are 8, and that is by the name they are retitled, the 8 most important who rule the Powers of the World behind the Walls of Arda, the Confines of the Void. They are Aratar (Exalted) or High Ones of Mother planet, the greatest of Valar, the Masters and Mistresses of Spirits including High Elves who lived FIRST in Valinor, for the whole history of Elves, I have already explained and Nandor are the ancestral genesis of the Elves who never completed the Great Journey to Valinor, now you see why it is named so, it is the Land of Gods (Manwe is King of Earth and his wife Varda is Queen of Stars or Mother Nature, Ulmo is the Great Lord of Waters while Yavanna is growing the Nature or the Heart of Mother nature, Aule is the High Smith of Stone and Wood, the one who created Dwarves firstly before putting them to sleep before the coming of…rebellious Elves, us, and who passed down the knowledge of FORGE. Mandos is the Ruler of the Underworld or the Land of the Dead, Nienna is the High Lady of Mercy, she is the world preeminent, turning to the grandest teacher of none other than Gandalf, the Grey Wizard. And Orome, the Great Hunter and the King of all Woods). Mortals can beat him with only his own breeds he graces upon them, yes, Valinor War Dogs and…the Dragons… for Dragons burn the whole greenwoods, so…each of them, they have their weakness, and can be brought down by mortal human or Dwarf, immortality means nothing if for just one strength that is actually their weak point, the spots they haughtily hide from everybody. And so, Valmar or Valimar (City of Bells) is where specifically live those of Valar while Eldamar is of Eldar not Elder, but Eldar (High Elves) (before we all were Eldar by Orome, it is a mistake) you see, those who are in direct contact with the Twin Trees which are the central of Valinor.

- You are of Eldar, Glorfindel? – Yes. Yes I am. – I see, and that unnatural golden color of your mane is from the Twins?! - Yes…Twin Trees (Yavanna grew them). This is why we are blessed with lots of twin children and the reason why Targaryens are silver, for one Tree is Silverlight, the other is of the Sunlight. – Don’t stop – he charmed him, it warms his elven human heart… - I will go on, so…it is Elvenhome, the coastal region of Aman, settled by mostly Elves. Third Group, Teleri are next to the sea, Grand Sailors, while Noldor are...in the North and Vanyar Elves are on their mountains because of the Dragons, the utmost high and even higher heights all up.

It all came to be wrapped up, Of High (Eldar), forebears of the Great Journey who came in the direct contact with the Two Trees, Grey Elves were formed of Teleri by the Light they lived through Elu Thingol’s Eyes, forefather or progenitor of Sindar (silverhaired) race he sired, the Sire of the Greys and Nandor Elves who by the will not only didn’t complete, but never went upon the Great Journey when they are being invited, never wishing to give upon their Middle Earth, which is representing everybody else.

For there are other distinctions, but this was the most laconic and easy to be understood, if anybody dugs deeper, it would just convolute all the other knowledge of lore. Hm, the Greys, is that...where all these memories from the little Greys came.
*
It is the same with a speech. The common tongue of Men that all speak, Valyrian and High Valyrian, and of old Qyenya of Eldar and Sindarin of Grey.
*
In regard to humans, it stays that out of all, Men fear the capture, for it only meant, often, being inseminated by the growing womb in, by the Elf males.

Fashioned roads to nuances of yore. And the Deeps of Time will show, just how much depth, one single Wheel has.

Welcome to the family of odds and great powers of all Wolves.

*
Fear the God that bleeds, we soothe your mouth and lips, subdued in bondage. For numerable eons, we numbered in the wake of uncounted names, since the first break of the sunset, we had been here. Watching, biding our time, preying upon the prey, groveling into the deepness.

When you don’t know, it could have been you, for you are unaware what you are missing...so.

Chapter 62: Dire vs Valinor, from the same Fount

Chapter Text

The Black Wells of Dragons, always unearth what is ripe for taking. And so there are the legends that become myths when the runts of the Packs prevail where the greatest never even dared or didn’t, never will, after or before, the unwanted became the most beloved and strongest, for Jon Snow chooses only the mightiest, wiser he grew next to King Ned Stark, knowing that the truthful strength doesn’t rest in our bodies, but hearts. And look at his Wolf Queen now, of the dire and Valinor blood, she was unparalleled and this is how it is going to stay, for choosing the smallest, it came to be his dearest. Just because Valinor Dogs are bigger, faster, stronger, healing swifter and smarter, it doesn’t mean that Direwolves can’t equal them, for they are braver, daring, cunning, more resilient and with their healing tongues, they cure both selves and others as long as there is a power in them to remedy.

Because when a good man of a kind heart, and of the purest of the soul whose spirit inhabits the physical shape is corrupted, only then, the world is completely doomed, and so, without his most treasured bride, can’t carry the shouldered burdens, anymore. Ceasing all what was known, to the unknown. In that instant, Lyanna and Celegorm were opposed by the One for whom they reckoned, is going to be a simple catch for their plans. Only now, Lyanna takes a look by self, to see it through that it isn’t easily to be a mastermind behind Intelligent design, due to the unforgiving and unrefined might that is exuding from Glorfindel. Hm, probably, this wasn’t such a good idea.

How the hell he caught up to them…so fast? The two have just finished taking their...ritual, pledging themselves in good and evil, whatever that arrives, both are doing everything together. Hand in hand, they waited while the Golden Prince…the uncrowned King in the North is evaluating their positions, by his side was…yes, they sensed right. It was Bolton and some little dog in his arms which he put down at that second when their eyes are bolted altogether. Huan snarls threateningly. Every animal is on guard whenever God Elf is around, for his days of the Monster Elf are still following him faithfully, unceasing so simply, as someone would think it is rightly.

- Brother! What are you doing in here?! I assume, you had a change of heart and the Northman with his little companion alongside him, on your side is the proof! – she shouted strictly but confident of herself. Glorfindel smirks and her eyes narrows. O…o

- Celegorm.

- Yes?

- RUN for your life!
- What?! – this was the flashing, upturning stone…

Huan lunges at the small Blackie so fast who in the vehement rush converted into the larger Dogwolf who is crushing against the power of the Wolfhond of werewolf blood, countering violently and opposing brutally until he feels that he is choked, catching the sense of his Master’s fear for him who is held strongly with the intensified vigor, which is intensely keeping him down, forcefully in his place, not to meddle in, by Glorfindel himself, for this was the moment when the great fear is overpowered by the WRATH and Blackie becomes The Blackie the Behemoth!

Both Lyanna and Celegorm who availed to stop all the brutality, stood still when Balrog springs out of the mass of ashen mist and blazing smoke, it reeked of the smoldering vapor, and the vicious screeching, ignited all the Hells in the War Dog of Valinor, for Huan got enlarged, enhanced and monstrously savage, assaulting the last remaining demon of the seminal Balrogs which are no more, just their Phantoms thanks to Ungoliant that is ravaging her freedom through at this very moment, but…not yet.

It was the very first clash after such a long time against the Monster Beasts which are violating the whole grounds and ravishing the wholly landscapes with their unholy faculties and mightily potencies. Until all what remained are the even equals. Blackie is shortened into his downsized mold while Huan is back to himself, returning to the side of his Master and Lady Mistress, after what, Bolton storms hastily, racing with the Time, catching him in his fatherly arms, before going back to Glorfindel, if he didn’t…who knows just how much annoyed and riled up he can truly get, trying his patience, and making blood burn within.

Ruffling with the sanity that hangs at the thinnest of the longest threads out there. Antagonized beyond the sane mind. Why is that?! For the Grudge was severe, the reason why he turned out as the gloriest of all Elves is because of the most glorified and grandest downfall that was given in to him when he didn’t succeed to bring down the Wall of the North that still stands just to spite him as if a reminder of which he doesn’t desire to be reminded at all. And now, one of their brothers, Jon’s Father is here to taunt him with his presence?

He was stern and honestly serious when he commanded to Elf Emperor himself, of all Elves, for he is not the World’s, of all of them, that his blood not to cross with his, for no Sons of Feanor he ever lusts to lay eyes upon, nevermore.

If they seize even a sniff of him, let them run, except, never to meet their faces ever again to smell their Feanorian, accursed lives!

- You did good, Ramsay.
- I would never betray you and start running to either of them. I am yours, you know that.

- Your freedom is still mine to impart.

- Yes, yes…, I have just admitted. You are my idol I admire. I just don’t want to further aggrieve your infuriated self. – Let us hear what they have to offer. – Isn’t that your…sister?! Wow…she is…Wolf.

- I know. You distinguished well for I disciplined you myself thoroughly, binding your life to me by saving mine, the two are figuring it all out. Celegorm must have read you by now. – No way?! – He is a High telepath of Feanorians, just as I am the High Knight of Gondolin.

- I don’t want to see you…gone…in any way – this appeased Glor for a long second, before he is back to his old self, all his Walls are up around him and he is braced for another impact from his sole being. – No need to worry for your companions, they will heal just fine. Huan is the Beast of all Beasts, who would tell he can take on himself even the Balrog. – Remarkable specimen. – Indeed. Well, shall we approach them slowly? Bolton.

It was needless to answer, they did just that while Blackie flips on his tiny back, all four limbs up. Oh, not again. He has to pick him up and carry upon!

- What is it with the little one of yours?! – Lyanna is still a caring, very loving woman.

- Just tired of life! No fret, Lady, I will take him and hold.

What an interesting fellow this human is. And withstanding so long, to live with Glorfindel?! He should, not has got to be someone who is equally as intimidating as human, for Glorfindel never chooses weaklings to stay beside him.

He abhors such humans, in practice, letting them go free. Who would say, that the only thing that can save you from becoming Elf King’s Prey, declared Lord of his House and Prince of Gondolin (for it houses and breeds the best of the best among Princesses, Ladies, Lords and Princes who serve the Crown of High Seat along Throne) amid Monster and God Elf with the added Clown label is the sheer fact that he can’t stand the weak spirits just like in Melisandre who has no bounds when it comes to her Shadowbinding, for she was Shadow Witch like no other, but not even she dares where Fae Dark Queen of Fairies enters uninvited, where the Dead dwell. Such is Fairy Witch. Lyanna misjudged the severity of situation.

Huan didn’t smell Blackie’s arriving, odd, for in that smallest body in the world, is all the potential rawness abiding to be unchained so. Celegorm hadn’t run, he took a stand. Maybe, he does it later. For when you are in front of Glorfindel of Golden Flower, all senses in you start to work up your adrenaline and it is then, Fight or Flight, usually, it is the latter. All instincts of the body work for your being, howsoever, right now, the Clown Elf caught sight of Son of Emperor better, he has to be a doppelganger of Rhaegar, both are so similar in looks.

After them, the Nature needs time to heal. Huan is being petted by the newlyweds, all the while Blackie is carried gently around, he must replenish his ungodly vitality, save, most of all. The Great Power of Twins is coursing for both sides. Reimagined and Original Elves. Making dual originals in blood.

The troubling circ*mstances are heightened troubles, reinforced oddities due to being stuck with Elves, it is intensifying a feeling of witnesses who bore the same witness in respect to the Leverages of each side. Except to Glorfindel, neither any of them were eased by emotions of bearing such sufferings!
*
Deep Time of even Deeper Space, what breaks the might? Undergo the undertaking, give your promise and come back when you are braced for an impact. Runes of Destiny are ours to own. We are Children of THE Worthy Sire. For the King of all Kings was among us walking!

Chapter 63: Our Pact, the Gift of Life

Chapter Text

Just like Jon Snow, Glorfindel grew up watching other people’s backs, more precisely, the ones who could be his father, but none one of them was his King until he met him and became his High Knight, pledging himself to Gondolin, while Jon knew only the back of the man he has grown into. Now, someone else, someday, will watch his broad back and succeed the wide shoulders which shoulder the suffering of his people and the homeland. Celegorm wasn’t imprecise when he uttered that he fears rightly, not to be devoured by Glorfindel. For even though they are sons of his best friend, it doesn’t mean that you may embroil yourself into something what is not your place to do so.

Since the day when the Silmarils, the Great Jewels of their Great Father were unsealed from their golden cage in where the gold shackles clanked, accidentally, the World started to change with the Whole Lives, for around their Holy Illumination, the Earth was reshaped, for it consists of the last remaining shards of Twin Trees. When this is not lost, there is hope to shine brightly through the most blackened clouds, and its silvered beams will bathe us once more when all the Life ceases to be one with Death, because Ned listened to Feanor, what he was voicing as his most concerned worries, due to the fact, that his woes weren’t just his own but were shared.

- Lyanna…I knew you would do something like this.

- You let it happen – in front of her Big Brother, eye to eye, face to face, she had a lot of time to learn everything while being around them, for so long, that she doesn’t even remember the last time she watched Jon’s face through one of elven Emperor’s Seeing Stones, it was like the World’s King or the King of the World, Manwe, was unintentionally, not allowing her to see the full face since the day she held him for the last time in her feeble arms, it broke her even more, for she barely survived her son’s childbirth, alike Miriel, the Queen Mother of Feanor, for whom, Finwe, High King and Feanor’s father sacrificed his longevity that resulted in his death by Morgoth when he one night attacked and they succeeded to defend their Home, yet, lost the Life of the King, thus it all began by Feanor being the crowned the High King, after becoming their Emperor, Fingolfin took over the position for the High Elves and the Hand of the Emperor, becomes Ingwe, the Lord of the Vanyar Dragons, the Father of Ingwion.

All is so intricately tied together, that it was impossible to ever divide, this made her big brother heartened when she permitted for him to read her feelings.

- It wasn’t your time, Lyanna, you would just confuse Jon, he thinks you are…dead.

- Or this is what he believes. I know he feels it too, that I am alive. Everyone does. Why would my presence be that of the Ghost? Everything is attainable just by…dreaming.

- I see from where Jon inherited the Wolf’s idiotic side.

- It goes for you too – Glor smiles charmingly, Bolton had never seen Glorfindel like this, not this side of him, at all. He was a different man, who bluntly ignores Celegorm, her husband.

- It would be nice you look at him, not just count his breaths – Glorfindel eyes the smiling Celegorm. – I would have your ears if you continue smiling like an idiot in my…presence – the elven ears flattened, of the Great Elf Hunter, albeit Huan had to snicker, someone puts even his Master in his…favorable and deserved place while he observes warily Blackie, as a matter of fact, he never lifted his eyes, nor removed his glare off the little guy. Glorfindel followed the observant and wholesome perceptive stare that hides insightful views, behind each opinion, the stance is made, doing the most unusual movement that came from him. Placing his bearlike hand upon Bolton’s head, stroking tenderly all the while Ramsay remains silent and wary of seriousness which this odd situation required.

Still, this was something that even surprised High Princess Lyanna, in the same that it does to her High Prince, for all that High or Great, only emphasized that High means someone who gained the right to become the succeeding Heir in case there is a need for it, while Princess Sansa, for example, stays not the Lady if the circ*mstances call for the change, contrary to the Great, means obtained Glory and Name by which they are known as Great Lords and Kings of all kinds and races. In spite the positions, this boy has to be on the other level when he is favored very much that he is held in such a favor by her Big brother.

Even so, no one dared to question it until Glorfindel didn’t picture it to them and it prevented all other questions to arise, for he hated to explain or answer to anyone except when it is his King or himself, sending the necessary images to understand the entire story of theirs, getting the full – painting in their heads.

In this way, the trio got their answers in the spontaneous method, for the same way, it was given back to her brother whose Shadow, overshadows even Life. After all it was cleared, even the Blackie’s case, only then, they both hugged one another warmly, smelling each other’s presences whilst Ramsay could breathe out.

This was close. On the verge of turning out into something where there was neither the Time or Space for it.

- This means we struck a Deal! The joined Pact! – Glorfindel releases Lyanna, because of this, she can lightly breathe her freedom, but never too much distancing from Bolton he is, who got used to such possessiveness even when the touch is left out, which is territorially integrated into any Elf, especially someone as Glorfindel, whose otherworldy protection and protective side never fails to amaze even the most hardened warriors. It is invisible, but felt like thundering bolts from the vault of Heaven.

- Yes! – she is excited. – We are after our Son who went on the Holy Crusade of his, while you are after the one because of whom…unfortunately, this all commenced. Eh, who would suppose that it will be initiated by the Princess of the North who is second to none!

- I wouldn’t say it in such a manner, neither fashioned it. This is more like it has had its beginning, much longer than we count, since even my Birth, there Lyanna, before the First Change and when the World was older than today, no blemishes were on our Sun Star, nor the words were written in stone or upon the waters, we walked alone, and gave names to all what was powerless, nowadays, it is carved by both Fire and Ice – the beautiful wording was spread out, there was needless to feel any fear when Glorfindel was there. The grey clouds are gentled and above all else, the shadows fared not well. Little Blackie, as he senses the warmed sensations, snuggled better into his Master’s rather masterful hands, yawning loudly, endearing the people surrounding him. In that instant, Glor addressed the Son of Emperor. – Emperor’s son, Celegorm and the High Prince to the Crown, the Throne of all Elves and the Heir of the High Seat…

- Yes, My Lord? – Take care, great care of my sister…I… confronted your son – this touched outside of comprehension, both of them, who embraced, listened to what God Elf has to say, Bolton lifts up his head inspired by what he owed to say about Jon Snow.

- He is an idiot. Our blood…assured so. And do not worry. Winter shall be only someone who spoke about him, for even when Spring comes, he still shows his fangs. For there others too, with him, there is no other road, than the one he took, because Jon wouldn’t be such a marvelous King if not for them – the Parents lived his every word and the present people alongside, are seeing what Glor shows through his eyes, for the moving images shifted to the marching 300 and some, never giving up.

There is Bolton (Ramsay is tearing from the inside) who helps Sam that carries his heavy books and pots together, never parting from neither.
Ygritte yowls, his Lady Queen, it gladdens Lyanna out of all because Jon had two mothers too, just like Rickon, one who gave birth, the other who raised him, they are both Lady Mothers too him, as much as Celegorm was his Lord Father who conceived him and Ned brought up, into the world of Men, it brings memories, Ygritte reminded her of herself, she was perfect, in all her forms, the next was her, there is the loyal Direwolf, Lady, who comes to get back her Mistress.

To her meant side. Then, comes into the picture, the skilled Dame, the Shieldmaiden of the North, after Eowyn she was the best, even surpassing her, for there is next to none, she was second to no one except to notorious Arya Stark. Afterward, comes Jaime Lannister with his little family of daughter and dragon. In their water, the grandness is written in. Jon Snow follows the elvish valor of Tauriel who is Forest’s Daughter and his Hand of the King. Haldir of Lothlorien, for indeed, shadows can’t even touch Jon Snow, as long as he has his companions. Sansa is the luckiest Lady of all, why? For whose brother would come through Hills and Cliffs, changing the Fountains of the Worlds, and create the Powers of Life in our image, it was all for her. Sansa Stark. The girl who changed the world by her existence. No one touches HIS sister...and gets away with it. Never again on his watch.

Both are moved beyond and more. As it was destined, it looked so. The Emperor’s son was rejoiced, thanking Glorfindel who nods in return with a faint smile, ah Celegorm. Even you have very much to learn and reach the tallest tips of living. Surprisingly, the High Knight of holiness, untarnished by impurity, nevermore, demonstrates that something is here uncaged by the One Ring, from the Darkness it comes. He assessed, he doesn’t know what is hunting them specifically, but he knows what goes after the Fellowship, the Pack of Jon Snow, it is not from this world.

He deems, whoever affronts it, shall be in the unenviable predicament. He never would surmise it would be for the Wolves, it was so low, even for Celebrimbor, but he doesn’t heed how he strikes, stops at nothing to retake all what he wants. It was a good thing that he invisibly weakened the Shadow legions he sent, unnoticed he went, it was like his entrails told him, do it, you won’t unveil yourself while you concurrently give a chance whoever has to battle it. Anywise, this, which is down their throats, after their necks, nearing their beings, it isn’t from One Ring.

What is it? This is the Other… not the Others or Great Other. They shall find out soon. For Glorfindel can’t take advantage much of the inexplicable rawness of his unspeakable greatness. One Ring would know, they, perchance, do not react to one another, but can’t destroy either in response. That is why he evades the fighting as much as reachable. Until then, the new Party is united under the novel eaves of the world’s roof, until Celegorm, moron, reached for Bolton.
The Elf in him, doesn’t rest, and before it landed, Glor grabbed it, no harm, neither it was taken heed, but Celegorm was quicker with another and put it upon Bolton’s belly, flushed by a sudden touch. No, no baby. He had to be certain. Lyanna facepalmed. Glorfindel fumes, dreams to kill him, now, it will be fulfilled, for a little while, Elf was heedless that he just began a storm.

…Which befalls his bonehead!

*
The closest Monster Elf who ceased to live, nears as famed God Elf, One Ring will be aware he has come in here, then, confrontation has got to be met.
*
Mother Nature, you who birthed God that is great, please, look after our Mother Earth, Arda, the Grand Mother for all Ages, of all us.

Chapter 64: The Gift is yours to take

Chapter Text

Blackie sprang up, wagging, woofing and waving his ears like the whirlpool. Huan just stood there, Ramsay was thinking how to soften the situation that went out of control in the end. Because Celegorm is running for his life, Glorfindel is chasing after him and Lyanna chases after Glorfindel, it was the vicious circle from which you weren’t sure who is winning and who is losing, the only truth was that Celegorm was fast, like really fast when it comes to his life, Glorfindel is nevertheless catching up and Lyanna is spouting the nonsense which even Gods can’t figure out, there is just the task to save her husband to whom she has just got bonded for the love of Good! In the meantime, Blackie is growling, with a squeaking voice expressing woes.

- Calm down, Blackie, I am thinking! – the Princess’s voice is sundering the world. – LEAVE ALONE THE MAN I HAVE JUST MARRIED, BONDED MY BEING TO HIS, before he dies by your hand! – hearing this, Huan acknowledges. – Think faster and bend down or this isn’t going to end well. You have no idea who is competing more for the place of the ultimate idiot out there amidst the Elven realms and amongst the party of idiots, in too many places, can’t ever go brilliant. – I think, I think! And Blackie! Please, take it easy, little fellow, ease yourself, our Glor is not in danger, the other one is!

- I don’t believe he is, at all, woofing at Celegorm, but at the total event.

- And what would you do?! Oh, by the way, how do you like your granddaughter, what do you think of her? She made her Life and place among us, pretty good, if you ask me. – That is the point, Bolton, I do not ask your opinion, but yes, Ygritte is Omega and Ghost’s daughter, I knew that all of her young brood can’t ever be less, only more, even for the runt and excuse me. I am going to cut into their little skirmishes if you do not mind.

- Wait, wait! I have something! – What?! – Start howling, like you are announcing the peril!

- What?! I can’t ever start the false alert! – You may, go on! Or, Celegorm is going to be cooked! And…your Master maybe doesn’t like it, but…Glorfindel has a big appetite.

- My Master can stand the Fire, you idiot, his son can’t!

- I said boiled alive, not burned – a bee passes.

- On your mark, I start howling – while Blackie got spent from all this fighting the invisible enemy, flips again, ending silent and asleep. Bolton let him, for when Huan started his song, even the Nature halted whatever it was doing, and the birds, the animal world and all around the habitat’s blossoming gems, stood still in their places once again, just like when Glorfindel speaks of the memories and the fabled songs. It was throughout the forests, glades and vales, reverberating like the most beautiful Music of the Heavenly Skies.

To Huan, Bolton looked like the overgrown Hobbit, but he senses that he is able to lead his battles like a beast, be it bare handed or the weapon of the choice to be given to him. Glorfindel stopped his killing intent and Celegorm with Lyanna were happy that this finished the tale of Blood for Blood. It assuaged the Golden King who never was, of the North or in the Northern skylines, except for the High Knight, the Prince of Gondolin and the Sire of his own progeny, the Lord of the most prominent House of the Elven Heart, the household of Golden Flower that is housing the Home of the future Dragons. For petty reasons, they are even killing each other, when they are the walking magnificence. Huan finalized, and all three of them, went back to their both sides along the sleeping bundle of joy. The moment when the Nature continued its cycle of the living, for whoever hears the Howl, it stays remembered to this day. Nonetheless, for it is heard and listened only by those who wanted to know that someplace, when you in the youngest of the nightfall, catch a sound of the howling, you will recognize, it is Huan’s calling.

- Wow, Huan, you are imposing! – Thank you, Lord Glorfindel, anything will do. – Hey, whose idea this was?! Do not be shy! – Celegorm insisted. – It was of the human – Glor eyed Ramsay with a small smirk upon his gladdened face lines, the fairest when he truly smiles. – Is that so? How did you come up with that? – Bolton’s minds – both Elves exhales dramatically at this answer. - Hey, is the little one in a good health? Sorry to interrupt – Lyanna questioned worriedly, while scratching a bit the little guy who let out the enjoyable sound, nuzzling into her merry touch, making her smile at him, so sweet.

- Yes, just tired of life, from time to time, he will be more than fine. – I can see – she raises her head at Ramsay – you would be a great husband even to her, just as you are the Owner and Master – this caught him unprepared. Glorfindel chuckles, Celegorm stares, she winks at the puzzling face of Ramsay Bolton. – I have my Warg powers, secrets one or two.

- My Lady, if you allow, you are full of it, not just two or three. – You will be good to her, this time – eh, what the f*ck is that supposed to mean? Celegorm explained.

- She sees the Multiverse of Lives, this is her Warg power, and from all these possibilities, there is one probability that you are not in the specific parallel universe. How do you think she led us, me and Huan, all through the Magic of East?! Yes, we are her companions to protect, fight and guard, still, she is our Guide, not me or Huan, although we are both Hunters – for all said, Lyanna smiles in a mystery, her whole life is enshrouded by mysticism, that was for sure, and even the mystical forces surrounded her breathing, just as their…son!

At the end of the day, parents, all of them, can be proud of their children, they are not what they wanted them to be, or expected, but what they were necessary to turn into. Ramsay was just one of them, however, before he hoisted Blackie back into his secure arms, for it looked like he is feeling the best when Blackie rests in his hands, because the little heart loved to stroll, run after butterflies, bark at the Moon and play around far too much, pacing all the way to the obvious threats he ignores, in this way, he is safe and sound, though, fate had another plan when Celegorm, presently, when it was settled between him and Glorfindel, took a step to acknowledge the man who has just got his tiny doggie back where he belongs, to snuggle in warmth.

- Your weapon of choice is bow and arrow, right? Just like in Elves? – Yes, My Lord – he still keeps the adequate stance – in spite the fact that these are not just your weapons, for anyone can use it.

- No, no...you didn’t comprehend me. I said, like in Elves? You wield the elven weapons easily, like you are born with it, no? – wait a second, he turns his head toward the mysterious Glorfindel before again the glare settled upon Jon’s Father. The Real One, but Ned never ceased to be less, just More to Jon’s eyes, he noticed in Lyanna, her Jon, the son she gave birth, but it is now apparent that Jon is definitely Elf, the son of his elvish father. How can’t he be?! This kind of sincere behavior is characteristic for Jon, so, this is where he got it from. The birth father.

- How do you know? – You are naturally shielded, but I still read you. I am, what you call, Telepath. The only Men I can’t read are those who are of the strongest wills, you are still to hone yours. – Let me guess, Starks? – Yes, I can’t see into Starks because of the Will and their Warg powers, with difficulty. In the way I am reading your mind too, actually. You were taught since the day you learned to walk. Your…father caught sight of your talent and from that day, secretly, you were using our ways, isn’t that right?! – so, they knew…what Roose did to prolong the dynasty and among everything, he was a bastard son of Aragorn, of such a noble and knightly father, and look at him? Only to realize for himself, that not all is as it seems. His eyeballs in his sockets hurt him from all exasperations.

Lyanna shares a secret glance with her big brother, while Huan doesn’t talk much, only when it is necessary, Blackie stays for always tired, whilst lastly, Bolton is presented with the bow and arrows, something which Celegorm was carrying around on Huan’s back, well, his monstrous dogback definitely was hiding and shouldering much of the weight. He doesn’t mind, it is the good training. It was extra and there was no requirement for him to keep it, but gift to Ramsay Bolton who stayed speechless. Rarely he got presents and when he does, it is for all the time, just the practical necessities, this was something that came from the bottom of his black heart that is growing all the colors of the world. Painting it in good. No more eyeing, he feels the greater joy. Rather better than it is preferable…hazard still sneaks around, hidden.
*
And they all think, what kind of children are born to be the prey from these wombs and seeds.
*
We walk the two worlds, the perilous road upon the thin Ice…
*
But there are sayings of Old that keep us walking ahead…

“All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost; The old that is strong does not wither, Deep roots are not reached by the...Snow.

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.'
They do not walk…alone.

Chapter 65: The Old Fable

Chapter Text

Make what you own yours, it is the Creed of Elves. The same as respect for thrilling defiance they tame until it becomes a nuisance because of which obedience is rewarded. Unlike Light of the Wall that lets anyone who is invited or of blood along the bond… enter inside. Even the one who hungered for too much to bring you down, nonetheless you let him pass, the rest stays in history to the last. The untainted runes in Elder Days waned, before the downfall reached the tallest of mountain peaks, it was there, no more young, the silvering ranges are old and laid together in hordes.

When Lyanna grows fatigued, she would hop on the waiting Huan to carry his Lady outside the wellsprings of living spheres if it is necessary, later, she would walk alone, by foot, and the enchanting circle would be repeated. The closer, the more they all had to walk a longer path, evading Mordor, not much of their animal companions would be of use, for One Ring feels every disturbance and Celegorm, perhaps, not of potencies like the mighty Glorfindel, still, he was Feanorian of great power that could be sensed from unreachable and unattained Bastions of Eregion, Dark Kingdom of the Dark Lord. Of ash and cinder, Lord of the Dark built up his realm and there on his Iron throne, the truthful of all ones, he sits and dwells in his furnished halls of the cashmere.

- For how much longer? – Ramsay asks, the one who never complained in his entire life. This is the fact of which no one realized, only his father, Roose Bolton, for he would be a stoic warrior for everything you would cast upon the resilient Bolton, they weren’t for anything, the North’s mightiest folk, if not already the strongest. There is a saying, as long as there is a single Bolton that lives Behind the Wall, within its bulwarks, the Wall will stand.

They were one of the oldest nations, the civilization before the child could take a step, as young as the Old Sun and the oldest Moon, Boltons were the people who survived every odd. The Dwarves out of all, respected the name Bolton, and if they encounter some of them, they would be the most welcomed, hospitable received and friendly met, because of the Bolton, especially even if it isn’t the world’s famous Jon Snow, for the carved name is not your gold or silver, it is the memory that is set in stone and upon each carved Tree, you would have the name remembered to the youngest of newly days that are renewed.

- You do not feel weariness? – Celegorm questions, Glorfindel answers in his stead.

- He is Bolton.

- What does it matter? My Lord?
- You would find out soon.

- What is the meaning of it? – whenever Glorfindel would start to act strangely, both Blackie and Ramsay were braced, while Celegorm and Lyanna had still highly much to learn, but Huan understood. Being a Bolton is not the same as Stark, it is different, but it resonates powerfully. The Shadows were upon them, pacing once again, here and there, what the Hell was this? As Glorfindel swore, it was due in this way. Lyanna only now smells the stinking odor and her Prince admonished sorely himself for not noticing before.

- You couldn’t, Son of Feanor, Son of Finwe, as odd as it sounds, your senses are still too much young to perceive their own strength, this is the reason why nobody, yet, tried their powers on Eregion, for he is there who resides and holds…our lovely niece.

- The one you sold to him.

- She wasn’t sold, she was given as a gift. I am not such a Monster.

- Glor, nothing of this would be…

- It has to be. Do I regret? Yes. However, I couldn’t go against myself at that time and what I was feeling. If I didn’t do it, for my Gondolin, for my King, for my elven folks, for my excuses, for my darkening thrills, I would implode. I am not the one who dares God, but march against destiny or there wouldn’t be a change you covet. I followed Word of Eru, my obscured heart, I am his Revenge that befalls my being, for I never intended to return, yet, here I am, leaving not all to ones for whom Time has come a long time ago.

- You will atone – seizing his Elf hand in hers, holding, both beamed in warmness, together – but now, help us. Glorfindel of the Golden Flower – it was a very touching moment that is shared between the brother and sister, of birth or not, shouldering the suffering they have done to one another, carrying to their graves and complementing each other so. For that was what is fated as a Wolf of the dire bloodline. Before they knew it, the Shadows outlined, defined each of their devastating outlines.

By now, expected and prepared for them, but not what they ran into. Ramsay felt sick in his stomach all over again. Blackie is reading himself to transform while his Master is the strained arrow that is preparing to fire itself from the elven bow he clutched pressingly.

The Gift of Feanorian he will never give upon.

It made Celegorm very prideful and full of himself that one human, the Bolton is owned by his present, the human rival of Jon Snow, even though this wasn’t either place or time, no room for it, but Elves always find a way when nobody does, confronting what is to be battled altogether. Lyanna is unsheathing her Iron Great Sword, called Snow, by the side of her Winter brother who wields both the sword and the little short one, it is easier when both hands are occupied, handing over to her one of his elven daggers, for into each is embedded his will and power. Celegorm draws the first arrow, Ramsay followed the same. Huan was readied!

Ramsay wasn’t surprised for seeing that Lyanna fights too. Arya took after her, but the Beauty was all Sansa’s, but no one fostered such intellect as it was in Lady Stark, the fair mind of the Wheels which is spinning the tearful maelstrom of forgiveness when the hour arrives uninvited. Who will make the move? Glorfindel can fight even with empty hands, but this compelled the urgent matters at hand. Those were all Fakes of the Ones who carry the Bloodmoon and bring the Longest of all Days or long nights. The umbilical cords are torn apart. Ramsay has never seen something like this. So, they are brewed when the One Ring was given birth, they are remains of the Wills that are shattered, sealed in Doom, remaining to guard Eregion and its people.

- You infidels – it hisses, the speech was the black wording, in the Shadows, they are still shaded by olden Oak Trees, the tallest there are to be in existence – you shall go no further, not a soul passes us and in our response we exchange wisdoms, you do not have to need to live through our shadowing, for our voices hold the suffering you are going to suffer if you dare. The way we speak will annihilate your spirits. And what is body without the vessel that fills it? The Presences of ours are of Venom and Love. We are giving you a chance to turn your backs.

- You are doing it because I am in question, isn’t it so? Destroying you, we make the first step closer and Your Lord you serve won’t even smell it, the least to sensate, so at least, surrender for demise. Because you are extended limbs of One Ring of which its Master is unknowingly unaware – hissing louder at Glorfindel who eases the daring circ*mstances of theirs. – On my mark. Celegorm, use your mind and own them at arm’s length.

- They sound keen on ripping us to shreds – he complied by saying it, while Ramsay and Lyanna were the most disturbed, for they are, nevertheless, humans even if there are Huan and Blackie. – Calm your hearts. We are in need for your composed selves, so keep your composure. Stay close and do not think about it much! – Glorfindel ordered to both of them.

She is bracing to smite! Ramsay to fire secondborn arrows of the Elven Art and a crafted bow.
It is a cinch to him, but will it work? Blackie is the size of Huan now. Shadows are revealing the true dispositions of their beings. Not believing their eyes, for the creation of One Ring. He… He f*cking used…HOBBITS?! They are beyond disgusted. Once, even Gollum was a Hobbit that is perverted and corrupted by One Ring, as a matter of fact, on him…was experimented, but he ran away. And all the sneers and mockery that Ramsay Bolton resembles the overgrown Hobbit, is now the truth that haunts them in the incorporated, garbled shapes which embodied the reimagined living and once sentient beings, for it was taking the form of the twisting nature, given the human mold in all its goriness and gruesome truthfulness that was laid bare before their bloodcurdling and lurid irises. They dragged their grotesque souls that are chained to One Ring, if they would be freed, all the chords of the undead domain shall lastly exist in peace.
*
Too human, for the more you become human…One Ring corrupts good in you…that is the Power of Evil…no greater that ever was to live amid a walk.
*
The Unborn wrought the wondrous sounds that echoed… the Walls, once more...Elf – Men, who once go in, never go out, when Doors close behind so.

Chapter 66: My phantom Shadows

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In the aged Springs, give all of yourselves to the Ones who keep all of you to the inner beings. Most of the Times, we have a feel that the life we live, and must endure is not ours to be kept, it will be delivered to something else that is not of the world, it is of the outer space. When there are the strides of flouncing paces. Because Gods, no matter how you feel of oneself, envy the humanity, the simplest of the tasks which they forget upon the holy stairs of their ascendancy. Everyone yearns the greatness, when it is in the simple joys, where lays the magnificence. Often forgetting, even myself, that what makes human a human, is not the sense of being special, it is just being…yourself. In the Age that forgives nothing, in the Winters that never came, all what is needed is to follow what we lost on the way to the Rise, the hearts of being the human self. To please the Creator through whom we are bestowed with Spirits Within.

On the last of glimmers with hope, Great Angels in the image created that honors the name, in the name that swears upon the oath, and the promise was made, I will be your Power when all Powers are no more, no longer visible. When it is forbidden to know what you forsaken. It was this Blessed Incandescence which Glorfindel found within oneself to draw, intensified by magnificent Celegorm and given a blessing up above. The starlight is imbuing all the fell and all of them are crushed in opposition to each other. Glorfindel was smiting in cold blood, doing both defense and attack, protecting roughly, defending fiercely and loving to the bottoms of Seven Hells, such was the Love of Elves, always deeper, but humans feelings are each deep while Celegorm together with Ramsay was spreading strong arrows like hailing rains of the showering blessings from the supernal horizons that are kissing Mother Earth upon the fallen. Strayed ray of the newest sunrise passed through. Lyanna had similar movements alike Arya Stark, sharpened to be the survivor and whetted into the Warrior Queen of her own merit, whirling from above the wasted soil, she was striking without any flaw, for flawed she was not in both her assaulting and doing the right halt. Celegorm doesn’t need to worry about her, he did about Bolton, to whom this all too much.

Why?

He was…after all, the pure human, no immortality and he just lived up till now, with Glorfindel. He was fed, taken care of very good and sharply trained by his Lord who became his best comrade and Godfather, but…that is where it ends, for all the horrors in the Darkness are met just prior to the last sundown of the Space. Huan is enlarged and once again, Balrog is soaring out, pouncing together on the Shadow Legions of the Undead. There stood unbent.

Turned into Zombie like creatures, they were everywhere, assailing what grew to be…their grandest weakness that is supposed to be the upmost strength.
Ramsay Bolton who was pulled by Glorfindel back, he proved to all and showed himself in the greatest light, there is no more to do, but to withstand their psychological assault, placing him where he should have been safe and leaving there, just for a second, that was all what was needful, for that is where they were aiming for.

This is a snare ensnared, Glorfindel underestimated them and that is the first stride to your Fall of all downfalls because of which you would never become glorious to the world and beyond. It is why the best of the best fall. And after eons that will pass, your name will stand on the roof of the World, the tallest of all the laden boughs. Meantime, Ramsay was continuing to fight and goes through…not the lack of faith, but the crises of self – confidence, with every arrow, he was affirming that he doesn’t miss, no aim he can’t hit, for he was like no other before, after or ever to be now, the Bowman in Boltons, howsoever. Because of a reality, whom you have to be, you are what you are.

- Bolton – he was someplace, inward his head, it was spacious, he fears the most powerful fear ever, hopelessly, endlessly feeling the despair, for which there is no place, that is not him, it was his demons, he watches how it unravels in front of him.

- You are no one son’s rival! Bastard, bastard, hey Bastard…you see out there, that one is also Bastard, but he is Jon Snow, what you are?! You can’t rise higher than what you are…bastard! We know you are another Bastard! We found out!

- Hold your tongues in or I will have them! Removed and cleansed from your accursed caverns, in that way you will come to be purified! – he is enraging, and in a fit of fury, he took the stone and hit it hard upon one of the boys, that one…fell down, never to get up or wake. Boys ran away and Ramsay is left with the dead one to haunt him. He killed him. That was his first kill, it wasn’t ending on it. He found the boys, at that moment, for there is no stopping now. He is what he is, the first skin of his skinless masterpiece, was the eleven year old boy. Everyone who would see the handiwork, would know.

IT WAS BOLTON. That is their Creed. No mistake. The third one was found hanged on the tree. The whole year and the sleepless nights, everybody was trying to find out who did it. Roose covered it up. Ned Stark…knew. For his direwolf was still alive, Lyanna long ago lost hers, when it happened to him, never both got another ones, such is the bond you will one day occupy when you die, the body of your reincarnated Wolf, irreplaceable force of Starks, while poor Ben never got one till he reached adulthood, Queen of Queens, of all, thus a trophy was found in the secret cellar of Ramsay’s room by Dire’s snout, the pelt of the boy. Roose pleaded Ned Stark…why he lost it.

- Ned…please. – Or you will do it, or I will. We are both Fathers. Choose. – Kill me, instead.

- In the North, everyone answers for their deeds. If you sell someone to slavery, you meet your Maker, if you disobey the orders, you are punished, if you do not follow the Vow, you are decapitated and your head hangs from the spikes of our Walls, for everyone to admire and know, this is the North. Your little one is the Beast of all Beasts, if I let him grow, who knows then what he is going to grow into. – Give him a chance, do whatever you want, that is necessary with me!

- ROOSE! – Ned…I shall! Bring Parents, let them watch…

- I don’t understand?! What are you implying?! – You are not obliged to participate or attend. – I am the King, what are you talking about?! – I am going to cut off my boy’s testicl*…raw and alive, he is going to feel everything and be conscious, he won’t faint – Ned steps back, Roose… - I want him to live. This is the only way. Please, my King.

Roose Bolton bent the knee and dutifully, Ned looks away, backing out. Roose would cry after him, but he knew…the Pact was sealed. That night, horrifying for the 10 year old boy, for everyone who is of that age, reaches it, is held responsible for their actions, is being tortured beyond Hells by his own father, all for the sake of survival, he will never forget those words of Roose Bolton. Better me, than them. Let me do it and live my son, I forgive, if anyone will ever understand you, it is me.

After it, all is blank, he is left with just one ball. Sansa knew that day when Glorfindel took him by force, Elves who came in touch with him, were aware, he nearly bled to the death, and his agonizing cries, in writhing anguish, mollified the blood in parents’ eyes, now he is undergoing everything what their children suffered under his hands, even worse, though it was done while they were all unconscious, to the point Ramsay was tortured that even victims’s parents…forced to get on his good side, to make him stop, but Bolton never did, Ned was there to witness that Roose held onto his word. Ramsay never fainted, he was breathing in low shallows. Jerking all the way, down to his marrow, convulsing sorrowfully, before he is collected by his father and they went out for him to be treated. Ned turned as the duty calls to the Judges. It chilled icy bones.

- Your children knew no pain, he did. They were already dead when it was done, that is the mercy he imparted. He defended honor of his House.

What was left unsaid is this. Aren’t you had enough of blood?! Are we different or better from Dragons.
That day is remembered to this day, as if Elves forget ever…everyone knew the bitter truth while Roose cried terribly over his child’s harrowing experience, kissing his little beastly hands and praying to Eru, to give him the chance to live. Yes, he is Monster of all Monsters, wearing the human skin, but please, oh, please let him live and redeem. That lonely night, boy uttered barely. – I am alive.

- Hey, Bolton, Bolton, come back! Are you with us?! – he was in his golden Protector’s arms, opening his eyes slowly, grinning faces of relief and merriness for seeing him alive was something he thought he is never going to…experience, ever again. – Is it over? – Yes, all is good. Thanks to you, at the last second, you brought back your mind to your senses and you hit their Queen, Hobbits found peace, all thanks to you! – he smiles.

Finally, he was, as his father promised, redeemed. All was well, but what he reenacted and relived, is remaining in him. He couldn’t go on, before it was settled. He came…to the decision he knew he cannot, he mustn’t regret, feel no remorse. Sansa would grasp it more than anyone, before anyone else. He had to do it or he will burst within himself. He couldn’t carry on with his life, knowing what he did, it wasn’t right and no justice will ever purge his tainted light, but there is someone who can do it. Later on, when the encampment is established and everyone was peaceful in their dreamless states, save Celegorm, who keeps the Watch, for Elves rarely sleep with closed eyes, he sneaked in Glorfindel’s tent, finally alone, free, yet goes to him.
*
The single candle, lighted the way and insides. Unless apart from you, whisperings are welcome. Welcome, Dunedain of the Last Bloodline when Numenor fell, all was sundered so.

Chapter 67: I lay with the Devil

Chapter Text

Little Blackie woke up, no Master at his side, hey, he never left him alone unless there is some serious affair for him to attend, but even then, he would tell him what it is and out of all, finally, they are let alone by that Big Bad Elf and what he does, he smells he went in there? Hm, something is not right, oh well, he can go to sleep. As long as his Owner is alive and good, there is no obstacle he can’t survive. He returns to sleeping, only for his left leg to start twitching, damn all, twitching means no sleep. Hungry? How does he know if he is hungry? Owner always brings good food and nourishing water at the certain time, and he drinks and eats, he doesn’t know even if he can drink from the well or spring, why? Because he is not used to, he doesn’t know even to hunt, all Ramsay does for him.

Well, it is the time to do something for himself, not always do depend on others, right? Okay. How do you do this? He is tired, hungry and thirsty. Yes, he will ask Huan! Wait, how does he speak humanly? No, no need, he will by the mind, it is easier, because his Master doesn’t even require to understand him, yet, he always knows what he needs. Slowly, he approached the blazing bonfire by which Huan was tranquil, until the little plight decided to destroy his precious sleep. Lifting his head, he eyes the little one who wags his tail, watching him with that adoring beady eyes. It was like the gleaming in the darkest night, if you lose your way, you have the little one to light you roads and the black path.

- What do you want?! – Huan’s voice is stern, roaring and…unpleasant.

- I am hungry! – oh God, what a pitch! He was so pitchy in the head, oh, dear Eru!

- Go and get it something for yourself.

- I don’t know how! I don’t even know from where I can drink water. My Master provides me with everything, but he is busy! – Anywhere, where you find the clean and pure water, you first smell it and then drink, over there, you have one small creek, there are even some wild rabbits, go and catch them. Do not embarrass your Owner, he is the seasoned Hunter himself, didn’t he teach you anything?!

- He tells, I am his baby! – facepawed. Huan can’t trust his wits.

- Well, baby boy, it is time for you to become a man. Go and fetch it yourself. If you do not succeed, I will avail you. But at first, I want to see how you are going to fare.

- Okay! I will be back! – after some time he is, looking like he survived the war. – How do you look?! What happened to you?!

- One mission is accomplished, I drank, but when I wished to catch the bunny, the bunny attacked and I had to fight for my bare life! – You are the rare black direwolf of dire species, next to the dark grey ones, the hidden Balrog and you say one bunny did this to you?! – He was so big, meanie, nasty and strong and awful! – when he said this, it rang to Huan that this was the boy who had no idea of life! Well, he is going to teach him! – Allow me, for the next time, I have a very BIG feel that you are going to end as the hunted meal.

- Thank you so much! You are awesome! – his beady eyes gleamed alike flying saucers. And so, our Blackie was showed a lesson and two, after this, he may even snuggle with Huan, yeee, Master, have your fun, I have mine, meanwhile, Glorfindel didn’t trust what he hears, sees and among everything, the way it was proposed. It was, yes, all what he lusted for, but this? What the Hell?

- Glorfindel, My Lord…will you take me? Still, do not claim, neither lay your ownership over me. I need this, you above me, on my fours, on the stomach, from behind, purify me, like you did before. I am offering myself to you and yes, I know what I am asking, how it looks and what it means, but just this time. Bare and honest, your all – a whisper of the spring wind passed through both of them, to the amazement of all that went in and out, for he wasn’t sure what struck him. In him, the human heart now lives because of which he finally slept and dreamt his firstborn dreams and so, he thought this is it, but it was real. He lightly smirks his usual bright smile that sometimes was so fair, it is illuminating the dark world, giving off the aura of charismatic temptations, folding his arms over his muscled, covered chest to the misfortune of us all.

- I told you, you will reach for me – the alluring voice was of the Demon.

- I ask you, you won. I desire you in, on, unto and up me. I can’t fight it anymore. In the honor, I honored you. – And I told you too, it could be you in my Gondolin, no one knows what misses until it is done, yet you chose my Sansa and the North. Not me. – Please, just this time, no favor in between. You owe me that much. Just like when Elves touched trees and Ents are given life, sprouted the new life forms when the children of Kara, of specific dire bloodlines are shaped by your touch, for they were skeletons of White Walkers, hewn and no spirit to fill them in, then you all come and without you, all the Wolves would never branched out, as much as we do not wish you here, force you out, the more it is clear, we can’t live apart from your presences. – So, it all came down from the same source of all forces that moves the world and life. Original Pack of the Ancient Bloodmoon, together with the Primordial Mother of all Wolves, Kara. She was the Key to your survival against us.

Well, if Glorfindel existed during the First Bloodmoon, if you asked him, the humankind would never be as it is today, still free and roaming. It would be the victory of both Elves and all their close or distant kin. Under the Elven rule they would live and fall to their enchanted and tempting allure, for it isn’t easy to resist them, the less oppose. And all will be happy, there wouldn’t be complications, nor complexities. They wouldn’t know for better days.

- Unless, with us. I still feel in my guts, that your place is by our sides. Not what you choose.
- No child, that is Pact, cover me whole, my Glorfindel of the Golden Flower, with those your mother made the most use in the darkness where you are raised, so that in these darkening days…you are the dreaming Light we all are drawn to, bathe in your sunny basked ligthness, reaching out for your grace you shower upon the Sinless.

The Elf of Gold sighs out, he knows where this all led, oh, how it would suit him to live in his Gondolin, colored in their favors, enjoying all of offered.

- No – this left Ramsay baffled. – What?

- You heard me well, Ramsay. I am not a whor*. You wish for one? Go to some brothels, some similar to that of your Littlefinger that I have digested gladly, his sh*t went out through my back hole, but I am Elf Lord. I am Warrior of Gondolin, I sired my silver Princess, Daenerys Targaryen of Dragon House. I am the Father of Dragon Mother. I do not impart my graces upon someone whose beauty of human is fading.

- I…don’t understand you?! Isn’t this… - the auric voice speaks, disturbing him to the hollow bones.

- I break and tame, little human, I command freedom for my spoils, under my reign and unto the Law, do not ever but ever…delude yourself with the notion that you control me. I only allow as much as your leash is long. I bestow on you, on this fairy night, the night of freedom from my being and the first thing you do, is crawl to my side? Back where you belong, why is that? If that is your whim, I apologize, I do not fall for the simpletons, neither of my household, not my daughter and not my son. The Dark Prince of Targaryens. It is another thing what I had to do, to fit them in thoroughly, so that if my House falls, House of the Dragon forever stands. Daemon became the Great Uncle to his own sister and the two brothers, birth sons of Red Witch. I wanted all four of them to belong to my First Mate’s bloodline out of all. And I made sure not to cross over the dead bodies, for their secured futures. All I craved for is more children which are denied to me. Well, at least, I have got to be the Uncle to my two Great Nephews whose fathers are unknown by my formal wife Melisandre. Ah... Rhaegar and Viserys.
Dragon Queen would certainly be proud of him, the one who yearned to meet from the other side of Life, alas, that is just a dream, for now, isn’t it so?!

- Glorfindel, I beg you! What do you want more from me?! I bent the knee! – There is something you do not know of me. I don’t mate the broken dolls. I might even lose my priceless interest in you, if you keep goading me. Now, go back to your bed.

- I mean true, please, do not hold yourself so highly. Do not send me away! It is me…Ramsay Bolton. Don’t you remember? It is how you, in actual torments, broke myself!

In Glorfindel, something is stirred. Celegorm feels it too, but stays silent, let Lyanna rest and Huan with Blackie have their adventures. Yes, Ramsay broke himself to Glorfindel, now the asshole is sulking for he was all this time denied? Now, when it is offered, he denies? Like a little child, not a grown up man. Gondolin knight exhales heavily. If Ramsay would just see how much gorgeous Gondolin, the rebuilt up and rejuvenated one it is now, fairer than ever and prouder than it will ever become. Rising so high, with never knowing, what he is missing if he doesn’t try. But, this was it. Ramsay made his choice. He can’t be his, perhaps, he finds someone for his Harem along the way, you may never know. But Ramsay stays an unattained dream.

- Come here, boy. I see in you all what I dream. Come to me.
*
Telperion and Laurelin…the twin trees shone even brighter on the fairest day of each sphere, even there when no man belonged to the Fair,
still, it was present, it was…seen to those who knew where to look at.

With all odds…you remain my undreamed favorite.

Full, half or…else…it is all my blood.

Chapter 68: It is all around us and we do not see

Chapter Text

Elves do not forget, the North remembers, but did we forget? That we all once started as humans, just like Daemon Targaryen, by using human hearts, we became Elves. You resist, they tighten around you, you yield, they surrender to you all. In the high society of the extra dimensional life, the elven Targaryens are that with the fullblooded Elf parent who is original, although all are of Elf origins whose roots came down from the same Fountain of all the Life, this is just underlining the genesis of the child. Hall – breeds or mixed, all consists in Jon Snow that resulted in him, having all of human, even ears, except for the Dragon Spirit in which the human soul resides.

It is discovered that he is now able to go through fire for his people he took as his and they feel about him as one of their own. When Targaryens attacked during the Fake Bloodmoon, he had to hold on the Shield while all around him burned, the Fire didn’t even touch him. It is only much later figured out. Jon Snow doesn’t burn anymore, therefore, becoming the full form of Dragon. And to the last of blood that is not superior, it is the weakest when it is at the strongest point of life. First Men, Andals and Rhoynars, are the three Houses of Free Men through which even now flows all the immigrations of the First Settlers of the Dawn. The influence of the First Men is the most recognizably and strongly felt in the North, and the carved crying faces of the Heart Trees are their first imprint that stayed behind that they once lived.

What is the most interesting is that there are some of Tree Hearts even there in the Magic of the Far East found, the remainders, that the Northern people were forced to run to save their lives from the Fire of the Dragons, for all those who do not surrender, the Black Flames are all that awaited, from Dragon Lords and Ladies, whose Valyrian wisdom in secrecy and the forbidden knowledge never fall short of themselves who knew to sing to the sin and all what rests now from Old Valyria where all the Three breeds of Children to Dark Goddess Lilith lived, all what remains were memories of the Past life, how they fought, mingled and at last, the pure form of the purest bloodline, Targaryens came out as the final winners in life they LOST.

- You do not disappoint your Grand Mother and the Matriarch who created you, expecting that all is forgiven, for I am unforgiving and very soon, I come first for the North, to the Lost Son of mine humans took and lastly, for the House of the Dragon. All what I made, I HATE! DO YOU HEAR ME GOD! I DESPISE MY BLOOD! LET THEM ALL BURN! I WILL SEE TO IT! – and so on and on, Ungoliant’s time was nearing, the world held its breath and bided for the inevitable impact of hers she bestows to all.
Let her blood seethes, let it be brewed good, and then unleash the biblical tormented grief, for we will be prepared, until we are happy to see the short legs of Blackie who will stays the dwarf direwolf for all the time, but it bothered him less, it was more that he must come near to the bunny if he wants…for it to be his first prey he preyed on and…get him as his catch. Hm, whoever can stop Mother Nature not to take all in its hands when it comes the time that is reached for all the stakes of the dominions. Under the human skin they were, outer worlds sang from the stars they came down.

- Listen to how it breathes, make yourself invisible and… - Invisible?! – Blend in and stay quiet! – Now you are loud. – Ah, I am enclosed by idiots of all sorts and in the one place, that is not the good odds. I do not like them. – It is just one bunny! – Never mind!

- You know, I believe…I don’t want to eat it. – Wait, you must eat! – I am becoming a vegetarian. I eat grass – the level of evolution, either went wrong or to the other side. What the?! – Grass?! Where are you going to get your energy taken from?! – The Grass, of course! Look, it is yummy! – he munches. – You are a moron. I put all of my wits in you… and you do this! – It is just one bunny and you should try it, lots of vitamins, even proteins!

- Spare me, please! – he waits a bit. – You are really sustained by the grass? – Yep. All is good! – You are the miracle of the Nature! – Thank you, you are great too! – No, this was sarcasm.

- You are weird. – And you are not?! – Hey, let us be best friends! – I have no friends! I have Masters and Lords! – Now, you have got one friend too, do not lead the sad life and so, the better question is…why that tree, over there, cries? – Blood black tears of the Heart tree and you should learn human speech in the least. – I am learning…but…What does it do all the way down in here?! I am confused. – There is the Past that lives everywhere you go, in every corner, why would the East be different? Only the egoists would think that their culture is superior to others. – Well, people say, all started from Westeros.

- That is not true, who knows the whole, anyway? Not even Gods. – You believe that there were more Lives, not just this one? – Yes. The fullest cycles. I feel it, you do not smell it? You are a direwolf for goodness! – Not real. – Still, it is in your blood. You should know, well, if anything else, you are in advantage. – For the grass? – Yes, you do not need to hunt, just eat green… GREEN?! – What is it?!

- Tree is crying, it sees! Where there are no Trees, you are blind, but here, the tree… cries!

- Eh?! I heard that the Wall cries too when the great menace is arriving or in the need, or it is just symbolizing that something is going to happen, move or alike, and everyone has to step aside until it is over with its blackness that does disappear eventually, engulfing, but do not marring.

- No…no… you don’t get it! – Huan was simple, but wise, he retreats. – What!? – They were on to us, for all this time and…this is the cause why not even Glorfindel smelled them, they were hidden in high grass! Run, run! We have to hurry and warn our companions. – My legs are short! I am downsized! I am short-legged! – Turn into a bigger version of yourself!

- Right! – effortlessly he did so and both were running back. Meanwhile, the mating was underway. Ramsay was sweating underneath the large form of Elf, his big Lord, who firstly was taking him from the front, then the behind, he laid him with tenderness on the hard stomach, relaxing him, whispering to his ear. – Dance with me, can you do it? – Is that – he shudders into one of Glor’s burly arm that is covering him – a new art of making love to someone?

- Now you are learning, my little human – the husky voice that is enshrouded in the coated scent of sandalwood is permeating his primal sensations, overwhelmingly is imbuing him. – Someone taught you, too? – I had a great teacher. This is the Art of Dragons. I learned from them. He is one of the Dragons who decided his own path, to join ours of the First Elves. The firstborn to the Life, imagined, not reimagined like our brothers and sisters of the Targaryen purified bloodlines by all kinds of humanity, thanks to you – the gentle whisper went darker and it brought him to the initial org*sm, just by talk. He squeaks, oh, the small noises are always the step to the ultimate pleasure – we are healthy and untwisted. – You talk…about… your Swan Prince? – Of course, and shhh, now…you are being mated. – No child – Glorfindel put two fingers into Ramsay’s cavern, gagging it.

Pressing softly, with no harm, the tongue, he does what all Dragons do with their captured, willing or unwilling spoils, the penis gets thicker, elongating and finally, it goes through all the way, during the mating, down to the peak of where is the G – point, Glor pressed it and Ramsay starts squirming so violently that the wholly body weight is compressing him down, he screamed into Glorfindel’s bulky hand that is enwrapping his mouth and still holds the tongue protected, not to bite on. The full relish is too strong for human. Their tongues truly are, sometimes, the troubles they have to put up with for the sake of meaningfully led either life or conversing, always cautious not to stray to the extremes for which oddities all Elves harbored abound as well.
- It is all what you will be able to utter for today, and yes, no child, as promised, so it is silence – Ramsay’s mouth is ravaged by Glor’s tongue so.

Unexpectedly, all of his senses went up along the elven ears. Glorfindel was finished, pulling out and spraying all onto Ramsay, splashing him and smearing, marking him by the smell if not by anything else, it threatens to stay that way, prior to having Bolton swallow him, feeding him with his sem*n, let it adhere to his bloodstream and inner organs too. Hey, just because he isn’t claiming him, he will lay his trails behind, in the same way the Lord of Darkness is certainly doing to Lady, their Princess Sansa they are rescuing, because of her, basic foundations of all cultures are shaken to the outmost vital essences. After Ramsay was done, catching his breath, Glorfindel tucked him in, letting him sleep. In another tent is Lyanna. His sister.

Armored up, he went out to join Celegorm who was armed and ready, for they were compromised. The Hobbit Specters were the snare that truthfully ensnares. This was the evolved kind of Green Elves, the Third one and they are not nice. This is something they both had to do it on their own while Huan and Blackie were on their Watch. Staying on guard, watching over their precious humans. It paid off all that training for the Watcher, because Celegorm was more adept when it comes to the hunting grounds than Glorfindel. The menacing threat was nearby, both led it away from the camp site!
The nearing dark, we kept watch, adorned in golden chains and in the cage of iron. The Dragon helm is arrayed by the bat wings, we march upon death.
Distant or close, we are of elven kindred. Compared to Glorfindel, Feanor’s son is leaner, Great Hunter of Elves, a son of Emperor, coats tips in venom.
*
Taking the longer road, means avoiding the greater influence of One Ring that recognizes their auras, hence, distracting the cloaking presences that are lying in wait for the Ring, but never the lurking threats. Who would know that nurturing snakes in your bosom, hurt so well!
*
Hate us, we will bear the hatred in your eyes, but never leave us. If that makes you feel better.

Chapter 69: The Teacher and his Disciple

Chapter Text

This reminded Celegorm of collecting the debt, the short memory flowed. It was happening in Rohan, in the eastern kingdom of the Golden Seat, it was the Spring festival like in lots of other countries, Spring was the Start of something new and different, for everyone, it is another thing that you never know for whom and how, and such were the festivities where is cheer, food and song, all what we required in the darkling days. Alas, the King said to one of his own, that someone is waiting for him. The anointed knight, followed the King while being accompanied with the Gold Guards and here they are, in the clearing where the black hoods appeared from the shadows, like they were swallowing the dark. Inspiring a fear into a heart of him.

- You are condemned for killing one of Eldar (High Elves) of Valinor, Sindar (Grey) of Doriath and Nandor (Silvan or Wood) of stone, greenwoods and woodlands, there is even the rumor that you even finished off one of the Dark and Green. Your bloodlust must be stopped before you damn us all. He is all yours. Seize him – the hoods are down, revealing the Warrior Prince who came to collect him. Everything else I leave to imagination when they took him away. Not a word was heard, anymore, about the knight who became what the modern world would call…the serial killer who harvest the trophies of Elves.

Walking with the Warrior King, Celegorm also questioned, how far is Glorfindel ready to go. From afar he feels how even the little doggie got used to the golden Elf and seeks his warmth of sunshine that is missed yearningly. Heh, you can’t easily enter the defensive body that works for its host, but against the external stimulations when it comes to human, for the dogs it was easier always, they are loyal beasts, unlike humans who are volatile.

- And what did you do with him? Or better to ask, to his body? – he has got startled by the smirking giant next to him.

- Ah…well, what is the worst that can happen? He became our breeding mare. We do not waste a fine human blood, the most precious is when it is colored by hardships. What all them do not understand that it doesn’t matter from where you come from or of which house, what matters is the experience in blood, the harder the life, the blood is better. Especially those households of the warrior genes, are subjected mainly to our Reapers and Great Gold King of Rohan always paid well the tributes, just not one of his to be taken from their homes.

- Reapers? – The Hooded Men, the ones we sent to collect. – Ah, and I presume, you are one of them too, my Prince?
- My Lord, I did it all the time, collecting for my brothers and kindred kin, either sold or gifted, or I paid my own debts in such a way.
- My dear sister…knows?
- Well, she wouldn’t be with me…if I hadn’t changed?
- Still… - To me it sounds, you disapprove?

- No, but you know humans and their moral views, that is why I am…confused. She is Stark.

- She has changed too, she is altered by her own travels and experiences around us…especially when she lost our son she sacrificed to…

- You never thought having another child?
- I can’t have children…I am barren. Jon is our miracle. – Now, I see… you can’t seed?
- No. No longer, never could. We are out of our minds to lose him and yet, we know he is strong.
- Don’t worry. He will live or if he doesn’t…he will leave you a grandchild – with these words, Celegorm stops.
- We would take the child. It won’t be raised amongst humans, it would have been taught our ways, of the Elvenkings and Elf Lords, it should tread my path, not the one of Ned Stark! – Glorfindel’s back are turned to him, he watches such broadness without a blink.

- You are not the ones who has got a say or to choose. It doesn’t depend on you. Your Father has spoken and you believe that North will give up on Jon’s child. You are gravely mistaken, the blood will be shed.

- You think I care? I would stop at nothing. You don’t know me.

- Oh, but I do know you – Glorfindel turns to the Prince – you are a Feanorian. Do not underestimate me, Young one. First, think what she wants and what she would deem about your vile intentions, that even she can’t forgive. Even when I brought harm to the Stark family of mine along all other families who suffered and you would strip them of the little joy they have left? Are you even listening to yourself? You opine that you know?! Even I am not that cruel! Celegorm. Yes, I will commit the most atrocities, name it, I will do it, but when it comes to the feelings, bonds and connections, you know NOTHING. The Father of Jon Snow – it struck more Glorfindel than Celegorm by saying this, inadvertently, where he realized that the apple surely doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Both are the same.
Celegorm was Jon’s in all bloodlines and birthrights. Both thought similarly, their tied courses of flows, how it every string connects to the synapse of another, they looked alike and resembled each other more than any would ever admit, in the way of speech and not only a bearing. Ned Stark is Jon’s spiritual father, but this was…the Father. It is another thing that Jon doesn’t want to let go of his human side, that is why he holds on the hanging thread, not because he hates Celegorm…Jon loved his birth father unfathomably, yet, he will never utter it. He feels his life as his own now and if anything happens to Celegorm or the mother, it leads to madness and that is Wave no one can stop. Yes, Jon is aware that his mother lives and yet he avoids the unavoidable to accept that he is the Elf.

To Jon and Celegorm, conquering is the same as the glory, but he learned the hard way, oh…he did. The Conquest you bring to your homeland is nothing but the DEBT you are going to pay back. Jon and Celegorm were the same in all their rights and inhuman births. No different than anyone of the elven blood in them. Seeing it much more clearly than ever before it was possible. Ah, he was selfish and unjust to Celegorm, putting a hand on him.

- I apologize. I didn’t know… - No, it is all right. My son is an idiot…he thinks with heart, I am not different. – I believe…that Queen Catelyn is wise, she would bring the good decision that benefits both sides and at the same time, it makes the strong alliances. – That is why my Father did what he did…without anyone’s consent. – Sometimes – he squeezes Elf’s shoulders – such are parents. Do not know the best, just do the worst.

It made Celegorm laugh for a little, yes, doing everything against your better self, that was the creed of anyone who lost their ways, he thanked to Glor.

- Thank you. Our Father always warned us of you, but…you are a good guy. Then, why are you so…hard to play? – Me!? I do not have an issue with anyone, you are the ones who are envious and fear me! I love to chat, eat with others and be sociable, all right, catch a human or two for my still non – existent harem, still I am all goody Elf! – now, it was Celegorm’s turn to look at Glor as an Owl.

Yes…they envied Glorfindel. There was no Elf on this planet who wouldn’t envy Glorfindel of the Golden Flower.

The one on the bottom, who soared higher than any Elf King, on par with the Emperor of the worlds.
How is that even…feasible?
Well, it was achievable by the one who bends your will to his, and together being bound to the Will of the one who never gives up.
- You are born with everything, me? Well, I was a slave to the First Dark Lord and guess again, I thought of killing myself, if you deceive yourself that I was every day…glory and name, you are very mistaken. I could never know what I had become until it happened, my fate met me when I was ready even though I didn’t feel that way.

- But, how did you know that the path you have walked…even if it is besmeared by Fire and Blood…and now even Iron, how you were sure, hey, this is it, this is the right road I walk!? – Oh, that is easy! I don’t require a philosopher for that question to be answered, my dearest Prince. You know it is right when you reckon, I can’t take it, that is when you now, when it is so hard, beyond your dreaming, that is when you are certain this is a right one.

Just like that, the qualms, like they never were alive or breathed in him, for Glorfindel noticed that something is eating him, but if you do for somebody what makes everyone happy, how can it be wrong? It is hard just because you are doing the right thing and the Life loves to torture those who give up and reward the ones who never strayed from their convictions. Without mother and Yellow flowers with which she fed him in the darkest of their lives, which she found how they bloom even in the most inhospitable terrains, he would never be Glorfindel of the Golden Flower. It is very difficult when you go through life alone, but even if that is so, there is no one to back you up, God does, that was always his Creed. Celegorm watches at a Northman.
*
The undoubted naivety, no distinction between the two…

Chapter 70: Primeval spirits inly

Chapter Text

All I knew was darkness, my first day was the dark, everything is light in the beginning, for me it was the birth to the shadows in where I grew up, we were free for some time, but then we are recaptured and once again, I was led with my mother in the enthralled rows and once more, I MET my best friend, into which I was born, hello darkness, my old friend. Forged by the same shadow and carved out from an inflamed will.

My name is Glorfindel.

From my name, you shiver, from my existence, you become the craven. In my presence you smelt from afar, you run for your life. God who challenges Emperor. The only, due to the Pact to unite all Elf kingdoms independently, under the same sky, we became best friends, comrades and brothers, Godfathers to the new age that we bring to us, leading to the all - time reshaped life we live at present. You are stuck with me beauties for all the times.

And the question remains, who will be the King of all Kings of mortal men? The one who draws the fabled Excalibur? It is yet to be seen. Discovering the next was on the Third Kind of the Greens.

Immersed in their own thoughts, both saw what they are eating. Weren’t of the vampire or cannibalistic tendencies, it was something else, pulling the Tree roots and severing them so that they could feed it to their children who are becoming notoriously greenish just like the grass.

Wait, they were followed by the Children of the Grass? They were never to be attacked or something endangers them? It is obvious that these Greens are the young species of Elves, they are yet to learn about their place in this world, and nothing could come up to both minds!

- You want to speak with them, My Lord? – Celegorm didn’t need to be reminded, neither he ever does require the reminding, how Glorfindel’s being simply demands the authoritative reverence he was giving out.

- We have to figure out what is going on. I was certain that they are going to assail us, and now, it seems, that all what we were assuming is that we have been followed by their children who led us here? For what point? It is pointless. I see nothing but…the people who just live their lives, unless they are threatened like the rest of us by the annihilation.

- You are afraid that you won’t be able to speak their language?

- We have to try, there is the reason why we are here and lured into their nesting place, I am going first – upon seeing and smelling him, the Third kind of the Greens didn’t leap to assault, but already prepared meshed nets and iron webs, whirling around him to catch him in the trap. He smirks, so, they respond to the hybrid blood in him, the human. He sensed that they by now raided some villages, for it was in elven blood, but those were emptied by Dragons, exodus or something third made them vanish, so, these are mostly just Greens in there, no captured human beings, some captives that are held in captivity, any of the humanity, which means, they made the right choice by not bringing theirs with them.

- Hello, my name is Glorfindel and you are? Do you understand elven speech? – out of fear, they dropped what they were doing and just one of their own, approached stealthy a bigger male who was robust in the chest, but slender around the chiseled waistline. Celegorm stays hidden. Lying in the wait by hunter instincts of stealth.

- The night is old, but there are stars that shine our lives, the newest morn is coming while the Moonshine is leaving us for another eventide – it was the simple choice of words, yes, they are just getting matured as the species. – We smell human in you and on you – ah yes, they are smelling the mating session. Look at them, they are more than befitting to struggles which evolved Elves to survive, being drawn to his daybreak, these, are going to make it, by not taking lives.

He caught sight of the dark lake. Listened to the tales of the Mirrormere and its legends. It could be confirmed, for some of the aged conifers looked like something or someone passed in between them by the sheer force and it all leads to the Mirrormere, the giant lake of all lakes, it is the myth that if you look at it, you are going to see your future. Reading enough of the Nature, he stepped back, he doesn’t want to know and yet, Celegorm relies on him now when he got near, only then, they let go of hostility against him. It is interesting, this is for the first time to see this moving lake and at the first contact, in all his living, he knew exactly what it was just by laying his eyes on it. Stupendous. You never know when it shall reappear afresh or where?!

- That lake over there, is it causing your troubles? It is covering the main proportion of your lands.

- Yes, Big Elf – this nearly made him laugh, he was about to burst, but he controlled himself, yes, he is the atypical specimen of his breed, however, it only made him proud, he loved his body more than the golden mane, it gives the pleasure and it is pleasured, ah, Ramsay tasted so good.

- Something, at night, crawls out, we are on our trees and we permit it to pass by, we do not meddle in – so, this is what it was and for what it is. He will be in need for the aid he plans to find in the elven Prince. For the Son of the Elf Emperor, of all the elvish worlds and Empire’s realms, is more than capable to do what he intends to ask of him without any qualm. – Stay assured, hide yourselves and we are going to take care of it.

- We?

- Me and my companion… - before he could take his leave, he is halted. The Green Elf is in front of him. He feels no fear, yet, he got aggravated, controlling his mood.

- Where are humans? Where did they fade away? Do you know someone or others who live in the Far East? It doesn’t matter how much far, we are going to find and get them to keep for selves. We need mating partners to produce further. Our blood is mighty, but it is also thin, we need the blood of human to be claimed too, to cleanse ours. – In the East… human beings are no longer available, isn’t that so?

- Not even a glimpse. What happened? There were even, we harked, some little villages, even they are gone, all what is left is… we of the Lore Folk. We would never harm, just borrow – yes, borrowing…willing or by the force, meant never to return, if not anyhow, just take when humankind is the least expecting, that wouldn’t be any life, but pressured to flee from being seized and coerced into the run to save their blood from being owned, he knows the best how it goes more than any Elf, sicker than ever he was in his constricted entrails, visceral feelings are besmirching his glare he controls, for they are the kin as well - and in turn, we provide protection, under our care, but the only who are living here are those we can’t ever reach, of the Citadel. Everyone vanished behind its ramparts, why is that?! – Glorfindel exhales sadly.

- I do not deny you of anything and I regard your concerns, but this is how it is. This is all our fault. But, there is something that I can give you, here – taking something out of his pockets, damn, these pockets were of Magician and in the little black box which they opened, were the stacks of tissues…human ones.

- You may cultivate your respective human breeds. It will take time, but…do not treat them as slaves, behave toward them equally and act kindly, in exchange for the shared life.

- Sire, thank you so much, but then, you are losing…

- We are not still…in despair, and wait for their numbers to grow and multiply.

They heed his words, never to see him anew, until the hour calls, cautiously, wary of the murky waters of the dark lake which became mudded when it is neared, he gathered his strength and looked at it, giving the stealthy sign to Celegorm from his hiding spot who is discerning it rightly, and now, all what the two are doing is waiting patiently, for the patience with the Elves is nothing compared to everyone else, it is just the blink in the eternity they breathe out, overall, Celegorm overheard, of course, read something of Glor what he was able to catch on, damn, the man is impenetrable Bastion!

Whiles what Glorfindel spotted is something that impelled him to look away. Pressing him around a lone soul even when he is around people, warming him, about the withdrawn heart. This is what it means to be...happy? Feel it. And without any word, he stripped himself of the elvish raiment, diving into shiny coldness his Elf eyes see, where at once he is met by the searing monster that assailed him as much as it is besieging for all this time the Third Kind of Greens, its tendrils pulled him all the way down, bubbles of forceful breathing alerted Celegorm who flexed the elfin arrow into which is magic and the Will embedded like in other tools, weapons or objects of theirs, as well as, coated tips in the darkest of the toxins which would slay even the Great Dragons if they are of the daring backbone for far too much, this was the present of Feanorians.

The long stem of the deadly shot is strained. Biding the time, and finally, the Beastly Dagon reappeared, above its gigantic head was the Monster Elf, and this was one f*cking God Fish that grew the limbs! It shook and thrashed Glorindel who mounted it, there weren’t any children of it, for this was the abomination of the Far East and its Magical properties, this is the Magic of the Far East, and if they keep it alive, its darkness will drain the lake along all what still lives here. This was the black plague that it carried in its gills, the disreputable Greyscale.

Yes, radioactive features melded into the sickness of internal organs. Greens survived by evolution, while Glor for he was the Clown Elf, he got more luck that finds him, meets him and is being attracted to him for his boldness. Suppressing it, without oppression up until it wasn’t subdued completely and the ravenous shrieks are no longer. Celegorm hit it in the eye and in the gruesomely manner, felled.

Leaving Glorfindel to creep on the surface, Celegorm pulled him onto the dry land, while both watched how Greyscale melted away, and Mirrormere returned its previous sheen and a smoothed flair. After recovering, helping one another, both went back to theirs, time came to proceed.

For the oddities that are born out of the Dark Lake, for now, are assuaged and pacified. Learning to live in harmony with their surroundings.
Whilst copulating between Dragons was never enough, just like it is with Elves, in all forms they need the human blood to procreate and prolong their lives so. Because, whatever you hunt for the clothes or food, even medicine, it is always the best when you know what you consume, the same were the Greens!

Chapter 71: Jon Snow and his Pack of Northmen

Chapter Text

Stolen life is anyone to whom I call myself the Conqueror, for I conquered the worlds beyond, now is the time for my continuing story and my Pack. For Tauriel led us very far, but cunningly, there was no requirement for us to hide in the broad daylight or to sleep too much during the evening, it was like she guided us straight with no dangers to face them. Clever. The more I knew her, the more I became vain that she is with us. Our Elf along Haldir who instructed to the last detail how you should cross this river or the smallest brook, because every dent hid its perils, and each predicament made them stronger and smarter. Nevertheless. I have to ask, unlike Elves to whom I belong too, I was a very much human and my impatience was very plain.

- Tauriel, are we there? – Yes, my King, you see that turn? – Yes? – It is going to reveal it. – To reveal us what?! – You will see – she grins at Jon.

Everyone was breathing in the slow shallows upon seeing what was spreading before their amazed irises. It was a Dwarf kingdom Under the Mountain carved, and Tauriel’s pride held no match, she left them alone to admire the beauty and the skill of her husband’s kin while Haldir stood by her side and together with She – Elf, was noticing how the changes upon the faces of mainly Men, and it was obvious, are altering their insights of The Far East.

- Perception is changeable. Isn’t it, my kindred sister? – Yes, Haldir, look at them, for how long they haven’t seen something similar to the human hand and yet, to be hospitable? – You are right, as always. At first, it was passing through the Magic of East, now, we cross even deeper, this is the Far East of the Elven Realms! – Exactly, it is time to wake them up from their stupor – it be so. Taking them even further into the fatherland of the Dwarves. At the First Gate they were to pass, the company of Jon Snow are stopped. If they pass through the First, any other will open for them. The Dwarves hid behind their carven and steely walls, under their pillared roofs, but never in the holes similarly to Hobbits, no, they are spiteful and stoic people. If you cross them, you pay with life. Recognizing Tauriel, they promptly were making the pass for her, when suddenly, they stopped their intentions.

- Who interrupts?! Who is here? Who is it...sister Tauriel?! – as soon as you are married to one of them, you are one with Dwarves, it warms even the iciest of the hearts. – Thaw your hostility, and look, this is the Fellowship of Jon Snow! The King in the North! One and only! – the introduction was becoming of any Great King and she did it flawlessly, every stone didn’t stay unturned, and the wells were tasted so well. Guard Dwarves stood mute…Jon… - The one who moves the WALL?!

- Yes, that is him, and this is his Elf, Hand of the King, Haldir of Lorien and the rest of the…family – she playfully beams, didn’t know how to explain. – It is one big…family of his. – Yes, it is and so, would you let us through? I brought to your Doors…none other than… JON SNOW! Behold!

- Yeah, yeah, we would distinguish that beard from distances and the posture, he resembles Ned Stark, if it were Eddard, there would be no qualm, but this is…also Targaryen and you understand our… suspicions – she rolls her eyes, telling them – they are there, standing, hungry and fatigued, and cold! – They are used to it, cold does nothing to Wolves for we, firstly, must confer among selves, it is the foremost. – Do your duty then. Quick, the King doesn’t wait, you are unfair to them. – Well, this King shall wait and his…big company, like the warlike party for the Blood and Fire, if you ask me. – Please, behave and we wait, but until it is done…I prefer my message to be sent to my husband, Kili, King’s nephew and then we shall see how the consulting goes by.

- You know, when we rethink our intents, they may pass. – You sure? I do not wish to make any inconveniences to you, my fellow countrymen – Dwarves stayed confounded, this was the game of wits, so Guards gathered into one thick circle while glimpsing occasionally at the situation, drawing back their heads to reconsider the bumpy events which greeted them on the First Day of the arrived Spring, the one that was awaited like the small drop water on the open palm. The captain, grouchily, came face to face with Daughter of Greenwoods. – We beheld what has taken place, it was from faraway extents, Black Flames were eating, badly indistinguishable, then it stopped. It is hard for you – alluded to her Forests, which are greatly taken care of by Mother Nature right now.

- Dragons, they burned it to the grounds. And you know what it means…a Dragon in our…burrows – she kneels in front of them, to make herself comfortable for them, at the level of their eyes, while Jon and others by now got suspicious. – He is different. This is Jon Snow. He is Dragon, but he is not the Dragon. – Hm, scales or not, Dragon is Dragon and…what if he starts to nest in our gold and silver. Dragons do that – he speaks to one and looks at another and the whole bunch of them, acceded the assessment. She facepalms, Dwarves, the headstrong folk they are, not even the most poisonous venom can’t ever cut through any profounder that the rock’s steel, their skins are invulnerable. – He was never into riches and wealth. – It is the Dragon’s sickness. If he sees all our opulence, the illness will take over him that is already sowed in his blood and…it is going to grow until he doesn’t fall for our luxuries! – Ah, save me from Dwarven idiocy! – What was that?! It is was your tongue! – Nothing, nothing.
Hm, how to persuade them. Yes, he has to assure them that he is human first! She gestured Jon to come closer, like all else, he is confused, yet did it so.

- I apologize, please, Jon…show them your ears! – it never struck him…oh, that is the problem…he is Elf…of Targaryen dynasty. – No worries, Tauriel – with no complaint, King of the North uncovers ears for all Dwarves to rally around him to make a good evaluation, later on, they consulted among each other one more time. Just like Tauriel, Jon is getting agitated. – Is my lineage such a problem? – To Dwarves, Dragons are the most unwelcome folk among their burrows. You will have to forgive them. They suffered a lot to get their kingdom back from the certain Dragon and I hope you…understand.

- Yes, it is not me, but like I said, the race. – Dwarves are not racists, they are scared. – This is how racism starts. – Give them a break. – Do I need nonstop to attest that I mean no harm?!

- Jon, their hurts cut them deep – oh, she is competent of lowering her subtleties.

- Well, mine are even longer than theirs. I just wish a haven and some food for my people who are ready to pay, we didn’t go on this Great Journey of ours, empty, and to add that even Legolas was more than generous and didn’t have to. Except for any companions we may ride, it would be unfeasible anyway with horses to go through steep paths, rocky roads or hollow pits. – They warn amongst the Firsts, One Ring of anyone’s presence, the closer you got, it shall prove to be harder.

- I know. – Stop glowering, you are scaring them, Jon Snow! You are not helping me here! Smile, be friendly and…

- Is this enough of smile – when he did it, it was the horror. – Just go back to the way you bore yourself.

- Thank you very much.

When they went on, no one expected that their horses and North riding fellows would have got to be freed to roam around, in this way, a course of the fate did it in their stead and it is a good thing there weren’t much as it is in Robb, abundance of the varied breeds of the accompanying animals or there would be a trouble. Hm, Jon always thought how horses are ruined for him, but now, it was the Luck on their side that even if it seems difficult, hurtful and inconceivable, it is was for the best. And now, these little people are antagonizing him! Tauriel warned him to shield his thoughts, even she can hear him from the farther lengths.
Dwarves can’t read the minds of others, but assuredly they read the body languages better than anyone else. Ah, Dragons.

- We consulted between one another and you may pass, but…Jon Snow, bind your mane up, however you want, we must show off your ears, in this way we calm all others. Forgive us for inconveniences we put you through. – No, you are not sorry. You enjoy it – Tauriel, in a rush, slapped him on the stonelike shoulder, almost breaking her hand on him! – What was that supposed to mean?! I felt that! – Just behave! Ouch!

- Hey, are you all right, did my…body hurt you?! – Just… do what they say. I implore you. Jon. You are too powerful for them. Understand! – so, this is how it is going to be from now on, the prophecy was true, the more power he gets, the more people would fear him. It wasn’t enough that he proves every single time that he is human too, but now also, he is not the menace to anyone. Seeing the distress of Tauriel, the Hand of the King wished to intervene when Jaime stopped him, waving his head, let it be. Tauriel still fought with the discomfort, no matter how much she eased her hand, there was no use, until Jon touched her, his black eyes beseeched her to allow him, and she did, his eyes were mesmerizing, just like…in the Dragon’s glare that petrify you with their look, feeling already comforting, not subduing, warmness engulfs her. He was healing her.

Elves can heal Elves, not selves, just by Elf remedies or other peoples unless they are not of the healing breed like Tauriel. So, his pack was by then, aware of this ability of his too? Hm, just how many secrets you hide from us, Jon Snow. He smiles heartily at She – Elf who got ruddy cheeks because of him. His overly manliness even is effecting her, but she is of the stronger Will than the rest of the female gender. Truly, who is manipulating whom in here?! She broke from his release, while little Dragon Lady and the silver Princess of Lions is giggling with Ygritte to whom this was all amusing to watch. This was, in fact, Jon’s secret, this is how he affects all people, unwittingly. Nevertheless, Pack joined in their King and Guide who stays in awe.

No shame when any of us fall to the charm of Dragon even if it is temporarily. For the first time, Tauriel grasps, why Dwarves do not trust any of Elves.

Especially not if they are of the Dragon kind, and of course, there was the Bolton amidst their ranks, with the Men of his own, but even that Name or the smell didn’t help it for the easy passage. Why? Dragons instilled the great dread in each Dwarf heart, but, as obstinate as Dwarves are, they would rather and preferable die out to the last than ever bend to anyone, singing songs and sheering whiles reassembling for the next round of Fire and Blood!
The famous name, not simply being in your skin. Dwarves were reassured, tracking every step, even dutifully with the speck of their great fear for Tauriel, but then, they were convinced to completely let them in their grander and snug abodes. Surviving and preserving proves to be the Devil’s work.
*
All Gates opened for them to pass. Fear my name, not me… Blaring of Mountain Horns and the silence welcomes me.

God, I entreat you, give me the strength to endure, and the patience to understand. Gift me the Power to be a Man.

Chapter 72: Delivered and served, the torches are lighted

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He was reckoned as Bastard his whole life because he was adopted into the House of the Dragon, behind his back, he never looked back to their envy, it all stopped when he got married to the High Queen of Holy Land who legitimized herself too, thus becoming the Great Queen of Dragonstone, his Princess Marge of Starks. And all those Lords, High and Great, including Ladies, Queens and Princesses could only be bent to her Will, except for the Dragon Queen or the Great Queen of all Targaryens, or simply just the Queen of theirs who never can become the Empress as all of them dream. There will be no other Empress alongside the late Eowyn. Not even Undying Lands do not seem so Undying when it comes to the mortal humanity they covet. Nonetheless, the blood of father and mother, made her indomitable.

And yet, the secret remains to the small group of people who kept their Watch as long as it matters, for there is Elf who will fail, let us down, no matter the despair, either succeed or die trying, but there is no Elf who betrays Glorfindel or Dragon House, nor discloses how his son he chose to keep for self, to lead both Houses someday, got infused to the elven blood of his Sire who sired him by adoption and integration into the Dragon society which rather helped him now to follow by a large number of birdies to inform him of Bastard he highly admire alongside his brother whom he favors most. Robb Stark, the only human who dares to look him in the eye with no fear, staying alive. Hm, it would be marvelous if he could bring him to their side, moving closer to the tie, hm, one day…Robb Stark, that day will come, his irises turns into the Dragon’s eyes. And someplace, into the Lonely Heights, Under the Mountain, the dwarven kingdom welcomed King and His Pack.

All the while Thorin was both honored and…distressed. From miles, the first step Jon made, smelt of the Dragon in his blood. Hm, he remembers what they always say. Let the blood flow, in the best way is to be born, therefore, no stillborn or malformed, or both. They heard a great deal about them, specially about Great Elephants and their Grand sires with whom they broke Gondolin, now, they are grazing somewhere for the kept word is fulfilled, so that they found their new haven. Balin informed him during the meeting, at first, he couldn’t believe what he hears, only for it to become the truth, halting with everything they were speaking, going out to greet him along the rest of his company. Wise Balin still warned him, Dwalin and his nephews.

- Speak to him as you would to anyone who is equal to you in your status and name.

- I have nothing but admiration and deep respect to harbor for this man, but…look at him, the way he walks, looks and even lives…Dragon, is all I can see.

- You may speak whatever you like or how you like to anyone else, but this is Jon Snow. He won’t take your sh*t and…this is the good opportunity to gain alliances with the North, there are fine Houses too, just one rings the best, Bolton and…Lannister, Tarth who are the long standing vassals of the House of Baratheon. Just…think about it. It would do us good. You do not want Jon Snow for your enemy and you saw what he could do. Do not wake a Dragon that lives inly.

Dwalin, the most loyal and strong Dwarf out of all beside Kili and Fili who also listened to what Balin has to say, stayed silent, for the better, or worse.

- Numerous wanted you to fall and innumerable of them, are now at your feet! The Son of Wolves! The Son of the North King and the Son of none other than Eddard Ned Stark, the Great King in the North, the Last human ruler of the Wall in the rows unceasing until now – Thorin’s voice reverberates the Halls of magnificent Erebor. Dwarves joined, accompanied and followed the cheer. For a moment, for he didn’t expect it, alongside all his people, a notion warms his heart, because this is how it is when you are both taken in as theirs and he accepts them as his own being, Jon falters upon mentioning of Ned, that name and the son in the same sentence always does it for him. Always…will. For the first time, Thorin, perhaps, unintentionally, received him with more honor than any other ever will, putting aside his unsightly grudge of which everyone is aware, and how could you forget?!

Giving him without bearing any ill will…the esteem he deserved with the rest of what and who is his while Ygritte stays in her wolf form just in case, she trusts Dwarves, but… not Jon’s temper. Upon coming to Thorin’s throne. The Dwarf King stepped down and slightly nodded, in the same way that Jon greets him.

- Welcome, this is beyond any favor we could be ever graced by Your Grace, Jon Snow, and let me introduce you with… – he wanted, but it wasn’t destined.

- Tauriel! You came back, oh, I am so glad you are finally back to me, here in our Erebor! – Kili and thrilled Tauriel kissed in front of everyone. It was the sight to see and hear all, Dwarves among selves snickered, Jon was feeling awkward, because…what this means? Isn’t she theirs now? If she still holds connections, how she is going to…move on!? Ah yes, she told it herself, it is just for some time, not always, but still, he couldn’t help it, he got jealous over her, not as a man for a woman, but because Prince Kili just made it clear to him that she comes with them, but not returning to the North, but where she belongs, to her husband’s side and it isn’t like Thorin didn’t notice it, this is why unnerved Balin WARNED. Yet, it was the same like you told to a frog not to jump INTO THE WATER!
- Kili, please, a little bit of decency in front of another King.

- This is my wife!

- Kili, this isn’t the place nor time.

- All right and…all glory and fame to you, Jon Snow, let the luck follows you wherever you go – he bends the knee, Jon wasn’t impressed at all.

- If this is how you test anyone’s good mood, you are doing the excellent job – Kili smirks to himself, yes, on purpose, he did goad just a bit Jon Snow, because he is all so high and mighty, and his playful side got the better of him, albeit Tauriel could only cast a glance and sigh out.

Men, they will never change. Suddenly, Kili noticed, grabbing her hand, it was harmed! Who did this!? It is healed and all but the dent will stay on her.

- Who marred you!? – riling himself up, his blood got the best of him, anew. – YOU! I feel it was you, Jon Snow! Is this how you return gratitude, next time…, no, there won’t be next time… I am going to kill you! – he unsheathes his sword, falling onto Jon who firstly dodged and blocked the attack, what ensued next, was what no one dreamed, the battle between Jon Snow and one of the best swordsmen of the Dwarves, in both bow and dexterity of which even he surprised Jon by the mastery of the sword.

To Jon’s Pack, it was like every usual day, there is no day if he doesn’t cross swords with someone, either with them or someone else. To Dwarves, this was the humiliating moment, they are the finest Hosts and this is unbecoming of…ah, never mind. To no avail.

- I did it to myself! On impulse! Kili, stop it! – what made it worse and who was in the most dismayed position was Tauriel, Jon’s group felt for her, while Dwarves had to defend her honor, even if they didn’t know for what, never mind, she was one of their own now and if she is hurt, everyone is, although, who cares for the truth?

The Good fight is something that everyone dreams and rarely is served like this. The thing is, what Kili lacked in the height, he compensated with the precise proficiency of delivering blows. Jon…was earnestly impressed.

Landing the impact that had them both leaping, distancing from each other on the each side of the respectable course of the battle, grandiose corridors, the Mazes of Hallways and the Halls of the King, Under the Mountain.
Everyone watched breathlessly while Jon and Kili took their own breaths in. The little one, Jon thought, was astonishing. What power and vigor in him!

- I could have you, Kili, bending you, but I do not claim Wills, but the goodwill…so…what do you think. Would you join me? Together with your wife?! I am so impressed by you! I don’t know from whom, with what or how… for it doesn’t matter, I taught a lot of my people (it forevermore sounds good when it is harkened by Jon or he feels the words he said) the Art of the Sword, I even self – taught myself when the lessons were over and nobody had anything to teach me more, but you are really the most impressive fellow. No one before blocked and gave back my hits, either deadly strikes or sly strokes, like you did, not even my own brother, Robb Stark. You are surpassing everyone I know! – Kili anticipated hatred, instead…he got…worshipping?! Wow. This had him yield to Jon, giving back what he received.

- My answer is no, and to tell you the truth, I don’t know why everyone’s mouths are full of you as the greatest swordsman that ever was, when I could avoid and see through all your movements. You are easy to read! – after a second or two, together with the Fellowship and the dwarven kingdom, every stone and gem, burst into the crazy laughter, even Jon Snow, who could hardly keep himself from not going totally mad because of the gravity in where they found themselves in, or they threw themselves into or it was cast, not relevant that much but the look on enlightened Tauriel’s face, that is her husband. Now, Jon understands. – What kind of balls you grew on him, Thorin?! I want that too! For my boys and girls in the North! You must confess me your secret! – with this kind of gratification, Thorin beams in simmering pride. – I cannot gloat. It is all on him! Welcome!

That is reception to remember which only Dwarves can perform and demonstrate in hordes. Balin during all, thought to self, it could end infamously, but the hospitality of Dwarves was always the high notch and the welcome of the King and his Northern Fellowship of the Wolves they collectively call the Pack, Jon’s company or the Party of Fire and Blood, went well. If there is no misunderstanding, fight or some insults that are being shared in between, then, it isn’t a thing to exult in, it is inappropriate for reputation and prestige, and so, everyone is ushered in the grander chambers where they are all honored by rich food and the best drinks, the cheers are never to lack while being regarded with the deep respect with no dark in it any longer so.

Chapter 73: In you, I see all Love I lost, the strongest and most powerful

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You can’t escape us, nowhere to hide, you will be found. Legolas recalls the words of those on Dragonbacks. As soon as it reached his ears and he saw from the high distance with his elven eyes, the Elvenking just as his father before him, sent the reinforcements, together with his people, they on the spot started reinforcing healing of Nature. Knowing that safely Jon and their Tauriel with the rest of Pack, escaped. Dragon dead bodies blended into the Forests, such a feeling of relief. He also sent a word for his immortalized human wife and children to be brought back to him, from the hiding. The one, Celegorm delivered once upon a time because Tauriel left him for her dwarf Prince. Staying out of his bitterness, he took the offer and got married.

- Your Grace… - Yes? – What do we do now? – Now, now it is all up to them, we did our share. – And Dragons? – Dragons? – Legolas narrows his eyes. – There is but one nightmare for every…Dragon. – Which is? – Not which or what, but who – turns to his loyal High Guard – and we know him all too well to ever forget. The Dragonslayer, Bard the Bowman and his black arrows. He doesn’t miss his targets – High Guard nods.

Meanwhile, opposite to the Dwarf kingdom Under the Mountain, Bard had a hard time to adjust to the new built life in the restored Dale as it was, not as brilliant as prior to the Fall as it can be said for the precious Heart of Elves, Gondolin. Elvenking was every step with them, alongside the Dwarves, never going back on his word to ever lay a hand or allow anyone to do so, but it was theirs, risen from the ashes, so they made of life the most they can.

- Tilda! Sigrid! Come on! You go to school! Get ready quicker! You are not preparing for the Ball! And you, Bain! Are you at least, prepared?! On time!? Is this family ever going to do something, on time?! – the neighbors were snigg*ring while they passed by their doorways at which Bard was standing right now, and here they are, his children, who looked like the seastorm washed them ashore. Haven’t they slept a wink?! They are going to the school, to learn something and become smarter than they are looking now, and it seemed more to them, that he is forcing for all his blood to the gallows, leastwise imposing the simple education! Is he asking for too much from all three?!

- All right, tomorrow you are going to look…better.

- Tomorrow again?! We must go to school every day!? – Yes, just as I need to go to my work for which I intend to get on time, except for Sunday, dear daughter of mine, and so, Tilda, did you bring the apple for your new teacher?!

- Yes, I did, here! – That has got some worm in it! And it is even rotten from the right side!? Haven’t you noticed?!

- Out of all apples she gets, I do not believe she is going to see one little worm or that it isn’t perfect! – Go, get another one, and you, Sigrid, stop making faces or I am going to make one for you, be a good girl and step forth, let me see your apple for the teacher – obediently, she extended out her hand in which lies the apple that looked far more fitting than the one which Tilda would offer. – I am highly pleased, and you Bain, let me see yours.

- I ate mine. – How could you eat the last apple when you know you are going to be obliged to gift it?! Aren’t you fed enough by me?! My son!? – I am going to borrow some from the sellers. – I haven’t taught you to steal! Your borrowing and stealing has the same meaning in just one sentence! – Dad, it is just one apple, who is going to notice?! – Bard facepalms, he knew that out of all his punishments, he was now certain, he is looking at all three, right at this present, and Tilda returned with the final reserve of her apples, for which he is aware she hides from her greedy brother.

- Good, good, it has some hole…but who is going to notice, right?! – their father remarks, Tilda let out a laugh with a full heart and so all of family together brightly.

Endearing the father who was on the verge of bursting, but it wouldn’t go so easy if it weren’t for his eldest daughter, who broodingly had come forth!

- Father, I would rather cook. You do not wish anymore to eat my food? And who is going to do the housework and look after the house?! – It is why I hired the Lady of the House to do the necessary work, so you can concentrate on your studying! All what I do, I do for this family, work little with me! And your cooking is wondrous! No one is denying it or questioning it! – Still, you are more than eager in replacing my cooking skills with another woman? And I cook just like my mother did before me, I learned everything from her, for she was a great teacher. And so, does this mean that you do not prefer mother’s cooking anymore just as you would rather bring another woman to your house?! Our dear father.

What can he say?! He is left speechless! Is this how they all felt?! He wanted to ease their lives, make something out of them and they are just, ah, kids.

- There is no other woman. Your mother is for life, this is just the serving lady, a cleaning... and - Our mother was too, the maid and you took her.
What has gotten into his kids?! When they were babies, they have been most adorable, and now, he can’t recognize them, especially his eldest daughter.

- Sigrid, please, child…do not speak like this to me. I didn’t deserve it. I understand you, but life goes on and you, won’t be the one who is telling me how to care for this family, neither I will permit you to stick your nose into my private life, is that clear? You are mine, but you have no right. I am your Lord Sire, you are under my roof and you walk on my floor, I feed you, take care of you, clothe you and love you, and all what you could do for me is being a good daughter – she gulps down, faintly, bent into obedience, nodding. He felt like an asshole, God, he hates this part and now, onto his…well, prodigal son. – And you, what did you…do?!

- I exist, so I am.

- Bless you! You never make it harder for yourself or on me when it comes to the certain things, isn’t it, Bain?!

- All for our sakes, Sir – oh, even his son is becoming difficult and Tilda is in the process of becoming the difficulty herself, nice, very nice until the lonely point when he perceived that his little Tilda disappeared and the tearing voice is pervading their living space, all three are caught in a single glance when family rushed to her side, Tilda is crying uncontrollably. Who hurt her?! If someone even dares, he is on his knees, taking her into his strong arms, pulling unto his fatherly embrace, placing her protectively upon his sturdy chest, just holding her and calming down, while the two stayed confused, what happened?

- Dad! I saw a snake! I got scared! I do not like them! – everything that reminds them of the Dragons, Tilda got the hardest trauma of her life. Oh, he shouldn’t have been so strict with them, after all what they survived. – I see it, and your brother and sister who are worried about you, see it too and it is not a snake, it is a caterpillar – her tearstained cheeks are being wiped. – And will grow into a butterfly!? Daddy?! – all of his stern demeanor melts away and he gets conquered by his youngest, her two siblings are rejoiced.

- Yes, it is a bit late for it, but when it blooms, as the last, it maybe won’t be the most beautiful, but it will captivate all the world with its beauty and grace – the home gets brightened of the fullest virtues, no one is going to fall from the apple tree or does the unseemly acts. Not today, today was the glad day. Until, it got to Bard.

- We are going to be late!!!
They are always late. If there is something for which this family was known for, they are notoriously late. They are even late in being born. When Bain was being born, there was no time to get out, Bard, just reached out into his wife’s womb and brought him out, for he was already late for his work, that day, his payment was reduced by 10 coins! The next was Sigrid, no time to get the doctor, so that the undaunted mother just kept doing the chores until she didn’t come out on her own, as a baby, Sigrid was independent, and this is what he didn’t like at all.

He hated his daughter’s independence and strength. Even if every inch of his common sense told him, he is not getting younger and it is good for her, he craves to remain her only Lord. As a matter of fact, this is why he fears the real world, the life, more than his own children, with Tilda and her alone who has got the gentlest birth out of all, it only cemented that fear how he is going to lose them to other men, someday. He doesn’t want to share his daughters with anyone, they were his.

The son will become a man and continue to bloodline and name, but the daughters, oh, he is not giving up on them, ever! Legolas, even once, when he visits in secret, not to disturb the family’s or Dale’s peace, offered the betrothal to one of his sons, but he couldn’t just yet, like that, took the offer. Ah, he would right now, at this very moment, confront all Dragons of this world, than being obligated to deal with any of these feelings he battled, never to face his children’s emptying of a nest. Out of four, Bard was a child who never grew up, the mightiest Dragonslayer remains the biggest kid of all Time.

Once the Dragonblood is in you…you cease to be…human.
When we are everything, but when we are ourselves?
In there, lies the greatness.
For there are countless who wield swords, but only one who fights with bare hands in need… and his name stays glorious to this day.
Taking or stealing lives, sells for a high price.

Chapter 74: Reach the untrodden Fountain and pave your way from here

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And what is real normality today? Just as was Chimera son of Glorfindel. And so, Balin as King’s adviser, had the utmost obligation, but first the responsibility toward his King to open his mind and made him think about how to approach Jon Snow for the certain matters which must be addressed, that man can’t go on through life without knowing truly who he for real is. One Ring is after his head. It was more clear to those who are of Old acuity.

- I thought I would find you here. What are you thinking about? – Hm, stars are lovely tonight – Balin discerns the pattern when he sees it, joining Thorin in admiring of the Silverlight.

- We are lionizing this light even though it is distant and cold. – We are more into the warmth and closeness, is that right? – You know, when I was younger…I thought that Moon can speak and that it moves on its own, so I came to my idea, that I need to catch the Moon, to reach it, I never did, and here I am – both chuckled in mirth. – What is your point?

- Well, all your life, we are catching that one star that can make all of us…the stars, but the thing is…we are all those stars when we look up and would you tell that one distinguishes from another? No. Just because some is bigger or is shining brighter than the rest of us, it doesn’t mean that its lifespan is to be prolonged, it is often the sign of its…Downfall.

- You were always wise. I needed two centuries, just to get on the right track of your mind, Old Man – Thorin smiles back, tenderly at Balin. – And I say, Balin, what I always say, to you all. I would rather choose you, for infinity times than those who weren’t there when I was in need for them the most, in the trying days.

- You have got to speak with Jon Snow. If anyone can understand that man, it is you. Don’t you see the same eyes, that you once suffered? – He is King, Kings have everything. – And when was the last time…when Jon Snow actually did something for himself? He is more his father he looks up to, forsaking self, than ever being just...himself.

Without Balin, all Dwarven kings would fall, he was the one who established the unbreakable system of the society they live in today. This man, where did he get such…wisdom, the greatest of them all. From where all this knowledge of his was coming, indeed, but whenever he would ask, the Old Man would just playfully smile and said. It is my secret. The man who never hesitated, for one moment, to tell his mind to any of you. Be it King or any Elf!
- Do not speak to him as King to King, he had enough of that nonsense, that crap everyone is feeding him because they knew no better. Approach him as you would approach a child that needs your counsel. Without Jon Snow and his ideals, this place would become the gloomy pit, we need men like him and he is just one, but there are already many as him. If that one light is smothered, what we others can hope for?

- I have been preached for all this time that there is the star for each of us, and now you tell me that we depend on just one?

- The one that glows the brightest during the eventide. And its name is Evenstar, to lots of us, it is the Northern Light, that guides the lost Packs. If we do let that even ONE man fall as is Jon Snow, then, for us...Hope is not required, for we extinguish our hopes by our own greed and vanity. And such a powerful star can’t ever continue to glow without the help of us all. That is why, each star matters, because Evenstar, doesn’t twinkle so bright, nor it casts its powerful light upon us out of loneliness, yet because it is supported by tens of thousands who are on its side, this is our Jon Snow. Don’t you think? The man we revere the most, needs our help! – Thorin for a long time, solely glared at Balin.

- I have only one wish, when all wishes cease to be, that I sail into your mind and see where do you store all the insight of our lives – and there it is, the mystical smile of old Balin, the only one he endows you with.

- It is my secret. Now. Go to him and tell him what I told you. He will figure it out. He is a smart man.

He didn’t need to search for long. Jon Snow was idolizing and venerating every nook and the part of Erebor, it reminded him a lot of Winterfell, awed.

- Do you take pleasure in our humble dwellings? King in the North? – he startles him, for a Dwarf, he moves stealthy.

- Yes…yes… and the food and your cordiality, all is in its place. There are no Hosts as the Hosts in the Dwarven folk, we say. – Just like the Stark who is the King, for whom they all bend the knee and pray for the continuation of the tradition. – It is the way of the North, it always was. It is something engrained, a multitude of them tried, but each of them failed. The North people were at all times willful about the way they lived, you take off just one brick that makes the Wall and all Banners call to the War.

- Then, it sounds to me…that Dwarves and the Northern people, have much more in common than we think, isn’t it?
- But, you still do not dare to come closer to me, near myself, Thorin. Son of Thrain, son of Thror.

- Well, you are a Dragon that the Northmen claimed. And what strikes me the outmost, is that you are neither broken or tamed, you are made their King, explain it to me.

Jon Snow draws his Longclaw, the Great Iron Cutting Edge, from the last found vein in the Misty Mountains harvested by Ned, forged by his... hands.

- The Last human King of the North gifted you? I see, it means all to you. – Why do you insist to call him the last? – Because after him…none of you who will succeed him, won’t be fully human, Jon Snow.

- Lannister is the finest well from which I drank.

- Lannister bears the half of your Dragon heart and his daughter he plans to put to the Throne is Dragon too.

- There are good people among Targaryens. Elven or not, we are all Elves, be the parent of Original or just Half of the Breed.

- You are elven too.

- All bloods are in me.

- Hm, so, you won’t grow scales or some tail, blow fires at us?

- Oh, only if you challenge me – only to Jon, this was funny, Thorin tested him.

- Would you like to try it? To see if you are the real Dragon? What if we do awake it? Hm?

- What!?

- To see what is underneath the skin you wear and…you are wearing the humanity on your face, but you are human not, even if you are more than all of them put together, you are still, bearing the human pelt – for an instant, Jon reassessed what he was offered.

Is he being given an opportunity to walk into the living fires and see what will come out of it? Thorin was resolute, he shall do it if Jon accedes an offer.
- Yes, I do. – Sheathe your sword back, follow me. We will be alone – a road is long but to Jon, it seemed, it was like he waded just for a second!

He has gazed up at the great cauldrons of dwarven kingdom in which they melted their ores, made the gold or thawed golden metals into the materials!

- Brilliantly breathtaking. – I will start the fire – Jon glances at him like he lost his mind. – You don’t mean?

- Yes, oh, I do mean, the melting mineral is the best for trying your skin of the Dragon.

- What if I… - the great fear crept into Jon’s heart. – You are so afraid to die? – Yes, I am, Thorin. – It is the human feeling. – And I live among them. – You just took after their traits, but not the features. Come. You may undress before me.

- Perhaps, this is not a good idea – if Thorin something hates, those are not cravens, for even those, keep their words, he looks back at the faltering Jon Snow. – The moment you step outside of these Walls, you will regret it and then, you will never know. Jon Snow. Let us see.

For a while, that appeared as eternity, he was scared to the blood and death, delivered to numberless people, he gave them the death. And he fears it so.

- This is what makes you human, but I say, let us see…what makes you DRAGON. I believe I never promised such an offering like I did for you.

Jon Snow was undressed and bare, the armor and all black that suits him so, is spread out around his soles. Thorin evaluated the state of the body which Jon Snow nurtured, and it was the physical form of the man who knew only war. Such was with Ned Stark, for any warrior Elf, and it is for his Stark family, the symbol of being the Wolf.

What is a Wolf with no scarred back? Just a boy. No fear, let it pass through you. And just breathe, you can do it. I must. One of the Grand Furnaces was lighted up, others are left to cool down for the morrow, but this was lit, he climbed on the longest steps, Thorin led him to the edge from where he will jump, just like in a pool of fresh spring water, but this is full of living melted lava, oh God. He can’t. He, started losing it, not like this, panic assailed, shivers of foreboding, glowing warmness is everything he can think about. What is he doing?! He cannot do this. The closer he got, the greater this predicament eyed him back, like it was uttering, you are the weakling, Bastard, you know to cut, but you will never know how it is when you are cut down, but one word, made him halt, when Thorin voiced.
For all the suffering you brought to your kin, to all others, in the past and for the present, allow for the boy to die and for the Dragon be awakened, the real one. This had Jon gone mad, he looked Thorin into eyes!

- The boy stays alive – and Jon leapt, the fall was swift and upon crushing on the surface, was the feeling of gelatin and jelly. Thorin believes in him, unwavering and Jon emerged fine and well, the biggest smile is plastered across his face. – This is like hot spring! In here! You want to try it, Thorin? – No, thanks. I am Dwarf, not Targaryen – after this, in Jon is roused something childishly and he swam through it like it is the vast ocean!

It was a sight to be experienced, to witness that Jon Snow acquired the Power of the Dragon. No fire can burn him, no hotness harm him, he may go through all the wild volcanoes alone and he will be go out unburnt. Still, Thorin was, in the last second, hesitant because he was uncertain how the beard and the hair would respond to it, he had no wish to return Jon with baldness, but in one piece, but it looks that his black mane and the other parts of his body, even eyelashes, the inner organs, nooks and inside the mouth, especially his teeth and tongue, all was better than ever, although the gold comprised some of a radioactive matter. This only attested why they couldn’t win over Smaug with their molten, sunken gold. Dragons do not burn up!

From my father, to his son, feel the flame, bathe in its waters, the red shining torches were as though the cicadas felt the coming of Spring which arrived, the entire hallways, the mazy corridors and magma labyrinths, that are, perhaps, today hollow, the following day, it will be as it was yesterday that the Pack, the Fellowship and the Company, the party of Jon Snow reached our Gates. It was listened to, someone was bathing in the magma’s lagoons. When Jon’s people found out, it was him. They couldn’t believe it, maybe, that is why they failed to see the truth, verily. In all due, every way.

Jon is…a Targaryen Elf.

- By the way, Jon. – Yes? – I see the little bubbles. – Oh, I have just farted. - DO NOT FART INTO OUR GOLD, YOU BLOODY DRAGON!

Chapter 75: Ashen cold Gates recall Mirrormere

Chapter Text

Dwalin didn’t trust any Dragon, what if this one also transforms and eats them alive?! Fili was bored, there is too much drama over nothing, but, overall, he couldn’t get used to the peaceful life, though, everyone prefers it. So, maybe a bit of challenge or something? Ah, yes, his brother has already done the part. Oh, well. These days are now over and what remains is something suspenseful and anticipation of the succeeding events for sure.

- Have you seen how your brother gave that half star in the air, against that Dragon guy? – Dwalin woke him up from his thoughts in which he was lost. – He is not the Dragon guy.

- Wolf then? Which one is it?! – The best of both world. He is the King – Dwalin snorts.

- Who does he believe he is? Hm…all these Elf guys are the same! – Not the guy, the King, King…Dwalin!

- He is no King of mine. – Of course he isn’t, still have some respect! You can do that much.

- And there is another one we overlooked! That girl and her baby dragon! – She is a child.

- But she will grow. – Jon is the adult. – But she is the same as he is. Since when Dwarves are hosting the Dragons? – Since the time when it is the proper to welcome anyone who seeks the shelter and peace! – Dragons do not make peace. – Oh, give it a break – Fili eyes him – it isn’t like it defines them. – Yet, it surely has its charm on them. – And he is in a rut.

- RUT?! ARE YOU…EH?! – He doesn’t breed with the First Mate in this season, or she would bite his head off. – To like…inseminate?! – Who knows! I am not the part of his breeding process! All I know is that he… unknowingly is doing it. And he is giving off even that smell, the male one that may madden the young women, bring them to the maddening states, especially those who can’t fight their budding urges to the extent of entering into madness which they can’t control and from which there is no escape. Males are born to battle themselves, women do not. They follow their hearts – Dwalin gulps down. – Then, I pray they go as fast as they are able to… - He won’t be into our women!

- You never know! Dragons, all kinds of Elves just take and they do not return back, and what is more, while North remembers, they do not forget and all the Elves look and smell the same to me! – Well, what is troubling me the most is not Jon, but does anyone of his people feel... I mean, are not sensing it?! His Wolf Queen is too proud to talk about it, more Wolf than human and Lady speaks her language which no one understands except if she wants it, covers Lady Wolf by sticking together like any of Wolf women.

That was the good question! Perhaps, they believe that this is Jon, and he can’t fall to the prey of the Dragon characteristics. Isn’t that right so?! Weird!

- In other words, can he master it, Fili? – I don’t know. It is hard to oppose your own nature – it stayed on that, while Ygritte and Lady were enjoying themselves beside the King’s Hearthstone, in coziness and snug feelings. Lady and Ygritte understood each other telepathically.

- Yig, your hooman is having difficulties. – I can’t be the one who relieves him all the time. – Do you rather prefer to leave him to his own? – No, for he has to see for himself how much it is hard to harbor the blood of the Dragon in self. – You have wolfblood, does it require the same? – Yes... I have my needs, yet,…it must be done in the quiet.

- No way…when did you, with whom?! Why don’t you like…fight it?! – Ah, I did it in the heat of battle, with ONE of the Lone Wolves which joined us in our rescue when we fought under the fake Bloodmoon. Yes, he knows. It was in my wolf form, he took it as it is. It wasn’t nice, but now he sees for himself, that it is happening to him too. It is the animal in you. Which confirms that he is not human even though he is the human among all human beings. It is the nasty nature, you either do it or suffer it. I relieved myself with no impregnation, the children born out of the rut, are abnormalities, it is best if it is skipped or you do it with a human with no seed.

How can he…skip it? What a Will it has to be… to…which means, if he doesn’t control himself, will it take control over him who is going to hunt down someone? This is the matter that must be addressed, not leave it alone, even so, Ygritte had principles. If Jon Snow is not the Master of himself, than no one else will be able to help him even if he falls. In any way, to these two ladies, it was amusing to watch how Dwarves reacted around them, they adored the Wolves of all kinds, except for Morgoth’s Wargs, and despite the size and looking intimidating, they weren’t scared of them, even welcomed heartily both were as the revered wolves while in the mid of all the relations stood one silver Dragon girl and her baby dragon. Lion Princess.
- Syrax, what do you think, now when we escaped my father, to get a bit of our freedom to breathe, to go and find Lady Elf?! Or is it said, Elf Lady? – I don’t know, this kingdom scares me a lot! – the squeakiness was adorable.

- Why is it so?! I love when it is dark and spooky, just envision it, there is some very, very…creepy creatures which are sneaking around, arhhhh – she wasn’t scary at all, but a little girl who sounded more like a pirate than the imitation of something unknown. – Ha, you are funny, you make me laugh! – Oh, come on, don’t be like that, Syrax, just think about it! We are both dragons and lions, we should be, you know, awed fear and walking trepidation for all around us! – I really don’t know what you plan to achieve it, I am practically a baby, that is why I am a baby dragon and you are your father’s baby girl!

- I yearn for someone to look at me as a grown up! – You will grow, Tauriel can’t give it to you. – Still, she takes me seriously! – Like what?! Born of blood, shaped of fire? – That is it, you see! Someday, I am going to outshine everyone in the world! – You definitely outshone the last time. – And what I was supposed to do?! Brienne is so f*cking strong! – Don’t swear it! – slithering with its incredibly funny walk. Well, that was her baby!

And it was such a good emotion, no rows of King’s guards or some High Ones going behind you, tailing your every step, while you are shadowed by some High Knights of the Dwarven kingdom. It was the beautifully lightened underground realm. And when the Elf delves in you, even the blood of your water changes the color you carry in your being, this is how felt a great number of Dwarves but the world is changing and they have to along with.

- Do you want to hop into my pocket? – No, no pockets. I want to wander by myself, if you do not mind. – I just do not want to have you hurt, that is all. – You are too much the father’s daughter, your protectiveness may suffocate me! – she gets mad. – You are downright wrong! – And you outright confirm it! – You are quite unnerving me! – You would rather squash me! That is better for both of us?! Preferable because you prefer it?!

- I am just into keeping you safe! – I am not your baby. One day, I am becoming the great dragon! – Until then, you are mine to wield as I see fit! Whether you like it or not! – all of a sudden, both went silent, what was this music? Where comes from?! It was elegantly reverberating through their souls, and the tinkling notes were enriching the utter solemnity of flares.

- You hear it? Syrax?
- Yes! I know what it is or why it sounds like the Winter when you listen to, I harkened from nearby Dwarves that it is Song to Snow that passed away, and it thaws before their eyes, Dwarves are the lovers of Snow the most! – How fitting, and one arrived at their Doors. – Exactly! Hey, you wish to peek in?!

Why of course, Lannisters do not miss a thing. What attracted her the most was the simple feeling of seeing them dance in one of the imposing chambers like there is no tomorrow, she wishes to join them and one of the Guards, actually, came to her and offered her to dance with the Little Lady, and the Princess was astonished by such the warm reception, that she didn’t mind and why would she?!

She was enquired to dance! And she took the hand that brought her to the dancing floor while other Dwarves were astounded by her Lioness presence. She was in her dainty girly dress which Jaime bought for her, smuggled from the woodland kingdom. Lannister wouldn’t be Lannister if he doesn’t make the most of the situation and so, his daughter was dressed the best even though her elegance was modest, there was not in the slightest any kitsch or showiness, it was vivid for everyone who watched, this was the Lannister’s daughter.

In modesty and refinement, all the while, there is one more girlish heart that was yearning for something that calls her name, it doesn’t ask for any adventure or a trace of freedom whilst above is twinkling of the brightest star upon a vault of heaven, she made her wish. It doesn’t seek to come true, just for Eru to hear her plea, and to one day bestow her happiness she remembers to a last beat.

Grand Circles of Life, I am dancing alone under the moonshine,
In my pocket, lies the little lizard,
My brood you all fall in love with,
Becoming enamored with the Great Serpent that enchants your maiden heart,
If any mother sees the Dragon bride,
She would approve into the Home of Twilights,
Because they are not alike, but the kindred souls of the kindling Silverlight.

The Wheel spins around the lines of torching lights,
For the World was Young, the Mountains green,
Not stain on the Moon was seen,
The words were laid on stream or stone,
When Durin woke and walked alone,
He named the nameless hills and dells,
He drank from yet the untasted wells,
He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,
And saw a crown of stars appear,
The world was fair and mountains tall,
In Elder Days before the Fall,
Of mighty Kings in Nargothrond (Finrod Felagund’s realm)
And Gondolin who now beyond,
The world was fair in Durin’s day,
The Runes of Power upon the Door (you shall not flee),
The King will sit on the Carven Throne forever and his name shall be known to all who dream.

Dreamers of Targaryens are more than the King.
In our hearts, we carry more magic, than all the world that breaks the Wheel and the Wall that falls to us.
It is just the emphasis on whose blood we carry on, up to the endless nights.
Dracarys unto the North.

Chapter 76: Make you mine

Chapter Text

Who taught you to dance? The dwarf asked the silver Little Lady, the Princess of lions. The answer was, her dad. He is the great teacher when he wants to be. While dancing, she raises one of her hand with the open palm, indicating for the Dwarf to stay calm, for she wants to finish the dance and only later there is something she would ask him. So it was, in the corner of the dimmed luminosity. Curiously, she questioned kindly one of the Guards.

- Do you know where is Lady Tauriel? – Oh, I am going to answer you if you tell me, how did you learn from your father?! – That is easy, I stepped on his toes all the time – this cheered him up and he answers gladly. – She is with her husband, on the tallest tower, she loves to admire the frozen light of starlight with the smiling Moon, at least, this is what she says that it looks like to her – Rhaenyra was glad. – I am so grateful.

Leaving the enthralled Dwarf behind her, tonight, he dreams of the silver, just like in the songs of theirs. Syrax and her were on the quest to find an Elf.

- Do you like it here that much? – Tauriel glances back at her beloved husband, he is so intricately gentle and his love knew no bounds. – You know that I must leave you. – For another man. – King, I am to be his Guide, that is all. You are my first and foremost. – May I go with you, too? – Your place is next to...our King. You are one of the best and…- You are such a free spirit, I feel you! – both cuddled, kissing and loving.

She will be back, winking at him, with a sigh, he leaves her alone to herself to think, alas, it wasn’t meant to be, one little shadow found her at long last.

- Who is hiding among the shadows? – upon the call, Rhaenyra and her baby snaky dragon were upon her gladness. – Oh, I have guests from the shadows, it seems – upon the ethereal light, her beauty transcended even the Noldor Elf women. – Among the first, who approached you were our Brienne – it was intriguing for Tauriel to watch how the child is molded by her human side, unintentionally – and then, you spoke with the Queen who is now in her wolf form, I barely had time to befriend you! – what she said, spoke to Tauriel all the volumes, something was coming to pass. – Doesn’t your father search for you, sweety? – Yes, he does, but, there is something I had to ask of you. – Then be honest with myself.

She was all ears. There is something that bothers the little one and she is more than ready to help out, if there is anything she can do. Make a difference.
- Oh, I don’t know where to start, do you know, Syrax? – Don’t look at me! – she flaps her little wings and Tauriel got endeared, offering them to sit next to her enchanting beauty. – Now, tell your Tauriel, and I am going to reveal the secret. – You will?! – I give my word – she winks and Rhaenyra told her all. – I remember my past life – here, She – Elf understood it all even before she was speaking her mind.

- And I know how I was again brought back to life… I believe this is about this pendant around my neck, the first pebble of the Wall when it was build, Sam’s family claimed it and now, it is mine. So, tell me, are there some other lives, dimensions and spheres of death? – We are all reborn, in this or the next life. – So, it is true! – Yes. But the Elves have still the obligations to the worlds we invaded, ah, we were always foolish.

- You haven’t intruded upon anything or anyone, you always were the part of Arda. You Silvan are different!

- Tauriel sighed in the hollowed deepness. – Sweetheart, let me tell you something, would you? – Yes! – Your question is, if your previous Dad is going to reappear?! – Yes, still I love them both. I don’t want to lose either! – You won’t. The soul of your previous father is in Jaime’s body, or better to say, he is rebirthed as Sir Jaime Lannister and no spellcasting or the charmed tools or weapons we emboss in with the magic, won’t ever, but ever, dispel it, Little Lady of ours.

Considering that Dragons are bonded on the upper level with their riders, Lords and Ladies, Masters and Mistresses, Syrax, felt it, hopping into her lap, surprising Tauriel for being surprised, while the tiny girl, embraces her whole. Making her so happy, thanking her so. While on the other side of Erebor, Sam and Lord Bolton were on the prowl to explore the splendor and brilliance of the Dwarven realm. Bolton feels stunned, such a sight, deeply moved.

- I was never this glad as I am now, it got me wordless, and all glances are darkly compared to what we are experiencing. Reminding us of our loved Winterfell or how it could be such magnificence if we only try it harder. What do you think, Sam? – Lord Bolton, what Dwarves make, it is hard to imitate, but I am writing down some ideas we could include in with our… Winterfell, like the extra Towers or the arched domes, what do you think?!

- Good, good, note down all what you see that is to be remarked, you never know. – Especially you hiding or running away with your butt you dearly wish to save – at this, Bolton got madder than ever. – Oh, don’t add insult to injury! I don’t know how to get rid of an Elf.
Sam snickers, for some reason, he felt more at peace, and satisfied with himself whenever he is by the side of Roose Bolton, the man had it inward him!

- Why are you looking back the whole time? I apologize for my prying nose. – No, that is all right, I am just checking if there is no one to ambush me out of shadows – Sam again leers at Lord Bolton, he was the epitome of intimidation, but such an embodiment, often, was hiding the cruelty of the life he had lived, for it wasn’t fair to him either, and such was the wisdom born out of the greatest suffering. – Do you sometimes, like, miss the old life you once had? – All the time, but Ned showed me the path, I can always do better.

- What if you are never allowed to choose, even though it seems, you have such a little choice to decide, it won’t change anything. – Sam – these words struck him and he had to look at the young man more closely. Take an honest look at their Sam – what is it? You can tell me. – It is about Jon. I don’t know how to aid him, he doesn’t allow anyhow but with his own ways and his are… you know…too much elven or Dragon to me – perchance, Roose wasn’t the sage, but he wasn’t an idiot either. – They both died, and this is where it all changed for them.

- Wait, you mean? – Yes, our Queen and the King shall very much soon have what to discuss about. We shouldn’t meddle in, for what is the most notable is what is lost, he shall regain something in turn, it is the same with her too. – They are meant for each other. – Often, the soulmates are not the ones who are alike, but the very opposite. All what we could do is wait and stay patient. – I must do something – Roose grabbed him carefully. – I know, it is humanity in us, that tells us, whenever someone we love is in pain, we must help, even so, I plead of you to trust me with this, of all of you. We would bring more harm than good to him or her. We should stay away and let it be done naturally.

- What if…I mean…he is the Wolf. – He is also evolving, dear Sam, he is still Jon, but the travels altered his views of life, before, he was cruelly hellbent on holding to the rules, and look at him now. He bends like the water, because he wants to live, to survive with all of whom he deems as his and he views as the essential part of his being that has to breathe in.

Create life within life. He got it. Oh, he is just not used to do nothing, but sometimes, it makes the best something. Both will figure it all out unlike him.

- The best question is…what is worrying you? – Me?! – Yes.
- Well, I am not shy, but…there is that dream. Every single time, all the time, the same, it repeats, I have got my own tavern, family and I call all the court and the people of mine to my humble threshold, and yet, I am unsure, if it is just a dream, was it ever real or will it be? – To me, it sounds you live in multiple, parallel realities. – Really? – It could be, nothing is sure.

Simplicity that opens your eyes, such was Roose Bolton who shoulders his own struggles while backing everyone else, complementing where anyone is lacking, he is on their sides to be the obscured light when all the lights are decreasing their power of the incandescence that casts the wholehearted assurance that everything must grow fine when everybody loses the hope, he was their pillar and their power they need in the most pressing periods which are trying even the best of the best. This is what it implies to share the meaning. Meanwhile, Jaime was on the quest to find his mischievous child, where did she get it from?! After whom she took it?!

Nevertheless, he isn’t going alone, there was Brienne by his side. Great, there is something he must ask her and talk with her, conversing with any lady, wasn’t ever his good part, because he thought that he can everything solve with the looks and the costly shampoo. It just doesn’t work on Brienne, and since the day, when Jon told him, you are the one I gaze at as the next king, it only suggested that Jon doesn’t intend to remain their King if they ever come back, he will be part of the North, but he is going to make his respective life alone, build his realm. Why would he borrow someone else’s if he can have his own? And so it all changed for him, for his family that he put together all by his self.

Slices of Life, who would say that our hymn turns into our tomb, only a different color of the same coat, red or gold, what does it matter? It had claws.
Tauriel returns the given love, it was interesting to watch, and feel how people react to the words, as people or the individual, words made a difference!
*
And so we spoke to Lord Castamere… it is time for our Boy King to become a…MAN. The Age, when boys grew into manhood with the young years!

Freed from shadow dungeons and cages of gold, inside where the clanking chains stay cold.
We need to change along with the world, if we do not give way to the new order, all what stays from us is the memory of the Northern ash. Ashen cold it was, with the heavy heart when the belated flower blossomed the prettiest out of all, captivating all around the world with its scent of beautiful.

Chapter 77: No run save to my man’s bosom, you have no liberty to judge me!

Chapter Text

This was the big moment, this was it. This was everything he waited for, stood for, bled for, fought for, hoped, and now, he is the man and he is the one who...who...doesn't know how to do it, the way to approach her, by what means. All right, just breathe normally, take deeper breaths, and thank you my dearest daughter, I mean…you are all dearest to me, but thank you for allowing me this chance with your escape while we are searching for naughty you. Okay, here goes nothing. He looks at the brooding Brienne, she always broods, how can she have that picture on her face, like the whole time, even when she is with him. He is the golden lion, look at how handsome I am. Damn, perhaps, he should use more conditioner. He loves his mane.

- And so…Brienne of Tarth… - I can’t believe that she is so reckless! When did she succeed to learn that?! – it left him…confused, like what?! And really… - Huh?! – To be disobedient, disrespectful! She got it all wrong from you! You are not teaching her enough, and you are making of her to become one day a bad example for any lady out there! My Lady Sansa would never stroll away like that!

- What did you say?! That is because that girl is stuck up! Uptight like the strained arrow, just waiting to hit you between loins! I can’t even figure out if she loves men at all, except for her father!

- YOU IDIOT! You are not making a point! She is the Dragon, alone with the little baby of hers and… - She is my baby too! – Yet, you are acting…like you are in some sort of the alive theater or I don’t know! You are strutting around like the big ass naked baboon you are! I have no words for you! – Hey, I am now at fault!? It was you who should be the Shadow of hers! And if it is the sin of looking good, and I do look good, I truthfully don’t know what is your problem!? – she gaped at him. – JAIME f*ckING LANNISTER!

- Oh, Brienne! Come on, come back! Don’t be like that!

- Let me go! – No, I won’t! – Since when you are so strong?! – Since when?! I was always this strong and let me just take you… I mean… subdue you… I mean… you f*cking know what I mean, just come in here!

- You have obtained it from the Dragon heart! Isn’t it?! Stop pulling me, ahh! – she has her mouth by his much larger gloved hand covered, pushing her into one of the most secluded and warmly chambers. Hm, he has got luck while holding her around the waistline, albeit she thrashed in his lion arms like she is Wasp!
Her stings are venomous, thankfully, he was resistant to it, however, she was…a big woman, and he was somewhat, shorter than her, it wasn’t simple to just go and subjugate such a powerful Dame, she practically can fight with bare hands, just like Glorfindel, almost strangled to the death and all the blood none other than the Hand of the Queen, one of Olds, Rhaenys Targaryen, as if it was nothing if it were not for his daughter and her baby dragon.

- Easy, easy, shhh, Brienne, I know, I know, I understand your annoyance – he still is alike a snake wrapped around her, whilst a lion hand stays plastered on her mouth, another is slithered still all about a staunch waist and all over her neckline, lulling her in, she got beady sweat for she took breaths irregularly through her nose in raged outtakes and intakes of the precious air, his words are a soft voice, becalming and hushing her down, until again she didn’t for a short time, reclaimed her power and she writhed in his grip even harder while the more she did so, the more she got tightened, bastard, purposely strengthening the hold he got over his prey, the way he did it, she was inhibited to breathe properly!

f*ck him! His both virile legs are enfolding her firm body like the two biggest clutches. In other words, he is wrestling her life. Goddamn, where all this might of hers is coming from? Such an energy and the wilderness, it turns him mad with lust and he fought that…instinct in him not to bite her or leave any besmearing hickey on her. Not on Dame! It just doesn’t suit her, and yet she is like he fought against the Mountain! Damn it all, he knew it is going to be hard, but not that heavy! And finally, up and down, they started rolling too. She punched him in the guts, enduring so.

f*cking hurt! He just wants to speak with her, express his deepest intentions, and this is what she hopelessly struggles against! Hating change in the air!

- Brienne! – his roar was what stopped her to fight him, essentially, if not, she would never give in.

- I am not stealing you or anything, but there is the matter we must address! – he let go of her, fully and unwillingly, missing her being wholesome, Dame distances herself from him on the other nook of the dwarven bedchamber, filled with King’s hearthstone in where is contained a few large fireplaces in order to keep the halls and its branching corridors, all the way to the main hallway, warm and comfy, keep it expressed by the comfort and comfortable feelings which are very now…piercing Brienne with all the intentional aim. She has spoken.

- Be Lannister and command me, you know I can’t deny you, that is the blood pact of our sacrifices.
- I would love you to come to me willing, not that I come for you, all the time, it is bothersome to go on a hunt, lions do not hunt, lionesses do and even though I am a big lion, I won’t be like my father, the old lion, I do concern myself with all the kinds of thinking, I am the one who battles and leads his own victories and defeats…I am not afraid of anyone anymore, I do not fear a great death’s face when in front of me is another lion who is a shepherd that guides own sheep, I will be the one who is aiming to take all breeds of people into combat. I am not weak and I won’t ravage you unwilling. Just...pounce at you and hold you down, even bite at your neck if it is demanded for you to listen to me…Evenfall.

- Oh, are you finished?! – I know what the Cursed Mirror showed you, of the Emperor, Feanor’s it was and Brienne, please…don’t make me…force myself on you. I would do it if you make me. – Is that a threat?! For this is how she spoke as well to me and I would RATHER choke you to… - he smiles and winks. – You may choke me, there is something…sensual about it all. Do whatever you want, feel it but know, it is all over. She let me go, you ARE MINE! And you will belong to me! I waited for so long, lost all hope, but waiting ended. You have no escape from my claws, and they are sharp and long. Do not...compel that I own you in this way. Just cave in to me.

This day lastly came. She knew it will. Cersei guarded the Door, for the eternal time, and now she must confront her destiny. Sir Jaime Lannister solely.

- Just…let me go, let go of me. Jaime… I love you, but I can’t… - clutching at her own guts – I can’t give it to you! – COWARD! What are you, a cow?! What?! You would just lay down and open your legs for me! I may have anyone I want, yet, I desire you, THE WOMAN! – Do not disgrace yourself with me…- he had it enough! He was the ravishing lion and she was defeated. Climbing upon her body, his hands pinned hers.

Looking away, allowing him to kiss her milky neck. Oh, she wants him so bad, but she can’t go against herself. No, she is not ready, never will be for it.

- Jaime… - he shushed her. – I am putting either my fingers on your lips or the entire…erected member into your mouth. Choose, my Brienne, I am mad, you are doing this to me – she cries in his manly embrace. – When they mate us, it goes into blood that change our waters, you would change me within, because it is in you. The blood of Elf, the Dragonblood specifically. – But you stay you, human, there is nothing to fear, wasp. Just, marry me, be my Queen! Brienne of Tarth! If you deny me, then…I must conquer you. There is no other way. You know the Lannisters. We never give up. – No, there is a condition. Jaime…and if you fail. You may never have me! – Say it! I challenge you.

- Have you harked, from Jon Snow, what he told about all the fight his brother and Daemon performed?! The one who brings out the Sword out of the Stone, who wields Excalibur, I shall be his wife then. Become the King of all Kings and there is then, indeed, nothing I can do but obey my King, and if this had you pleased, think again, Doorkeeper. Lines of lines of men are coming at the rims of Black Woods, occupied by the Dragons and they risk it all, and none had it done. So, I ask you, what makes you think, that you are the One?! Who speaks so haughtily?! Hm, are you of red or gold?

- I am – stood up, not letting, towering over what is his - Jaime Lannister, Sir Jaime f*cking Lannister as you all say, and with no hesitation, your LORD and Husband – bit onto his wrist, getting it to bleed, forcing out the blood that dripped, Brienne hadn’t grasped it until he took her smaller hand into his lionized one, with the hopeful eyes that they are going to live through all, live it all what they were put on. Healing together.

All the trials thrown at their foothill of the Throne, whatever it was casting them in the unlikely situations, they will both prevail and he shall be King. If they all survive it, all the way through, Jon is building up his respective dominion and for the first time in all times, the people of the North accepted the new Creed, where there is no King but the King in the North whose name is Stark, he is going to see to it, that it roars name Lannister for all time, which means, that after him, not just his family, but any family can ascend upon the Throne of the North. It doesn’t mean whatever or whoever you are, where you come from. The Kings will be all who gained the right, not of the birth or by the privilege, it shall roar the Age of the Lion. Gold or red coat.
*
I have claws, indeed! Claim me, own me, seize me, taken and subdued, I am weak by might and power of yours. Can’t fight you. Having no other way. Do not let darkness swallows you.
*
I am proud to be the Doorkeeper to my King, once he told me I don’t need to, but it is high honor to serve him, due to one day, someone would be me.

Chapter 78: The Lonely Mountain

Chapter Text

The search for the daughter continued, hence, she found them first before they found her and the moment where she caught them both was precious, perhaps, this is what she was secretly expecting to happen, wanting it, leaving them to their freedom while she slid down across the wall with her Syrax, watching the Door, just like her father before her. Keeping them safe, and in her heart grew the sense of self satisfaction, unlike with Bolton who got stupefied by Haldir who finally caught up to him. Damn. Where is Sam when he needs him?! He doesn’t wish to stay even for a moment alone with the Elf. Ah, what did he do to suffer such a fate? Skinning doesn’t count, it is the part of being Bolton, or at least, his shield when it was necessary. Right?

- Ah, Bolton, finally…alone. – Do not get your hopes high. – Why wouldn’t I?! – You are a moron if you think that you can…bend me! Idiot like the rest of your kind! – And one Idiot is your King to whom you bow willingly. – You are missing the point!

- You know, my Mate wouldn’t mind the threesome, he is totally into it. – And I would rather cut off your ears and skin you to the bone!

- You turn me on when you are sad*stic. I always loved sad*sts. They bring you to the utmost pleasure – Bolton facepalms, but suddenly, both of them, stopped their ministrations and got hidden into the shadows from one seemingly very huge shade. It was Jon Snow. What is he doing in here?! It seems, he goes to her, to his Queen and her quarters. She wasn’t in her…wolf shape.

- What do you think, are they going to settle it between each other?! Bolton?! – this question caught him unawares, he wasn’t taken aback, but it was puzzling coming from the Elf who dropped down his advances toward the elder man, the well – versed veteran who contributed so much to the Pack. – We will see. She stays with us to the end, that is all I realize, but I don’t know what is happening next. Both had changed since that day in Gondolin. It is still the same Jon Snow, but she gained insight and…we will see. And Haldir, can we finish this…some other time? – You are not getting younger.

- And I wish to preserve my butt from you while it is still time that is left for me. – Craven. – co*ck lover – and while Bolton and Elf are figuring it out as the Advisor and Hand of the King. Jon Snow got in, finding Ygritte in her familiar snowy, silver dress she always wore when there was something to be changed, signifying her maiden soul, innocent blood.

The one he gave her. Reminding him of the innocence which is still there, but he was the one who lost it, looking at her with the different eyes, not because of what she did or what he does, what is occurring, but the Life finds its ways to each side of the rainbow.

- Your days of the Wolf were over when Ghost died. It just heralded the ending and the new era of the beginnings – her chiming voice affected him, as it always did, but this time, it was distinctive, he doesn’t react to it as a man, but like the person. – You danced and howled under the Moon alone. I saw it. – There is something I need to tell you. – I know.

- I have the change of the heart. – I know that too…my little one… - his words of Elf seared her, full of unshed tears she is watching at the Wall who is battling himself not to fall. – I am staying with you to the end of the road, but then, we go by our separate ways if we live it through, the Call of the Wild is upon me and I believe… you got it… you woke up next to it… in the morning? Because your might of the Dragon is unlocked. I am so glad…

- You are mine, Ygritte, my little…you will always belong to me. – But you do not own me anymore and all what was told…stays for others who takes our places in their hearts. I am so…sorry… Jon. You will have to claim another…seize it. – Don’t be sad. I am Wolf… and I am… - Let me see it – she stopped him from telling anything more, and he got…confounded. From one small sack he carries around from this dayspring, from the changed heart towards him, he brought up into the light…the Dragon Egg of his. She gasps, breathless. Her eyes were breathtaking, glinting like the first morn of the new daybreak. Looking up at him, with his eyes…of the fallen tears which are arraying his Dragon skin.

- It is a small one, Jon Snow. – Just like you were. I always choose for myself…the runts of the litter, in this way, they all become just like I was, the Wall of the future. And you are not just the High Queen of your own might, but of Valinor and Dire too. There are King and Queen of Direwolves, but you shall be both. I always knew…I raised…the Great Empress of all the Wolves. My Ygritte – he barely spoke, feelings crushed him, returning his egg to his concealed bag.

- Do they know? – Not yet.

- How did it come about? When are you…expecting…Will it be… a boy? – Perhaps, even… hermaphrodite… you never know – he gazes up, swollen from the crying. Targaryens, so emotional, all what happens is because of their insatiable emotionality they can’t control. – What would you like to be? – she didn’t wait for long.

- Healthy, alive and happy…little dragon, and I don’t know when or how, but…it did take place in the Grand Cauldron of Erebor. – Please – she embraces him, touching the egg over which he wasn’t protective at all, just a part of him – take great care of it, just as you did with all of us.

- This egg represents all what I struggle against. – And yet, you are Jon Snow of ours. I believe…your father in all eternal nights, fought with you, to prove you the point…not to run away from yourself. You won’t be less, but GREATER! – He isn’t here to tell me that. – He is. Right next to my side. You don’t see him, you lost the sight, but I haven’t – Jon got mad, angered him so, not her, but him. – And what does that BASTARD OF THE FATHER, have to say?

Ned Stark touched Jon along with Ghost, and he sensed the touch like it was burning him alive, it was Ygritte who was doing it. Ned became one with the Universe which he walks infinitely until he isn’t called like Olenna is into the Underworld where the new lives are thriving, she can’t call anyone from the Dead who are yet to be reborn, but she can those who are howling by our sides. Beside Ned, Jon saw also, a white horse, that heralds changes.

- You knew and you didn’t tell me – the world stops to exist, there were only the two of them, with Ghost and White Horse. – If I did, would it change something, my son? I believe, it is also time for you to…mend the severed bonds with the one I have kept you away for so long, out of fear, the human one that you will be taken away from me. That someone would put its claim on myself and I couldn’t take to be separate from...

Jon didn’t hesitate, no longer, like a little boy he grabbed now the man who was older than him, but young in spirit, drawing him close to his heartbeats.

- I will tell our Great Queen, Catelyn, my Lady Mother… - No, she knows. Her heart also melted for you and she awaits your heart to return too, but, you have the birth mother who craves for your love also, do not deny my sister of anything, but you may of your own arrogance – he frees Jon from all oaths, for now he at long last follows his heart, no matter how much it was heartbreaking and Jon choked on his tears, not breaking.

The one who created you deserved better as well. And Ned for one of his final smiles, smiled gladly, leaving Jon alongside with Ghost and the White Horse, alone, who clutched at his heart and in the darkness, his cries echoed the hard pillared halls of the hewn living stone. People heard it, his were bewildered but Bolton understood like he always did. Out of all the Old Giants, he was the Titan who survives. Haldir, enquired, if there is anything they can do and Bolton answered as usual. No. This is something what it takes to become…King?
No, the Man. Jon Snow didn’t kill the boy inside him, he just grew up, this is what happened while keeping the child in himself…extant. Turning away, the Hand of the King, followed Bolton’s footsteps, both are going to drink something, they needed something strong. Roose wasn’t getting younger, but very much aged and all the change, just reminded him of the fact how old he has got. Ygritte held Jon Snow for some time, before finally leaving him too, it had to be. When there is no one else, he will bond to his Dragon egg. The doors closed behind him with a simple thud and he brought out again the egg out of loneliness. Hanging on the last of his desperation. Must he put it into something warm, or to respond how the heart follows? Walking into the fires? No, hugging it to his heart.

… He said it…Dracarys…and the egg…beamed with all the colors of the world, soon, it will hatch, out of the smallest, will be born the grandest of all.

I am Dragon. That was always my elven path. God, I beseech of you, give me patience of yourself, and, the Might to strike down all of my demons, so!
*
I will be your vengeance in your imagined gardens…Farewell Erebor, thank you for all. Be hailed Dale, welcome to another Paradise in Magic of East...far, far away from Home.

Chapter 79: The Great Wolf King

Chapter Text

Mountain of Doom is no more, the last who crossed were Jon and his Wolves, now it is a dark cage from which the Black wailing of Ungoliant (Lilith, Dark Goddess of the reimagined, mother of Dragonkind that is trapped in the beastly form) shall be unbridled, the one whom world dreads and prepares for. Wherever attacks first, they are next. Meanwhile, the pack arrived in Dale, with all honor and hail, full streets filled the excited people while the excitement could be cut by a sharp knife, the ones who yearned to see the famed Northern kin and out of all, their world famous King. Welcoming cordially, and so merrily into their once more renewed realm with the aid of both Elves and Dwarves, that was the Pact of the Cohabitation.

- DAD! DAD! – Bard nearly fell off his chair alongside his lunch, barely saving the soup he ate. – What, what?! Someone attacks?! – No, we have the guests and they brought their glory and fame to us! Even some of gifts and presents, and just imagine…IT IS THEM AND AMONG IS YOU KNOW WHOM, the one which the comet heralded! JON SNOW! THE KING IN THE NORTH! Come, Dad, come with us, to watch it! Tilda waits with Bain!

- I need to eat and go to my work, I have no interest or time to watch over some celebrities.

- DAD! What has gotten into you?! – Sigrid, I am late! – Who works today!? The King and his Pack of Wolves had come! – this is something that grabs his attention, Sigrid, who pulls him by a sleeve and he is unmoving, like she could ever move him from his place if he doesn’t allow it or want it for her to be so. She said, the King and his Pack of Wolves, and what about…the Queen? Or it was never meant to? Something was fishy to him, already smelly.

- There are two big Wolves with them, the smaller is classy and graceful! It must be the renowned Lady of Princess Sansa Stark! And the other one is of Valinor kind! – so, the disunion occurred. Parted. They…, no he could pass by their little kingdom, he came here ON PURPOSE. For one goal. Is he looking into it for too much deep?! – Dad! You are going to miss it! – I want to eat!

- Here, just carry it in this way and we go – putting the bowl into his both hands with the spoon, she drags him by the sheer Will, she was such an insufferable girl that he had to bring his lunch along him and eat on foot. It was the sight to be seen, everyone is cheering and saluting, while Bard was slurping noodles!
Bain was astonished, Tilda has never glimpsed at such Power and Might of procession while the kindred threw flower petals and buds at their very feet and even Sigrid did the same, with the full wooden basket of prepared blossoms and budding seeds. Intending to even one showers upon Jon Snow. Oh, did she miss him?! Is he coming?! Is he next? It is said he no longer rides Wolf, something transpired behind a scene, even among his Pack, unseen.

- Is he on the horse?! Can you see him?! Tilda?! – It is said that he let his men pass first, he comes in as the last, the one who leads the fellowship is his Great war wolfhound of werewolf blood. – How odd!

- Yes, the travels do that to you, this is what Dad always says, isn’t it like that Dad?! Huh, Dad?! – and Dad even dipped the piece of bread in his soup, stuffing himself, unaware how it looked, especially to his children, Bain waved his head, Tilda and Sigrid couldn’t believe it! He was the most notorious Dragonslayer and he acted like he was some sort of bum! Repeating.

- I am tardy. Work and you all school! – finally he finished, feeling better. Leaning all the way his bowl, until one shadowing shade didn’t appear and the people…fell very quiet, it overshadows Bard who brought down a main dish only to glance up at the force of Jon’s glare, both are locked in the stare, bolted and latched. The Dragon and Dragonslayer, with all the bowl and noodles in between. – Have a nice meal, Lord Bard – the man was unflinching, both were so.

- Your Grace, nowadays, the man doesn’t catch even the time to put something into his stomach. I apologize if my inconvenient greeting in any way offended you. After all, beware, there are Dragons who lurk outside! – Jon smirks at his cheekiness upon his raven horse. – I greet your children, they are all loveable – this she took as a sign, approaching Jon Snow without father’s permission and gifting him the most beautiful flower of her garden. Jon took it, surprised a little. Asking… - You are? – I am Sigrid, the oldest daughter of Bard the Bowman! This is my younger sister, Tilda and the heir to our father, the older brother, Bain

Jon had to admit to himself, this girl…no, woman knew how to introduce her family. It was evident that she is of the common birth even if her lineage stems from the great noble, but fallen houses of the Dragonslayers, the way she lived now, wasn’t in accordance with the feats of her father, living purely commonly with pride, but on the brink of the impoverishing lifestyle. Still, the way she held herself in her rags without even a touch of regalia spoke about her more than any Princess in the world, and how she spoke, it only was voicing the volumes, of which no one is uttering. She was the common girl to whom the fate wasn’t inclined, favoring her in the status that was beneath her. In an orderly, but the very poor looking dress.
Even her hands were sullied and nicked from all the hard work in the house. Alluding that the bearing of Lady was just a mask she kept on for her sake.

- You have nothing to be ashamed of and thank you for… - Sigrid grew upset, so, he already read through her?! Oh…it came to her, he can read her like the open book, because, after all, the rumors were the truth, he was the Part of the Elven Dragons. In him flows such a kingly blood and she has to take care of her words which are simmering in her head from this point. As of now. He chuckles.

- You are not so easy to read, sweet Sigrid, however, it is difficult for you to learn quick. Take your time, even if…I prefer to hear you – Jon’s eyes softened for this simple birthed lady who didn’t require any finery to entrance everyone around her. – After all, Wolves are into the hard won fights. – Such as Dragons of ELF.

Jon turns to Bard who in this very way…warned him. Not to cross the line. Yes, his family was lowborn and they are poor, but they held on the dignity and lived with the honor.

And if one from the North thinks that he is better than the people from these lakes, he is going to be heavily awed and why?

Because he took down the bigger than him, for the whole time, and certainly he doesn’t wish for any of his children be interlinked in Game of Thrones!

- Lord Bard, as I said, you have – his black raven of his, reared and neighs, making the clear message for which all other people started to go to their homes, leaving them speechless – lovely children, and some of them, are even lovelier with the fondly loveliness in them which they nurture abound by such fondness. – Your Grace, my black arrows had smitten even the grandest, why would you be…the exception, Jon Snow?

Jaime Lannister’s sword appeared out of nowhere under the chin of Bard, his children gasped.

This lion was so quick and speedy, swiftness is his creed.

- Watch your mouth, we haven’t come here to cause any trouble, we are just passing and leaving in the few days. – You could bypass us, but NO.

Brienne assuaged Jaime to put it down and he did, falling back, letting Jon to pass at their rear, he watches from behind, not at the front, let Ygritte leads and he protects at the end, that was the Pact once again, in between, cut.
Howsoever, one more time he took for himself to glimpse a glance at Sigrid who softly smiles at him, with her gentle hands resting upon her little sister by the side of her brother and grumpy father, they were the vision for the sore eyes and he doesn’t plot to ever stands in between to exploit, spoil or take advantage of, once vigorous streets are cleared or emptied, everyone turned to their previous posts, while Jon and his company are making the encampment not far from the northerly folk who were perhaps, meager but not less knightly or lacking valiance that garnish every household of the North’s kin.

They were just proud to get help for every little thing, they proudly managed on their own strength, to build a life of freedom for themselves, not on dependence from anyone. The Help is always needful for the poverty – stricken people, but the impoverished kindred of the High North doesn’t see their impoverishment as the sign of bad life, but the hard fate filled with happiness, something which Jon Snow, who grew up in luxury and comfort, knew little about, but there is one maiden heart could teach him about Life.

We have so little to offer and we would give you the world and that little of yours is the entire gladness. And God above was glad. As Eru always was.
Presence doesn’t make up for name nor shadow is true lone wolf or the strongest of all the best Starks out there, shieldmaidens are among the mightiest.
*
The blossom she has given to him was a Snapdragon. Powerful Crows from the North and the abysmal voice of Crow King were cawing all over places.

Chapter 80: My Great Lady of silver night, high lady of silverness, lady of dreams

Chapter Text

Looking back at you was the truth. Legolas could sacrifice elven horses although he knows that for the road to Erebor they are impractical for use, concerning they lost theirs for which the North people still lament for they were irreplaceable, particularly for Bolton and Lannister as so known Eastern Kings, honoring their sacrifices. But, Jon refused so, even so, despite protests, Thorin insisted to take theirs of dwarven blood too, strong and bulkier, yet no less in a size and vigor. In the meantime, while the Northern kin specifically wanted more to stay for themselves in their camp site, Sam mustered his courage and went to Jon to ask him one single favor, not the favored permission, but he was just yearning for another civilized world of humans too.

- Hm, Jon? – Ah! Sam, right on time, just hold this here, please for me – it was another nail to get fixed, he held it, looking away, and in one swift move of hammer it was…hammered down, affixed and firmly attached. Yep, he grows stronger every day and by each second, and more precise if that was of importance… - Thank you, what you wanted to ask me?

- Well, may I… you know stroll down to Dale? Most of the time we are surrounded by Elves and Dwarves…no offense, but this is like, the very first human settlement in the very long time and they are practically our kindred and… - Go, but return until the twilight. – It is not like you are to tell me when to return. I am a grown up man. – And, I don’t want to worry about you. – I know to take care of myself and I don’t need every single time to be rescued, I am saving you all most of the time if that is… - I know, still, I do not desire to argue with you. Just because they are other human beings, it doesn’t make them less unpredictable. – You are such an unbearable guy sometimes.

- Sam… - You will see, I shall get accepted in no time! – Jon exhales, let him do whatever he wishes, the subliminal plane of the mind told him. – Like I said, till the twilight. – What then? You will steal me? – Of course, Sam.

His relationship with Jon was getting better and better, with a sigh he got his consent. Why is he becoming so difficult to deal with? It has something to do with all what is transpiring to him and to them, and overall, they are the best friends, remaining to be so, brothers more than brothers, comrades and even Godfathers to each other, but Jon is changed. He can’t talk to him like he used to do it, mourning for the good old days when it was just him and Jon against the world, now, he is resembling Ned Stark the more he was going deeper into the matter, because his likeness is much more sustained in this form of his, than in any other.
Yes, it does, could be real…truthful. It was… Sam…Jon is becoming, became…a true King, there was no doubt, he is no longer that kid you used to know, with a heavy heart as his burden, Sam brought some money too, you never know. However, as soon as he stepped on the doorstep of the little realm, he was left in the honest amazement. It was brimming with life, modest ways of living and even people were happier than in the North, this is how it seemed to him and he was just blended in.

He went from the vendor to vendor, booth to booth and the more he did so, the more he was immersed in the entire experience. He loved it in here! Why? Because everyone were the same and equal, regardless of status or the bloodline, even if Bard was to be considered as some kind of leader and the rare royalty among them, he was just a man who did his work, and out of surprise, he came across with none other than Dragonslayer who looked like your normal, regular man and appeared worldly, not even a glimmer of some greatness was in him, nor he ever emphasized it in any way, he was the citizen of Dale, his children lived and were raised here, and he was a happy, healthy man in Dale.

- How may I be of service to you, good sir! – with this man in front of him, Sam was with no words, for a man who spoke a lot and always had something smarter than rest of his folk to say…

- Oh, you are a blacksmith, Sire?!

- Please, just Bard or Sir is enough if you mind, and yes, I am not anymore using my flatboat, those days are over, but I am good at certain things which I just had to hone better and you are, as we presume, from Jon’s kindred, right?

- Yeah, something like that. I am also of some House that threw me away to starve and die out, but Jon was the one who saved me and brought me into our society that consists most of the time, of royalties and…

- You are not…finding yourself among it all anymore, right?

- No…Sire… I mean, sir… I am just… - for the first time, in the longest he remembers, he broke in front of the stranger, for he held it for longer than he thought within himself, letting it out all, with no shame for they were in the separate section, veiled by the tapestries and all sorts of materials – not feeling myself amongst the Giants and Titans, I am just the most ordinary and… - he stopped in his lamentations, because the girl of all his dreams and the fairest of them to his mind, has just showed up next to sympathetic Bard who felt his every word like it was his own, this is the MAIN reason why he never took an offer to be some…King or whatever, he wished for a typical, mundane life for his children, far away from the Kings and Thrones.

- This is our Gilly. My greatest aide, and though we enjoy the protection under which we thrive from the side of Dwarves on one and on the other are Silvan Elves, still, we are govern our own lives and the women like Gilly spin the Wheel of our world – she blushes at this compliment - you may tell her everything your heart desires and when you make up your mind, come to me and we will see what I can do for you – he winks at Sam who was conquered.

There is no back, Gilly became henceforth his everything. Bard saw it in him and thus the saga of Sam and Gilly began, perhaps, for some usual and plain, but for the two of them, it was the magic itself. All what he was or will be, was because of her, like every pair of eyes were on them, feeling their love and kindness. All the while, Bard in his smith’s shop continue to work on what he started, thinking to himself of the dark demeanor which Jon Snow was sending forth. Bard doubted him, by now, all knew that he is Elven and Targaryen, that meant, the dragon they scorn, the bane of their realms. Despite the truth of all truths, what his naïve people saw is the Wolf of the North, be he white, grey, rare dark – grey, brown or the rarest black, he was in the world, well known King in the North. Into this seemed thought, he stops when his landlord showed up, by his side to help him out.

- I see that she is more in love than selling – Bard smirks. – Everyone recognized him as soon as he entered, he is harmless. One of Jon’s. – And how do you think that their King will react to such freedom his friend exhibits in front of our workshop? – I presume, he is going to manage all by himself. He knows what he wants, it is another thing that someone holds him back – and that someone was growing very, but very impatient, for his Sam should have been already back, sundown was arriving and he doesn’t see his Sam on the horizon.

He will just have to go back for him himself, he won’t send anyone to does his command that he gave to Sam. He was a fool to let him go, like the dog you release from a chain, ugh…and this Hand of the King only added insult to his injury. How to be more Elf, not even listening to him or paying him heed. Just because he accepted him into his Pack for being useful, bending the knee and by a blessing of Gandalf as his Hand, it doesn’t mean as if now he must even suffer his idiocy, so this is what his father Ned at all times warned him about, that he just has to sit through it or he shall never figure out where his threshold is being tested.

- The first step is to look ethereal, people use very much that word for a good reason. You see this is the posture. Ethereal, and we must work with that voice of yours as well to swoon everyone you pass by and shave that beard – after this, Jon battles his urge to bite Haldir back.

- Just one more time make such a suggestion and I will make of you human!
- Ah, so you possess that sad*stic, sordid and kinky streak of yours as well! That is great! I am so glad, I totally thought you are lost to your role of human – Jon facepalms, no use, there was no saving, neither for him nor this idiot Elf who purposely tantalizing him, to harden his wits, but then, he mentioned something which caught his attention. – Your Shield is maintained just by your Will, so, no Will, no Shield, Jon Snow. Remember and do not ever forget as Elf. All clear? And have you listened to any of which I spoke?

Jon glimpsed at him like he was Ghost. Paled and swallowing hard. Elf sighs in depth, oh, Jon Snow, his mind was elsewhere, better to let him go and find his Sam. But before it, he highlighted, that there is one more reason beside Tauriel, for being allowed within Erebor, whom he and his famously regarded Pack took in as one of their own, notoriety of his Wolf people who consisted of variations of warriors, noble and common who shared feelings of mutual acceptance and acknowledgement on the side of his name and human ears is that Haldir was from the notable Lorien, gardens of the hearts that lies in elven roots. Dwarves adored their Silvan, and Sindar, and Noldor great Witch Queen Galadriel who made quite an impression on everyone who came into contact with her, even Jon who fought her likewise, of course, why wouldn’t it ever be different?

And upon mentioning all of this, only now he took notice. Discerning and remarking, she is nowhere to be found. Where was Tauriel? Little did they know, she sneaked in the dead of the mid night to visit the old friends on whose door she knocked and she was greatly received in with warm greetings. This only indicated one thing. Jon was on the hunt. To find his elven She – Elf warrior and get his Sam back. This was all falling out of hand for his tastes. Returning back what was HIS. On this night, one little star twinkled the brightest against dark.
Others stayed on watch as brotherhood and sisterhood of the Night’s Watch. Therefore I am on my watch that begins and never ends… one more time. Devour and drink from the Fount.
*
Misty Mountains which range over North and East. Shared together between the related kin whoever or whatever, how much could give, though, there was no need. Don’t take us away from the life we know, no, no one to be stolen or taken evermore. Sigrid was the heartbeat that materialized her wish, she was the happiest woman alive, deciding she yearns to take a walk upon the closest glade of dandelions, amongst the wolf flowers and Snapdragons.
*
The one Jon protected and kept fondly which she graced purely to him. Owning what belongs to us, we don’t return what we claim, thus far. One parent gives birth, another raise and give us a heart. What is a realm, when our is the Universe.
Even during an intercourse of mingled bloods, something is coming to pass in melding inside, growing rejuvenated in doing so. For how many people as Jon, grow steadfast, out there, fighting firstly themselves and then...the whole world. Father, watch over us all. Believe in us.

Chapter 81: Someplace, over the rainbow

Chapter Text

There are a great number of those who can’t take the status of others, because it follows you through life, and all what you have is your name attached to your identity, even if you achieve the greatness, the shadow remains. Perhaps, the world that is coming will fall along the positions and names, this is what Sam thought while being with Gilly who was a dream that came true and now he is living it. If he must, he will fight the Windmills, but going back to the North he won’t. For the library and everything else, he got it covered like he never meant to get back.

Here, people need his counsel and guidance more than anyone. It wasn’t selfish, for the first time, he does something as such, selflessly. Weary and worn out, he found his joy that won’t be replaced with anything else that comes, who has nothing to prove but to be himself. It doesn’t mean that he isn’t remaining a part of the North, yet, with his stay, it would further affirm relations between High North and the North in the East. With heavy hearts, it will be difficult for all, they grow fond of him, distinctly Bolton, but he won’t be anything else but his own Master.

Once, he even made a suggestion, where everyone should have their representatives, it would be…a democratic society, others sneered, because everyone loves the High Seats, Tables and Thrones, the great ones, well, not him, not anymore, you can be equally successful even without anyone to push it to the anarchy and where in the chaos you might prosper and advance. Just contemplating of leaving it…Jon and others, everything…broke his heart, but what is out there for him, anyway? He won’t drag Gilly away from her home, it would be unfair.

Unbeknownst to him, Jon uncovered their hiding, of both and he understood everything by just watching. With every passed moment, Jon’s insides were gut wrenched. Like someone goes and pulls his visceral entrails, one part of him, was gone and it went with Sam. No one had a right to interfere in someone’s choices or life, then, it would be clearly selfish. Sam never asked for anything, just one thing, to be happy. He really liked the East, he was aware of it, saw it himself, from the first moment loved these lands, even admired something common as snow in there, everything was different in here and seemed more ethereal. But, the dangers were ones which discouraged him while this place was the fulfilled dream.

- Is it perfect, my Sam? – both of them were stunned from their love, standing up, the two in front of King of the North.

- Jon…I would come to speak to you…I wish it, to stay, we need to talk about my stay with… – shying oneself.

- I love it here, please, don’t force me to return, and even if you make me, you feel a need to haul me...I just… - Jon raises a hand in the sign of silence, putting it down when all what was listened to were spring cicadas and the twinkling of the stars, while the shy Moon was behind the cloudy skies.

- I knew you were never…that you would never be truly happy in the North… our North – glistened were the unshed tears of the King. – You stay my King and it would do great for the bonds of both kin while strengthening our…fellowship. You would always be to me… I never looked at you as… - Sam approaches the broken Jon… - you are a friend to me. Comrade. You stay my brother out of all brothers we have got. I am always here for you, for all thanks to you, my tidings can pass through Magic of either Far or just East. And tell others…I found my happiness. This is what I wanted. My own cottage, that I can live from what I passionately live for the most and just be healthy, happy and free from no one to judge me. I am No One, Jon. But for East, I am everything and all this with your Queen…I am mindful that this arrives at the most unprecedented moment!

- You are my all, how am I going to move on without your friendship Sam? You are and you stayed my true… - To you, but to others…I am just a cook and small librarian. I wish for a life where that would be more than enough. I am sorry, I was never the one who pays attention to bloodlines or lineages, but now, I must, because it spins the Wheel. I am the common and we are as much as you are, real, still, more or less, our wishes are denied and we become pawns in the Game of Thrones. Well, no more. This is your War, it was never mine. This is a punch in the gut which I impart - Gilly nears, taking his hand, both are holding hands.

- You will manage with all of our…people who chose you to carry on. Find the way so. I stay your friend, and…I left even the recipes for the apple pies – Jon takes Sam into his powerful embrace, together with the woman he never met, yet, it was like he knew her his…entire life, how strange? Déjà vu feeling. Snuggling into their warmness. He understood.

And this is what Ned also forever preached. This is what it means to be King. Losing friends and being alone on the CARVEN THRONE. The friendships survived, but never the bond they once shared, and now more than ever, Jon had to let it go.

Nonetheless, there was a requirement to pay.

Yes, there for ever and ever was if he wants freedom, Jon this time didn’t act as a man, but the Targaryen.
- I demand from you, I require... – two lovebirds turned very scared, never to experience it alone on their skins another side of Jon Snow, the one for which you have no dream to envision, darker than ever if you deny him, there will be Blood and Fire to repay too, flows his blood of Dragon through - to be to two of you, your Godfather for real and Godfather to your children. This is a Pact. If you do not give me at least that Sam, then, I would either force you or KILL YOU – this was what it meant to be a Targaryen, madness slowly overtakes with each lost part of his life, but if Sam submits for a little bit, he has on what to hang on. Still, alas, humans remain humans, like he didn’t know them by now. This only made Sam and Gilly the merriest couple in the world!

- YES, we accept! Would we all what you claim?! We do! – in one voice, disregarding the fact that in Jon works his blood against him, understanding his depths even more than anyone would of his kindred likewise. And it didn’t stop at this, Sam took one of his tiny daggers, slicing his hand across a palm, it hurt after which he handed it over to Jon to do the same, who eagerly, relieved, emulates an act and both palms in dripping blood were connected forever. The two men, the two names, the two houses as one entangled forevermore. Sam and Jon.

Willing or not, he evermore had the family to come back to in the warmest welcome. With no judging, with no expectations, just being what he is, JON.

Never staying in your shadows. Black eyes met ardent ones. Sam was no weakling, he went all the way through, to the end, without allowing anything to be eased to him even though no one would have anything against, for all it took courage, and in one way or another, he kept his word he gave to Feanor, and now where is Tauriel, where did she go off without King’s permission? Those bloody Elves and unpredictability of theirs. Jon went to search her, in hope, he is in the least, bringing her back to the Pack, the least he could do, sealing fates of his Sam and his Gilly to his being and the Will.

Meantime, like enthralled from the underworld, in the Netherlands where the afterlife meets its light. The children harkened to what Tauriel has to say and retell her relived adventures in doing so, whiles the father was still worrying, what took Sigrid so long? Where was she? He will have to go after her if she doesn’t appear until the clock signifies the midnight. In spite of woe, in a warmhearted company, hot peppermint tea and an apricot tart which they by full hearts served to her, for even little, they would offer to anyone who comes to their Door. Even if, Tauriel doesn’t request, elven women by all means, are eating less, and never foster big appetites, principally, were more into rules of manners. Noticing nervousness of Bard who got unsettled because of the arrival of the full grown Dragon.

The one who hides the secret so deep with which he never strides anywhere without it. Something you lose, something is got in exchange. His dragon egg should have been kept in warmth until the hatching, but all what he does is carry it around, hidden. All the while Feanor’s first wife got reincarnated, mother of 7 sons, hence, their joint parting reunion and disunion was complete, just like in case of his little brother Fingolfin who stayed in wedlock for the sake of the tradition, having his youngest son’s wife as Mistress, her second Lord. Lastly, among the firsts who broke all traditions, just like Robb Stark of the Gray Wolves. Mistress (concubine) is free to do as she sees fit from him, handing her fully over to his youngest Prince while taking second High Queen he keeps all to himself, his Lioness, and his past First Consort is having her free lands to self. Creating her own haven under the same sealines we are all sharing together. When someone asks. Has the life changed? Answer would be. Indeed.

Oneself.

Somewhere over the rainbow,
Way up high,
There is a land that I heard of,
Once in a lullaby,

Somewhere over the rainbow,
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream,
Really do come true.

Down the road with Life, someplace over the rainbow…we meet again.

Chapter 82: Am I enough the way I am?

Chapter Text

Under his black hood, what he carried with himself was nothing but a name now, bound to the acclaim. Jaime feels all what Jon and vice – verse, their half hearts bleed together for some time. This is where begins the gift of life with lavender eyes, dark and deep, who Jon doesn’t hide anymore, the ardent ones which were revealed on the night of Red Wedding, and those were one more proof that he is Elf of Targaryens, no matter, for what people take notice the most was his presence of the Dragon. Taking a life is the cycle where one ends, another starts, while searching for his She – Elf that swore to him her allegiances. He recalls asking Rhaenyra in secrecy how she feeds her Dragon. Because when it occurs he wants to be prepared for this!

- Oh, Great Uncle! – Shhsh, please, just be quiet, keep it as low as you can. – You sound weird, you look outlandish – it looked like Jaime was doing a good work with her and there was also Brienne by their side, in regard to her standing and the way her vocabulary gets enriched with each passing day – does it mean you have something to confess and you withhold it to yourself? – a sly lioness, more than Dragon, like grandpa.

Even how he feels around her, being addressed as Great, or just treated in the same way he behaves, or acts toward her, it was reciprocated, and shared.

- Does this have connections to your…I mean… - Does everyone already know?! – Not all, the rest forevermore stays just yours, within you or…ours if it is having a tie to another, but… - You are wise for your years, too wise, wiser than…you have matured beyond your…

- That is because I have already lived, my soul is still young but…sometimes, the oldest and the wisest of us, peculiarly stronger…are in need for our directions when you are not certain, which way you covet to go – taking him by the hand, he let her do it, lead him through the darkest and deepest nooks of Erebor, with each step, the blood in him was inflamed, the sense of his insides being spilled, while he chokes on his own ire, upon all that takes him to the verge of snapping, his half heart was set aflame and all what he knew was falling apart, Jaime prayed that his silver daughter will calm King’s sense, of their Jon, so far, this little girl discovered and explored more with her baby dragon than any of them ever will, bold and audacious.

Never letting go of his hand, tomorrow morning, they are leaving, there will be no sleeping for Jon Snow or her either, but it will be worth it when she sat down beside him and just listened.

- Whatever I do…I am in the wrong. I will never be enough. Be King or the serving knight, I am No One even with the crown. I would like if there would be someone who feels the same as myself and then, I would in return, understood that man as well. I haven’t deserved this…Rhaenyra. I loved…I still love her so much – Jon was shaking from the emotional outbursts, of emotions which were wrecking both his mind, elven body of the half – breed and that poor heart of his that barely survives – I am going to die, I can’t take it anymore. What did I do wrong?! I haven’t asked to be born?! All what I wanted is…what I always craved is to protect my North, to bring glory to my lands…to be someone…who people look up to, not fear and look with disdain and this is all what I am becoming…what I fear…the most… and I am so sorry…I should have been the adult here, you shouldn’t hark this lamentation of mine, miserable and vile – oh, but she listens and like the old Rhaenyra was back, in the glimpses, in her eyes, wasn’t the small girl anymore, it was her. BLACK QUEEN of Targaryens who fought her brother for her Throne, winning the game, losing a life to destiny.

- Are you finished with this ego trip of yours? Aegon? – Jon has got besotted…- Rhaenyra? – Yes, I am Aegon, but not the girl’s body I share, she is me, I am her, when we were younger and sorely naïve, even my voice is distinctive, right? I am back, just for a moment, to tell you something. I couldn’t then, for you weren’t even existing, only 200 years after, the last Targaryen was given birth, it was you. And let me tell you something, what my Father told me, about Song of Ice and Fire. About the Prince promised, the King who must sit on the Carven Throne, about from whose blood it will flow and it has nothing to do with being a Targaryen. We were wrong. We are deluding ourselves with statuses and powers, in the end. I lost, not because I wasn’t just or right, it matters less, but we forgot who we are to people. We forgot that we are first a person, then their rulers!

If he does not indulge himself, he would lose all ways. Rhaenyra Targaryen from another Life and dimensional plane, is advising Aegon the Conqueror.

- We walked the mistaken paths, often, we pleased the rules, never ourselves, and when we did it, it was the ATROCITY. We think that this Song is about good and bad, we believe it is Fire and some Iced monster, no…Jon…it was – she closes the gap, but never going further, there was the line in between them – in us. All this living in the moment and letting go… IS A FAILURE. Never let go, never give up to those who do not wish for you anything greater than to stay in mud, so that they would feel higher. You are you. And there is nothing erroneous in staying just the way you are. Trust me, I ruled with the Iron Fist and it was like Lannisters foretold, those who disobeyed, remember me just by Flames!

This was crucial why he granted freedom to Sam who was the mirror to him. You know, it is very hard when you are alone, but Jon, the first time in his life, knew, that he wasn’t ever alone. HE HAD THE MIRROR. And that mirror was SAM all along, when you look into the mirror, fairly enough, you see what kind of man you have become, that told you, that everyone is someone but the society asserts the norms where you must prove your WORTH!

- It is disgusting. We are miracles just for being born! What is there for us than just living our lives the best we can and to those who want to take it from us, SEND THEM TO ALL SEVEN HELLS! Embrace yourself and your endless might, in just one finger, you contain all the worlds of our spheres by life. Forget what people are telling you and just concentrate on the goal. And what is your aim?! Your Holy Grail is saving family and there is nothing more important, and it isn’t the blood, it was the emotion, the feeling. YOU ARE THE MOST POWERFUL KING of all Elves and Dragons, not because it was given to you. Nothing was bestowed, you earned all, but because of that IRON WILL, you are the Best even when you fail, go and fail again, when you are on knees and bowed. You are the Great King of the North, greatest ever we had and as far as our eyes – she holds his face cupped between her hands, he is enraptured – of elven are meeting the last of what we see, in there, lives a hope!

No longer there was the child, in her place was…indeed, Rhaenyra Targaryen, full-fledged and matured, temporarily, and one of the fiercest and one of the deadliest Queens of Targaryen bloodlines, without her, there will never be Daenerys Targaryen. She was an archetype for a Queen who was coming. The Mother and the Dragon. And so it was, she gave him strong strength, even when he falls, to get him back on his feet, for you can’t ever bend any knee to the one who stays…bent over the sin. In the Great Queen’s stead, there was again, the small girl who was unsure of what was taken place, or was coming about, or what was to be brought about, only that Jon smiles tenderly at her, cuddling her in his Dragon arms. Really? What happened here.

- Have I carried myself away? – You did, but you know what – he was the old Jon back, this time stronger than ever – that is just fine, Rhaenyra. More than you will ever know.

She saved their Jon, widens smile in joy.

So happy. Embracing his big shoulders in turn while Syrax stayed calm and quiet for the entire time.

Wow, did his tiny heart has just glimpsed upon the woman and Queen she is to become?! If that is, better for her to shape up! She is she-dragon of Black Queen!
About to forget that once they were together, the life has given them another chance, the one she is not to forsake or waste, when the time comes to confront the old Ghosts and Phantoms of her past life, this time, SHE WILL BE READY. For she was just her, doesn’t have to be anyone’s daughter or granddaughter, what mattered is a heart that led both Jon and her to their alone forged fates. Tear-tainted eyes are replaced by wonder in the present.
*
Our eyes are wide open for what we reach in the darkness. Knowing everything when the time is ripe. Killing the boy in you, was never intent of virtue!
*
We have even mightier Will than all sins, even more was the redemption of the Fallen lost son, and now, the Life puts on his path something of miracle!

In the light where live the shadow lands. And when I only think…I wanted you…gone, deeming you…a woe.

Chapter 83: Bringer of Light and Bearer of Dawn

Chapter Text

Many tried, but only he let it happen. It was like he was called from the deeps, and he feels the creation of the new Universe that is bred from itself, under the disguise, amid the green and tall hemlock leaves, he saw the maiden how she danced under the glistering moonlight that finally showed itself from its shyness, no longer staying in the shadows, she was revealed to him. He remembered her, the daughter of Dragonslayer. Sigrid, for a human woman she moved like a butterfly and danced with larks, under her feet, the petals were sprung up to even more gladden her soft feet. The most beautiful vision of the modest and simple beauty in the mold of a lady who had so little, but richer than all Princesses who had less in all the riches and luxuries, reminding him of only one woman he cared as equal as he is now about her. Sansa Stark. The light elegance and the gracious refinement, was Sansa’s trademark. The lady he was forbidden to ever touch and thus, everyone else paid the toll of his heat, but, this was different. He could feel it so.

- Who is there?! – she shocked him with her question, a common girl and she feels him? He doesn’t make even a sound that stirs the water and the soft breeze is caressing her golden tresses which are permitted to flow down, and fall over her gentle shoulders like the Great Falls of the Fountains. He garners his courage, and uncovers himself to her, putting the hood away from his head. Stupefied, she softly smiled back at King.

Never to guess it would be him. What he was doing out here in the wild? So far? Did he search for someone? Another woman, only to find the woman.

- Your Grace, would you like a cup of peppermint tea, I have brewed it and prepared, my house is on the first hill, you see and… - the gleam in his eyes, told her something else, this was a man in front of her and it is even prohibited to have her hair down or in any way unkempt before the King, so she pulled it up with her tie, but to no avail, he captures her hands in his, placing them at her sides, allowing him to touch her, to run his fingers through her silky curls, which are entrancing him so, pulling to her… and out of instinct, he put the hand on her stomach, this was so unusual for her. She heard about Dragons and ruts, it seems, he was in one of them, unfulfilled, oh… weren’t children born out of it, abnormalities?

- There is the exception if it is of the free will and marked with no way to remove it unless…there is no more love that binds us to each other – she placed her hand over his larger. – What are you evaluating, am I fertile, on my days of blood, or healthy? – No, just… I am glad you have opened your mind for me and still, I need to read your body too. – What was the point of no return? When did it start for you…Jon? – It starts with your name and ends…with peppermint – she grins at this confession.

- I was bewitched by you, even without seeing you, just through stories, I told myself, this must be some very handsome guy – he bursts into a small laugh, but it stops when she asks. - Is it true, what my father, says, that you have come here for a bride? – Well, among all other things…yes. The King without a consort, is nothing more than just the barren soil, or that is what they say, for the Queen may stand alone, but the man…hardly. And, even if you were more imperfect than you already are – she beams at his quips and jests, reacting to his masculine manhood in comparison to her tender femininity. So disparate and yet, they are suited so well to one another. – Do you…want to dance? – I thought you would never offer the dance – and so, they both danced away under the dancing moonshine which was glowing brighter when all of the stars upon a heavenly vault twinkle together nobly.

In his arms…For the time being, Tauriel kept herself at Bard more than intended, but it was such a long time she visited, that children didn’t want to let her go, and neither he was for such an idea, for he was grateful to her, appreciative of her and her nobility, if it weren’t for her, he would stay without his children and for that, there was no coin to ever repay or pay it back to her, no matter how much he endeavored himself. Smoothing his nerves, she talked of everything they sought from her and she gladly granted, but when it came to the certain person in their history, this is where he raises his head from his dream state, returning his attention to an empty seat on his side. Sigrid, where are you?! When he gets his hands on her. She became so defiant.

- What is wrong, Bard? – Nothing, it is just, I don’t like the mention of his name in my house and under my roof. – Relax, Jon is a good King and his people love him. No one is perfect and I urge you, Bard, to be the first who will throw a stone at him, for you are the only with no sin? – That is not the point. – What is then? – He is Dragon. Targaryen Elf and…

- So, we are going on the rampage and kill all the Dragons for sins committed against our lives, our homes and greenwoods where houses are taken down and households burned, I know the pain, for what, really, than just to suit our egos, for there will always be another threat even after them, even worse to come, at least, keep one foot at the gaping pit and with your hand hold on what it could become our ally. – You believe in this? – Why not?! I know…there will always be skirmishes with them, but in the least, I harbor a hope. – That is my endearing Tauriel, a fool’s dream. – What can I say? I would rather die a fool, than living all my life the way you do. In hate and resentment. – They don’t even attempt to fight it or change their nature, just follow with their instincts which are putting each of us in the predicament, in one highly awkward situation.

- And we are all like better at doing anything? Humans are no weaker. Distinctly when it comes with bettering ourselves? – All I know that I fight my whole life, Dragons, I fear them and I do not foster any desire that even my children live in the great fear as well, but be free of them.

- Bard – touching his head, only burnt him, not endeared, and the knock on his Door, heralded something much more peculiar. At first, he was hesitating, strangely, there was no answer when he demanded who is knocking at this wee hour. Feeling familiarly. Upon opening, it was the face of all his nightmares, the Dragon on his doorway with his disobedient elder daughter, everyone gasped, staying without the air in their lungs, especially brother and sister like they always do whenever the storm is being brewed. Why? For she was almost leaning on Jon’s black armored chest, while he acts as Wall of the North for her.

- Father? May Jon Snow come in? If you approve, of course. He is just someone I brought to you to meet and he looked for someone that is his and she is in here with us. Please! – a voice of nightingale and with the womanly tenderness she was endowed plentifully, in contrast to the manly voices of the depths whose crossed icy arrows which are thrown between the two men didn’t go unnoticed, but plainly much spotted. It was so unreal, that even the flowers who grow and are revived by the presence of Elf, started to wilt.

- So, you have finally come. Jon Snow. – I am just asking for Tauriel and for her to come back – at this command, she stands up. – As long as you are tied to your vow and it means to me and to my people, specifically to the North, not even once you are going to wander away without my or anyone’s else permission, when you complete your duty, you are delivered from strict service of mine and it is given back to you to serve whoever you aspire next, until then, you are to revere our rules, and laws of highlands. – Forgive me – feels unsettled, not looking away in shame when finding oneself in front of King’s disapproval.

Bard opened the door wide. Let him in, when he already took over their lives in a matter of day, therefore, he was relieved to step on even in the inside.

- Which I will do, happily. Bard, I am welcoming myself in – Bard was wonder-struck by this insolence, but he allowed to be so, for his daughter.

He will do anything for his children, even if it doesn’t sit well with him, upon closing the ironwood door behind him, Jon feels a thump of relief.
There was no any reason to act the way he did, but the nature calls when he is being threatened by the very negative aura, such as was Bard’s, and it is always when it doesn’t suit his tastes, either of his children or the choices he makes even for himself. Bard became one begrudging and filled with hatred man and maybe, one Dragon Elf, was needful to his household, to show him that as soon as Jon went in, the Life came back, it was blazingly chasing away all the shadows which have been befalling since the day of his wife’s death, leaving him a single father, and his children motherless, and now, it is Past.

Once upon a dream in a little realm of Dale, lived a Dragonslayer, his beloved daughter found out that the warmth from a touch of Dragon, enlivens all.

There is the myth about the prettiest flower in the realm which is the delight that grows out of stone, and one such a miracle, near Bard’s house and home was giving its first bloom. And while honorably they all stood up at Jon’s entrance, honored he did them with the rest of their companions by gifting the health and long life with its enormous presence as incarnated Lord of Light, while his nested egg that is safely stashed, started its dance of rainbow lights unsighted, which meant only one thing when scales commence lightshow, presences of other Dragons who are unyielding in their pursuit, of what they lost, they wish to regain. Unaware of the concealed danger, Jon and others had a lot to talk about, whiles Jon’s dragon eggs continue as a small glow to shine the brightest when it is surrounded by the darkness and supported with the starlight of its silver shine.

Those were nights, not like today, when the simplest sheen and the glittered luster were sufficient to compensate for the lack of Sun or the Moon, a primordial land of the ELVES.

Chapter 84: Boy of God Dragon, I live, my brood and I

Chapter Text

It was the Leap of Faith which Tauriel witnessed with Bard who still threw all his invisible black arrows at the Dragon who dared to even sit beside his daughter, let alone for even touching her. And what he feared the most, it came into the being in the form of…f*cking Jon Snow. Yet, what was plainly obvious, why such similar men can’t ever find the common ground? Because they were too much the same, identifying with their landscapes so!

- Do you want more tea or pie? – Bard asks when no one does, for the silence at the table was…well, dreadfully prepared for some kind of burial, and not for the living. – No, I ate it already too much. – I can see it for myself – this was going nowhere, as a matter of fact, they started their game with the double meaning while all three children and Tauriel let it go, for a moment.

- I have a big appetite, and if I eat well, I can endure for days without food or water. – You mean, years…Elves can endure hunger and thirst for around 30 years…and still die off from the famine if they are young children, or if they are eaten too… by their own Dragons or some fell beasts. – It seems, you ate a lot of sh*t, so that you now can crap all over us, I don’t mind myself… I am used to it, but please, your children are here.

- Do not take my children’s names into your mouth. – And you watch your tongue, not because I am your guest, but for less…I took heads. – This is why I say that you should never house a Dragon or be a host to one who came here to pick flowers of identical color as the lavender eyes in which the credulous lost themselves in, but not me.

- You know, there is the myth about the Dragons, the flower that grows later is not the one who becomes the fairest, for when it blooms, it leaves everyone breathless with its presence. – That is their culture, with us, those who are tardy, lose a chance. – Ah, then, why are you not the King, but I am? – this was low, even for Jon Snow, but he doesn’t take anyone’s excrement out of goodness. He was a real boy now, and even a good man, foremost, he was even a better warrior with brains and political skills which are prompting him to best even the best, it was the courtesy of Sansa Stark, she is a great teacher to all when it comes to all schemes and witty brawls. Just ask her, anything, she will know. Even with organizing for the winter, how many supplies, reserves they will be in need, and even to expect the unexpected, next to his sister, no one goes hungry and there is even more than sufficiently left for the Dragons as well. Even as a little girl of ten, she led the household.
Yes, Sansa was more of the maternal figure, someone who belongs to the House and who is associated with the home. That was also her mightiest red blooded strength by which she prospers and in which she finds herself. The one who knew how to weave her own clothes and didn’t seek any help from anyone when it comes to the certain matters of being the Lady. Oh, Lady Mother, Great Queen Catelyn learned and educated her daughter well, except for Arya who was more like the Aunt, but there must be someone who is the Lady of their Roof too, not all women or men are destined to be warriors, knights or Dames.

That is why Sansa who took after her mother, will one day, when he succeeds to steal her away from the Dark Lord’s hands, will become the crucial figure in governing their Winterfell and the North. But, that Celebrimbor, the Lord of the Darkness and Rings of Power was in his way, not for so very long, it will take some time, but he is now the Man of the pure Will, unbreakable and unbending, unbowed to NO ONE!

- And so, who wants more…tea or some cookies – Tauriel clears the dry throat, starting to drink when nobody else dared to ease the atmosphere, Bard snorts. – King doesn’t eat cookies. – I certainly wouldn’t eat yours! – this was becoming ridiculous. Tauriel nudges Bard who was compelled to promptly just…do the prompted. – You see, I chose this hard life for myself and my children, because I know how much gold that glisters as the Sun or all that fame and glory can be intoxicating, but on the other hand, this is where lies the trap.

- On the other hand, you do not permit neither of your children to experience life as it is.

- Full of pain, just as your family feels.

- Better in this way, rather to end in death, but to never know for the better, and I am not taking of economical or financial situation – he looks around – it is just fine and preferable, cozy, but what you deny them is the right to choose their own paths.

- Bain is going to take my place, Sigrid will govern her own family and for Tilda… - here he stops, all eyes are on him – she will become a woman and then, another idiot – he glared straightly at Jon Snow – will come to take her as you are doing now to my Sigrid. – She is a full-blooded woman. – She is my child.

- And all I see is someone who potentially may be my Bride, so, allow me to court her.

- You have already done that part, making advances as soon as you laid your eyes on her, why? What is the reason? Deep inside? – Jon exhales, glancing back and forth, before landing on dignified Sigrid and then looking up at Bard, delivering it to him, serving sincerely.
- In her lies love, she has nothing, yet, for one year, she has all of her to offer, youth, loving nature and a beautiful smile of the Moon. I love the truest gold which shines as the simplest raw diamond that is radiant with the brilliance of such liveliness, coercing even the best to bend to its immortal gleam, honest in shaping the evil on a pure whim.

Sigrid took the timid Tilda into another room, she was too much blushful, as red as tomato and if she stayed a little longer, she would burst it all out, Bain remains to watch how this all unravels and untangles, he was sorely into unfolding the mysteries, and he was glad that his sisters are getting the attention they deserved and that all the pieces are falling into place. It was a kind emotion, considering that his father is at last silenced. He addresses it.

- Your Grace – instantly, like he is wound up, Jon softness his temper at the first act of kindness, that comes from a male line of Bard’s blood, and it is the gentle Bain, who would assume that this boy stood side by side his dad and watched death in the eye at such a tender age which shaped him, he knew just by looking, this will be a warrior knight just like his grouchy father before him, but there was something, distinctly different about a boy, it was like he was glaring at King himself. Someday, this boy will make a difference with his sisters who are weaving their first and full baby steps, but he doesn’t have to know it, no one that Jon has attained insight thanks to Rhaenyra, but for self, he didn’t get.

Jon nods at Bain to continue, whatever is on his mind, he wishes to know, as a matter of fact, if all comes together, he becomes the teacher to this...boy.

- Oh, this was such a strange sensation, have you felt it? Your Grace? – Jon seemed perplexed, so, he was right about the boy. He was not his father, this was a young man who saw through diverse lenses of life, just the man he was in need for. The generation of Bard’s lines, are slowly dying out and it was taking shape of something…much more unique than what Bard could ever offer. He doesn’t shy from the challenge and he was ready to stare at the Life directly back to the core of its mind.

- I don’t know, you tell me? What is the point of what you want to ask me, young man – and it was something, he never deemed to live through. – Will your Dragon become the biggest ever known Dragon in our history?

The lakes got frozen for a second before the Time impels them to keep on their streaming inside their boundaries. Tauriel was like on fires, Bard so pale.

- Did you bring an egg into my little realm, Jon Snow? – Bard enquires, demands to know. – Rhaenyra and...
- Not of Lannister daughter, she is a lion too, Lioness, but your Dragon egg, Jon Snow – Bard stood up and the wan Jon took the egg for the three of them to see it. It was rather…small, smaller than usual and it was…black, the pitch dark black. – It will be a boy – Tauriel saw through the egg.

- You will get a son! – all brightened She - Elf who easily said her truth to Jon, made him melt away the last of his Wall in front of her. – Son? – Yes! And, he should have a name! – Wait, wait…this is… not fun at all, I don’t want that thing in my house! – Father… - Bain? – Shut up. With all due respect, shut up, Father – and what could Bard do, then just sit back and watch what transpires, for both Jon and Tauriel were in the state of enthrallment. – Name him.

- He…- sounds queer – has as yet to hatch out – this was going all wrong, he picked it up, but before he turned…he experienced all the shadows of Tauriel’s shadowing fury, growing celestial and scary.

Even Bard gulped down, everything got darker and even Bain wouldn’t be in Jon’s shoes, this woman was almost never angry, but when she is, oh Eru.

- NAME YOUR SON, JON SNOW, IF YOU TURN YOUR BACK NOW, trust me, I will demonstrate that you are not yet, the most powerful.

The voice, the pallid glare and the stance was all what imposed on Jon to swallow up and just turn back to the table, holding his Dragon egg in hands, and so he said the name that shall decide the next tide of not only all 7 realms, but of the Universes, he uttered it and Tauriel let out a gasp, followed by Bard’s worried look. If this is true, Bain deemed, then this time, this dragon might be used for the forces of good if he is raised by a good heart of man.

- Ancalagon the Black, let your wings outgrow the mountain peaks and your flames would be a service to the both humankind and all good folks!

How fitting, it was all what calmed Tauriel could think of, while Bard knows when he is witnessing History, in his own HOME, this small hut of his, was just given birth to the most hailed names of the Dragon world. Bain was mostly glad he shut his father up, had no intention to give any room to father messes this up, he is their father, he loves him, he brought him up and schooled him, trained to replace him, but sometimes, parent needs to slow it down for the good of something new and different. And like the son of Jon knew its name even in a tiny shell, and under the wooden roof, it starts to glow all shades of colors, indicating not only when Dragons are near, for Jon Snow distinguished a warning he will spread but also a cheer he is alive.
Dragons of all Dragons, what is a Universe, when we have Snow on our side, someone who wants to feel all experiences and live it all the way through.

I will be born, my Lord, just like your color of black, fits you the most, and so I will be your suitable companion. You hear me? I am your baby. Your child, Jon Snow. I am your Dragon that speaks to you. Wait for me, grow patience and when I show myself to the world, it will stand still and all what you could deem, it shall be. Let even One Ring senses me. And it was so, nothing escapes, not even the light. Celebrimbor for the first time feels a fear!
*
With death, we take our flights, there is the place where you can’t look into,
neither reach us nor follow, and all of you with elven powers and winged beasts,
stay stuck on the ground with Life, and even your elfin arrows are crowned Snow,
letting swans hold a special sign abound, you can’t take us away from the Death,
painted grace of swan like creatures, always bejeweled the wellspring founts of the House of Fountain,
this is the reason why Swan obtained her heir in a form of the most stunning Elf Prince ever, the gem of Gondolin,
the heart of all elvish realms and who is a part of Targaryens just like the House of Feanor who also chose Valinor realm.

For there is always hope for the change of heart, to change your mind.
In Eregion (Hollin) dwell shadows, for we know who is in there, who rules,
and keeps the Northern Princess caged, in the black cage where still clunked the golden chains of severed, but fortified bonds.
And so, only the purest of the heart may enter,
to succumb its humanity to One Ring and defeat oneself,
At the end of the days,
It still remains unfair.
Change the Face of Nature, shake foundations of Arda.
There shall be no King but the King whose name is grander than Seven Hells of all Fire and Blood in Heavens.
While dancing shadows still grow higher or longer, casting the largest shadow on the Wall of the smallest unmeant.

Chapter 85: When Shadows dance

Chapter Text

Everybody, once in their lives, stood in front of the Wall in hope to find out the future of their Northerly soul. Sigrid hoped and so yearned if she could touch the Wall, to bring her there, to fly with him on his dragonback or even riding the Wolf. She was a worldly woman who had nothing to offer but her love and who longed for so much, but she was poor and deplorable, but there was the hope in the form of Jon Snow who would someday take her away and bring her to her real home, and if that never happens, at least, he gave her something what no one did. The beautiful memory in which she can live, for everything seems like a dream. Who knows if he survives, but then again, the promise is what will keep her alive. Tilda observes wishful Sigrid.

- My big sister?

- Oh, yes…

- You had no desire to stay in, there is something happening in there, coming about…

- You may go, I just needed someone by my side, but no…

- Why?! Why don’t you want to go back?! – Because that is a dream, and the dream is never fulfilled for the girls like us. So, don’t stress yourself with hopes and wishes, those dreams are nothing but the echo of our past selves. – But you heard what he said and…

- Tilda… - her sister wisely smiled at her – men say everything just to get through your defenses, Jon is the same. Be he King, bastard or the name of the knight who passed through, never fall for the man’s sweet lies, but still, his lie was the best. – He seems to me like a person who keeps promises.

- Maybe, but…eventually, he won’t be able to keep it and his word IS NOTHING TO ME. Because, there will come to him prettier, smarter and of the noblest blood and that would be the end. I am old enough to know when is my time to sweep and mop.

Tilda hated when her sister diminished her own worth, but she was immeasurably clever for a child of her age, every child is wise beyond its years when a life never cared much for you.

She wanted to shout at her sister, to prove her wrong, that just because they are commoners, low born, of the lowest birth possible, all of their ancestors are filling their blood with nobleness and valiance and she is spitting on their graves, but that was past reality.
- I wonder how it was…when lowborns weren’t equalized with whor*s – from uttering it, Tilda eyed her sister, there were days when they also basked in glory and fame, just like their ancestral names, but now, being on the other side of the fence, and for what? Didn’t seem right, but so very wrong… - and why would someone so nobly and lofty, sublime and high, dirty oneself with myself… - yes, after the happiness, comes the tailing shadow that was always right, and Tilda...stays in silence like all women before and after them, their silence never indicated resignation but the truth that wheels the world. There are no rules, but some laws are only created for the privileged.

Sigrid let down her golden tresses, brushing them with her hairbrush, it was sometimes so thick, she couldn’t run in through, and it would snap, Dad would always get another one, in the least, she was never spoilt and asking for the impossible. Modesty was what charmed her. Tilda said.

- Our mother used to brush our hairs, isn’t it? You remember, the mother, Sigrid? – the elder turns to her, with the eyes full of tears. – Sometimes, I wish he died instead of her, it would be hard, but I would be happier. Why did she have to go and him to stay? – she broke completely, letting her brush drop.

- I am so sorry, I just can’t help it nor fight! – and she silently fall to awaiting tiny hands of Tilda who welcomed her onto her child’s bosom, while she cries her soul out, sobbing and hiccupping, how she would love that her mother was here, to advise her, to say something to her, to give her counsel, she wants her mother back! The good times, yet, she still remembers the dance with the King she described to her adorable sister, it was just a dance. And so dreamily unreachable, did she even speak to him, has she really…danced with the King? The life she lives, plays very filthy games with her. Ah, and then, she slides onto the lap, and there both stayed, in comfort for each other, whilst Tilda was stroking her fallen tears along with the playful, and running wisps of tresses until sisters haven’t harkened it, the song...what was it? Does anyone hear it beside the two?

Both sisters stood up, their weary visages and the soiled cheeks from the shed tears are dried, and it was such a melodic music, they both beam at a song and it was like someone even…sings?

It is isn’t possible that no one hears it, for some time, both listened something that was real and reachable for them, all right, here goes nothing, looking at each other, they made a vow, they are doing this together, Tilda took the offered sister’s hand and through another backdoor, they went out stealthy, if anything, their steps are of the light wind and the two sisters are quite taken by surprise, because there were other children with them.
Sigrid was a woman, but still on the threshold of the childish mind and so feels calling as well, but who creates such astonishing keys of the violin, of any instrument with a voice of Angel alongside enshrouding darkness of the Devil? The minstrel who entertained and who loved life more than the thinking of death that offers no pain and no love, and in turn, all the children of Dale were disappearing in front everyone’s nosy noses and blinded eyes. Even Tauriel and Jon were that much into the enchantment, then, only much later…they feel that something, in the mid of the deadest night ever, something was more than eerie.

Humans can’t recognize it, but the Dwarves are by now alerted and so is Jon and Tauriel. He has got to go back to his people and…Sam, where is Sam, leastways, to know that the two are settled and accepted, surely did, yet soon, Dragons are coming, if they weren’t already here. Bard and Bain, without word, discerned the glares, and all four of them, raced into the rooms where sisters should have dwelt. No children, where are they?! Where are his little girls?! Bard was going insane from the worry and woes. Jon is lost in word.

- IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU BROUGHT THEM UPON US!

- Bard intended to slay him, but Bain stopped him, and Jon could only stand, defeated and gloom, even with all their might and powers, uncanny abilities, sharing a glance with Tauriel, even then, it was futile. Returning the egg to its concealing bag he kept strapped to his well – built body frame, back to its safety, Jon had to think it firstly straight, what next?

- Tauriel, can you distinguish, who is in question? Are you able to do it?

- I shall, wait a second, wait all here and Bard – she clutched his callous, manly hand, then saying – we will get them back. I promise. Bard…look at me, yes, have I ever failed your family? Did I?

- No, you didn’t. Eternally, I am grateful to you, my family and I – her heart skips a hearbeat as though only elven knows.

- I keep my vow, perhaps, I stray away, but I always come back on the right path, it is the same with Jon, trust him, trust this man, he will either keep his OATH, OR DIE DOING IT. There is no Third Wheel, for him – and Jon stood guilty, with pleaded eyes, he was no King but the Elf Man who just thirstiest for forgiveness and a chance which Bard in all his trepidation and a loss of wits, uttered.

- Jon Snow, bring back our children, back to us, to me, I have a feeling they aren’t stopping just with them – upon the given blessing, Tauriel let go and got it while they wait for her.
Bain next to father was nearly on the brink, whilst Jon grows his patience, if anything, he chose to be human of the elven heart, not the other way around like his Golden Uncle, but still, he will live longer than the rest of the humankind, in that being the actuality, he had time in the blink of an eye, and if Sigrid ever acknowledges him for real, even her life and his blood in her, during the love, would prolong the stay, so, you have time to spare, Jon.

- Is she truly that good? – Jon believes in her Elf capabilities…still. – You never saw them in action, trust me, she is the Huntress and Daughter of the Forest, she stalks these lands alike the palm of her hand, there is no person who knows better what to eat, when to rest, which water from a spring to drink or what is poison and what is not. She can read the Moon and Sun without anyone to count the Time, even now, she is listening to what Mother Nature tells her, nothing and nobody can escape her acute senses, be he or she from Heaven or Hell. – I see, and forgive me, I was too late to see them coming, when I found out, it was by then late – Bard says nothing with Bain, Tauriel is back. – It is Rhaegar Targaryen.

Of course, who would be else? He played and played, from the remote distances, Targaryens were noticing and at the same time realizing, that several children were fighting back against it, but sooner or later, they all succumbed to the power of the Dragon song, Rhaegar would just change the note or the pitch and it will do the trick, however, the children still, even if there was a glimmer of them, they still were coming very much slowly, but soon, they shall be theirs, hunted down not only as spoils, but the seeming advantage, the war had come to the Walls even of this far eastern part of the lands. Meantime, She – Elf is ready and listens to the following set of orders that are ensued, she goes back to warn the Pack and Jon stays here with the plan.

You never know from which shadows lurks the Dreamer of sin.
You crave for what is never to be anymore, never to return with virtue.
But what remains is the memory of old days.
When the Life was fairer than now.
So we speak and live as them.
But the skin is of distinct kin.
We should be those who protect, no bend…with powers.
The Line of Bloods, bide to be set alight.
Take all what Life offers and savor it till Dawn.

Chapter 86: A good man, the one we asked for and we earned to deserve

Chapter Text

Just like there are people who are without cages, who have nothing to lose, next to the good man of whom is sculpted the ugliest of all nature, and so that together, they make the most hazardous union in the world and beyond. Going back to all Seven Hell whence you came, indeed.

The ones who broke themselves to prove the worth of living. Fear from shadows overwhelms life and the parents were letting out the silent cries, in the night that promised the peaceful morning, only it never came and they found themselves with torches in each hand and upon the streets to demand justice, where are their children? It must be Dragons, Jon Snow lured them in here, bringing his own doom and unrest into their lives, in this way, they found themselves at the steps of Bard’s house, demanding to bring out his guests, they did it, specially Jon Snow!

It is his fault, he is to be blamed, he is not some Savior, he is the harbinger of evil and all wrong in the world. Knowing that Bard’s house is never empty and the uninvited guests always are in there, Bard watched from the window frame, leaned on the worn wall that needs a new color and by little, putting away some of the draperies, to peek at the situation outside while casting glimpses at petrified Jon Snow, leastways, Tauriel got away on time, he wasn’t still that much skillful in his agility.

- If you go out, Jon Snow, to excuse yourself, it will either end in carnage for you won’t hand your life to them, you do not forfeit yourself to be hanged, because that happens if you grant them the ill wish… - So…what do I do? Bard? – the older man, who preferred to be the Old Man from now because he isn’t as young as he used to be and his strength is not unrelenting as it was supposed to grace him, for he sees in Jon, not only the look of someone who wants to make things right again, but the desperation and hopeless fear from the ones who had every right to condemn him so.

The Pack was convinced that Dragons won’t catch up, certainly won’t dare to intrude due to surrounding Dwarves and Silvan Elves on each side, who won’t allow anymore to anyone soil their bounds, you don’t have to rile them up twice, yet, here they are, doubtlessly with Dragon companions, so odd, every Dragon who flies, needs time to replenish, but on foot, all Dragons proved just how much their will is of black flame, strongly burning and unbendingly showing the decisiveness to succeed against the outlook.

Targaryens, of all elven tribes, were the outmost oddities, because where there is no way, they either find one or they forge it alone. You may hate them or love, admiration lives on.

Where are Targaryens, called Dragon people, here are Dragons along with, who came all the way down to the Far East, thanks to the Bringer of Gift of two and by their own unbent determination to go beyond any bound, truth to be told, in some way, Bard had nothing but to admire such resolute resolve, something he forgot and now, even if they did the vilest misdoing against them, Old Song of Dragonslayer, woken in him what he was before and the son lastly, saw, after so many lost years which seem like they were eons, an ancient spark of Bard’s soul, his ghost that comes from himself and all unfortunate Lords who backed them up, at that moment.

Unaware of their presence, yet this was Bard the Bowman who turned to both son and Jon.

- I will go. You both stay. Not even a word. I know how to handle this. After all, I am their…King – in doing so, awing both hearts and spirits who stared at him like the last hope to calm the angry masses who called for blood, Bard raised his arms and up above his head, from one lonely hole, for his roof was full of it, at present, they knew why, he brings out one of his most world, disreputable, BLACK ARROWS.

- Stay inside!

He was on his doorstep with the symbol in is hand. People even more hollered for Blood and Fire, where are they children. Give them Jon Snow! They know he is behind that door, he is hiding him, how he dares, but Bard stood as the Wall, and only what Jon who had no wish to escalate a violent riot, could do is being with Bain, to witness Birth of King to this little realm of people, far from home, in the northern lands, their kindred and so their equal.

- Silence! Be silent you all! – Who is speaking to us!? The Traitor or the Dragonslayer?! – Bard comes down, people gasped out, for his valiance and the fearless nature.

- Who am I? I am your KING! – he looks straightforward into the eyes of everybody, who at that second, knew the truth, it was always like this. Whenever they were in a peril, he was braced when Dragons attack, Bard killed them all, one by one, just with his skill and black arrows, and so, he has got three heirs, suffering as much as them, together, and yet, have they ever heard…how he complains, he worked with them, felt their every struggle, be it woe or grief, the sorrow shared in great sadness.

Never left them, he loved his people, as King!

People backed down, the Northmen of the East knew better than to strike at their own Lord who allowed them freedom without any cage or the duties.

- The only duty you know and have to honor, for me, it isn’t if you barge into my House and exact your justice, but the people who fight for what they protect. Keep all your rage and all the force for those who deserved it and channel it to the single cause. Dragons. It is not Jon’s fault, he is our KINDRED! – his words echoed like never Bain could recall in his memory, and it was so long. – Yes, I am the first who will discriminate, but I am the LAST who will CALL FOR BLOOD AND FIRE. What are you?! You call yourselves better than him? You name yourselves the emissary of justice? And, what the f*ck are you doing right now if not the same as the ones who are pushed over a brink of existence to survive!

Thus, the King is born, living the same as they were, among them is the common King who shares exactly the identical continuation of their human life!

- Be the people you gloat yourselves over to be, be someone who for the first time in life doesn’t search in another their solution to problems, but either take your life in your hands or live decently with patience, but never strike at the man who tries to bring only good to us all! And so, as you are already are accustomed. Prepare your stations, ready your positions, fortify your posts. Why? Ladies and Gentlemen, there are Dragons to KILL! – people clamored and hailed, bringing up their weapons and from the stashed reserves and gleaned tools, they commenced armoring and arming themselves. All the while, Jon learned something on that night, this is truly what it means to be King. You do not need your Throne, your Crown, Your Seat, Your Table, Your Chair, You do not need anything, all what you need is for people TO LOOK AT YOU AS THEY DID…BARD THE BOWMAN, who had so little and it consisted all of God’s glee. IT was all what he needs. Upon entering, Jon bent to Bard!

Leaving the man and his son speechless while the door closed itself with a blunt thump.

Jon has risen up high, voicing the fateful words Bain shall remember.

- I apologize. It isn’t you who should bow to me, it was I, who kneel to the rightful King…thank you, for saving my life. I wouldn’t be able to defend myself…I don’t kill humans unless, there is the duty behind it. I can’t ever rise my hand against…humanity. Nor…give upon them. I wasn’t disciplined like that. Great King, Ned Stark taught me, let people decide to whom they bend their knees and wills, if not you, step away!

Yes, he was wrong to ask of one Bard to bend the knee. It wasn’t right, yet, he would never learn if he didn’t do so, never would have the same impact.

And what could Bard do, this was the instant when he recognized in Jon…the man who can marry his daughter, the man he may call his son in law, so, this are the mysterious ways of God. He doesn’t see, but Eru sees all. Foolishly he deemed that he can run away from what he is, not who he is.

- Jon, now, your plan needs to undo all the evil done. Do you think you are up for the task? I will…follow you. Me and my people. We trust you!

Bain lies all the conviction upon Jon’s back and shoulders, and together with his father they bowed to Jon, now he leads this nation of Norse people. Of the East, thus King’s heart swelled with pride and glint while Tauriel’s adept flairs of elven experienced and deft agile moves are unprecedented, even for Jon who has so much to learn, what is left for him to realize, he still moved as a Man, now he needs to make himself live as the Elf as well. Powerful and masterly She – Elf was right on time, she reached the Pack. And what got Jon’s surprise even more heightened, that his heart’s wish was the dream fulfilled. He missed him so! Sam appears with Gilly at Bard’s doorway, when people cleared away the streets, both decisively, got inside, Jon was glad.
*
- Son. – My Sire? – It is time for you to become Slayer, the only Dragon fears, you trained hard, my reign is passing on you three, my heir and heiresses.
*
From the Elf - Man who became human, looking and taking after a Man, like he was never the Elf.
From the Dragon who was human, like he forsook and rose above the humanity that gave birth to his life.
Now, do not forget, but remember, it is not your legacy what you wear as a sin,
But what your carried out as a deed, against all the supremacy of unity in the High Court.
The essence lies in diversity. All of our vantages and none of weak points.
*
Come back to me, come for her, that is your masterful responsibility…Daughters of Forests and Stone. WE LIVE AS WOLVES, AND WE DIE AS ONES, TO THE LAST of the LONE! That was their way, the only they knew, right away round up. To the end we are no less, yet true as you.

The real Wolves for all times albeit Dragons turn their long necks and blow their Black Seven Hellfires for which doesn’t mean if the Portal is required, that they are weaker than those who learned to use the Power of Dragon without, like Daemon and Dragon Queen, for in this way, Dragons sustain their resilience and zeal of all Targaryen Elves and Valinor werewolves are maybe bigger, stronger, heal faster while Dire hold a key in resilient healing for that is reality.

Chapter 87: The ones who prevailed against all odds

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Whiles the certain Golden Elf knows all the secrets of Boltons, Kara remains the undisputed Matriarch of all Wolves, from whom every single wolf came, regardless of the way they evolved. Neither the dead or alive and yet, all is both together woven. And only the few chimera children are born out of the fact for the desperation of the more progeny that will prolong the civilization of dragons. The children who were once human, forgetting the root.

- Are you expecting someone among them, Rhaenys?

- Aemond, here they are…and the one who I expect…is not a child who can be wooed by such a lure.

- I see…what do you scheme to do with them, oh…Hand of the Queen?

- Are the caves prepared?

- Yes, they are.

- Tell Rhaegar to settle them in there and make it look like it is just another hill, no entrance.

- As you order and let us now behold what we have got, or better to say, what our Prince minstrel brought to us.

- Let us see, Lord Aemond – together with all other Targaryens, including Rhaegar, they enveloped the children who remained passive and with the clearly blank looks upon their faces, holding each other by hands.

- Are they aware? – she asks Rhaegar who answers back. – Yes. But they can’t do anything, can’t break, they are bound to my Song. – And, when do you plan to release them, when I say or it is about your Will or…it runs out? – It all depends. But, most of the time, I hold them like this as long as I may, as long as they are in their childlike years, no matter even if they are older.

- What if even the adults keep the child in them, the one they carried since the childhood? – It doesn’t matter, the brainwaves are different, I work with the process of the mind thinking, not the resemblance of something that imitates what once was. Once you are a grown up, that is it. You may have that childish feature kept during the whole adulthood, but there is always a way to break through my Song, while the children can’t. It is specifically designed for luring the children anyway.

- Specialized in hunting human babies? How so?! – Well, someone has to do even that dirty work.

- What is that in you…to come up with something like this? – I don’t know. I just have a sense that in the past life…I had many children, but each one of them was taken from me, so, now I take from others, it is that easy. But the Song was remained my Creed. – And I thought I have an issue. – You would be certainly surprised then and what Aemond is doing? Among them?

- He is the Collector. If we manage to smuggle them, plenty of them are becoming spoils or slaves who will be either sold or bought by another – at that point, Aemond approached the duo. – You should both see these ones, I think you caught a jackpot, Rhaegar.

- What?! – both shared a spontaneously confusing glare, until they are not led to Tilda and Sigrid.

- These two are treasures we caught, indeed. They hold the blood of the Dragonslayer. They are…Bard’s.

- No way – Rhaegar take a better look at the quiet and unmoving girls until they are not decreed in other fashion – my Song doesn’t have an effect on the family of Dragonslayers, if it affected them, why it didn’t the boy too?! He has a son also, there is no chance that he would resist me and yet, here are daughters…

What does it mean then?!

There was no sure answer. Rhaenys came closer to look into both girls thoroughly, while one of them, was on the cusp of the truest womanhood. Sigrid.

- You are a pretty one, oh…what do I smell on you? – she smelt near her collarbone…ah…Jon Snow – this one is King’s, he chosen her, huh, look at him, he so far smeared her! It seems, his Queen rejected him so…I wonder why? There must be the reason behind such a change – it intrigued both Elf Targaryens and of any sort, full or half, that by their sides even others resided evenly, just inspecting the child’s countenance that was on the brink into her life as a woman.

- There is another man – Rhaegar uttered it like it is the everyday news and his folk started back at him, the f*ck?!
- I don’t know, just a feeling and so… what are we doing with these two? – both Aemond and Rhaenys gazed upon one another, Rhaegar sometimes was so strange in his demeanor.

- Nothing, leave them with the rest, no separation. Just because they are zombies, it doesn’t mean that their hearts won’t give up on them, for this...Sigrid – Rhaenys nears her - I have a feel too that your soul is the fearful one, right? Don’t worry, honey, I won’t tantalize your sane mind and you won’t be parted with your baby sister either. We are not that bad. There are even good people amidst us, just give us a chance, after all, it is truly nothing personal, just survival – cupping her chin gently – I would keep you if my heart didn’t belong to another. And now, be a good girl and follow all your fellow friends, together with Tilda, where silver Elf leads.

For that time, Sam and Gilly did not only greeted Bard and Bain properly, but even embraced with Jon anew, snuggling into each other’s warmth until they haven’t distanced a bit, staying in the close circle, retelling Jon and to both father and son, that they tried to keep the children from walking away, but it wasn’t feasible, the intonation was far too strong, and they had a sense, like they heard, that Dragons are up there, in the nearest mountain hiding.

- Sam! Gilly! Thank you! You helped us a lot with this information! – Hey, we are all together in this, aren’t we? Just because I am staying, like I promised…I am here for you, but now, both we are! – this relieved Jon beyond comprehension, yes, this was the right decision he did for the two of them, just…look at them, they were BORN FOR ONE ANOTHER, and she was such a sweet girl. Perfect for his…their Sam who stays for all days…the Northman, of the East or the North, who cares?! Right?! The essence is what matters.

- You have admirable people amongst your Pack, just as I have mine – Bard winks at brightened Gilly who lights up as the most bright incandescence in the darkest of the nights, demonstrating that Bard was more than in the right, seeing through both, this is what they were in need, yet Bain chuckled to self, while arrived ultimately the time. – Jon, tell us…your plan.

- I still have a need for some time – when he mouthed it, everybody was like…what time? – You know, we won’t live forever. Jon – Bard reminded him. – I still have to consult with my… brother – upon saying it, Sam understood, so, Jon is capable of even that?! – Wow, you have indeed become, remarkable, Jon! – Thank you, Sam, it means all to me when you say it – Sam blushed along with Gilly, she chose a good man, there will never be a greater heart than that of Sam’s.

- And don’t feel regretful, Gilly…he is yours, I understand – the shy woman doesn’t stay in anyone’s shadow, but this time, even she is wordless at the powers which Jon Snow NO LONGER hides and Sam was so proud of him, beaming brightly as starlight, though Bard and Bain could only have faith in Jon’s judgment. – If we may know, of which brother do you speak, Your Grace? – Bain grew balls, even his father was wonder – stricken.

- Of Big brother, I guess, his name came to be illustrious, even to these lands for a very short time, even I got myself in surprise, with just how much he grew…when I found out…that he is the Lightbringer of Ice sword, Bearer of re-embodied Azor Ahai – it was like he has spoken about Music of Ainur, alike in the enchanted spell, both son and father, utter – ROBB STARK! – and Bain added. – HE IS THE GREATEST STRATEGIST WHO WON THE VALE BACK! Challenged none other than Dark Prince of all Dragons! – no one could believe in passion which Bain emanated. Yes, Jon Snow was a Myth, but this was the earthly mortal, the man who became the Legend. It made Jon so endeared. – I can’t do this alone, but I go now to speak with him, alone…if you don’t mind. In one separate corner that is shielded.

- Be our guest – Bard insists, and all others looked after King who turned into even more than anyone could ever dare to dream, but he was the Dreamer, just like in The Past Life, just like a father who came before him. Jon Snow was the Dreamer of humankind, and very soon, upon closing the eyes, in the farthest distances, came into touch with him.

You hear me? - Clear and distinct, my baby brother. - Robb, I need you. - Speak. - There are Dragons, upon their Companions in the East, due to the certain crafts they came into possessions, Targaryens of…my kind, broke all the rules and breached through. - It sounds to me, Jon, like yourself. - Stop, Robb, now it isn’t the time. - When would be? And by what you told me, listen to me. If you go directly at them, it is in vain. If you try to entice them out, it won’t work either, these ones are where evolution took the place and it is irreversible, I know what I am talking about, I fought the mightiest of their giant Titans and all what I can say is this, you have to get a back-up plan too. Believe in me. Don’t utilize formations. These are far more a menace.

- What then? – Listen to…MY PLAN of oddities, for the outlook is not as it seems, never was and combine with yours, integrate into the Stars. The extraordinary that will get to be the Story of all times. Soon, even we are going to lead our battles barehand…

*We all bleed and are coerced to suffer. The best of both worlds, you are at the center, in the way, we are those who light the paths we paved. And none of any weakness we carry on but strength. Of Quenya of Valinor, to Middle Earth (Sindarin), Valyrian, mother tongue of Old Valyria with nuances of High, and all are comprised to an universal and common language, the speech we all in the end speak.

Chapter 88: Left in darkness to unearth the light they walk along Warrior Kings

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With the concern in their hearts, for their children, they shall all fight till the last, by bare means if necessary. As it always was in their blood and during their full lived lives. Even if Elves feel stuck with life, the brightest sunflower chose to stay, fighting all the odds, watching how human beings which he has in mind to sustain by being hellbent on his collected harem, are flying, fleeting elsewhere when their hour comes.

Someplace that stays elusive for the elven kind for and ever. So we come to the question, how is it probable that Bain is resistant and his sisters are not? It doesn’t have anything to do with the gender to which we are all reduced, but with the state of the mind. Haldir vocalized it quite well, without the Will that upholds the healthy mind, everything else is prone and vulnerable to the temptations. And in regard to another man about whom Rhaegar has spoken, it has with the notion that Feanor won’t ever take something from his grandson, but the blood is blood and Ygritte who is the reshaped Eowyn and acts as Fake Eve for the protection of the Original one, Galadriel, knows that she has to return to Feanor before even he can’t fight his madness of Fire and Blood.

Still loving the man even if she is another body, with the reawakened memories of the Past and by other face, this was at her core, Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan. Someday, she is going back to him, to her Emperor, until then, she is free to do as she never had a probability to experience. The Blood of the Wolf is not as in Dragonblood, for the Wolves may be lone, but they are forever to wander free in their Packs, for better death, than ever the death in the eyes being caged, with no room to live for Mother Nature. That being so, the masquerade continues onto Jon’s fellowship.

It is not simply to enter the simple shrine whose body is resilient to mere violations, when the Will is on your side, without it, there is No Life. The First to draw nigh to the returned She-Elf was, of course, again the Dame whose all dreams are to follow in footsteps of all Shieldmaidens who lived prior to her anointment, mainly Eowyn she worshipped as the first of their breed. For there were times when wielding the sword was just a man’s Art, now it has become even grace of Dames.

- Tauriel! You are back to us! – I never left you! – Jon went to look for you! – He sent me, please, Brienne, call others, I have something to say, please, quickly. – All right! Wait here! Some boys went out to search for firewood, but our horn takes care of everything. – You are the best! – hence, a horn’s blaring of the North very rapidly gathered every man or woman around the unsettled Tauriel, pryingly watching a Beauty of Elf!
She was uncertain how to begin, so, she goes straight to the heart, everybody was here. From Bolton to Lannister and his child. Wolves and even Hand.

- Jon Snow attained the Dragon Egg – at first, it was followed by some weird stolen stares, then, they eyed her for some time, until they didn’t begin to laugh out loud, outright incapable to control themselves. Tauriel couldn’t fathom that such a day and the event is ensued by…what did she entail amidst?!

- I don’t remember when was the last time I had such a sweet laugh – said Bolton.

- But this is real, Lord Bolton, you who is notorious among Elves and every creature of Lore, you know what I am speaking about.

- Our Dear…we know this all affects you, you are sensitive. Yet, we are just humans, and no human can’t ever be so infamous as you Elves can be, the ones who exacted genocides, conquered and renamed, and used even pelts of other sentient humans as your covers against the coldness until you haven’t seen it for yourself that we are more than just food, goods and everything else, but maybe, those times, primal, were one of the blessings, and not this mess.

- This isn’t about that! Why do you always bring up something out of asses whenever it is stated something of importance!

- Is that so? Lannister, stay out of this, don’t say anything, I am assuming from here, thank you…I am have got this - turning completely to Tauriel to whom Lord Bolton, even though he was downright older, shorter than the rest of the men and grouchier than ever, was drawing from you the fear of his greatness. Even the Daughter of Forest like all the children are intimidated by such a dark presence that glows in the blissful lightness of the morning Sun.

- First of all, he is both, one side at all times fights another for the dominance, but the Wolf forevermore prevails.

- And he is, but with exception – she glimpsed at Ygritte who was in her wolf shape, saying nothing, there is some concerns to clear with her too, because you have no idea what kind of Wheels you set in motion by your decisions – he got the black one. And he named him and he already has a name, and it is a boy…

- Wait, wait, this is unbecoming of you. You are pretty much a reasonable lady, so, Lady Tauriel, start from the beginning – she exhales toward him, in sheer exasperation.
- You are enquiring yourself, how is possible, for him to get his egg? How did it happen? Did he give birth to it or…well, you found out that he is unburnt? Isn’t that so? Yes, after this, comes something what Dragons call…the Invocation of the Blood, which means, that yes, it was given birth by his manifestation, you see, all Dragon eggs are the extensions of their Dragon Lords or Ladies, because once a raider loses his or her Dragon, very likely, YOU had slain AN ELF TOO. It is rare to survive the death of your Dragon to whom you are tied so…

- Then what about King Bees and the way they get Dragon eggs with copulation…wait… wait… I get it…unless. – Jon Snow is the rare example that he did it just with his SHEER WILL. Yes, and it isn’t…something…coincidental, it is the Proof that he is Emperor’s grandson in all his humanity and non – human sides. Only Feanor’s sons, own the possibility to control elements without any runes or spells, either enchantments. It makes them distinguishing from their kind, but less liable to the sanity, this is where the madness of Targaryens comes from. You all think it is due to their inbred incest. That is the wrong fact.

Let the blood flow. This is what struck Bolton. Oh…it was right before their eyes! Of course. TARGARYENS lost…no, it was taken from them along with the Fall of Freehold. All Dragon people, could without problems, materialized, eventually, their Dragon eggs, and other eggs that came from the breeding mares of Old Valyria and her breeding nesting, or pairing of Dragons were the fruits of the evolution contributed to the climax of their Reign, but the Downfall of theirs, shadowed the regression.

It wasn’t just sufficient anymore to think about what kind of the child you desired, all that was gone and they did everything, again and anon, for the survival, by evolving themselves and changing their body shapes.

As a matter of fact, Dragon people were the prime example of the chimera or better to say, chameleon people, the changelings who with all outlooks, made something out of their lives, and that is why this with Jon was so relevant, by him, it only symbolized that the Art of creating your own Dragon is never lost, but it is unattainable dream for every Dragon.

Just how many Dragon children are cooking, boiling or burning their Dragon eggs, together they walk into the fires or bathing in blazing flames?

And none of Dragons are hatched, which means, just because there are Dragon eggs by King or Queen Bees, through special breeding mares or mating of Dragons, there is no guarantee that there will be Dragon babies born out of it.

Naturally a response to evolution bred distinguished particles in human blood which King and Queen Bees are hunting down, the ones who at once hatch all generated Dragon eggs. The most coveted, Baratheons. If Targaryens, got their clutches on Renly or any other Baratheon who submits Will without losing oneself to the process, for no one covets dolls for shared life, are the most precious element, the possession they must own. That means…they will never give up on their Baratheon clan.

And who knows, if there is some out there who is suffering the fate of Renly which he fled, just because of ignorance, someone would think that even Sword of the Morning did it on purpose, to pander to Daemon Targaryen in his conquest of the Holy Land, but that wasn’t so. The man never thought that Daemon would dare, nor that the boy was a true Baratheon, but he was, saved from the fate on time by the unintended Mother, who wasn’t destined to be in this life, to Tommen, sending him to Gondolin, just as she vowed, that none of Baratheons or any other person won’t bear the Blood of any Host as the Breeder. For some she sprawled her authority, for others, there was no salvation and there is more while the clock was ticking.

So, this was true. Jon Snow is one of the Great Dragons. This actuality was very difficult to cope with, but if Jon is still their Jon, that is all what they are in need to know. The North doesn’t bend the knee to any Elf, except to one who bears the human heart, and that was Ned’s boy. Ned, you knew it.
This is all yours and theirs. Everybody nods, grasps it, pressing her to tell them more, if they don’t clarify all now, it stays unsolved amid the undivided.
*
After the death, something changes even for the Morning Star, Lucifer, Prince of the Dark, Lord of Light. Bringer of a Change, and Bearer of Brightness. For I am Aegon the Conqueror!
An equivalent was Azor Ahai with Lightbringer, for King of Kings is yet to be written, dream.
*
Truly, what is the realm, when our is the Universe! What is one Throne against all the worlds.
*
It is hard to die for the King but never next to a friend. It was the fair kingdom during the Fall.

Chapter 89: Dawning of Aurora’s dayspring

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When you have got the Head of Stark House, of the Starks, as the voice which demands authoritative attention, Jon had to listen until Tauriel did her part of the duty. Telling them every single happening, and mostly, to Jaime’s mind it was like this. Damn, they were separate from Jon shortly, and in a day, already he has got a new bride, almost has been hanged high for this and they are once again in the middle of the crisis. How this man manages? It can be done only by Jon Snow.

He doesn’t experience in 3 years what their King for one day. That is called living in the moment, it seems. But, then, it struck all the chords when she mentioned Sam and it was like all Northmen were up in spirits, on their feet, because merely recently they sat down, now they are standing, and with every word, they see for themselves what all embroiled Jon into to gain the passage to the unknown, this was too much for any human being, let alone mere young people who had just opening their eyes to the vastness of the probabilities. They don’t recall when it was this hard to cope, and even if they were with him, this is something that he shoulders alone.

He is Great Dragon, and as well, a true personification of the Lone Wolf. So, this is what always implies being a King. Maybe…he doesn’t want the crown as he first thought then, if this is what it signifies…that once you gain the Throne…your table and seat…does it mean…really being alone?! No, a Lion can’t ever survive without its Pride. Just like Wolves have their Packs, on the other hand, Lions are full of Prides, but loneliness for a Lion is a death sentence for him, not something to make you stronger. Is this why his Father told him this:

“Listen to me, my lost children in space. Lions make the great Warriors, be in the mind or brawn, strategy or tactical matters, particularly, politics, but leave a Lion to reign alone on the Carven Throne, and then you see how all the shine of the Lion fades with the stone.”

Why would he say something like this? All what he was obsessed about is to put his family on the pedestal, but now, even he falters just like his father whenever they are closer to what they loved the most to achieve…Perhaps, what they what is what they need, and what is a wish, but a dream they are being manipulated with?! What kind of King he would be? He knows nothing.

All his life he knew only about guarding Doors, swinging his sword... he has no qualm that he would be acknowledged by North, yet, what Jon Snow saw in him when he chose him for the next King in the North? What could he offer what Jon already didn’t?

What about Ned Stark and all previous Kings, the more he overthought about it, the sunken stars never appeared brighter than on the night of the uttermost trying moment in the Lion’s life, but not any life, it was the Golden and Red. Of Castamere. Without even perceiving that the talks ended and everybody are under sound of silence, it appeared to him quaint, glancing up, eying his comrades and then, his eyes fell on Tauriel, in that some very peculiar moment, like he could…touch it, that in some manner, their lives are tied together for some reason. She said it.

- He saw the Man of Honor. Isn’t that…enough? – she read him, since when he grew to be an open book, as soon as he is lost in a thought, albeit Lord Bolton in his perception and slyness knew what bothers one Lion, he wouldn’t be for anything, a veteran of Northern people if he couldn’t read body language, and for it, you don’t need powers. Breathes out to deeps, and people, primarily Lady Tauriel, look back to him.

- I am old, aged, my hour is reaching for me too, olden of the aging, so that, it is all I can say, I am the oldest who remained of old generation, it is saying something, Sir Jaime Lannister – he gazes up and Jaime can’t withhold for a very long…such a look at the man’s face, there was always something frightening about Roose Bolton. All what he sought for all his life is someone like Jon Snow, who would come and say, that North knows no King but the King…of Honor, not the name, and he did it, with one wave of a hand, and who was there to say No to Jon Snow? No one and so he resumes – I don’t know how much Life I am left to live, but let me tell you something, listen what this Old Man still got to say. In the days of your Father, mountains were green and tall, but in your nights, there awaits, Fire and Blood, because the Times chose the best of the best to storm through all obstacles, and I am yet to see a Lion, be it of gold or red, who wavered in the face of the challenge. Most of the time, I admit, you are a brash, idiotic, moronic and the goofiest cretin I have ever met, but whenever it comes to the Pack – he was standing up, straightening the back that shouldered far too much to storytell each detail of its beauty before he passes away – when it comes to keeping the Word, when it comes to the Helping people. I see only you as the First.

So, tell this Old man, what is there to doubt extremely much about yourself? It was abandoned in between lines, even Brienne pats Jaime on the shoulder, the act he appreciated a lot when it comes from her of free will. Endowing her with the warm mirth in between their partnership, the one only the two of them understood and shared together. However, it bothered them all. Sam wasn’t just King’s or their cook, a disguised librarian, yeah, they knew his little secret, but they indulged to him, like the North doesn’t know, but Sam forgot, the North remembers, and he was more, even though they comprehended his yearning for the chance. In Dale he has plentiful to contribute, and Jaime felt it through Jon, still, couldn’t draw a distinction amidst.
- He hates us, then. – No, silly – admonishes him Brienne – it is the call and beauty of love. – Listen, I have nothing but sheer respect and love for you, take it or not, I gift it to you, but cut the crap, Brienne, he gave me a look! – You were erected then! – and here is Haldir who proudly intervened. – You have got me! Elf! Aren’t you happy?! – people facepalmed, elven’s idiotism precedes the world, even Tauriel is in discontent!

All in all, one little hand with her baby dragon, takes her father’s, who turns around in surprise. These kind of sad eyes, he will never forget on his child.

- I miss him, Daddy – and Jaime wouldn’t be Jaime if in him wouldn’t revolt all the Hells of Seven, for as every Lion, he would shower all the gold on his child, but this time, his daughter…needs to learn…her first lesson, he brings her up in his lionized arms, speaking to her. – Sweety, we stay in touch, isn’t that right? You saw your grandfather – their foreheads touched together, heartening everyone present – so you shall Sam.

The little silver Lady, the Princess of Lions, as they nicknamed her, nuzzles is her father’s embrace, he was so strong and powerful, never forget a scent.

- Whenever we leave someone to own the choice or the decision to stay in the mystery, this is what…unfurls – Tauriel spoke in the great wisdom she collected across her two thousand years – and what we lose, we gain in exchange. Rejoice, all of you! – upon her words, Lannisters, Brienne and Wolves, mainly Lady, harked her sayings. – Your King has obtained one of the greatest powers of the Ancient World, in the time when all was falling to ruins, he… - Tauriel breaks here, just for a little while, Ygritte draws near, indulging her, even nudging out of endearment and she giggles through sobs, while the North realized it quite well – became the Dragon Rider, he is the Dragon Lord among Lords and Ladies of his related blood, of the next generation – she voiced barely, spoke no more, for it wasn’t every day to see the tears of the full Original Elf how it flows and Haldir nears too, embracing her, she leans on the Hand of the King of Lorien realm, nestling, only then and now, at that hour, something indeed, transpired. The humans saw all the colors of the Elven kind, even if just one Elf can feel for Man, hope lived on.

It was enough. More than foretold.
Elven tears run deep as theirs. Colored not only by the Fire or Blood. And there was nothing more to say, all of this, remains in the middle of the untold and unspoken, for what is unsaid, between Tauriel and Ygritte was taking the form what they wanted to utter to one another and it is said, how both bonded on the spiritual level on that day and Ygritte did, unthinkable, for which each Northman rejoiced.
The Great Wolfhound of werewolf blood, the War Dog, the BloodHound of War, bends the head to scoop Tauriel upon its broad wolfback, the wide shoulder blades, finding herself how she mounts King’s cub, had Tauriel elated out of the force of glee. Horns blared, trumpets and drums knelled, the Northmen are coming. To the KING!

And Jon...was glad. Rejoicing the elvish blood even in Haldir. The Delver Mined, the Mason Built beneath the Lonely Mountain, music was unwearied.
In Moria, in Khazad – Dum…let our banners sing, the fulfilling lake of Mirrormere. We are far from Home, the road calls us to answer the call of Snow.

The Standards on Spears, Daughter of Forests and Stone. Glorified are numerous names for which a myriad can’t live their lives as they should be. The names are shadowing even the hardest of the rocks. What remained for them is to grapple on. The new daybreak at any time comes when you hope not!
And truly, the most gorgeous of flowers is the one, who has grown out of stone. Even Satan concurs. Nowhere to hide it. Grandmaster. Where are Angels, Demons are close by.

Chapter 90: Innocent Beauty is Moon of Blood. Tears of Walls

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Dwarves were readied. Protect humans, but defend ourselves as well. Thorin from the tallest towers was biding his time for the inevitable, something you can’t avoid, but it is as the same time, very evasive. It got closer, only to feel long reaches. This was the beginning, of the showdown, the reckoning night. Will it end with this critical battle or it will fall upon the rest of the Far East? No one was certain, they decided their fates against Fire and Blood.

- Thorin! – Balin was coming up, to join him on the high steps. – Yes, Old Master? – What do you see? – he reached him, merely to hear the mere words which sent shockwaves through his aging subsistence. – Dragons. They are coming. Lord Balin. – Thorin Oakenshield, what do we say when we are facing death? – NOT TODAY – he swirls to the Grandmaster of wisdom – are they prepared? – We are. Oh, we are. And still, those are Dragons out there.

- Dwarves never lay their Faith on miracles, but today – he looks upon the stars – it would be nice that one marvel happens, indeed, for we knew…this hour will come and you know what. Balin. – What?! – Get ready for every Dwarf to give upon his life, I know, that Bard the Bowman, the King of the northeastern kingdom of Dale, does the same. The posterity will survive, but tonight, we shall have such a feast…with our Forebears – while he spoke, Balin’s eyes are filling with dew, he was crying, faintly speaking.

- As you say, it would be, Thorin. It will be, as you say…my son, you were always like a son to me. I may not be your father, but… - Thorin kissed Balin on the forehead, tenderly watching the Old Dwarf. – Now, Balin, do you know of what matter are made Dwarves? – Of Iron and Steel. – And even Dragons will require all the Hellfires, to melt EREBOR down. Dwarves will fall, but Realm Under Lonely Mountain, the Hidden Kingdom of the Far East, never so.

Grey mountains are always open to any attacks, but this time, they no longer may shield them so well as before. This was the Night of the Bloodmoon. Yes, the 4th, so long awaited. And Thorin with Balin was observing upon how the whiteness, the shining glitter of the Moon is bloodied.

The Long Night…the longest in their lives, has come and it will befall them like no other before did. Yet, if anything, in the Dwarves, all of spite and pride woke.

- I lead our Forces, prepare tools and brace for an onslaught, tell them, Balin. Tell them, Dragons have come and I see the sky covered with Elves.
Great Lady Rhaenys, the Hand of the Queen is on dragonback, her Meraxes, one of the oldest, finest and biggest dragons, was flying over to Erebor, to the Dwarven kingdom, to Dale, the Northmen of the Far East. If they burned to the ground the Greenwoods for which will take time to recover, what is another kingdom that falls before their Fire?!

The massiveness of Meraxes who only once felt the nearing death, and it was by Glorfindel’s golden hand, right now was more than willing to force Erebor to fall! Rhaegar and Aemond are accompanying, and behind them were around 3000 riders on their Dragons who were collected from elsewhere, rummaging for the remnants of human realms and settlements, the only that is still standing is Citadel of Oberyn Martell who never gives in and who threatened to every Elf and Dragon out there.

HE MAY DIE, but the Citadel of the Far East stands FOREVER, cursing them thrice, and so it was, naming it, the Impregnable Odd, that was Great Lord Oberyn for you, who waits the King in the f*cking North. Jon Snow come to me, I will stand, until then, he and all of his refugees, people who asked for the shelter and asylum, the Save Haven together with his knights, will fight the odds once more. And now, there is one more that stands in their way, the remaining echo of once the strongest fortitude of the humankind, the Dale of Dragonslayers. You fall with them all if you do not bow! Rhaenys was preparing herself to order the command.

- Lady Hand – Rhaegar got nigh – they are at hand, who is first? – Of course, Erebor, we will leave Jon Snow and others for our last course, now.

DRACARYS vibrates. Portals from all around opened Hellfires or either they are using regular dark flames and black blazes, it was swift and efficient, probably, not as powerful as it might be without dimensional Portals (only few mastered it) with far more scorching burning, but it was warming them up, stoking for the Long of the longest of the nights ever survived. Erebor is withstanding, what is the Wall in the North, so is Erebor in the East, the Kingdom Under the Grey Mountains, Dwarves haven’t answered, they let all of three thousand, who blackened the white skies with the batlike biblical wings, burn skylines of early horizons. Feels suspicious for those who expected a resistance which was left out. What is happening at these moments so?

- They are not reacting, we are not luring them out – Aemond stated the fact, they are as majestic as they could be, announcing with the Dragon bellows, either their approaching or the arrival of those who reached the mountain grey ranges of the Dwarven domain. Rhaenys deduced that they are in such fear of the Dragons, that they are somewhere, already cowering, begging for mercy.
- We scared them off! Dragons! On top of their Towers and Domes! Let us make their bulwarks and Walls, our Bastions where we nest our DRAGONS! – it was epically to hear everyone as one VOICE, in the abysmal union that promised you nothing but what they offer. It was Fire and Blood, indeed. Except for Rhaegar, even Aemond was taken in by the FEEL of Dominating someone.

So, Rhaegar stood firm and restrained his Dragon, to stay as the Last in the air while everything else is ensured. For the moment, it was verily safe and sound, Dragons entered, either perched or landed, descending the Halls of Erebor, until they haven’t started to move in with their slithering bodies across the corridors, between pillars and under the silver roofs, while the floors were of gold. Thorin made a move, not let out a sound, not even one movement to be coerced, while Rhaenys, in all her relevance was delving deeper, this time, she has bespoken to her Mera to go up, on one of the boulder bridges and enmeshed grids, all above the sky high chambers, where the maw of the Dragon sneaked in to breathe the unusual smell of the molten…gold and…some black oil? Only then, Rhaenys’s purple irises turned into maddening, galvanized inflammation.

- OUT, EVERYONE OUT! – it was too late, they were manipulated, ensnared into a sly snare, not only rock spears and steel lances were protruding the Dragon’s hides, but it was the sheer mass of molten gold as lava of the hottest magma, about hundred times hotter than Dragons could suffer through, including hot black oil, that was desolating their lives through atrociously frightful screeches and battles had followed after the ensued run, because Dwarves from all sides assailed the unassailable, with everything they have got, be it last or first, Dwarves by blades, arrows and venom, are chasing away invaders from their home.

Targaryens and Dwarves crashed into one another in the tumultuous and tempestuous uproar that was mingling the blood of Dwarves in such bellowing Dragon blood of all others who are falling. Rhaegar knew it! Aemond served as a shield for Rhaenys to escape while a thousand of Dragons and their noble Riders, fell.

Leaving them with the two thousand who were flying off, all the while leaving Dwarves to bathe in the bloods of what they hurled upon selves and them, for all that was thawed, is now flowing to defrost even Erebor from the inside, they set a pitfall, only to fall into it themselves, from the inside out, Dragons thawed out foundations on which Erebor stood, withholding all Grand Obelisks and Monoliths of supporting pillars, no longer, and Balin who before his own eyes beheld the downfall in which Dwarves are falling together with dead Dragons whose bodies are liquefied along the gold, into trapping bottomless pit, has joined his King to bolster and secure copper ropes who held the heart of Erebor in one piece, together.
They are dying out and there was no one to avail them! In the pressing moment, they heard it afar, it was a sound of HOPE! EAGLES OF ELVES were sent! That meant, that Legolas wasn’t far. He was coming! Silvan Elves led by the Grey Elf.

Yes, Legolas, at long last, decided, that he won’t be his father. He will come to the rescue, of both humans and Dwarves, rather to die as the Elf he is, the Original alongside the Reimagined, than to bear under his heartbeat, a shame, he could never hold out for very long. Even Jon Snow, every soul to whom it would reach, was in the shock and utter surprise, the sincere wonderment, the Elves of the Greenwoods are arriving! Although suffered great losses and the fallen, they pieced themselves together and rose as the phoenix from the ashes and cold cinder. Leaving the pride behind, and putting on the stake, their lives, all of it on the line, sent by the Will, Silvan Elves will collide with the Dragons, just hold your grounds, everyone, till they are here.

Dragons are far too much agonized by every side, tantalized either by the fate of the human hand or be it the Lord Elf, whether that is, no longer it will.

Targaryens punch back, due to the fear that their House is hardly holding, though hardy and tight, it has given them nothing but the disadvantage where anyone can lash out at them whenever they felt suited. No more. Let it all shudder under our claws and roars! We will demonstrate the power of the Dragonblood. Quaking was the mid of the Far East. Not even their dead were allowed to decompose at their pace, leaving nothing behind, that was their religion. Kili fought for survival his kin along brother and Dwalin, his thoughts were with Tauriel who shivered to her backbones of marrow, watching with her elfin eyes, from the close distances. Erebor is falling. Legolas, My King…help us. Just hold your lines, Kili. Stand firm and hold out!

Jon Snow commenced the Master Plan, even so, the darkness dwells in Durin’s halls. What we are without Fait, extensions of selves, and what are the Targaryens who lose their Dragons? Those who accomplish to live through the travails, in exchange they gain more than they bargained for. As is Snow. It devours.

Chapter 91: Truthful revelations of realization

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Elves. There are even vampiric amongst them, the highly renowned, was of Finarfin House, from the line of Noldor or Northern Elves who lived in the middle of Eldamar, while Vanyar occupied mountains and Teleri who resides at the sea and from whom the Grey Elves of Middle Earth are born. There are a number of distinctions, even among Green Elves who converted either in cannibals or vampires as well, and in abundance, there are multiple others who are yet to be discovered, for the evolution never ends to surprise, and the Evolved Life always finds its ways to live in any solution of our existing. Even so, bloodlust is common for any Elf, be it the tribe of Originals, the clan of Dragons or the Dynasty of Crossbreeds. Greatly famed was Jon Snow.

Aragorn knew, if Jon survives…the last goal will be him. Yes, he will come for the High King of the United human realms. The outmost glorified Gondor. The west kingdom under the decreed protection by Feanor, for its tight alliances and the taken vows which are binding a domain to elvish rule. And just when he remembers the bastard son of his, indulging to the lost kindred was no regret, but even at present, can be used against him, giving them an instrument of his downfall.

Eh, Legolas, you fought for the wrong King, it is why he understands his envy toward Jon, because he truly is everything what Aragorn could never will be, that was the heart of everything.

While in the camouflaged cavern, even children of three years old were taken except for the babies, even then, the little ones, even the older and taller, everybody was in the state of the extreme trepidation and uncertainty, all what they wanted is to go back to their parents, to be returned to their homes but the Song held them even though the hold was loosened just a little.

- Silence! – Targaryen High Guard shouted at them in the stern voice and with the threatening pose while his Dragon brutally roared at the whimpering children who huddled themselves tighter. Sigrid was gripping her baby sister who was scared beyond recognition.

It was more than sufficient that their father the whole life fought them, one even destroyed their whole village and now, being this close…it was becoming unbearable, she had to do something, standing up while never letting her sister’s hand out of her grasp, for the tiny child held onto her with the last thread of valiance she possessed in her small body.

- Sit down, child. – I am no child. Please, you are scaring them…they fear you!

- I ordered for you to be quiet, it includes even the bigger babies, and now if you do not long for more suffering upon your sister, you will obey – he neared her, telling it to her fair visage. This woman…was very delicate for his senses, attracted him so, and what unnerved him is that she never breaks the eye contact, she doesn’t look away, this is what irritated more, taking his Dragon hand up, henceforth, covering her whole face and literally, pushing her down on the floor, there was no harm, but it was sufficient that all children scream in the bloody dread and the greatest fright they ever felt. Tilda clutches at her big sister, availing her to sit back, while Sigrid could do nothing but watch at the smirking and self – satisfied outlook of the man who happens to be Targaryen, but was nothing more than a savage, oh, she said nothing, there is no need. She and her sister had no natural shielding mind, they had to be taught, for it isn’t easy to be a self-taught person and yet, whenever their feelings got the better of them, both are open books.

- Savage?! I am the savage? All I see are a bunch of animals who are in desperate need to be broken and tamed, girl.

Sigrid and Tilda lowered their heads down, not because of selves and their pride, but because of other children, in defiance they may hurt worse than if they play by the rules. For a moment, the aggravation left this Targaryen who obviously lusted after Sigrid. What stopped him from taking her? Because she was already claimed, not owned by some savagery, it was the very subtle scent, all over her.

Jon knew what he was doing when he did it. Insuring in such a way, that if anyone even dares to think of it, his odor will chase away anyone who challenges his claim which isn’t a form of ownership or possession, no property, it is one of the first evolving steps where the loved one doesn’t need to be tame, seized or subjugated to utter submission. This was a new way, but there was something else about it, quite well concealed, and if he already can’t touch her, he may come over even closer, causing out of captured children purely additional whining and extra cries which would have satisfied him if it hadn’t been badly peculiar for senses. Sigrid and Tilda gripped one another harder when he approached to smell the air around them, even nuzzling his riches and regalia onto two sisters, in the crook of their soft necks or around the collarbones which were the finery by itself. All those bends and curves, were intoxicating him. Oh, his eyes grew larger.

No way. He thought he will smell a Wolf on them both! For Tilda is under the same protection of his, but no…this was…a Great Dragon! The Bastard gained their abilities, traits, even attributes and what about the weaknesses, or he compensated all of this for his mortality, for he was human with the elven heart. He ages slowly likewise and that means...there is a fine possibility that he acquired amid the notable Dragon egg, from shadow lands?

How he would come into possession of such treasure? No, it must be the rare feature, for this was the fragrant beauty of yet unhatched Dragon. Like he was scalded for real, he moved back who has to warn the others. Bastard King was hiding it from them, for all this time. This is changing the Game. If they have the Great Wolf in front of themselves, it is another thing, they know to fight Wolves, but one of their own, that is the whole new level, so, it is true. The Great Wolf, king or prince, ruler or not, was indeed High Lord Robb Stark. The Trueborn of Ned Stark. The f*cking bastards they are all! IN THEIR NEST CRAWLED THE REAL DRAGON! And his name was Jon f*cking Snow, the Wolf and the Dragon, but the Targaryen side won over!

- I won’t separate you from your sister, but I want you to answer me…Sigr…Lady Sigrid – she rises her fearful irises which were at the same time unyielding and yet, they were quivering alike green leaves, Tilda curls even stronger into her sister’s body.

- Yes…My Lord? – Had he mated you? – children, even the Dragon was in the position, like…you are so vulgar and pry into someone’s privacy. – Yes – this time, Tilda was the one who shockingly screeched at Sigrid. What…when?! How? Eh, storks flew above their heads, right before the King’s arrival to their Dale, she knows how babies are, well…conceived, still, it was unlikely…right?! – the Targaryen was aware more than well that nothing when it comes to Blood of Dragon is improbable, so he moves swifter, just for a light touch upon her belly and it was…full as well.

- You are carrying Jon’s baby? – and Tilda’s mind screamed, inside?! Wait, wow, what again!?! Everything is coming about so fast, faster than the Speed of Light!

He hadn’t wasted any time with her and…what was very intriguing, Jon had sexual relationship with Ygritte, but there was no child she carried, and with Sigrid, who is the common girl, it was just a matter of day? Jaime was right, this only indicated what was the utmost obvious, stepping back at once, the Targaryen smiled ever so softly. Another Dragon is in her womb. She was the full human woman, and that was the answer! Blood of humans!

- Let the blood flow, King’s Lady, he couldn’t create a child with another, I presume, not because he was barren, neither that he didn’t have IT, in himself what is needful for the conception, but…now he has reached the full mature adulthood and he has grown into the Great Dragon who does all by himself, the Lone Wolf in the Dragonblood and all what his blood demanded is human – was all what he told, leaving them so alone.

Even with Dragon Man, it would be less lonely, except it is more lonesome in the captivity of Dragon people.
Targaryen intends to sleep by his Dragon, just to close, for a little while, sleepy eyes, this was the satisfying revelation he has to share with the House of the Dragon. She is with child and carries, none other than his dreamy child. Not worthier because it is of King or King’s blood, but it is his. Ah, sometimes, they envied those sleepwalking Elves, for Targaryens had to sleep and dream, without their dreams, there are no even future, for it is what saved them after all. Dreamers. And Jon was one of them also. What is King, when you dream the dreams? Burrowed into his nested Dragon, for a moment, both took a rest. Sensing less sufferings of Kin.

- You did it with him? Jon?! – whispered her wee Tilda, she blushed like crazy. – Yes. So… I was carried away. And he was, and you know, sex.

DAD WOULD KILL HER! And he will survive, he will kill even him! Oh, damn! THEY BOTH LIED! It was all done at the moment when they appeared at their Door! Which means, this is why Jon was so…earnest in entering, in this way, he marked their House, for protection, the whole House! He knew exactly what he was intending! The Great Mother of all Dragons, it is a good thing they have Jon on the humankind side, this was the Titan of all Giants. He wastes no hour, loses or spares any time, this is real him, he just does how he feels. This is the worst quality in Targaryens. They are ruled by their emotions. Can’t really fathom it. Her sister is pregnant with Jon’s seed and on top of all, heard is a rumor that the King has got his Dragon Egg!
*
Naughty Dragon, very naughty boy, one more time, what is the Throne compared to the vast world? Do not take away the child from her hold on sister.

“For the Lamb in the midst of the Throne will be their Shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the living waters, and God shall be glad.“

When the extraordinary is highlighted and a good man who has nothing to lose, turns into Devil Incarnate, the world stands still on its own.

Chapter 92: Your Jon

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The nature in humans always finds its way to evolve in other fashions, save from those who enact decrees separate from God.

Unfurled were the banners and emblems of the North, even when they came and now, when they came in, even from afar, all the colors were of their kindred and she remembers, under one of the towering starry nights, he found her and it was the dream he offered and through which she lived, it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t even as if the dream came true, but it wasn’t dreamless either.

He fondled her full lips, licked them and then they kissed with gentleness until the passion of the Dragon hadn’t work in him, and all his large body was on her.
She thought how she is going to enjoy to feel him, but he was too huge for her and heavy above her, and on the spur of the moment, she reacts to his power by pushing him by impulse off her, Jon was surprised, creeping on top of her back again, spreading her arms and holding them on each side of the head while he straddled her, positioning himself for one more try into it.

- Please, you must relax for me – he kisses her neck, cherishes her collarbone, showered her holy being with nothing but pure passion of tenderness, but Sigrid at one moment, said No. He stops immediately, it wasn’t feasible to enter her, go inside, her heart says one thing but the body has spoken. – Sigrid, we don’t need to go all the way through.

- I want it, but I am…frightened. I never thought it is this hard. – Shh, it is your first time, it is only natural. – Still, why my body doesn’t listen. – No, I am the one who doesn’t listen, wait…I will do something and you tell me if it makes you feel good. – All right…right…- Jon crawls down, spreading out supple legs for him, whiles she allows, and what he does is not licking or kissing, it was the purest form of pressing his head against her womanhood, and Sigrid went wild, encircling her slender legs around mighty shoulders, he is embraced nearly inside her, and for the first time, she feels her very first org*sm, it was her first and it was even more than she could expect, turning herself on the stomach, he quickly enters, filling her, the mating has started, she pulls herself up on her two hands, but he pushes her down, enwrapping her wholly, while he pressed and pulls her now within himself.

Oh, what is this, ah…and he bites down in the curve of her neckline, she screamed into the fiercest of the nights from both ecstasy and pain, but as the excruciating throe, from inward and outer walls subsided, so and the mark healed after being lapped and tended, this one was more lower and she could hide it or cover.
She was his woman now, no going back after the act is done, marked and claimed while Jon was hers, but he never halted his ministrations or deliverance, she came again and again, while his penetrating organ started growing far more piercing and protruding, inciting in her the sense he is going to split her in half, wait…Jon, wait and then, it came, he not only finished in her, it was his buried roar of the Dragon he let out and with him, she saw God. Oh, such the brightness, holy sh*t. After some time, he delicately woke her up. Her father is going to get worried, if he isn’t by now took his black arrows which were the venom by itself and start shooting at anyone who outdraws him. Hallelujah.

His faith was strong, but he was in the perfect need for the proof, and then she happens to him, he came into her life and changed everything, all what she was, feeling a blessing, at that moment she could be stronger, love even more her family and friends, making out of her a fine woman and due to her, he became a true man, not just someone who is real of the elven kind.

She pictures him without his beard and it was the vision for Eru. Her Lucifer, not Satan, the most beautiful man in the world. Manly and good. The King in the North, Jon Snow. Her Jon, he tells her while he reaches for her gentle hand and kisses it. Princess Sigrid, your Jon, not the King. It prompts her to smile at the never fading memory he bestowed to her. The grass was greener and softer with wetness from the morning dew and the fragrances she will never forget, truly pervaded her every sense.

Opening her free mind to him, Sigrid, in the monumental effort, to save her fellow friends, the children, the people and her sister, even with the Song of Rhaegar, reached Jon who wavers at what he was doing, listening her voice. Sigrid? So, she developed her leverage and upon hearing what she conveyed to him and where they are taken and hidden, he nearly fell down. Bard took the hold of Jon, worrying himself over each little thing until Jon hadn’t risen his lavender eyes at him and in them he loses it, he saw the deeps of what was taking place, as if the world ended.

- She is with my child. You will become grandpa…Bard – and the Dragonslayer, foremost, blinked, for he was stupefied, until he smiles back at Jon. – Well, then, we must carve a nicer place out of this world of ours, don’t you think? – Yes, we could – Jon’s breakdown in front of his people and another kin was too much to handle and so, the first who came to rise him up was Jaime Lannister, holding his sturdiness in his arms.

In this way, he sent the message to everyone. Even if the Wolf falls, there is the Lion who brings you back to your feet, for that was the creed of Lions.
- Easy, Jon, easy…we are all here now – and Sam, for whom his people longed, although he was still amongst them, draws himself near to his King and friend, something never changes to the end of blood and death.

- Jon… - and together with Bard who embraces his happy son, for the hope lives in Sigrid too – she gave you where are their whereabouts, I believe, it is time for you to completely cut with your…grudges against your own kind and accept the gifts which Gandalf gifted you. I know, how some life changes are hard to take in, specifically considering my situation and – he glances toward Gilly who in her pride stands on his side, encouraged in front of everybody, so that attention falls on Tauriel with bonded Ygritte, which was the astonishment to anyone of how the Life forever does in its own style all that befallen – yours, but it is time to use what you were given and who came to us – Jon eyes HALDIR OF LORIEN who smiles tenderly, watches with those elvish eyes of his and returns the favor of graces he was hailed upon too.

- You know… I am know trick or two. After all, Rhaegar is not the only minstrel and I am able to oppose his Song with mine. – And what is the name of his song? – He uses Ice an Fire, but mine was always Hallelujah, it is only appropriate, don’t you think? – it was the outmost surprise from amidst all. They never knew, but currently, it was their truth they learned, followed by the merriest news for all of them. The Heir to Jon Snow will be born and neither mother or the child won’t belong to the House of the Dragon, but just like Rhaenyra, they are theirs, of the North, and Lord Bolton in the flashes of solemnity and majesty, beckoned little silver Lady and Dame to follow his lead, stepping to the front.

- All hail to the King in the North, all hail to our children under the Northern skies, and all hail to our Mother House, Winterfell! In the name of Eddard Ned Stark, the name of our Great Queen Catelyn and all the Hands of Kings, let it be known, in this perhaps the modest environment, out in the open but in the closest circle of all surrounding people. NORTHMEN. For we are the Wolves, all of us, and perchance, just few of us, are the Lone and the loneliest from the rest of the Pack, but it doesn’t mean that we are alone, and so, let we bring it all to this 4th Bloodmoon, all the best and the last of ourselves, despite the truth of all truths, that for some…this could be the Final – it was the prophecy of which he has foreseen, the one, Jon plots to forestall for Bolton, he won’t lose this man to the Bloodmoon, he will FOOL destiny. And Brienne rises her sword, everyone else follows, while Lady and Ygritte howled, deep and long, let it be signaled, the Might of the Pack, all the while Rhaenyra and Syrax watched in the sheer wonderment beside Sam and Gilly, solemn Bard and merry Bain who was living his best life. Just being the part of history and witnessed it, made him alive. He won’t fail his Father, he will not.
Jon, recovering his speech, took his strides toward an Elf. Temporary or not, nothing was of certainty nowadays, but this moment is to let go of grudge. His voice holds all might of North.

- Haldir, may you bring…our children back? – what force was required for Jon to utter it and Haldir, nonchalantly answered. – It was about time.

Till they fight for their odds, Haldir will become the Shadow behind shadows, who thrives only in shadows. The power in the background. People sheathed their swords back whilst Haldir winks at Tauriel, for she was the woman created of gladness and mirth, and in the middle of the podium, ethereally celestial ascendency was coming to pass, the people of both kindred, who wept no longer, for they were witness to something grander than themselves, this was all the gleaned powers of Silvan Elf and among them all, Tauriel beamed the brightest, because this was the astral projection of Wood Elves. Yes, North has the raw forces, others have Dragons or even numbers but in what the Silvan took pride most is the pure magic of all magic.
*
Jon Snow promised to Lady Mother…I shall bring your man back. He will keep the promise, one way or another, either do it or die, fighting for Honor!
*
One Ring responds, stirring the black Dragon Egg of Jon. Making certain that never burning befalls any wood where lives are lost or realm falls to ruins.
*
No more to just stand and powerlessly watch…my gift to you is you.

The purest of the pure. I was the First. Sons and Daughters of Stars.

Chapter 93: Wings of Rainbow butterfly

Chapter Text

Stuck with me you are. Sansa. I shall create New Avalon on the burned world, using Dragons and including the Targaryen rule, why? Oh, well. You shall see the new world I mold, the one you won’t have the memory of, but like a child I would lead you to the eaves of the newborn sunrises. There is no need for my guards to escort you. I know you are coming to me. Such a sweet and good girl you are. My lovely Princess who hoped, for her brother.

- I am so glad you have joined me of your free will – Celebrimbor opens his dark and deep lavender eyes, the legacy that Targaryen blood is in him like in every Noldor soul of Feanor’s bloodline, carried by his own mother who is the primordial Targaryen Elf, the elven they all are, but regarding of the parentage, you are not quite certain who crossbred whom and hence so many shades – my dear Sansa – turning to lay his sore sight on the dream he reached in the dim and misted chamber where no one enters, where he conducts his ugliest, most hazardous und underworld’s experiments, for now, it was safe for her to come in, so he approved, watching her in the delightful purple dress that suited to her scarlet tresses so well. What he despised was the fact that she looked too much slim, and he would love to have her gain weight, it only meant once, she was with child, but not even after such a long time which passed, still nothing.

- Come, come to me, near me – she obeys, not keeping her gaze up, but down, questioning in the soft voice.

- My Lord…I wished to speak with you. For tonight – she glares up and he cups her fine chin between his index and thumb, he always does that to submit her to his will whenever she stumbles in her submissiveness – I suppose that I can’t, My Lord, serve you.

- Why not? – the cold voice was speaking to her and there was no love in it for each time she denies him, not even a speck but she held her stand. – I am on my period, it would be…messy. – You surmise it would keep me away from you? – the Princess was shocked.

- Why…of course. – Just prepare some towels if you prefer it, otherwise, all the sheets are changed or by the magic vanished – this was a low blow, you can’t catch him off guard for even a minute, it was a nice try. If she hadn’t done it, only the questions of trying attempts would remain. – In every way – he got closer to her tender lips – I always let your blood flow with mine, inside you – shuddering her to the marrowbones, he releases her, turning his Elf back to her.

- And, don’t rise your hopes, dear, your brother won’t save you, if anything else, you only contributed to more deaths – Sansa never asked for this, she doesn’t want anyone to die, and he plays her strings more than well – so, your duty is to stay mine, eternally. Tell that to your brother when he comes, let him turn his back to me and we all live happily ever after and if not – his face of beauty darkens, shadowed by the darkness – one certain Hunter, the White Wolf, the Witcher is after his head if he doesn’t stop in his crusade – upon hearing it, this very so distraught her to her boiling blood, relentless spirit.

- What?! My brother – for once she spoke her mind and he loved it, looking back at her who tries to hold herself together – is Stark. He is always Stark who does whatever he needs to survive and it is the same with Wolves of the North. Jon Snow. My Big brother... He is…the Great Dragon, and with his Wolves, he will crush down all your Walls! – it was the opportunity he waited to inform her.

- In your place, I would think differently, for my greatest concern is not him, but you.

- But why?!

- Don’t sound so desperate. You are my wife, you live with me. And I am your husband, and yet, beside the fact that you are not ready for immortalization in any way, for the new generation of people are much distinctive from the previous generations, but still, no mark is left upon you and I can’t put my child in you, as well. This is going to change, and so – he tells her all while taking pleasure – in this very dark chamber, I will inbreed you myself, artificially. Soon – all shields are down and she fights him.

- No, I am barren! Infertile, better find the cause for it first! – And I shall! – his black gaze falls upon one of her fingers where the twin light was laid, but he couldn’t see through it at all, in the severe irritation he notified her.

- I leave you to your candles to light your demons, back in my room. For when I come tonight, they will serve you as your only comfort until you do not learn that I am all what you need. Have everything you desire, in any form, but remember, your chains are mine to keep. You will belong to me in any way I see possible, My Lady. And you shall give me sons and daughters. I am going to extract them from your womb if I have to and now, reflect upon your choice to deny what is my right to own, and seize. And yes, it also relates to the unmarked self. I shall claim you. My Dove. Do not ever but ever doubt that, it is your only truth I give you to live. Take her!

Eregion High Guards flanked her from both sides and in the very disturbed disposition she leaves the chamber of blood, the one Door, no one enters without ever getting out, but she did, all of her own volition, because her little ring which Jon has given to her as the gift for her 13th birthday is growing weak every day against One Ring, and it was just the matter of time when the cloaking won’t work, for that, she must prepare, but first, she has to warn her brother about the lurking danger in the shape and monstrosity, such as was the Witcher, the one who did hunt Dragons and other demonic creatures who were a hobby to him, this is why they are created, discerningly for such feats when no one else does. Back to her loneliness, one little shadow makes the appearance when all Shadows weaken around her, for she was the rosy light they have drawn themselves into and they were the strength from which she draws her willpower even if tiny her light is, still it was shining as the mightiest while surrounded by nothing than darkling.

- Rat, I am so rejoiced you are here! – hugs him, surprising dearly, when he only recalls how she dreaded him and now, he was her only remaining support in Dark World of Hollin that comprised of the two realms, of a bright side, up above, while he kept her among his Shadows. – Ah, you are going to strangle me! – Oh, sorry…sorry… - freeing him. – I saw you have been escorted, brought back. Where did you go? – To him, I was foolish to deceive myself that it would appease him. Pacify for a little while, but nothing does. Nothing works with him. – You are…unsettled, how may I help you!

- No, Rat, you and your friends serve him too, if not, your lives are forfeit, you have already done more than…sufficiently and I will be damned if I endanger even one more heart, I am the one who should…help. – Oh, stop it. No one would live in your skin and under these terms, just tell me and I see to it – her mouth is the firm line until her unyielding nature isn’t melted away. – My brother, I want to warn him, but with all the gold I collected and the ties I made or any means I have gained, One Ring just counters back everything we have got. Even Ravens of humans or Doves of Elves and…

- Use the sparrow. – Eh? – Sparrow and Orcs’ refined Black Speech, no matter what someone would think, to One Ring, one little sparrow won’t present any threat and concerning the words, One Ring is all wrought out of all black words, it may pass unsighted, truly undetected. And Fug, our Troll Guard friend, that was captured during the Hunt, Gob, my female goblin and Uruk – Hai, my best pal, Hooga Booga, for we all serve as eyes and ears together to Dark Lord whose skinless soul is undelivered for he is the Lord of Darkness and Power Rings too, will take care of it, just tell me what to translate and your interpretation shall be both served and delivered so.

Sansa left without any words to share, hugging him one more time to the death and blood. What would she do without them all? Her friends, the only in her lonely shadowed land. When she just recollects how it was, their meeting, and now, they have come so far. Who could ever deem? So, she took her tools and paper. Writing it all down, Rat left as fast as he reappears. Watching after his vanishing, she feels her loneliness severely, far more and too much to suffer all in. Her Lady Lauriel warned her about her Lord, not to aggravate him and she did. Tonight, when he comes for her blood, she may only pray that it would all be over soon. The flickering of the forlorn candles were the consolation, not only what is left for her or had, but her last hope.

Soft power of voice prospers in the shade, and Orcs, like any Elf they used to be, born or mutilated, never forget the debt they owe, Rat owes to Snow.
Dark Fae world is glistening, Lady Lauriel remarked. You won’t love your Lord and King but you will his children or the doom in life is all what waits.

The weakening of Jon’s Ring of Light in which he poured his will of Fire and heart of Wolf is felt likewise by Glorfindel, through it, she feels something else, the same feelings he cultivates for his birth father are existing for a birth mother (aunt) who is alive. She collects all types of information by the Ring, but there are still lots of things which are remaining unclear, but one more thing she did learn today before she goes back to studying politics until He arrives, is that black speech possesses a wild heartbeat, may be read in fires and by the learned, but in direct contact with someone who is of Fire and Blood, turns into the readable human speech. Oh, she has a multitude of clandestine affairs to deal with, specially, about God Elf, there are all sorts of secrets around his life, purely shrouded. Having still time, she read her book, until she hears footsteps behind her, as if Shadow breathed.

When she finds out whom she has for Uncle Elf, who made a terrible mistake about Dark Elf, by selling her to him, it will be even harder to cope with the sin, for there is still the fable that goes around how all the East is sown by the wandering Valyria, the lost daughter of Lilith, who still roams the Far East with her breeding mares she still keeps in special bondage, tied to her as if through lays lifeforce by umbilical cords, in the same way, Feanor’s are too, kept for purposes of breeding all Dragons or legacy, into them are implanted wombs which to this day are producing, never to be sighted evermore.

Spring is here with all of gifts, and in the mid, you don’t want to wake a Dragon. While during the lay, elvish blood mends the infertility in humans, if it exists, so, why he couldn’t do it the same with…his Sansa?!

Chapter 94: Blood Sacrifice

Chapter Text

Be it Elf of the human heart or the human with the one of both Dragon and Wolf or any other way, only surmises, it is the best combination of both worlds. Therefore, what was felt on that day, when all was laid waste, was Haldir’s Song that stood on top of every Music and Rhaegar who together with his comrades were bracing to fall upon Dale, hears it, it was countering his Song, it was disrupting the musical waves and senses that Haldir was the hiding power behind Jon Snow. At once he turned his Dragon where the children are, informing henceforth Lady Hand that he has to go, she understands, while she and Aemond will carry on. Until it didn’t occur, the Astral projection found its path to the Secret Hill and there, in one carved indentation he found the children, where they were keeping them. He passed by the sleeping Dragon and its sleeper. The Power that doesn’t stir the still waters of ice, waking up the children, and among them, Sigrid and Tilda. Glancing up, all they saw was the luminosity of the pure sensibility. Children recognized him. It was Haldir, the Elf who came along the Northmen! Gathering around him, they listened to what he has to say to them very carefully.

- Follow Sigrid and Tilda, hand in hand, they know the way out – he showed the lane they have to follow – from down there, you two are the most familiar with the landscape, bring them home, guide them and leave the rest to me - nodding, they did exactly as he said, watching the last of the children who went away, until he doesn’t hear not one but two Dragons and their Dragon Riders behind him, looking back, he has what to see. It was Lord Rhaegar Targaryen and the High Guard to whom Rhaegar orders to join the others, he will put up with the one in here, after it was done, he spoke out.

- So, you were the upper hand in the background of a mastery. – It seems so. And just for your information, you are supremely talented, but your Song lacks the heart. And it is going to glide away with you, in the ruby armor.

- DRACARYS! – however, the Fire couldn’t do anything to the one who is in the Astral mightiness, and consequently, Rhaegar draws his sword, diving into his Dragon flames, until there he didn’t meet the Blade of Lorien, one against one, in the dancing of the ignited blazes, both danced, Haldir was losing the edge, it looked that this Targaryen is far stronger, too swift, than he estimated. The first step to the fall, when you are already fallen, is to underestimate one’s opponent, realizing situation, he pulled Rhaegar closer to the rim of swinging swords, where he rolled forward and jumped from the steep cliffs, right amongst the Grand Waterfalls while the Dragon Fires were still blowing after him and Rhaegar watches from above. The bloody Elf.
Probably escaped him bloodied, but he won’t be for long, they are joining back to the game, meanwhile, Haldir was back in his own body, next to him was Jon and everybody who supported him, and that was...well, truly everyone, couldn’t breathe, until Bard didn’t order to make some room, so he can catch the breath, they must hear their position, if the children are still in the hands of the Dragon people, then the ensued Master Plan falls to ruinations.

- Children are free and enshrouded, can’t find them, soon, they will safely return, it is now your turn – he says straight to Jon Snow – you may commence on – Jon took his hand in his.

- Hold on. – I will…join you…later – Haldir throws up, sorely concerned Tauriel with all others was right near him, tending to his wounds which were internal and invisible, unseen by the naked eye, but they were there, it proves the stories that Rhaegar was the Monster on his own league when it comes the sheer atrocity of what Targaryens are able to do. Dragons were coming and to Jon, it was enough! This all ENDS TONIGHT! No more suffering will be sustained, no more lives lost and no longer they will be followed. Sam brought the hot water and some cloth to wash away the sweat and cool down the elven body by the medicine Tauriel so far doled out on him, he will be fine, must be, but it will take some time. Bain and Gilly also were helping, whilst everyone else was riled up to the bloodied wrath.

No one touches THEIR ELVES! Not now, not ever. Rhaenyra told Syrax to warm the fire, let it burn stronger, and the smaller Dragon did just that and Haldir didn’t feel anymore, any cold, for the cold for every Elf, in spite of their resilience and sturdiness, can be the death of them, but Jon was, unlike, all Targaryens and the elven kind of his, one of the rarest to whom cold was his best friend, in Ice he thrived. Now, they need to forestall Dragons before they even touch Dale, all the fight must be led from the distance or there will be no chance if they invade the inside of the realm. Jon was serious. Feels how he got mad. Walks right into FIRE.

- Brienne.

- Yes, My Lord? – Your house is able to generate Ice, is it probable for you, to do it without…dying on us? – hearing this, Jaime like the infuriated lion involved himself.

- No, she won’t obey you, there must be another way!

- Jaime, my obscured Shield is thus far up, yet, I have to fortify it with…

- Bolster with my blood, you may bleed me, not her!

- Jaime, stops, what has gotten into you, do not speak instead of me, that is the first and the second, he is your King! Do not do anything for my name or in my stead, and yes, Jon, there is the way, I apologize for… - Jon smirks, eyeing the flustered golden Lion, everybody in the room, who could stand in because Bard’s home wasn’t such a spacious household, neither House, still, anyone who should witness, were there to see it. – Jaime…

- Yes?

- We know that Brienne is pregnant with your baby – if Rhaenyra wasn’t choked on her own saliva, she never will, because she was thrilled beyond imagining thrills! – AUNTIE, is this true!? Haven’t you… like… I mean, I listened…I mean eavesdropped when you set the challenge for my father. I am so happy you changed your heart and…

- It still stands…for him to prove himself as our next King, but…he doesn’t have to…for him to be my man… - she blushes in front of smiling people, bright faces, her kin.

- Jaime hugs her with his lion’s power, kissing her, she punches him under the chin, nearly killing him, Bolton noted. – You see, it wasn’t so hard, you are made for each other, perfect!

- Ouch, Brienne, why are you so rough! – You love it that way.

- Oh, you are all mine! Finally belong to me. I own you! Listen to your man! – and in the middle of the crisis, Jaime Lannister has just molded the situation, the epitome of it, he put his pants down and couldn’t endure it, no longer, loving her so much, only to end kicked amid precious loins, everything else is censored for a sake of dear readers!!

- Now, when all is settled – Jon was taking pleasure in Jaime’s failed attempt to attest his ownership over the unbelievably strong Shieldmaiden albeit the others were in the utter disbelief. Haldir was nurtured back to health, joining too with the rest, all the while Rhaenyra, covered her eyes.

- Syrax, is it over? – Yes, your father’s libido is for the scientific research! He just pulls down his belongings and he goes in. Wow, this will be the 4th child! – yes, the 4th as the bloodmoon, and in the light of the chimed bellowed roaring, it beckoning the arrival of Dragons to their Gates too.

Brienne got ready, made herself prepared, for a moment, having her reflect, without any hesitation, she bores her eyes into the present people and did it, to utter consternation of her man, she committed seppuku, anon, falling on the floor, her unwed husband catches her, Bolton is nigh and Lady is there to heal, for Lady can’t heal anything that is astral, but can what is real whiles Ygritte overlooks all details of horrors which are always brought along Long Night, the longest of their living. And so it was. The Ice of Brienne’s sacrifice has completed Jon’s Shield of God. Her cutting edge is pulled from her dying body, while Lady successfully saved her in the nick of time, if anything, Lady’s presence was the blessing in disguise, every time she is present, it was like Princess Sansa was with them who watches over her people and King.

Jon placed his bulky hand upon Brienne’s sweaty complexion, never again, he will ask from anyone to sacrifice themselves for his commands, now, it was time, for the King to sacrifice everything, for all who were sacrificed in his name. Removing the suffering from Brienne, the King nuzzles into his Northwoman, astounding the people who were in there to witness, present and sane, Jon Snow kisses her forehead and cheek, telling to their next King.

- Sir Jaime…you have been endowed with the most beautiful woman, your Dame, in the living world, thank you – the atmosphere, became that of the North, solemn and severe with the burdening feeling. They knew what he did, in doing so, he gave to Brienne and Jaime, his blessing of the new life, marrying them, binding together, and she was glad. Looking up at her husband, Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth, kissed. Their chosen godfather was Roose Bolton, just as Jon is to honored Sam and brightened Gilly. So it has been. Lady did her duty for without her, who bonded to Brienne, when Sansa isn’t here, for a Lone Wolf, can’t stand long being without its bond, is now cherished by both Houses, caressed.

Jon is passing through, the rows of both peoples, and both kindred gave their necessary space for him to stride alone before the rising Bloodmoon that towers over, in the center is blackening by Dragons who are flying from ruined Erebor. There will be no regrets. This was Justice for all the fallen, every tear, each sacrifice. Legolas, we will take our stand. The Last One, now, it all comes down to you. Hurry. Elvenking. I had to sacrifice Brienne’s Ice, for the good of prolonging both hers and Bolton’s life. In such a way, I perhaps, avoided the tragedy, but the greatest is yet to come.

Her and Jaime’s baby over whom Rhaenyra is wholeheartedly rejoicing, feels sacrifice, was spared by Jon’s ability, she trusted him just as she trusts her Jaime, that they will protect when all worlds fall and having no one to defend what has remained after the Downfall, collapsing of the civilization and the Life that was known.
Jaime’s heart, the half one of Jon’s, the one they shared, understood what Jon did, and why, holding no grudge of what Jon had held for all this time. Bloodmoon would kill the East and all the souls who live within, if Jon hadn’t laid blood sacrifice by his own ordering. Such was the Price. Jon Snow broke the Magic of East, passed through it and in this way, it is felt by all, from the East to the West, that he gained God awakened Powers in him, which were sleeping latent for so long that the Time lost its counting, when it never was, such was his mightiness of the faculties, of the Ones that actually could in the near future rival those of One Ring. This was the gravest and hardest choice God compelled him to do. With no hesitation, his soft side hardened... survival. Resting hands on Dale’s soil, the Shield of God, has risen to the Moon, reaching and enfolding the whole North of Dale, including even the Grey Mountains and all else under the northeastern skies, leaving out Targaryens, who were falling upon Dale! Should win the night!

DRACARYS ECHOES, VIBRATING AND GRUMBLING IN ONE VOICE of Fire and Blood. The Final of the ending reckoning night, has begun.
He wouldn’t be able to do it without the support of Azor Ahai. Anew, the Halls are filled with cries of babies, under the full moon, the Wolves howled.

Tywin Lannister found his ultimate rest, at last, and at the present time of rising Shield, Jaime goes through the daydreaming mirage, has brought all the siblings together, conveying to them, Father’s last words as he asked of him. The one who released him and by the one he found his hope to whom he gave his all for child’s survival. Tyrion, now Tara who once also reached for him in dreams, today is his moment of surprise. Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion as they remember him, are watching one another in astonishment. This was the interspace, between spaces, and it was as real as it could be. What has taken place was all Jaime’s doing. His powers of the Lion grew strong, mightier than ever before, and Cersei saw them both vividly, could talk and touch, seeing truth by whom Tyrion is transformed in golden beauty, the one that haunted Jaime’s dreams first and introduced himself as the new life he now lives, but right now, all what the High Queen could perceive were her two brothers, side by side, with nothing to say, three siblings embraced, forgiven.

Out of Blood sacrifice of the unborn innocence, Jon’s realm is given the first glimpse of new kingdom in the North, observed from the people of North!
I am Shieldmaiden of Ice, this is what I remain. And so he spoke, and so he spoke, now the rains of Castamere do not fall over the empty Halls of Lion.
Having nothing attached to your name except for Honor I swore, awaken are Dragons out of stones which bleed around the darkness that has befallen upon the Longest Night, the long among the accursed ones, and those shall sprout the most gorgeous blossoms we shall call by one name only. Summer!
*
Our shed tears are of stone and wood Dragons,
in humility we discover stone eggs of bloomed hope,
which bring to us our long awaited Summer, please Spring, end fast.
*
Love us, believe in us with all your soul, heart and spirit,
when all Kings die and lose hope in us,
You are what is left to us.

To whom is given blood, that leads to the creation of chimera children, in this way, Jon’s Shield is manifestation of the Wall, from whom he draws the blackened tears which signaled the prophetical event alongside with Heart Trees and their carven faces who cry the blood tears in Godswoods. That is the power from which no longer needs to move away, till it is gone. Now, Jon Snow, completely is in control of the Wall of all Walls, where crows caw.
*
Tarth, my dear wife, I am blessed with you, come for me, come back, to me in my dreams, seal my love I hold for you. The experience changes and hardens, and what we all have got to do is to stop playing roles. My Brienne, King’s Northwoman, if I fight you, I lose to you then.
*
Night King merged with Jon stirs inly, the one who wakes the Dead, rarely Dwarves or Elves.

Chapter 95: Shades within

Chapter Text

Daughters of Queens and Sons of Bastards. In the Elder Days before the Fall of all Falls. Seeing from afar, Elves answered the cry of Mother Nature, the one who gave birth to God. After the burning of Greenwoods that were being revived by their magic, they inferred that they can’t restore all lost lives of wildlife which didn’t survive or run away. Until it is again the way it has been, there is no coming back. This is what caused to change his mind and call Great Eagles upon which they fly, advancing so close to the destination, they could touch it. And at the same time, reading that Dwarves had imparted the Dwarven horses to Jon’s Pack which are far more fitting than elven to give, regarding size and speed, even adjustments to the slanted and raised environment.

Jon has got a rare raven horse, which actually turns into white whenever it feels like it, depends on the mood. Jon is now his rider, and the one who rides him, someone he intends to keep as the gift from Dwarves, making it special, even when his Dragon hatches and grows. Wait, dragon? Jon, I read you distantly. You stay full of surprises. Suddenly, the skies were raining blood, those are crying blood tears as well. Never before during the Bloodmoon that was looming as the hovered, biblical threat of the Devil, the sky cried, but it is now weeping and wailing. Elvenking knew what he did. Bloodmoon always demands the sacrifice, but if he gives it willingly without losing anyone, it rains like the vaults of heaven are bleeding. Truly, you were the Promised King of Fire and Blood, on the Carven Throne, your runes are of the Stars and the crystal hewn Sun, this was you. I see your Shield of God, as clear as it was born from you. It was colossal just as the Wall. The highness and grace, it was majestic majesty to be witness to new births.

Meantime, Dragons couldn’t pass through, but with the lances of all sorts, fire catapults with the heavy boulder stones and black arrows of the full venom by which they are filled in and modeled themselves, they were struck from all sides. Bard and Bain weren’t missing. His son has nothing to prove and yet, upon the first black arrow that flew, it found its aim, several others had to be fired, so that the Dragon with its Rider finally falls dead, but they had abundantly to spare. Bard ordered Bain to follow him and on the tallest house, they continued to shoot one after another, up until that was necessary. Dame Brienne on Lady supported the Dragonslayers. Gilly stays with Rhaenyra and Syrax while Sam backs as the aid to his both people. Ygritte and Tauriel with their spells maintained Jon’s shield. For all that time, Sir Jaime and his knights, with Lord Bolton and his House were aiming their own hard bolts which are agile and quick, efficiently targeting and finding the aims of their goals while together as 300, including Haldir and Tauriel were comprising of the legendary fellowship which will be hailed to these modern days. Targaryens had no chance to pass and they shall not, and so, the only plan is left to design, it is that at least one of them flies inside.

Concentrating their Dracarys on one spot and it was successful, Jon couldn’t keep all the Shield up and guard that one location through which Rhaenys was unbound to fly above their heads, but before she could even yell her Dracarys, Ygritte was on the top of the most exalted peak, and Tauriel literally jumped when Rhaenys went lower, catching her in the clinch together with her Dragon who scratched and battled to get her off of his Dragon Lady, turning its long neck to bite and blow at her. Every attack she evaded although people stayed watching breathlessly, whilst she does attack back, that was forevermore the best defense ever. Wrestling with Rhaenys, their time came, as it was sworn. Brienne watched with bloodshot eyes, how Tauriel fights for her life, never permitting Dracarys to happen, for Dragons won’t blow till they are not either goaded or commanded. All what remained was for her husband to see from the hovering towers of Erebor that his wife…is dying. In the Fire she disappeared, people screamed and groaned. It was grunting of straining and the crying of the lost. The fire is in Kili’s eyes who aided for Erebor, even now, not to fall into pieces, but his strong willpower was abandoning, up till, he doesn’t gawk at the Giant Wolf.

- Is that?! – Thorin shouts to answer. – Yes, it is the War Dog! Ygritte, Jon’s cub, the runt he raised to the magnificence! – at that point, Jon did everything in his hopelessness to gift their Tauriel a chance.

When he just recalls how it was difficult to accept her and now, they all prayed for her survival, so he not only sealed gaping cracks in Shield, yet even shielded simultaneously Tauriel from Dragon fires, who couldn’t control her own shielding, albeit fighting both Rhaenys and Dragon, it was an impossible feat, all up to the instant when Ygritte leapt High, higher than any Wolf ever did, alike she is going to spring from the highest and tallest pinnacle, over two Walls, and with her sharp claws which she buried into the Dragon’s hide, she forced Meraxes to bellow violently because she is on her, coercing her to fall, and in doing so, she swept fainted Tauriel into her mouth, hopping off Mera whose rider was swooned too due to the great punch of Tauriel she landed upon the Lady Hand of the Queen whose comrades could only watch her death, except for that in the last of second, on the brink of dying, and in a fit of her personal despairing, she woke, urging Mera to soar out, to run, being so close to the Hereafter, at long last, ultimately, made her rethink all this nonsense of capturing and hunting down Jon and His Pack, it was demonstrated as an unattainable dream.

So she is flying even faster to break through his shield, lastly, the Great Eagles of Legolas belled their coming, people looked up, rushing into each other, clashing until all what was could be discerned are wings and beaks that couldn’t blow fires, but they relieved such atrocious and nefarious sounds which finally impelled Dragons and their Riders, Lords and Ladies alike to flee from their sights. Upon the arrival of Elvenking, people were exhilarated, so very much elated for gazing at the Great King of Woodland realm, solely attesting what was a master plan to all.

He never failed, he never betrayed, he never let down, he kept his vow to the end even when his father couldn’t, he could and should. Dwarves were never more delighted and left amazed when recognizing that it was, indeed, Legolas to whom Thorin is vastly grateful, because if not for Eagles, Erebor wouldn’t be saved, for they salvaged all, including Dwarves, humans and their Homes by their sheer Power of Eastern Magic. The Kingdom Under Grey Mountains was revitalized while Dwarven lives rescued along Dale and its human folk, alongside everyone else.

The coloring rain was withdrawing, withholding not to weep. For not even the drop hadn’t fallen on the Realm of the East. And there is one heart that never suspected. His heart was in the right place for one Elf. Jon smiles tenderly at Legolas, who gave him back a smirk. The Great Eagles are the Force to be reckoned with, once they appear, it was a God sent blessing. They were on time. He collides with both Aemond and Rhaegar, releasing such the surge of the Light which blown away all their Dracarys and the cursing Powers of Dragons, so that their intention paid off. Rhaenys, on the spur of that chance, took the flight outside Jon’s Shield, for it was enough just one distraction, either of awe or terror, and she was out. Blaring the withdrawal. Falling back. Bloodmoon is Won.

Kili pleaded one of Eagles to take him to his wife! And they did, instantly, he seized her into his dwarven arms, holding her in his embrace, never letting go. She survived, crying her heart out, because she was so scared, didn’t want to leave anyone, not him above all else. People rounded up, around them. They owe Tauriel everything, if it weren’t for her sacrifice and Ygritte’s courage, just one dragon would suffice to destroy Dale. Chanted War Cries for Her!

- All Hail to the Daughter of Forests and Stone! All hail to Tauriel Greenleaf! – from above Legolas was happy, commanding for the return while Jon’s shield was brought down, one more time, for farewell, nodding in gratitude toward the Elvenking before turning back to cheer together and honor Lady Elf, who was rejoiced beyond her imagination or imagining dreams, together with her grinning husband. Brienne takes her into her Dame’s hands, thanking her.

If not for her, she would never be free. Lady Elf only denied the truth, for it was her duty, what she has sworn, not so long ago. And one by one, Tauriel is showered by love and cuddling embraces. Jaime swirled her around, she cried out of surprise and excitement, Bolton feels as a gentleman, just offered her a stern handshake she received, taking gladly while from Ygritte she earns a lick and Lady’s snug warmness into her slim body, she giggles. Syrax joins with Rhaenyra, for this is the woman that triumphed over the 4th Bloodmoon! The victor she was! Her Song will write all the unsung fables which are yet to arrive at her Doors of golden Runes.

Sam and Gilly thanked her a lot, Bard and Bain never had a qualm, kissing her on both cheeks, she was redder than a tomato, and amidst, the last was Haldir who firstly congratulated before scooping her gently into elven arms, snuggling into each other…and finally, came Jon Snow. Splitting in half for him to approach her. Everybody fell silent.

- I told you – his tenor vibrated – not to do anything what is not yours to oblige, and yet, you disobeyed my direct order – oh, no…here he goes again, people thought, Tauriel’s ears flattened, while Kili feels his anger is insatiable, but then, Jon Snow surprised them all, as always – and I am so glad you did. Thank you, for saving us... and forgive this fool of the King, all of you – he eyed all, whirling around before returning his undivided attention on their Savior – all I ever wanted is to keep you all safe from harm, worsening things, but then you came and made it right. Thank you for everything and forgive… - Tuariel didn’t let him finish, just hopped unto him to hug KING.

Her King as of now! And people sang, cheered and saluted. Chanted and rooted. Hand in hand, they were rejoicing in dancing because their children also were back at that very minute! Together, in all the inexhaustible happiness and little joys which mean the entire sphere of Life you can’t pay in gold or coin. Eventually, they witnessed a rainbow above their heads and the winged, soaring, airborne unicorns who came as Harbingers of the better days before the darkest Dawn, to pour their blessings and blissfulness, it was the bliss and blissful charm. In those days, when Dragons are driven off their lands, never to come back unless only as friends. Until the first break of the day drew nigh, they were celebrating. Together, as the Kin of both kindred.

Later, even Elves and Dwarves joined the party, of Silvan and Durin. The Leap of Faith recovered the White Moon and Azor Ahai in Winterfell is glad.
Gone with the Winds of Wildfires. Fallen Dragons and their Targaryens blended into the nature they desolated if there was no hope to bring them back.

And a little farther, where once in the southeastern region, stood Mountain of Doom, the eternal cage for the Prodigal Daughter of God, Dark Goddess Lilith in her true form Ungoliant who slain her Children of Three generations, destroying Freehold she presented to them and thus, Heaven was no more, initiating what befallen next, the survival. Still, the rumors lived due to which no one dared to cross in fear to awaken the Devil which was close if the Great Elephant of Jon Snow and his people wasn’t saved, only later, for they were first and only who crossed, she was waken. Elves were wrong to think that this is Jon’s blame. It wasn’t.

There was another and his name is Celebrimbor, the Dark Lord of Shadows.
Her echoing screeches are not waning, for all what is left of famed Mountain is no longer, just the undiscovered barrier that barely keeps her in, soon, she will be unleashed on Arda, that day feared everybody the most and who or what will be the one to stop the Dark designs, it shall be wrought. But one Shadow stood out of many, again he came to assert a Pact!
Once dungeon gates close before your eyes, behind your back with the blunt sound, all the light is taken with it, whiles being greatly cared for, by a sin.
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- I expected you. Your Wraith and Shadow that walk with you. Celebrimbor himself. – It is confirmed, he is your lost reincarnated son. Lucifer Incarnate. He hid under numerable names, one of them was Aegon the Conqueror, and now, he is Jon Snow. – He is Angel on side of humanity, fights for them, you are the true Fallen One, who devised Seven Hells as reborn. Tell me your real name – her dark voice from deeps has spoken.
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My name is… Satan – his voice was…the pure darkness - and soon, their precious Jon Snow...shall fall. I will make him. He is vulnerable to me.
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I will come after his precious North first, as soon as I am free from my cage that weakens while we talk. Consider our Pact avowed to last days.

As of now, from this night forth, we are winners…no Great or Ancient households or House, just humble homes which are defended in the end. Imposing stone walls of the unimaginable!
After all, only sons are Bastards.

Chapter 96: Bequest of Patriarch and Matriarch

Chapter Text

Snake nurtured in the bosom could end up to be the most beautiful blossomed flower. Howl. It was heard from someplace, afar, in the land where shadows haven’t nested Dark Angels and Demons, it was the land of struggle and real emotion. Everything is beyond and passed away, but the world was still fair during Durin Dwarves. There is even the proverb, as long as the Dwarves walk the Earth, there will be the Sun and the Moon, even when the stars stay clouded, the hammer will be used and the realms built, from ash and cold. Unwearied are those who hadn’t lost the child in themselves, all those boys and girls are dead in the grown – ups who forgot how the world looked to them when they were children.

And this is where the Devil weaves its cobwebs, for when Hope abandons you, this where the darkness enters. Legolas came back to his human immortal wife, granting and making her so, the one that is brought by Uncle Celegorm when Tauriel left him for Dwarf, and children he kept hidden away, now all is safe and they are returned to him as ordered. But not as spoils or claims of war, but family.

Upon his return, he saw Greenwoods as they were. Eagles and the Silvan alike can’t trust their eyes. There was no longer even the speck of blemishes, it was unblemished, and full of life, teeming with the awakening of the Mother Nature, for the Elf kept his word true to the end, and that was all what mattered. For Silvan Elves is said that they, even to these days, live among us, but you can’t see them with the eyes of the grown up, only as the child. Wish to see them and here they are.

The only who completely turned their backs to the sin, casting out the way of kin, the first, but perhaps, not yet the only or the last. Call of Wilderness is unto us. Storks are back, across the Grey mountains and over murky clouds which are cleared and with them comes a feel of missing and yearning of what has been earned. Tauriel bid farewell to her Kili, promising, she will come back but even he isn’t certain and maybe, both their destinies take them to the North, you never know, the only truth of which they were doubtless, was the verity that she has got the Call of Higher than themselves, she continues as both Gandalf and Legolas expressed.

She guides the King and his kin through it all, staying to the last of days with them until the duty is complete, feeling the kinship mutually, for she was ready like never before. Given the purpose is the mighty calling. Happiness for the adventure, for as long as she lives, shall call her soul to prowl. Just looking after her, told him all what he becomes aware of.

This is what she always wanted, all the time prayed. For the adventure of lifetime!
Howsoever, upon one eave of lush clearings where meadows brimmed with dandelions and wolf flowers, amidst them, there were Snapdragons, under luxuries which the Life offers, either gives or takes, yet he received, the very one Jon preserves, kept it safe, one Snapdragon she endowed him with, close to his heart. Enjoying in the mid of the blooming Spring, the Targaryen Elf of human ears, is in the cuddling position with his chosen bride. Sigrid.

- You have to go? – I made all arrangements. – You already did more than anyone for our Dale, don’t… - he forestalls her, having her in the upright position so he could bestow her, in her silk hands, richly is laid the rich leather bag of enriched gold and abundant silver. – No, Jon, please… - I told you, this is for you, your family and Dale received the abundance, it is only fair it is your turn at the moment. – I don’t know what I even should do with so much money at hand… – her lark voice enchants him, countless of lives he has lived through, but never even one voice allured him as hers, captivated he was, fallen under her art of spells.

- For baby and you. I will come back for you and our child. I will come for my family I leave here safe. I promise. Now, I have every reason to live and stay alive. I give you my word. Heedless of how it seems unfeasible, I will make it real – she starts weeping, it was stronger than her, just thinking of losing him, going against One Ring is something what Mad King would do, he wiped her tears with his. He had no idea how to explain her, that she must go on even if he is taken down. She must stay strong. – I can’t… - You must…

- I won’t bear it without you. – You must – in just a single moment of his life, his elven contours became that of Ned Stark. - I will come back to you, till that happen, I don’t want you to deny yourself of anything or anyone. Nurture friendships, when all falls to shreds, friends are the ones who pick us up, be a sister to your wee one and elder brother… of course, be daughter to that moody Father of yours – she got red in the face, she was such a sweetheart, he kisses her passionately, coddling her flamed cheeks while she gives in all her heart and soul to him, resting bare before him, while under her heartbeat grows their child timely. – If it is a girl…what is going to be her name?!

Jon rises his lavender eyes at her, deepness was seen in them, as well as the darkness unconcealed which was wallowing in secrets he knew and told her.

- It is… son.

- How do you know?! – in respect to what he declared, he had no reason to hide his powers from no one.

- Sigrid… you know who I am…what I was always – it was melodically such great sadness, swallowing him whole while he is uttering her his truthfulness, but, instead of the expected scorn, he was met by pure love she nourished just for him, she pecks him on the nose, making him crimson red for a change. Ah, her Jon Snow, just how he pleaded her to call him, not Sire, Lord or King, just her Jon.

- What I see is a fair mouth, purple eyes, ebony mane with lavish and solid curls – runs delicate fingers through his hair, having him fall in love with her all over again – and then, oh, what we have here, comes your chin! Look at just how sturdy it is! – he throws himself on her while she laughs under massive manliness, never before being as happy as she was right now and then, taking in each second she spent with him. – Turin – he whispered deeply to her, she understood, it was the name he wants his son to be named, their child. Yet, it appeared darkly to her, that name, still, she hadn’t objected. It meant to him a lot, that is what mattered to her, for the numberless reasons, she feels the multiplicity of his arrayed and shrouded emotions which wait to be free, so she abided by his wishes, because…you never know…if this will be the last time she sees him. Patting his brawny upper back where the shoulders are met by the honed blades.

- Go with peace. Don’t worry. All is fine now. Go and get your sister from the Dark Lord’s clutches. I am thus far aware that Dragons fit into pockets and so shall yours. I sighted how little silver Princess of yours is carrying her small baby around. My dragon.

The Wolf in him, the great and dauntless, kiss her with all loving passion he was holding in for so long. She held him firmly against herself, he has to replenish his strength, he was stumbling many times and being caught.

Giving him what he yearned for. Sigrid reminded him of his Sansa, insightful and thoughtful, just like her. Can’t mate any of his family permanently, just take but never claim and Sigrid turns out to be a heavenly present, sent for his insatiable desire or everybody would be at risk of his being by penetrating the entire Pack and that would be quite a sight or the absolute conception. All in all, he plans on visiting… Gilly and Sam and of course, their smaller Gillys and tiny Sams, if the Life allows. It was so hard letting go, but it was for the best. Their wishes are as much as significant as any other life in the wild, not just theirs. He must never forget to meet other people’s needs as well. Downright truthful. They mean just as much, if not even more, because when you do not know any longer for what, at least you know for whom and why. It was growing harder the more he fought himself and instincts of both Wolf and the Dragon.

Later, that night, Sir Lannister sneaked around Sigrid, catching her lastly when she was alone and it happened to be the kitchen. Just preparing to take out some refreshing drinks and refreshments when he caught up to her, conveniently. Without understanding what he desired, he shushed her in his manner, leading her out. Bemused, she followed him, it isn’t like she could fight him off. All these Northmen and even their women, were unbelievably well shaped or built powerfully and tough unlike their related kindred of the Far northeastern highlands. She heard stories that the North brings it out of you, you either survive or die, whether you like it or not. Contemplating if she is ever going to adapt if the day ever comes. Considering all the people, his home, house and everybody in it. Recoils her.

- Here, take this! – once more she was endowed by another pouch of gold, what the?! – It is from Lannisters, a wee offering – he winks at Sigrid.

Wait, leaving her in wonderment. Is North so full of prosperity and ampleness?! What was going on?! Where this all comes from?! IT was sweetened, such a sweet breath of the fresh air. This was the unnecessary opulence to her for ten lifetimes, it was needless, all these people acted like she is going to die from hunger, starve to death or it is something else in question, the culture is weirder than hers and customs are distinctive, and yet, it looks, that everyone else around was unto something, oh no…by then it occurred, she discerned their attentions, they were lurking, because each and every one of them longed to shower her with presents, because of Jon! Who is next? Ah yes, it was Bolton, after him, every single other spirit follows lion’s example.

After all, we all call the same Allfather of Seven Heavens.

Chapter 97: Light of the Seven, lasting and far – reaching

Chapter Text

The First Primeval Bloodmoon claimed all lives of humanity, the Second was the merging of Night King and Jon Snow, the Third is triggered between Robb Stark and Daemon Targaryen, then came the Fake one and the 4th which is meant to be the last, but, were they right? For the outlanders, there is always the question how is it like, for the ones of the land, the question is why is that? One little sparrow, miraculously and with effort, was flying toward Jon Snow and his Fellowship, the Pack, just for a little while and his little heart will be set free for he did his duty, thus, his mission is done, he is relieved to soar the infinite skies of the azure constellations, graced, feeling favored and blessed. On one of such sunrises, it was time to say farewell. Bard was gazing upon his son in law. Is there anything that should be said, or all to be left written in the stone, let for destiny write its own Song. Their lives are changed forever. They haven’t even asked. It happened. For the finest novelization comes about when all is brought about. Bard neared...King.

- So, Jon…let your Great Journey be one of the Ainur and be guided by the best of the best… - he held his tears back, withholding them in self, alone they were, just the two of them, for some matters should be spoken in between two men, just for them to know. Jon puts one warrior hand upon Bard’s perhaps older, but still sturdier than ever shoulder, giving a small squeeze, voicing his thoughts which are cast in Time and Space, with doing so, it was remembered on.

- We are now all the North. Remember, your home is my home and my House is yours. Bard. We are one and, forgive my foolish self, this is how my sister Sansa for all times wishes to call me and she is in the right, but still, I say you have got one son more, because you were my childhood’s idol, the dream unsurpassed and you still are, not because you are Slayer, never because of it, due to the heartiness, this is why. When the hope is lost, you never gave up. So you – Jon wipes Bard’s tears – stay healthy and mighty. Our people need us, Bard – saying it, it is felt something which Bard voiced back.

- You remind me of someone I have known for a long time and it was so long, that I forgot, but…the feeling is like Eddard is…here with me – Jon gives a Ned’s smile, for the day has come for Ned to find his peace inside Jon’s heart. Jon as was before was no longer, in his place is the matured, grown up boy in the body of the Man. Fully fledged to become the Patriarch of his own home and household, if the fate wants it so. – Thank you. I couldn’t receive the greater gift than today. – And I have something to give you, it is not much… - But it is to mean the world, for your little, will be our fortune and felicity.

- Yes…here, take it, it is yours now, and please… do not refuse – Jon didn’t because it was something that caused for his heart to break, he was broken, it was no power, no instrument or weapon, it was…the Direwolf emblem in his large palm, he glances up at Bard, in his ebony eyes, tracing the glimmer of the mysterious knowledge behind the grey shades.

- It was your father’s – with every word his heart gives a beat – he said to me, one day he will come, so…I knew it all along, that this moment will be… - he glimpsed back at Jon’s humanity – ours to claim. He had a way with words and how to get into people’s lives, in the same way that his decisions altered this world and so you shall with your own choices. Our Jon Snow. Everything what you shall do, is bound to leave an impact and soon, even your Dragon will feel the same as you if not already, just like that Lannister boy of the Pack and forgive me my doubts. I am just a man, and you know the best above all else, what it means. You enjoy her so. I never saw my daughter so happy with anyone, you made her laugh and for that I thank you immeasurably, of all men, you are born to my Sigrid.

This chapter of their lives ended and it was time to move away before Jon didn’t turn into the bawling mess, granting Bard to grasp him into his embrace while he returns the same with the intensity of both Wolf and the Dragon.

At last, they are sent off and Sigrid’s eyes shadowed him as long as her eyesight of visions could see the last glint for which she retains her breath, going back to the new life they are intended to create together with his best friend Sam who is left as the token of friendship between two kindred, someone who is the hope of the Return of the King, the symbol that ties both worlds, the best and the worst, the beauty and the ugliness and still all strengths and weaknesses are brought together for one dream, it is freedom.

- Devising a better world is never eased – Tauriel remarks when they distanced themselves for a good part of a route. Being at his side, for this is how he decreed while upon Ygritte who stays his Direwolf for whom he feels dearly, Lady Elf senses his beats of Dragon’s heart mightily, riding on his dwarven raven steed which turned into a white color, hm, somehow these horses suited much better to humans than the elven ones.

Their silence was hurtful, Haldir and her comprehended. Too much transpired for a short time and it will take some time to own it.

Yet, Jon spoke back and out loud.

- Is this odd horse going, from this hour fourth, to display a fashion show each time whenever I am not in the mood?! – this definitely is breaking the mold and the sound of silence, everybody laughed merrily, bursting into laughter crazily, for this is something they missed all along, even gracing Tauriel and Lord Hand with all of love because he clings on to them even fiercer than before, not allowing to lose not even one of them!

After some time, when Lady Elf recovered her wits, she explained to her new King, who is hers likewise, for she is now allied to both. Her kin and His!

- Not really – making her heart flutter upon the newly feeling – you see, this is in fact the camouflage, so, you behave and act as you always do and the noble steed is just taking care of all the surroundings. – What do you mean by that, I act and behave as I usually do?! – I meant orderly, normally. – You haven’t told anything about regularity, but like it is my typical treatment of people! – he goes again, never grows tired. – Jon, you are just domineering, you should relax.

- I AM WHAT?! – the horse turned back to black. – I just say – she was so brave, people thought, Jaime is the last who would speak like that to Jon, despite a fact how it looked or pertaining emotions of King, to Haldir, this is all so interesting to watch, hear and observe, fascinating nonetheless – whenever the Dragon side of yours feels that, you know, control and reign, it soars out, but when it comes to survival, you are Wolf. This is just you, who is wrestling with both of them, while playing Big Bad Wolf. – This Big Bad Wolf may throw you into bondage. – Ah, that will be amusing to you. Elf in captivity – she winks and Haldir couldn’t detain it, so he just stifled the laugh. Jon snorts at him.

- You Elves, stop snigg*ring. I am Elf too, but at least, I am the serious affair – this even his people couldn’t buy and they just snickered in secret, while he moves on with his grouching. – Sorry, sorry…forgive me, my Sire, however, haven’t you noticed something about yourself? – No, what Lady Tauriel? – Your voice doesn’t sound so huskily, it has grown the depth and fine clearance, isn’t it. Haldir? What do you think?! – It appears to me, that both of you, at first sight bonded better than we with the rest of you! – Oh, stop your envious self and Haldir, please answer! – You do not speak over me and silence my words!

- Oh, give me a rest. Jon! – the Elf on Jon’s left side, his Lord Hand, just burst into laughing all over again, it was contagious, because Tauriel was far too free spirited for Jon who demanded the order and quiet. After a situation is settled, he noted back.

- Yes, our King, is now much better with all of his faculties, potencies and by the look of you… - I can’t wait to show you all! I know these lands like the back of my palm! It will be breathtaking, I give my promise! – Just not if it implies the Death – Jon remarked back, it was now the Northmen’s turn to joke with Elves who got flushed in their visages. – You are doing this on purpose! – the King grinned at both of their Elves who carried on with their novel Pack whilst Lady enjoys the scenic walks of life with Ygritte, smelling in the air, ah, the fragrance of warm good Spring, yes, the good old friend. It is, presently, a preferable mood for them all.

Taking into consideration everything that was and whom they have to leave, regarding how it all came to pass. It was the wonder that they are sensing such a blessing on both sides. This was like it was meant to happen and not just that, in turn, they even for the exchange has gotten something more precious, far than they intended, too much and too strong were the White Winds, and currently, some other winds were blessing their favors. And, Jon, in the mid of a rather finer and greater ambience, decided to name his new member of the family, everybody did it already, but he just can’t get used to riding a horse anew. There were some qualms and thinking, except for the slideshow, he came up with the superior and by far, preferred name. Mimicry.
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Black Dragon Egg of stone and scales…is glittering.

Chapter 98: Metamorphosis of mutations

Chapter Text

This was the road where you have no way to know where it ends or begins. It was unbeknown and yet, so familiar. Brienne could breathe, no more Lady Hand to haunt her dreams. And when starts becoming difficult for her, due to their child…ah, their child. Jaime’s and hers. Mutual. Who would ever guess, but they came along, it was the longest road ever, and when it starts, they will all think of something.

They had an extra horse and Lady who is not separating from her, regularly mounting her, allowed it, over the course of bonding because of the loss of the Mistress and when Sansa returns, there is still the horse left to ride for her, it will be somehow, it for always was, being most happy for the entire family, and here were Jaime and Rhaenyra as the full support and everyone else who would devour anybody who even graze a strand off her golden mane. In the end, all the fakes and reincarnations distract to protect the Original. Lightshow of the Life was choking in blood because it looks that there are times when the Death forces to grip, but never lose. Yes, this is something nobody will ever regret for going upon this Great Journey, this was the lifelong road that will take them somewhere, in someplace, they never even dared to dream and what was the most relevant.

Oberyn Martell awaited on the other side and they were arriving, slowly, but about there they were. Anywise, Jon commenced having some strange sensations, he was no certain why. Perhaps, he ate something that didn’t sit well with him and still, Brienne and even his…wife for whom his heart bleeds, had no usual signs of pregnancy, but it seemed, he obtained ones.

What?! Is this some sort of emulation, like the one he read where men fairly much begin expressing similar symptoms as their child – bearing wives, feeling for them, in this way they would be supportive and the soothing comfort they are in need for, except for, this didn’t have a feel as it should be, still, this wasn’t it. It was such a sensation he couldn’t describe and no one to tell or confide in.

It was just plainly embarrassing and he didn’t know what to do. All what he is definite of is that he feels…nausea. Feeling no good. Perchance, he should ask someone what is this all about, happening to him, possibly it isn’t something what he ate, but he just got ill, catch something.

No. Elves are never unhealthy. That is the deal. He never had even one headache and this is what always rose a large number of questions which were answered upon the revelation of his blood, so, what is this?

- Sparrow! – everybody eyed up, it was quite unusual and bizarre to see such a small one, grappling to fly in these habitations, this was the scene they can’t forget for it landed quite exhausted right into Jon’s hands who cupped it up, bringing the petty heart close to his cheek, loving it, and it was even more strange to see him react to the little sparrow in such a way and act around it like it was something so precious, already feeling it. No one understood, they have sighted, but nobody could explain this weird behavior of his, even the human demeanor was something out of character for him, for he typically expressed all shades of grey in his self or through a being. Never hide it and at present, everything is altering faster than they deemed, and the little one is proof of all.

- He is just fatigued. Weary from the long travelling. Here, eat! – he took out some of the bread and crumbled it for the tiny guy to peck on it, adding a trickle of water in his palm for him to drink it too. This was the most gentlest side of Jon Snow which anyone could ever view. To the only ones whom he wasn’t seeming queer were Elves. They knew precisely what was coming to pass.

The organs, blood and the tissue is changing in his being and even though he is the Man of the human heart, he doesn’t stay human and very likely, it was about to happen. One way or another. Soon, the excruciating pain that would change even his tongue, teeth and… ears would be…shaped that of the Elf, but they kept their silence to themselves. Had no wish to disturb, but even some of his physiognomy alongside with the body shape will be reformed as well. He can’t move or leap as Elves due to the constrictions of the human form, it was evident when Tauriel escapes but he doesn’t and not just because she is experienced, the thing is…he can’t live as Elf IN THE HUMAN flesh, just because he chose mortality, it doesn’t mean much for he will live a long and full life if he succeeds, but not by the shell of human.

- Has he delivered something for us? Has he anything to serve us?! – Lord Bolton questioned, contemplating that the silence of Elves suggests only one thing. Something was to take place, except for the reality that he was smarter than to disrupt the natural order of the unnatural flow. – Yes…how did you sense it? – It isn’t around his leg or wing, it is inside him – and as the marvel of the shining pearl, in gratitude it was spilt out and the wee one flies away, leaving all the present people in the state of earnest curiosity. Jon observes every one of them before he unfolded it and opened for himself to read, it was destined for him to receive it. He wished for Sam to be here, if something is unreadable, he would feel much safer, although, there are his Elves.

At first, it was sorely odd. There was nothing. Maybe he should do something or follow some rules, but in his hands, as Rat foreseen, it reveals to the one of Fire and Blood.
The Black Speech for good opens only to those whose blood is of Dragon Elf, if not, either fire or the spilled blood will do for those who knew how to read and get to the words which are to be read. Northmen along with horses and animals grew aggravated. Even their Elves. How intriguing, for who would ever suppose that they would ever accept the Outlanders, someone’s who is not of their own. It wasn’t easy or mere, but those two were seen as theirs for all the time, even if they leave them for the good of their private matters and personal kindred. Lord Hand replied.

- Sire, our Lord…Jon… is that… - It is the Black Speech, except, not only I can read it, because I am of the Targaryens who possess the synthetic affinity to the Black Speech unlike other Elves who use their magical spells and…this is the translation, someone dictated it and that someone wrote it for… - his irises became wider, he stayed wordless, hardly uttering, for though he was a hardy man, it was the first symbol of the hope, given by Gods, looking up – it is from Sansa and…I know this Orc, I am just out of words! So thrilled. I shall retell you all about it, how Sam and I saved him, this is Rat, it is how he told us to call him, we wanted to give him some other name, before he uttered it himself and… - the look unto their faces told them something he should have known. It has begun, hadn’t even felt its coming.

- Jon… - Haldir mouthed it – I believe, we are going to read it later, about what it says and informs us of. You are bleeding from every cell, ears, eyes and even mouth… - Ah, what are you talking about?! – he wipes his nose, only to discover…the blood was black…no…the violet color. All of Targaryen blood is purple and what was this, he got scared. Haldir seized him firmly when he fell off his vexed horse, Hand took the letter and gave it to Tauriel to keep it secure. It was a trigger. Others enveloped them, giving them no room to breathe. Everyone forgot about their woes and for Jon, each soul found self all around him, resembling a circle in which he is protected during transformation so severe that he starts crying by the sheer shaken throbbing.

He clutched at Jaime’s hand, if only Sam and his Sigrid were beside him, he had no idea what is happening to him. He can’t die. He mustn’t. Sansa! Sister, help me! People held him down, and the growl he let out, along harsh groaning and violent grunting was unbecoming of Jon Snow, this is something what even people who are skinned are not giving off, he did. Bolton for the first time in his life becomes unsettled. Syrax and Princess cried sadly in grief.

- Shouldn’t we do something?! – No, this is the only way! Just be with him and every hand, hold him! – Haldir ordered, they obeyed Jon’s Hand.

Writhing in the pulp of the red blood, that was switching the colors, his black attire was of the blood, all was pulsating with the fire in his fiery being. Pulsing through.
The barbaric violence his transformation was expressing was hard to watch. Should they gag him? No, let him take it out. All what they had to do is cling on him as strong as they could. The most pressure were laying, Lannister, Bolton and Tarth. Unexpectedly, they saw it, the thirst for blood in Jon and his fangs elongated a bit, fitting into mouth, eyes are darker, of the deeper shade, dimly shaded. Irises are the pitch black. And the ears were becoming that of the real Elf. They had to bathe him in the nearby waters, to undress him, and clad him in the novel ones. It is over. He is Elf!
*
Where you wade, we follow. The longest and deepest howls of the darkest hour of the lifetime is escorted by Ygritte and Lady as Wolves of the North.

Chapter 99: How do we live with ourselves?

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Is he a Dreamer like Rhaegar or someone else sends him those dreams? There can be only one Dreamer of Targaryens and Rhaegar was both its Music and Dream, so, this is something he is catching from the other side. Who sent it? Through whom it speaks? By whom or into whom it was put and for what cause? Brotherhood with Legolas changed him. Even the skin in which he lives, under whom he remains human. A stroke of luck that he wasn’t a woman, or there will be a lot of kissing hands for him staying alive and well amongst them. Amidst the Far East. All became such a close family to each other. Bolton is Godfather to both Rhaenyra and Sibling she is excitingly expecting, the girl to whom was promised anointment by Brienne and arrayed she was by Sam’s precious gem stone which his family kept as the first piece of the Wall since a foundation, complete with King’s blessing and the rest.

Eventually, the figures of outlines appeared before him, and here was in some other world. It was the First Age, back into the realm in where he once lived, to the sphere of dimensions where the Life wasn’t better, but where the Gods and Titans fought their domains. As ancient as Time and as primal as Arda could be. He looks down, the soil was cracked and full of magma, the molten rock was slithering through the edges of the fallen rims. This was the End. What the f*ck was this?

He turned around and he saw it. With his own two eyes. Far from the spot where he was, there he is, Glorfindel fights against Morgoth who would later combine with Sauron, melded into joined one being, the Bringer of Gifts, Annatar, there is another vision, Sam helps Feanor, Elf Emperor, his grandsire, to defeat it in another alternate reality where was breathable even though there was no gravity, even so, there was the air. Oh, Sam…why haven’t you…would I believe you? I haven’t trust in you when I should…and I wish I did…because…I have such faith for you, yet, I was envious of your superior knowledge I wish to utilize for my convictions. Forgive me. I am flawed, after all. I am Elf. I was always one and the same. Elf and human, and there is finally the last vision of all visions, on top of the three mountain tops is the most massive and colossally enormous dragon he has ever had the taste to experience.

There is no such thing as Dragon who is larger than mountains, and this one was bigger than all three together put. Blowing Dragonfires at the Legions of Darkness, those were shadows who were falling from the blackened skies. Just one Dragon against the Menace that was groveling from the stars, it was from the planet’s orbit making the diagonal darkening, and the whole Solar system was infested, and alongside it will the whole Milky Way and then the Universe, but there was just that one lonely Dragon who wondrously stricken Hellfires blended by the Dragon flames and the Long Blaze that were blasting into Earth’s atmosphere such the bluish light that it was breaking the Life in half, the one…who was…never alone, for wait, there is someone on him. Who is bestriding such a godly beast?!

The only one who stood between the Abyss and the Drowned God, in the way of Death, but fighting for the Breath of the Living. There were even others around him, even some…goat?! Wait, who was it?! And he saw the face of the man. It was all slicing to the shreds. The Fire images, until he lastly hadn’t witnessed it. It was…him! He woke up in the cold sweat, encircled by the starry night, comfy fire and snug ambience, not even close to what he was seeing. But he knew. There was even the name for it. DAGOR DAGORATH. It was the BATTLE OF ALL BATTLES. The Last and the Great and among everything, Holy. End times were nearing.

- Hey, easy, easy… here, take this – Jaime never left his side, tired and tortured by the plague that was tormenting Jon Snow who didn’t let him finish because he was influenced by what he witnessed, even pushing the healing tea away from him, something what Jaime hadn’t welcomed at all, being strict about him drinking it to feel better.

- We live in the Last Days. And I found out my destiny…Jaime – he spoke in the hushed tone, just to Jaime, no one to hear, staring at him with the empty look. – And…what was the Dream? – I am the Sacrifice for Dagor Dagorath. I was never meant to live my full life…I am born to become the biological weapon against the Night King I turned into and the Legions of…you should see it, all that hate. How would I will be able to…and my dragon…he is the MONSTER ONE, the biggest that ever was hatched. You should be witness to it. Jaime Lannister. I…that Dragon was the size…no…even bigger than all three mountains. He was just…GOD IN THE Dragon Form. My child and son. He hasn’t even hatched and I love him so much. Ancalagon the Black. Once Morgoth’s Dragon and…the Earth is chosen to be the final battlefield…and… and… - he was losing his breath which unnerved Jaime’s much more than his speech about the End of the Nights and what he has seen Beyond the Walls of the World.

- Tauriel made this tea, she is the fine healer, drink it. – Jaime…thank you, but, I can’t… - DRINK! – he had to, after the first sip, he said…

- Don’t tell to anyone. Please. – I won’t. And hey… - Jon looks up in the bewilderment of how stoic Jaime looked, appears as the Pillar of Dominion.

- Whatever is happening…I am…ready. I am…I am just a human, but I will be here for you. I will fight! If you fall, I follow…I go with you. I give you my oath. Your life and death is bound to my Will, for we share the same heart and it hurts the same for we love in the same way and…I want for you to know. I am with you. I will be there. To all ends!
This wasn’t the cowardly Jaime who fought only when it suited him or in the mid of his own arrogantly wrath toward the world and people, who won due to luck, no, this one will take the spear and throw himself at the Dragonblood, ending it everything for them. Both hugged one another, Jaime held Jon, forever Lion and Dragon while in the middle is the Wolf, are soldered together. When all fails, and betrays him. Jaime will be his strength in shade!

- Once, my brother told me, masterminds are where shadows are nested and bred, and both of us, became something that surpasses the human mind and I understand you. Jon – patting him on the broad back before persuading him to take something to eat too – and so, My King, you shouldn’t worry about tomorrow, but only of this moment.

- Why do you say that? – he was eating in the small bites what was offered, God, this man loved when he is served or someone cooks for him, cheering up the golden lion. – Well… - You know that I saw my Uncle of Gold as well? – Glorfindel? – Yes, you knew… right, all along with others? Because of your daughter who went through Seven Hells. I can tell you, the medicine of Elves will be delivered to your children by your hand, but the remaining…I don’t know… - Jaime is endeared beyond words. – Then, I can die happy if there is something I could do rightly. I am a tragic character. – No. You are not, for you are no more your father’s son. Thank God, you don’t live in his shadow anymore.

- Hm, you think so? His shadow was casting the huge part of our lives on the same Wall that defend us from the nightmarish horrors of Inferno. – I gained the insight too. But, it is all in parts, glimpse there and here. But there is another reality next to ours. – Parallel? – That of the Dead, but it is no Dead, they breathe as you and I. They exist and live, still, it is more real than real.

Jaime remains quiet about what he harkened and so it will take the harder style which is not stylish in the least. However, Jon remarks about his brother.

- He was the cleverest of us all, and…I found out… - I know you did… - Jaime…what are you glaring at me so…strangely? – You should take a look. Jon. You are…gorgeous.

- Ah?! – only after the initial shock, he came to his realization, the beard was still here, yet, his face lines are smoother and his…EARS…POINTED?! HE TOUCHES. Took a small mirror, offered, from Jaime…does this man brought a mirror with him?! For what?! To look himself in it?! Narcissus. Throwing a glance, he had no words, left without them.

- You were in such a pain, we couldn’t help you, only follow the orders of your Lord Hand who is solid at ruling and it was stronger than yourself, there was no control, so I advised everybody to gag your mouth, we were fearing you are going to attract all the terrors of the night on us, but Haldir, opposed, you had to let it all out, still, my overall opinion is that it would look good on you, or a little bit being in bondage for a change and we would acquire some peace and earned tranquility – Jon punches him in a friendly manner, lion chuckled. He hates when Jon held back strength even with friendliness, even if he is aware that just one punch, stronger, might kill him, it was a good thing that Jon is conscious of just how much strong he had come to be.

- I can tell you that in consideration with the others…you are the same. Don’t worry. They respond nicely to you – for all that time, Jon was still scrutinizing himself until he hadn’t voiced something which made Lannister facepalm. – Good then. I am still good-looking. I am glad I am fair.

No salvation is for Jon Snow who was before too much cognizant of his shorter height which is now a little bit taller, but he stays one head shorter than Jaime Lannister. That is a pure myth that men are unconscious of their looks. All of them are more or less, peaco*cks, worse than women, men who love by smell and appearances to attract a lot more than by voices or integrity. That was the evolutionary part that lives on in each of the male gender. After the inspection was done, he gives back the little mirror to Jaime who set it back where it came from, in his stashed pocket from the inner side of his garments, clever. It looks that there is more of the cunning and crafty lion in him than he gives himself credit for, because Jon loved what he viewed.

Except for ears, he was gratified. And, Lannister wouldn’t be Lannister if not breaking a mood to inform him that Elves do not sleep, which means, Jon won’t also from this night forth, only if the human part of himself makes him, whiles the Dragon heart stays the Dragon and Wolf, both in one to fight evermore the vicious dance unlike in Glorfindel with the humanly element of himself within, the one they all call the heart. So, just dreamlike awake he gets to be with resilience of all types, reminding Jon of the letter he must read tomorrow morning. Yes, it was confirmed, convincingly, it is from Sansa.
*
The only ones who do sleep are Targaryens unless when they are waging wars of wildfires. As of now.

Chapter 100: Nampat of war chant

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Winter has come and is gone, with her, cold left us, and with the Spring comes another form of beauty. Maybe there is no tomorrow to see because the Life is bent on killing the good people, even if, albeit the Monsters are all who stay in the dominion of the Fall. Those are the ones who are hellbent on staying to prolong suffering. This was one of these days or nights because Bolton was impelled to sleep with the pillow that guards his butt from the intrusive f*cking Elf, Lord Hand.

What in the world conspired against him to get such the punishment where he is uncertain if his buttocks are going to survive the inescapable because that one skulks like the predator from the olden times. So, in the morning, even though it was the letter time, he voiced his concerns to the people who rounded up around their King. Because after eating the breakfast, they hardly could contain themselves to see what Sansa succeeded to deliver right to them, which indicated that she was of good health, something that made Brienne and others breathe easier, not him.

- Excuse me…Pardon me…ladies and gentleman and our…the most revered King, but I have a complaint to make – everyone looked at him like he fell from the tree, which he did, because he slept on one whiles Haldir read it mistakenly, to the Elf this was the clear message that he desired to do it on their favorite spots and where Elves most of the time are settling their homes, and so, it only ended into the hilarious outcome which they are just witnessing because Bolton was a little bruised and blue in the face but nothing that will harm or kill him in the long run, this was one resilient and resourceful, well – experienced man who begrudgingly spoke to the King of the North.

- Yes. You are the King who still keeps this Elf to leer at me at every possibly turn, and who threatens to finger me, I know there are far more significant matters to attend to and that I am as old as Bible, but I still prefer my butt unspoiled and I venerate my “innocence” which he is threatening to take with his insufferable existence and breathing. And once it is claimed, I won’t stay the same, I might just end skinning him alive and that won’t be the pleasant sight to see with all his ears dangling from his sides and you all know that I can’t take too much stress or his sh*t whenever he thinks he is in the rut. Believe it or not. I have a problem here I can’t solve. I can’t deal with it and to save my ass from the invasive penetration I would be forced to do the things my way and it won’t be a nice memory. Pillow doesn’t work against him, or any threats, but I believe that any of you are at risk just like we were with our King. So, keep your jawlines to your upper part. I mean, no one of us regrets that we came with our King on a Great Journey, the best we ever had and never to be overcome but if this affair is not resolved, I will just start farting to protect myself. I have spoken.

After some time there was the ghastly silence after which the people faintly hold all of their laughter to themselves all the while Haldir sees no problem.

- Haldir… - Yes, Jon? – If you would mind to mind Roose’s or better to address it…Lord Bolton’s ass…hole? – Certainly, why not. Besides, I am the good Elf – with this being said, Bolton rolls his eyes, that will do…for some time. – Now, if we there is no one else to voice a concern, I believe we are ready for the letter, isn’t that so? – they nod at Jon’s direction. He opened it, taking a deep breath, started to read it and with every word, it made him sick in the stomach, reading it out loud, only for all them demand the same answer to the question. Who? – Who did this?! Put your head on the blockhead to be chopped off?! – requested Brienne to the dismay of everyone present. – Sending the Witcher after you means that was the person who has an abundant quantity of gold to pay in full – discerning is Jaime – even my father wasn’t that rich to pay one Witcher, it is just how much they are high priced. – For what purpose your father would hire a Witcher? – this came out of the blue, addressing him, he wasn’t expecting it would ring some bells, and it did, from Brienne herself whilst everyone else questioned even more that Old Lion’s loyalties, where they in reality laid?!

- No, no…it isn’t what you think! You see, he thought if he hires the Witcher to slay the Dragon Queen, it would save as a lot of trouble. I mean, for killing the present King, he could always use the venom that just doesn’t work on Starks when they reach their fully grown Warg powers as the evolutionary response to…the perils? Hey, hey, why is attention from Jon, brought onto myself now?! – Your father was too much shady, even to my liking – Bolton broke something that could ensue the very long argument that follows the sound of silence.

- What can I say? I am not father’s son, nor I believe that I can buy anything with our gold anymore. I mean, you don’t even ask for it, and if you do, those are just small quantities for the necessities. Lannisters invested all of their future on piling silver coins and hoarding all the gold that can be bought and sold, and yet, the more I live, the more I see…that we…invested wrongly. In the misguided aims. Because…- people eased their hard core grudges against Lannister House by hearing Jaime and what they heard next, was fundamentally what changed for them to look at Lannisters as the different Beast overall – I couldn’t buy the love of woman, no matter how much I lavished her with the golden gifts of mine – all the heed falls to the caring Brienne and grinning Rhaenyra who was prideful tremendously, yet, questions stays to swirl in their heads, who was it, who sent none other than Geralt of Rivia on Jon Snow?! The toughest, the most vicious and brutal One.
Their heads were spinning from all the convoluted queries. Who was that mighty and wealthy, loaded to the brim to afford the best of the best of craft?

Because what they didn’t know was the certainty which Rickard Stark conveyed from Afterworld, whose awareness still dwells on this plane of Arda although the spirit walks in the form of the Direwolf, warning Glorfindel of the Legend of Witchers, for this was the fabled myth of which everybody becomes aware only when it is too late and you don’t want to become its prey.

For the Elf as Glorfindel, there is no reason to fear, he is God Elf, still, his mother and the woman with whom he copulated to give life to Glorfindel may fall to the Witcher as the liability of their son. This is why he sent through Glorfindel, the word to the consort he wasn’t able to love, to be careful, stay protected within Diamond Walls of Gondolin, to keep distance from those who hunt people of the Lore. Who created them, and how they were designed for this kind of World, it remains the mystery, even who was the First of all Witchers, nobody found out. Unexpectedly, Ygritte prevented from the further confusion that led to the clarity when silence isn’t living.

- Breeding mares of all purposes or mating of Dragons is not satisfactory, it doesn’t suffice to meeting needs, this is why are generated the mutated and evolved versions of Targaryens whom they christened King Bee or Queen Bees, something similar exist amid the kindred kind too, Originals of Stars in comparison to the Reimagined Ones, which only concludes that it must be someone who wishes to protect Dragon Eggs from Jon Snow and its propagation – while she talked, to him, she still seemed as his little puppy who wasn’t his Dog anymore, only for her to feel in a dissimilar manner from what she held for him, alas, she still kept the bond of the longing Owner and loving Wolf, staying unlikely long.

This didn’t satisfy the question, it was undue because Targaryens may slay among selves, but never someone who is as strong propriety as was the King.

- No, there is someone else – Haldir starts to talk, and when he does as Lord Hand, everyone else falls silent, regardless of the actuality where he harass Bolton, this was someone in whom there is abundance of wisdom to spare between the Pack. – I heard with my elven ears before we met that there is the White Wizard who offers the reward to all those who bring Jon Snow’s head, even then, you were the legend, now you are the fairy tale that walks and every soul whom that Wizard came across was inappropriate, nor there were quite the envious amount of the ones who would take on the task in spite of luxuries which are offered. But, there is one who has to be hired, he is costly, the high-cost. Paid by the Mage.

Only one name is pictured in their minds. Saruman the White. So, this was it. And who could have benefited the most from Jon’s death, akin to the One who hunted him because it was the same entity to whom Saruman is pledged. The Dark Lord of Shadows and Wraiths which are the Hordes of Legions, the Host of malevolent Forces which he plots to unleash upon the world together with all that lurks around from the shadowy holes, without being sensed. At that hour, in that place, upon the realization is unbound the Barrier of the eastern magic, of the Far East. Before them came to the light something that resembled the abstract, illusionary stronghold, through what they must pass. Haldir also distinguished it as the Final Trial to The Citadel!

Sealed Fates are unlocked. If I am the Great Serpent of Eden, the Devil Feanor, what is my second re-embodiment than demonic Celebrimbor of Rings.
Holy Grail is bound to happen, because of the venom, from the sheer darkness, comes out, entirely what we call the Hope, wholly and full that fulfills and answers, satisfy our every query, each entity of demons are now after the Life of Jon Snow, but God sent Huntress to defend, who is accompanied by Grey Worm who stays true to self and the goat that quenches the thirst of anyone who asked for it. It was noble Katniss Everdeen, the Mocking Jay.
*
She isn’t as human as anybody, not a mutant or mutated, she is the actual transhuman who went over her boundaries, so humanity, never feels the same!
*
Ghost completes his duty to Jon, staying with him to guard Walls of the World and Beyond. Ned Stark, now, lives completely in Jon Snow as his heart.

Chapter 101: Magic of the Far East

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Wherever children of Lore step, magic follows and the flow gets stronger. They were under siege by Dragons, they preyed on them for a long period, but didn’t breach through, now, let them wait at their House, licking wounds while they lick theirs by passing through. Let us be reminded first. The Ring has no effect on Glorfindel, in return, Glorfindel can’t destroy it either.

That is the Pact of both being re-embodied and that of God Elf. Just as elven men breed in wombs inside male humans, so women do their ways of the elven kind by impregnating female humans. Taking the longer road so that the mightier are not sensed till the time comes, for it is easier to creep on humans, though on the animal, Glorfindel would be spotted foremost, so, no mounting either too. And he can’t channel his powers much, or he get uncloaked lightly, still, he uses mainly absorption to harness but those things… whoever runs into them…couldn’t challenge or his cloaking would be felt by the Ring through it. Doesn’t respond mutually to one another, that is why he gave, at least, a chance to unlucky ones by reducing their raw force.

The rest is up to the unfortunate who are destined to meet them. Not him to interfere in the red strings of kismet. For to him, where there is no challenge, it is no fun, save this…he has got to leave to the people who had to overcome odds. So close, you can touch and yet, so aloof from everything known. For the time being, it can truly await whiles we are back to the Pack!

- Oh, you Glorious Barrier, you with the residents within, come down with your opening Gates and welcome us inside! – someone would think how it goes just fine for Sir Jaime Lannister who had tried really hard, as the chosen envoy, to endear the Barrier to fall for them because Tauriel said and Haldir agreed, that no Wolf or Elf can do it because it is the Magic of the East. It must be someone who is human, and among everyone, Jon chose Jaime who had his charm and way with the words, still, a few of them weren’t that happy with what they were seeing or noticing, because it was starting to become the laughing irony. – I definitely don’t understand why you chose Jaime over… out of all of us who are humans! I mean, you are partly human too… but…

- Lord Bolton, what do you mean by I am a halfway human, I am human, just because I have these ears sticking out at you, it doesn’t hint that I am not one of your own! - You seemingly don’t understand him – Brienne meddles – Lord only meant that you could have a much better use of someone who knows to do…you know…the affairs with more practical and diplomatic efficiency.

- Diplomatic?! This is all about Magic, you don’t do any diplomatics with the Magic of the East, whether we like it or not, be it higher or low. This is something we can’t control or master, it is silly, but it demands to grow patience, especially the Far one and besides, I can’t choose Lord Bolton. – Why not me?! I demand to know?! – You don’t look so good, even your tooth fell out and overall, you are falling apart and Dame Brienne? Sorry, but you are just scary, you would scare away the magic itself and it would never open! – Brienne went into the sulking mode while Lord Roose Bolton did it his own style.

- And you chose Jaime because he is…good – looking? – I have got to start with something! – Jon Snow. – Yes, Lord Bolton? – Jon, you are my King, but I still tell this to your smug face. f*ck you – this made Jon even more rejoiced because it was as funny as Hell, seeing the jealous displays which were sincerer than ever.

- Don’t be like that, at least, you wrote the notes which he is to follow if we are to ever break the Magic of this eastern hemisphere. Of course, unless he can’t read your handwriting, that would show itself to be a little bit of the problem, not the solution. – He might do it all by himself just fine, it isn’t his first time, I just thought to help him out a little.

- Hey! I am laying siege here and I can’t concentrate because of you! – Jaime turns to the Ones who were on the other side of the river, waiting for the Stronghold opens its mouth to Jaime miraculously. – Your concern, not ours! – Bolton swears it back! – You are so mean! I can’t read the half of stuff you have scribbled here! And what is this…lay down your…tampons?! – Not tampons, you fool! Weapons! – Ah…I see! – he was more than joyful to please, but this was going nowhere and Jon with all others was getting dismayed at the sight of complete absurdity. – Just, get it done, Jaime!

Why is everybody in such a foul mood?! Very moody. Oh well! He has to scrutinize his looks by taking out the small mirror and brushing his lovelocks off his comely visage. Hm, maybe some perfume to be added, with the dash of the springtime morning? The essence? He has to always look suitable whenever there is an opportunity to conquer something. His people just couldn’t trust their eyes any longer, what the hell he was doing, when suddenly.

- Oh, glance at what we have here?! Girls! – everyone, including Brienne who was well acquainted of this side of Jaime, had no words, simply, not even Jon…he really did it?! He attracted something with his…attractions?! Sexual appeal!? Brienne longed to carve out his liver and eat it! No, she wasn’t…in jealousy, why would she?! Jaime winks back at them, specially Brienne, who reddened as the bull…Jaime gulps down, he has to collect his wits.
She was the woman of his life, the love of his…everything, but man, she is the scariest person in the world, and so, he put all his tools back into his appropriate places around the belt, and cleared his throat.

- Hello! Who are you, again?! – Have you come to conquer us!? Better you to take care of us than we of ourselves, here, some extraordinary evil beings are creeping around. – We know! This is why we would like to pass! – You haven’t answered?! Are you the conqueror?! – he took a second to think, is he?! Is that a trick question or the figure of speech?! He has got to whirl to his North kin back for the counsel to claim, all of a sudden, it was like he hears the bells in the background, is he only hearing it or someone of his…yes…his too, what is going on, it is delightfully wondrous to feel it, and him to take it, to own and not just look at it, but see it as real of how one migrant whose children became the firstborn Northerly people, became the part of them and they of him, making him haughtily proud, however, what to ask…how to act out the enquiry?!

- What may I give as an answer?! I listen to them from the tallest towers, but I don’t see!? What do you think?! All of you?! – the thing was, humans couldn’t discern, but Jon and Elves rightly saw through the Magic. No, it wasn’t the beautiful young woman with the voice of the finch. It was something of the darkness and how to treat it or behave toward it? Perchance, it wasn’t such a good idea to send Jaime. He is human and it is allured by his heart. – Just tell them, I am the One!

Jaime attempted. Nope. It hadn’t done any work. This was becoming ludicrous, until the High Mouth didn’t open wide, thus fashioning a water bridge.

- It worked! I can almost feel it. Very soon, we are going to free your baby sister! That girl is ours! – Jaime never hid the truth that he adores the girlish Princess of the North, she was girly and the nicest when she wants to be, reminding him of his…self?! Even though this didn’t go out great, it did played out finely, save even then, at the present time, inward human members of the fellowship grew the qualms they start showing.

Something was coming out. It is impressive to know that Jon’s word means so much to the Magic of the East, it alluded just how much Elves are connected to it, and he, out of most, because this is where his beginning started. You see, there was never snow before in these regions or anywhere on the planet, only when he appeared throughout his numerable lives, the Snow brought with its being, the frost and snowflakes, henceforward, we have got the snowing, and all bastard children were named Snow.
Like the Spirit of the Old Lore, Jon’s soul is one of the oldest, of Olds, of olden times and ancient of the Elders. Jaime is to confront it, not alone. They got his back. Apparently, one slow figure with the rod and some animal were forthcoming.
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Outside of the shade…Commoner’s Blackblood of the Elder Common.
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Little silver Lady Rhaenyra and her baby Dragon held their breaths jointly with the others.

Practised are Higher Mysteries. The change in blood becomes the response to the evolution, in both humans and the Lore.
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The growing shadows, the sound of flapping wings, the sizable bodies and sharp claws, the breath of fire and the roaring bellows…

Chapter 102: Woes in disguise

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Whispers of haunting. The enthralling river changed its color in emerald. Grey clouds above are hoarded in heaps. Brienne deems how the eastern magic wakes back to the world after Dragons’ withdrawal. Rain was about to start with bolt and thunder. At least, Lannisters weren’t all over her, let Jaime put up with it. It looked…good? She recalled what he said to her. About the Blood Queen of Dragons and her Grand Halls which are boundless. He gained visions as well on his own strength, not through Jon. It was meaning something but, firstly, nobody knows what exactly. For Westeros is just a small part of us all, and the world is even vaster where the only left standing Citadel in the East was that which hosted the House Martell who took a vow, no matter who or what asks for the Haven, the plea shall be granted and by their odds, they came into contact and henceforth, they are expected for so long. So close and yet, so far away still it felt.

The old man was hardly drawing near, that turtle next to him was…faster and it just passed by the puzzled Jaime who didn’t know what to think of it, all the fooling around ate its breakfast, leaving Jaime and others who kept glancing at what is occurring in Jaime’s direction while he did the same at theirs, mainly at Jon Snow who nodded to him to continue, he may trust the process and Jaime did, what is left for him anyway. Readying himself for the elder and slow man who came over to him with his stick and wrinkled skin. It appeared that this is a Host of the demonized House from behind. Because all this sweetness is awkward even for him and the man lastly reached Sir Jaime Lannister.

- Ah, I see…- glancing up in the hoarse voice to eye the beauty of the human – you are one fine man, very…very fine…no wonder you were claimed, but you are free…your Owner is dead. – He was never my Owner, leastwise in this life. I am the Master of my own fate.

- I can see it, regarding your…child and…the way he influenced your…nature.

- State your terms.

- Ah, youth. And that blood of yours…is human but of course, once you are mated…it changes the nuances in you, by the color or…something else – he eyes up in the mystery, the demon behind human irises truly got fond of Jaime. He loved what he saw and he lusted after it. – You know…when Feanor was born, the Spirit of Fire, there was the storm like any other, but when Glorfindel was brought into this realm of existence…Arda Stood Still. Those two are our outmost ferocious punishments who formed our lives and the grandest Protectors of the Universe. And, why am I telling you all this? I sense his blood in that King of yours.
- Jon Snow is the grandchild of Spirit of Fire, the bloodline that stems its origins to the House of the Dragon.

- Like several others, irrespective of what it precisely means upmost, because people reckon as always, that the blood is what matters, but you see…we build it all up by something, it doesn’t matter what he turns out to be…even Lord of Light we all bow with blood sacrifices, be he Lost son or Lucifer from Dark Goddess, Prodigal Daughter of Eru’s children, the Black Mother…Lilith, or Aegon the Conqueror or today, Jon Snow…you chose to follow this man, not because of who or what he is, but what lies in his heart – snigg*ring of women was harkened from the shaded lights, it disturbed Jaime who looks up, only for the older man to silence them gravely. – I will kick you all with this stick if you do not shut your traps! – so he turns. – Men are speaking and all what they do is yapping!

- Who…what are they…and you? – Me? Why of course, we are snakes. All of us is a snake, young…man – the twinkling in the elderly grandsire’s irises was more than it met the eye, and his captivating, spellbound orbs of the Patriarch were the dream to behold, he could be anything, yet he chose to take this form. Interesting. He is both charming and tempting him.

There was something else too. Yes, it is one thing when the demons are consistent, but it is another thing when someone emulates them! This was personifications and they were perfect, without a single flaw. This was someone who was in Valinor and came back, how can he tell? Well, that twinkling. He wasn’t looking in the eye of the demon, he knew in which skins they are nurtured, this one was Elf. Yes. Seeing what no one did, in fact.

- Why? You ask yourself, hm…yes, so exquisite and of high quality is your blood, like in any human we came across, but you nourished yours with all the shades of this kingdom, so, tell me…what do you expect to view when I show myself to the full light, materialized into this sphere of Life. – Elf. Who are you? – the aged man was no longer, very soon, in front of him to the bemusem*nt of everyone present was the First Son.

It was Maedhros the Tall. Holy Cow! This man was the tallest Elf ever. Firstborn and Trueborn of Feanor. For the Love of God. He was like the nightmare that frightens you just with its giant and strapping appearance.

He is greatly acclaimed, vastly praised and lauded as both a diplomat and the warrior of the highest esteem. Much more different than the rest of his brothers. The most profound distinction was his appetite.
This man lived to eat. His blazing soul of the white flame, sometimes, burned grander than that of robust Glorfindel who is shorter than him, yet no one was to be compared to God Elf, no matter how much all hungered for or envied Clown. What comes down is sheer will and the focus, the determination that is unlikely to re-occur every again in all the likeness either within Walls of World or Beyond. He is about 3 meters in height, still grew, with a gracefully built waist, brawny around the neckline, while the jawline is firmer looking than in other elven males and by his wild blood mane, he was the spectacle who forces into despair. Jaime took a step back who is a tall man himself but this is something out of ordinary. Was this on purpose, to make the impact or this was his true size which he covered up whenever it suited him, for his personal needs? No one needed to know just how much in reality, Maedhros is…high, this only contributed to the tales which resulted in the true words and this Elf cast the largest shadow upon the Wall you might even consider as a monstrous abnormality he represented in Elf.

- You are not full of surprises like some Elves I have known, we thought you were gone to Valinor. – We stayed behind, my mate and I! My Fingon...

This voice was one of those you do not like to listen to, and with the presence of the High Demon, Maedhros was one of the deadliest Elves, considering he is a Feanorian. Jon concludes what was this all about, it would explain the Mirror of Feanor, they have brought it from Valinor to Elvenking’s Halls of Woodland realm. For how much long it was sitting in there, roosted in one spot. Legolas didn’t lie, he just was unsure even if the Mirror of the serrated and edged rims is even real until Jaime hadn’t shattered it into the tiny shards which couldn’t piece themselves together and this wasn’t the Water Mirror of Galadriel, this was Feanor’s, which is made distinctly for this kind of situation. Jon drew out his Longclaw. It is intentional.

- I may assume that other people follow your lead, Jon…my dear nephew – the red eyes rose up to judge those of Jon’s and those of Elves alike, Silvan, their betraying kindred to the allied humankind, and each soul that was with them, is very now readied to the bone and might, their willingness to fight over and over again their oddities together.

It was impressing Maedhros and amusing Fingon who was mimicking all these voices, finally, appearing beside his First Mate as the High King of his own dominion by the side of the one who conquered him, Emperor’s son, the High Prince of Feanor, the most notorious lineage of all elven kinds. The Foothold turns into the lush mirkwoods, and all what remained are just the two of them who towered over Jaime’s fear.

Everybody feared for Jaime, fostering the atrocious dread for his life.
Jon and all else… how could they be so deceived, deluded, and it wasn’t great, it was an enormous fail, risking Jaime’s freedom who is unsheathing his Iron Sword which rivals Valyrian Steel of any type which is wielded, redesigned and mastered by the Elvish related bloodlines, except only in its refined and the purest fashion that styled Gods, like the Greatswords, it could even overpower the godlike powers of the vilest if manipulated cleverly. Feanorians altered their blood of their own into the black, for the higher protection and disguise, while for a Targaryen it was purple and for some others it was either green or remain the blood which is too crimsoned beclouded scarlet, brilliant and rich. The changeling mutants.

Not chimeras. This was what was the evilest of all, always the Ones who mislead, lead you astray. They are fools. Tauriel has spoken first to the Noldor.

- Tell us what you want, why did you come for?! – Ah, the brazen and forevermore intrepid Lady Elf and by her side…the Lord One. What do we want? The One whose Magic is not of this world, he is born as human, but he is not, and he is among you. Under the human skin, in the humanlike shell. He is the Empath of your Pack. Sam Tarly. Where is he? Without his presence, your spectral features and witching properties wouldn’t allow you to break the Childlike Mirror who shows child brides and boy Kings who believe that the Life is what we make of it – breath of whispering.

If it weren’t the stroke of luck that Sam in truth stayed where he is. How can Elves get into the possession of anybody if that person is not here, although they can come back and assail, besiege Dale anon. That won’t happen. These two had to be cut from their roots. Prevented, impeding them from the further outbreak. Or they will stop at nothing. Tauriel held her silence for quite long. She shouldn’t about Sam, which she thought was the best way to protect and this is something which even Feanor advised her to do. Now, the bewilderment and shock is all what ensues sequentially. She should, in the least, confirm it to Jon, by the look of it. Haldir and her, became familiar that Snow figured it all out, now everybody knew. Sam is Muse. Their Highlander and the dearest Northerner which he stays in hearts, forever…

Fellowship of Two Towers knelled…

Chapter 103: The Return of the King

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A coat of gold or the color red, it is still the lion who spoke that this isn’t his funeral song, it isn’t about anyone else’s, it is about rising from the ashes, and all what Tywin did alongside with Ned, all the sins, are to be repaid. For Lannisters paid their debts, even in blood and steel. Maedhros swung his imposing sword on the much smaller opponent who took the full blow, and held it back. Brienne and the others gasped. No one, literally, nobody of the humans ever endured even one swing of Maedhros, the Titan Elf and yet, his knees are down and above his head is the sharpest blade that in one flap, will remove his head from the shoulders.

Jon instantly just like everyone else reacted to no avail, Fingon brought up his enchantment, capturing them all in one movement, holding down, they grasped to control their bodies and get free, while Jaime Lannister understood there and then. This was the day, and what we say to the Death when it looks us in the eyes. Not today. Brienne called for Jaime, clutching at her belly whiles Lady and Rhaenyra with the baby Dragon Syrax were helping her to get herself on the feebly feet, all the while Jon and Elves, including Ygritte and all of the Pack, pushed against Fingon’s spells, alas, Jaime stooped down, making the flip and roll, and then the half – star in the air, his agility and prowess in the fighting improved, successfully he avoided all the attacks, bracing himself to land the blow, but this one must be the real, the one that makes the difference, and it did, stabbing Maedhros into the foot, he screeched, Fingon for a moment wavered and it was enough for Jon and the Pack to attack, passing through, ending in the battle with Fingon’s wraiths which delved out from the bottom of the Earth, seizing and grabbing people, attempting to either pull them in or to rip them apart, asunder was the Battle at the Eastern Barrier, Jon fought to get to Jaime, but as we spoke, Jaime was…at that hour and in that place alone with the uncompromising Blood Beast.

It was one of the days of which father warned him. You will watch the Death in the eye and you will know you are not ready, and yet, you will wrestle to the end, grapple in the brawl, the fact that you are my son, but never a lion.

Listen to me.

When the hour comes and it will, just as we practiced, USE YOUR CLAWS. And he did, because this impact nearly broke his spine in half and he scratched with his sword, the knee of Maedhros, rolling over, creating the flipping twirls, just to get out of the way, from the furious storm and of all who are born in such a way. The Rains were falling, raining the blood of tears, no, it wasn’t Bloodmoon, for everything was dimmed and obscured. Beclouded so in wetness, running the blood of Jaime Lannister. Maedhros cut him and slashed through his bones, gushing and the blood flowed. Jon saw red, JAIME!
As long as the half heart holds, Jaime will too. And in the utter shock at the last of his breath, for it was time for him to be decapitated, Lannister asked in his dying moment, his tears were proud, his family and the ancestry from below or up, all the people in the North, and those with him, like they felt, Death.

- And who are you, to whom I must bow so low?! – wheezing in the shallow breaths, he is never to see his child born, his and Brienne’s, mutual, this was the price. Drenched in tears, blood and grey rain. – I am your Death…but it won’t be delivered if you…betray Sam. So, tell me, Lannister, no one of you won’t…but save yourself. Live to see your child born, TRAMPLE ON CORPSES OF THOSE who stand in the way of your happiness. GIVE ME SAM. And you live. Don’t be a hero. You are…after all, just the Doorkeeper. So, save your brood along your life, and I give you my sworn pledge…you are free to go. Now…BEND THE KNEE – his cusp of the elven sword is at Adam’s apple of Lannister, and so he spoke to him, once again… - What is the life of one wretched man to your Great House from the primordial times. He is…but a name, the one you have to serve it to me. Come on, you are a Lannister. You betray, you were always the best at what you did for your survival, kneel.

It burst within…Jaime didn’t. He waved for the last time, and his sword didn’t end being swallowed or broke, he did unthinkable, cutting off an elven hand. Jon who was nearly there to take the strike on himself, could only watch how Jaime showed his claws, screaming. Never! I am the Man of Honor! He wielded his cutting edge with the power of all lions and Rhaenyra, like she could see, how silliness disappears and in its place, retaken was the Lion!

- I am maybe a Doorkeeper, yet, no more WE ARE HOUSE OF CUTTHROATS! – breathing faintly, bent over one knee, leaned on the sword, it was so hard and it hurt like all Seven Hells, soaking wet, Grey Rains rained Castamere. Fingon enhanced the countless numbers of Wraiths, it was becoming unbelievingly heavy to pass through. Ygritte is covered in blood of Wraiths, Lady too, who fights when the Call is invoked, and Brienne was unfaltering. But seeing, Jaime on knees, turned to her, it was like Bloodmoon’s revenge for no sacrifices and in the Primordial one, she watched how Jaime dies, no…NO!

The history was repeating, Fingon’s ire fueled his charms, whiles in Maedhros, the injury already healed, taking his cut off hand into one of his dents of the armor, it can be sewed back, never like this, it was, but this man’s head he will bring to Valinor on a pike! Jaime mouthed silently. Take care of House Lannister, he closes his eyes, Oberyn feels it, wait, they have to hurry, out, Lord Martell rose armies of both his and that of the saved, the biting blade fell. Brienne fainted, people picked her up.
They had to fall back, to retreat, storming through, a thud of reeling death touched Rhaenyra who was to witness…but never did, and that was the shock. Jon was coated in his own blood, he gashed some of his parts, sliced them so he could pass and then took both the scathing edge into his guts and halted the decapitation. Jaime eyed him up…he is alive and above is Jon Snow who held out, persisting in the face of Death and against one of 7 Sons.

Maedhros got speechless. How did he…? He now knows how…Jon had to sacrifice something and he did…by cutting both of his elven ears, earless, he stood against the Gods and the Bloodmoon drew back its claws. The Cost was paid, Jon himself was dying all over again, whilst Jaime stays in his stupor, having nothing to say. For this was the Rise of the King in the North, he saw it, the drums and bells, so this was it. It was signaling his Coming and the clouds together with the rain were passing by, the clearance of the sky-scraped horizons were beautifying the world. Rainbow was back, feels alike it was Paradise that was anointing the King who took the Last Stand for his all people of kin or not, doesn’t matter. Lannister passed the test and that is what allowed him not only to survive, but redeeming, reclaiming what was their honor. Jaime tried to stand, to take up the sword anew and assist his King, but Jon only gazed deeply, so darkly in the irises of one who had NO REMORSE, no empathy, who was inhuman, for he was Northerner too.

- Join Brienne and run with all the rest. That is my order, if it must be final, my last. I broke the Barrier, the blue lightning which tore the skylines was mine and Wraiths will maybe follow, but can’t catch up. Go, go…Go to Oberyn! Fingon has no POWER IN HERE. For It is Faceless…- he becomes grayish in his face, no more fairness or emblazoned he is, instead, agony ruled – Formless – every word was Power which Maedhros couldn’t resist – and Nameless! – the shredding voice ripped his pain. – I am not leaving you. I told you…to the end and blood! – and it be so, Jaime in his finishing touch, plunged his iron edge into Maedhros, wounding him earnestly, without success of the death blow, for the Beast of all Beasts from Feanorian lines only wailed, retreating back from those two. Jaime, even if he was mortally injured, grabbed the falling Jon, cradling him in his arms, both were finished. Maedhros was spitting to the Brood.

- I couldn’t break your minds, no one to read! – for this, Jon had to question, barely…while this idiot of the lion defies just as She – Elf, damn, no one listens to him any longer. – You defy your father. What for? Why do you need Sam of ours?! – I know he is not dead, you can’t feign it and why? The easterly Muse’s blood makes the excellent ingredient to the weaponry and for the arriving End of Days, against the Hordes and Legions, his death would contribute…confer to the victory and you took it from us! You idiot! Just like our father!

- At least, that is in common, not just the looks of what I hear, because he always knew it. His ears served him right with eavesdropping like all the time, because they are elven, even as a baby boy, I noticed he is nothing like us and in the Whispering Woods of the East, he found his purpose! Now, he knows it all! Better than us! – Jaime spoke instead of Jon, trying to tend to his hurts which were harming even his soul. He did it for him. Kissing Snow unto his sweating forehead, kneeling for him. Not to anybody else, he is his King like no one else, for one he never regretted keeping his Doors safe, it was an Honor he would do all over in these ending moments.

Both Fingon and Maedhros recovered, invigorated because of the Magic of the East, and no some East, but of the Far, except for Jon and Jaime who waited for the End to come. Tauriel and Haldir with the heaviest feeling of their heartfelt hopelessness, jointly with Ygritte and Lord Bolton took the wounded, tantalized and unscathed alive people, guiding away. Leaving both Jon and Jaime alone, behind, if they avail even them, then, all is lost. Elves are feeling an advent of Oberyn Martell, and if that thing of human being, comes upon them, befalls their heads, they aren’t leaving these easterly Whispering Woods breathing, yet, they still had time to claim both heads, grey clouds flew away, precious and treasured. In finals, a stone egg hatched.
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Jon and Jaime were out of their minds. Jon voiced it through the sound of silence...DRACARYS! Horns blared by the trumpets of colored Northerners.
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Northwind and its song of the North dignified ennobled deeds in the eastward, leading away into it from Jon’s black egg, brought to light is a new life.
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The way it was done…impelled even the Ainur to smile down upon what they tasted. The way you looked at each other, no one ever will. Two halves become one, as complete unity. What you feel, I feel manifold. Comrades in arms. Arrayed in our customs and under the Life.
*
Bound to be and it is to see how it is about to come, to the front of Warrior Kings and Queens.

Chapter 104: Making the most of Odds

Chapter Text

Lady was too weak to heal, have to reach Oberyn’s Citadel before Wraiths are upon them for recuperation and everything that entails, while their thoughts stayed with the two most cherished people they left behind, the ones who sacrificed everything for their kinfolk as much as they did likewise. Appalled, distraught and aghast by happenings…what will happen to them, with everything now?!

Little did they know, because as little might be thought, it was lived through, in them. Even if small or shorter, the Dark Dragon grew up, transformed just for a moment of survival before it is downsized for a pocket and his size and his Dragonfires reached heavens from which there was no defense. It was the day when the sky rained Fire! It was both majestic and unbelievable. People along with all other lives, stalled in their place, keeping their heads up which they rose high.

What was this? Have Targaryens returned? Whose dragon…no…it was, JON SNOW’S! Ancalagon the Black! His snake like body of the Black Wyrm was the slender lizard of the amphibian characteristics, which meant, even if he falls into the water, he would be able to swim. People lost their breaths which were hitched in their throats, sealing the stares are unto the madness of the high-rise horizon’s lines, their eyes are upon the magnificence that was raging across the Seven Hills and all of Seven Seas, this was the power of birth of another! The House of the Dragon was shaken to the grounds, they heard it and knew…Jon Snow is the fully fledged Dragon.

The real one. One of them who sided with the humanity. Ancalagon the Black hadn’t reached his full potentials, this was just the beginning. Syrax was instigated from the numbness they felt. It was the marvelous miracle which Rhaenyra watched. Black is really the most suitable color and Jon’s Dragon was the manifestation of his utter raw Force and the Power he hides NO MORE. It was unbound! Everyone to see, hear and feel. One Ring was alerted, went wild in its sleep and Celebrimbor knew, he had to do something about it. That one Dragon could jeopardize everything what he built over centuries. Even Gods fall against Dragons, let alone this one.

Ygritte and Lady howled along all others, darker, deeper and longer, waking Mother Nature’s ability to cure, the Magic of the East, of the Far intensified the experiences of the unexplained, for there were animals which moved away, some ran and the other stayed to be witnesses to the Might of King in the North. Glorfindel sensed it, looking up, the sky was redder on the other side. His companions looked up and Ramsay Bolton concluded, this was the Birth of the Dragon.
The crests of the longest tail ever seen and titanic bat wings were apparent alongside with the Horns of the Black, enwrapping the beautifully bejeweled horizons beside the emerald soil which stood out against the massiveness of the hull. And without any strain, after all he was through, Hellfiers with no dimensional portals poured from all sides unto Feanorians who fought valiantly, but ultimately, they were losing.

There was no escape from him. Fingon drew one more time from his inner torments and from yet inexperienced Dark Dragon, managed to manipulate the black matter next to the energy, teleporting Maedhros and himself from the same spot that was brutally to the bloody pulp, annihilated to the cores, in where desolation couldn’t reach the frost and neither the deepest of the marrow roots.

Jaime who is in a much worse state is dying, Jon felt he was fading from his grasp, because Jon’s ears are back, human ones and his spirit healed him on his own, but Jaime…all in all, was the true human being who battled his battles beyond his boundaries.

Jon collected him in his cradling arms, wet and hurt, on his feet, he approached Ancalagon who stopped his blowing of the flaming blazes, setting all aflame, all the while the consequences for the East were next to none because the dwindling destruction in the eyes of the beholder initiated the remedying of what was destroyed, simply because Ancalagon, perhaps, conjured all what he has got at the time, but he also is aware that his Hellfires have control and he has over them, which means once it is put into service, Mother Nature heals herself, unneeded was the complementing elven power.

- You are the Elven Power, my son – Jon was easily falling in love for good, no pulling back anymore, like every proud parent, this one came out of his personal entrails and Ancalagon, seeing his Master for the first time, went from the Juggernaut, the Force of the Mother Nature, the mightiness you do not reckon with to the childlike disposition that wanted to snuggle and it did. Jon almost felt that Ancalagon wants to get into his lap, but he was just…sorry, baby boy, you are too big, Jon thought and like a little marvel, the Black was…minimized to his cute baby form, his almond eyes alike beads were blinking at his Father.

- Papa? – Jon stumbles for a bit, for when he was a monumental Giant, he didn’t fear and now, he steps back?! Oddity. Just due to feels, for being called Dad.

- Yes, please…you must get back to your primary size and…after my pockets are yours to burrow in! Please…I have… - the small one understood, crawling against his leg, to peek at Jaime’s heavy breathing, oh, nice looking human, even the little one had eyes, it seems.
- All right, Papa. Here I am! – he blinks at him, just for Ancalagon the Black to be back, and Jon, taking the great pride in his Dragon, proudly pats his baby gently, not only because he deserved, it was unconditional love, and if Ancalagon was a cat, he would purr overtly, permitting for his Jon to place his human on him, they had to quicken their pace, his Pack is still in the grave danger. – Would you be able to mount me, Papa? – it was unbelievingly sweet and cute at the same time, because from the sheer baby talk to the thunder in the voice, Jon was perplexed. Feeling like all parents who had got their prize in their hands for which they waited for long.

Jon winked, the natural instincts kicked in. Bestriding his Dragon while safely Jaime was nestled in the swooned position in his firm hold. Feeling what every Dragon would in this moment, but he restrained himself, until the danger doesn’t pass. Because Jaime was in the earnest need of the medical attention, he won’t lose him. And the Dragon flew up. Jon got exhilarated, thrilled out of every imagination. It was unreal, surreal and just his. Flying over the exalted atmospheric horizontal lines, he swooshed down, quickening the tempo that was by each thin but sturdy wing, propelled higher and faster. Jaime overslept it, his wounds were severe, Jon got troubled because of him. He never looked this bad. And, where were they?! They were swift!

- Ancalagon. – Papa?! – thunderously he queried. – Find them for me, what is mine. They aren’t for nothing my Pack! – Yes, My Sire! – at that instant, whooshing all the way up above, Jon was speaking. – He can be treated but he needs antibiotics, are you also able to inspect the Citadel, by your scent, it isn’t far from here, I can see their Towers how they loom over us and across the brimming landscapes. – I am. Let me smell, Sir.

After the first initial failure, he caught up. Yes! It wasn’t necessary to search for it too! Good! He will be fine, but Jaime…hold on. I come for you all! Just wait for me. The Wraiths still tracked and hunted, his Northerners, including both Elves as both guidance and counsel who were following Bolton’s lead. It is always like this. Whenever it is the thickest, he pushed through. He is going to take care of them earnestly. Jon was great.

Their King is coming for them and Jaime is with him. This is the least they were in need to cling to, while he hears words from Whispering Woods that the Citadel uncovered itself. Revealed. It only referred to one thing. Martell’s Host was coming to their rescue! From one side was Jon Snow, on the other, Oberyn.

Who will be the First to get them? Whoever is inlayed with blood, will be cleansed and greatly taken care of. Masterly and lordly are knowingly ghouls.

Jaime was licked by Ancalagon who twisted his reptilian neck, so that he could lessen his pain, but the time was trickling like the sand in the glassy vial, from the touch of the comfort, he squirms in his sleep, resembling the moving. Jon brushed the strands of his golden wisps, stroking tormented fairness, for everything is going to be all right. He breathes, that is all what mattered, instinctively, urging Jaime to survive, for the unborn in her womb, a family of friends and kindred. For maybe there are numerable Gods, demi or full, Angels or Ainur, demons or shadows but just one is supreme Allfather of all in constrast to the Devil Incarnate.
*
As long as our heart holds out…choking in the blood we won’t.
Brienne is on Lady, carried away. Who would have ever thought that she would become my Bride. My Eyes see only you, the small light that shines into darkness, because of you, I live.

Chapter 105: I have been seen…for what…I am

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What I feel for the parents who raised me, so I feel the same for birth ones, but I have my pledge to Lady Mother, I will return both her daughter and “man” to her of whom Jaime had the paper of “siege” saved altogether with…tampons. Afterwards, brimful would be life. Later on as it should. Meantime, Brienne woke up, just about to see how the black snow has started to fall in the Spring, looking all around, the Wraiths had them encircled. Lord Bolton stood in front of them with braced Elves and their arrows, all the Northerners, brought up their weapons and were prepared to either shoot or fight to their last breath. Ygritte yowled, she is going to take them down all, even though that was improbable. She was but one who makes all the difference, but it wasn’t sufficient and Lady has to recover herself first, her duty was to Brienne who stood her ground on her two feet. People allowed her, no one tells Dame of Tarth what she does. Standing by Lord Bolton’s quiet side. She drew her sword out, thinking about her Jaime, filling by tears.

- He is going to survive, Brienne…you should… - No. If this is how far we are to make it, then…I want to do it. – You are with child – turns to Bolton. – And since when the f*ck did you ever care about anything but yourself and your House? – Hm, since the day…I met Jon Snow – he gazes at her, silent – My belief was that the world we live in is permanent, but today I do not fight for my selfishness. As long as I remember, I always had in mind what I left, all behind, but now, I fight for what I have gained and that is something what no one can take from me. I have changed, Brienne, I am not the man I used to be, with false opinions. My views of the Life are changing as well. You are the one who fears the change and you stay the same as you were. Jon…does that to people and you should have trust in our King even when nothing seems right. Because, blessed are the ones who believed and didn’t see, yet, they had eyes for the otherworld – he winks at her, encouraging her spirit that was thrown into the pitiless bottoms.

- What if he is gone? – Just because someone is dead, does it mean that the oath you have given…means nothing to you anymore? What are you?! Who?! Matters not…you are the Oathkeeper, and keep your word to Jaime and live. You haven’t given it to him in the past life, now, I think, you should either stand back or believe without seeing, but if you lead this battle, knowing you will die, then…you have no faith in the end, and you never had – this opened her eyes more than anything, how just one man, can be the change, if not for the Life, than for her. For to her being, it was Bolton. Irony of the whole living. And she unyieldingly held her line, putting her life as always, usual she did, in danger, yet this time, she is sure. Aid will come, because it doesn’t matter what kind of Force is before her, but what kind of holiness she protects…behind her.

- Don’t stand down. Hold your lines out! – Bolton prepares them. Tauriel and Haldir, both utilized charming into weapons, their conjuration was mighty, when one arrow is fired, it can take down a lot of the enemy, instead of letting it out, this eastern magic is used from the inside out, it is very much more effective than just wasting it on the open space.

The arrows coated in venom are strained, blades of all types are bracing for the onslaught and one word is all they required to hear while Rhaenyra stayed together with Syrax, by Lady’s side. The North had what to defend, even so, this onset…will be their final, the finishing and ending stakes. The Wraiths, the ghouls of Flesh Eaters, pounced on them, but, their defense is unexpectedly consolidated by the Rain of Lances! Arrows and darts alike. It was akin to the cover over their heads, Bolton turns around and what he saw were the seas, bristling with the hundreds of thousands warriors. Estimating the clamoring chanting and the invocation from all Seven Heavens, it was the sight you live to see just for one lifetime, not more. The Host of Oberyn Martell!

On his tallest stallion, Oberyn marches together with the people of the Citadel, including even their own Great Elephants, estimation is one million men.

- Let them know it, let the trumpets and horns sing and play! Our colors to be seen and the drums to be heard! We are here! Southeastern Citadel!

All of one million, each soul and every heart was imbued with the spirit of their Prince and without any fear, they were stomping upon Wraiths who had no way to fend for themselves or stave off such the Forces of House Martell. It looked, like Oberyn was adamant and bent, so much resolved to be for everyone when they most needed him and here he was. The clash of Wraiths and his army was of the bloodshed and ultimate bravery, no one fought like them on that day, under the leaves of the Whispering Woods of the East, poison and serpents were their advantage.

Because he commanded for them to be rained upon the Wraiths who got bitten by all sorts of red vipers. This is how it stings when you are bitten by just one of House Martell. Citadel never fell, not even once during Oberyn’s reign and it will not even after his rule. There is a rumor, how the Citadel in the East still exists, and it was all thanks to the people who would later be deemed as the greatest. Northmen, injured and weary could only stand and watch, while Ygritte still joined in, for it was in her blood of Direwolf and among the Great Serpents she HOWLED and Jon hears her, there, no more need for a scent, she let it all out, so loudly that even the dead from their graves were born ready to get out from their black earth. Oberyn leapt and with his own body as the shield, he is preventing Wraiths from each life.

Yelling at the remaining Pack of Jon Snow, that counted about 300 and so, to run, they will cover them, the Gates of the Citadel are open! Lord Hand incited his kin, for this is what they became to him after such a short time, even those of elven blood fall for the connections which Northerners are sharing among, to follow Lord Bolton and Lady Elf who knew these lands better than any Silvan, not just like a back of her palm, for this is inborn in her and they went after their Guide and Bolton as ordained. Still, Lord took notice that it was even hard for Martell to withstand, until at one instant, the black snow has stalled and they…knew it, looking up, even Oberyn, for such was the covering shadow of Jon Snow who swept across the scenic scenery, the delightful panorama and the ambient terrains that were luscious with the green and brilliant emerald.

- DRACARYS! – and Oberyn by the side of everyone else, stays in the utter shock. One of the biggest and darkest Dragons ever to live, and he was blowing Dragonfires so easily, whose blazing flames and the inflamed blazes struck harder and higher than of anyone’s he has ever known, annihilating the entire Host of Wraiths in the single blast of the firing that was blown, he smiles to himself. Ned had a right. He was the Dragon.

Yet, the Wolf still lives in him because the ferocity of how he was smiting and slaying his enemies could be only that of the Wolfhound. Oberyn orders.

- Fall back! Fall Back! Forces of the Great and ancient House! Legions of the Saved who asked for Refuge and the Northmen. Go to the Citadel!

Leaving Jon to take care of the rest. Brienne hopefully was watching, observing and noticing that Jaime was with Jon who caught sight of her staring and winked back at her, reassuring her, leaning in the protective manner over Jaime’s body when he was, anon, sweeping across innumerous Wraiths, securing his position of the Top Dog. For he was Main in here, currently. Not self-centered ambitions of Dark Lord. Sending a message HE shall receive.

- Ancalagon the Black, harken my words, heed me, you are just as I am, mutated or evolved, deepened by experiences and reinforced by the Will, enhanced and heightened are our possibilities, the subspecies who are esteemed by the high favors, but never forget from where you came, how you started and with whom you shared the first bread when you were in me. You are still just as worthy as everyone else in this world. Grasp it!

Not a single life is less worthier, for he is returning with human ears. This is what even Bolton noticed. Jon, what you had to sacrifice to stand above, and still stay both highly and greatly grounded. People rose their gazes, black snow has been thawed.
Dracarys on Wraiths was diminishing their every effort and each try to lay their clutches on what is Jon’s. Simply telling, he is unstoppable. Perhaps, mastered Power, but Power has no control over him.

- I feel this is just the start of something new. – Bolton quicken it, make your haste! – Here I am, Brienne, but you know, I am so excited about it all.

She never had an opportunity to see this side of Roose, that was for sure, leading Mimicry, Jon’s noble horse with them. The reactions about everything and for the wonders they are experiencing in awe, coerced even Oberyn to rethink some of the choices, seeing for himself, by his own eyesight, that the sacrifices were laid, and Jon was never as hellbent as he was at this moment, the appearances in the visage or the change of blood, didn’t change him, this is what he always wanted, what he prayed to Prime God. Challenging him, daring to question him. Shower on me the Power of Gods, and then I will let you see where are my bounds. I have none. All the rest beheld that too.

He had none. This is why he was the mightiest of them all. He had every reason to be exalted, yet, he was humbled. He had all the Realms in his palm, he thought against it, because once his sights are to be compromised, this is the Day of Jon’s Downfall. And yet, in the middle of chaos, One Ring responded the best. You are just One Man, Jon Snow, and what one man can do to resist such Power. You are to become wooed. He hears it, shaking the ill thoughts from his mind. One Ring. Jon was sensitive of it. Feeling it has caught up to him. So, it had begun, the grandest that shall await. He went far, he won’t back down never. Great Gates closed and back it is to cloaking.

Open Great Gates of the Citadel, and so it be…never regretting we came with our King. Melted are all defenses. We are presently, safe and sound. All. From the oldest to the youngest. And one the last surviving of the eldest who was both the Giant and Titan in his own prime, Lord Roose Bolton, has lived long enough to see the change in people, who are acknowledging someone else’s conviction and the faith that Stark doesn’t need to rule the North, but the one who proves himself or herself, deserving of that name, shall be King or Queen. Rhaenyra, his godchild, already showed the attributes which will earn her all the Wall.
Claiming what life offers, because even the tiniest light of old shines brightest in the blackest of the nights, there is no star that can glow without the darkness. Taste our devouring waters, eat from our raw flesh, but you never claim our chains of silver to keep and harness at bounds.

Chapter 106: All for you, I was born to guard Kings and love you!

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Wildfires. The Flames of Jon Snow’s Dragon were green. All what he remembers afterwards is how wide Mouths opened and that was the end of what he recalls. He is sleeping even in his dreams. One of the figures, transparent at first appears, and then the shadow grew smaller and in front of him was Tyrion Lannister, just like he is remembered, not in the new frame he was given, which firstly shocked him, but after being filled with the knowledge of the Past, he could look into the future, to glimpse where should have been the sight, but there was a lot more that he can handle. Let the Life flow and only then, the events are unraveled one by one, unfolding what was deeply hidden while darkly it feels as the abandonment of everything what he was.

- You come into my dreams, you just sneak in, quite often, you practiced this power of yours too? Foolish question, of course you are, as soon as you find out that we are the Sailors of Dreams. For the first time as the woman I glanced at you, this is how you appeared to me in your new life, now again as you are… - Only in dreams. Big Brother. – Baby brother… - Oh, I remained the baby then, don’t you think? – Tyrion, please, tell me what is going to happen next. – And to spoil a surprise? – What?! – You see, this is about Dreams and People…we always seek to know, but what good it will do to you. Just stay the way you are and…

- You don’t understand how stressed I am, all this pressure, my time as the mortal is wasted away while I am in the Far East. Don’t get me wrong, but there are things which I should have done or do… - And yet, you are in most rightest place, at the time which is no righter than it is now. You only think you should be doing something else, but you are just where you are supposed to be, leading what is yours to lead, no matter what others think that they would want of you. You are you and you are just as good as you are. – Yet, when it will stop? – What?! What to stop, this is just your beginning, beginnings if you prefer it better. The Past Life was mine and Cersei’s, it was all about us, but this one is yours. So, all I can see is that the mightiest and strongest, left us, the ones who were predicted for the perfection BY Life, and…where are they, at our present? So, I ask you, why would you indulge into the same mysteries when you have already answered the call which will bring you so much misunderstanding and ailing anguish, but it will all pay off in the end, and then, all those who wronged your lifestyle, will be the ones who will copy you. Sir Jaime Lannister. I say, who gives them a f*ck. All their lives they knew about everything and when they see for selves that their paths failed, they still are manipulating the best they could of what they conducted in all their power and by their abilities to contribute to their harm, and yes, I speak precisely about our Father. The grandest, and see where he ended and how…
- I have…been shown and…known…

- You were all the time, pressured because you are called the stupidest of Lannisters, but I tell you right at this hour, that this is exactly what MADE YOUR SURVIVE. Not the brains, not the intellect, but just being yourself. Nowadays, it is like you are talking to the Wall. Hm, how many times I have managed to sneak out, I am a small shadow, who will sight me, who will take notice when one of such draws near and has a talk to the Wall? No one. Still, it brought me where I am. – Tyrion, I am fearing for my family, all of this is too much for me. I hold all the House and our lives on my burdened backs, and shoulder far too much than I can take. It is heavier than any Life and I don’t know where I am to go after this. – Well, just live. It is now time to wake up. We all love you. And remember as the North does. Elves do not forget, for you never reclaim what they took nor they do not give back what is the most precious and this is what I am going to reveal to you. Jaime Lannister, you are the late bloomer, the flower that is budding from stone and once you do, it will become one of not the most beautiful blossoms, yet the very one that captivates everyone around. You are just a mortal, your time on Earth is limited, but you are the mightier than you think, if not, one of the most powerful and skilled swordsmen who ever were reborn. You can do it.

What is he able?! The dream was waking him up. What did this all mean?! Live like every day is your last, and you shall see, words of his brother are glistening and he is brought back to the consciousness, to the wakefulness. Foremost, it was that much outlandish for him, because it was Paradise in where Water Gardens prospered and it feels as another world, as the Last Eden in the East, far from anything he had known, sunbathed and glamorous.

- Is your eyesight coming back to you? – it has been still blurred, it felt like he will never see properly anymore, but he did so, seeing Brienne, his wife how watches over him, in the sunny bed, by the glorious sunrise as he had never beheld. – You know… my dearest one – stroking softly his unshaved face which needs to be taken care of, feeling unexplained thrills – why good things come to those who wait? – Brienne – he kisses the inside of her palm, surprising her so… - Would you say Lord’s prayer for me. I want to remember it.

- Why? What is it? Did you… - We all have dreams and I am a Dreamer of humans…so…what it he King, when we all want to be Dreamers, free to explore, not one Throne of the Realms, but each one, for the Universe is as vast as our imagination which has no limits, we limit ourselves, that is why we stay the same in our sins, primordial or not, we have no virtues but those who we gain during living and so… please…tell me Lord’s prayer. – We are safe, Jaime, you have nothing to… - she gets closer, he breaks.

- I have every why to feel the way I do, because what the Lord asks of me, is stronger than I am… - Shhh…all right…I will say it. Repeat after me, slow. Though, forsake not, no one is stronger than you! You guarded our King to the End. You are a truthful Kingsguard who honor your duty to the fullness. Once Guard, you stay one. Carried out to the perfection, realizing that you were born for it. Still…I am going to fulfill your due.

- Yes, slow…, please, thank you - while she is wiping his fallen tears. – Our Father, who art in Heaven – he repeats, firstly very awkwardly, but it flew after all – hallowed by thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven, give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. – I believe…I will be in need for it, in the darkest of my days. Brienne. I am chosen for something, or…I chose it? – What is the difference? – she lovingly smiles at him, forevermore she was a warrior, with Jaime, she is a woman, cupping his bristled image, kissing him with all the passions of her soul, his spirit is enlivened, returning all love he cultivated for her, claiming her virginity, he will be the only man she will ever know, oh, God, you are gracing me with the purity I hadn’t… I just didn’t deserve, who knows why you are indulging me so. Whatever is to come to pass from this day forth.

- I want to take you. – I am with child. Our baby. - I don’t care. I want to own. Undress yourself or I will strip these garments off you and just…VIOLATE YOU. Ravish you passionately, ardently. With all the fire in me, and you are going to beg me for more, to cry my name! Do it! Yield to me! Brienne of Tarth, just like you did the first time – she is aroused.

Granting him to do with her whatever he called for. All the recuperated strength is back and he took one of her breasts into his mouth, milking her, even biting a bit, she cries out, permitting him do to her what he prefers, do to with her kindled being however he pleases. He was her lion, whiles running gentle fingers through his golden mane. He stripped her, both were bare like from mothers born. Entering her. He can’t hurt the baby, but he can break her, oh, Dear Lord, he was big, he was God, give me, give me…oh, yes…push, push, his thrusts were unbridled by the fiery passion that wasn’t normal, it was of the lion, immortal.

Caressing, nipping at her, fondling. She was being claimed like she never assumed that she could. Oh, Jaime, she straddled him, about to come, solely for him, to him, in his insides, but the sole meaning was that the Lone Lion will have nothing of it, turning her in the spacious bed, he was rocking all over again. Purposely, he wasn’t allowing her to finish, forcing her to cry his name, over and over, until it becomes all of her reality. Jaime…Jaime!
Her head nearly hit on the headboard, fortunately, it was the soft wood, and she missed because he supported her head with his one hand, whilst with another, he was inside her deep. Feels him in the very throat. She screamed vigorously and the Lions who came before were glad.
My woman and wife is my blood right I demand. Now, when our King sleeps when he wants and needs, daydream in sleepwalking. Moonwalkers lurk.
I enjoy you so as a purebred and full - blooded man. Of elder times, of yore. Of the olden universes in where the plains and fields dominates the reality.

How did we live with ourselves after Wildfires?

The King he was on Carven Throne,
In many pillared halls of Stone,
With golden roof and silver floor,
And runes of power upon the Door,
He shone evermore, fair and bright till the Fall.

I was just the Noble Knight of Kingsguard, my Queen. To me, it isn’t just bedding, laying with you or mating. I was making love to you, loving you so.

With all my passionate Love I grew for you.
Oh, My …Lion…Wildflowers…

Chapter 107: Mimicry, no thrall

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Of gold and silver. Shaped or re-carven. Designed of stars and space. I am a human with the Dragonheart, not an Elf with the human one. As someone we know so well, that myths and legend aren’t sufficient to fill all the pages. Giving all of self to the cause, pulled the desire is into me. Shadows are looming over the moments when you the least expect, when you are happy and satisfied, that is when the evil strikes. Despite the perils, one little girl was slyly passing by the Marble Pillars and the across the glassy floor while Lord Oberyn was reacting, pretty much, as his usual self while he tried to put some sense into the carpenters. Where were their minds when he was explaining that Northmen are taller and broader than them. Even their women!

- I told you, to measure people’s measures which I gave you, not our beds! You copied what is to be freshly carved! Now their heads will hit upon the bloody headboards! – We are so sorry, we apologize. We thought you said that we need to weigh it all down, at least, for the feathers hold on to the mass, not the other way around. – What?! You got it all wrong. Oh, I am occupied by idiots! Go…go… and refashion what you fashioned! Oh…I have got a headache. I wish I was an Elf, then, at least, I shouldn’t suffer like this! – Rhaenyra giggles at the highly irked Martell, successfully going past the Eastern Guards, forcing herself onto the East Doors, barging into the kingly room with the regal bedchambers in where she found the lovebirds who shrouded themselves fast, vexed, making her to close the Doors all the while the big grin is spiriting and so very much lightening her overall mood.

Plastered all over the sensual ambience, Syrax peeked out from her little pocket with its tiny pearly eyes.

- You had sex, afresh! I am so rejoiced!

- Next time, knock! – Jaime was out of his wits beside Brienne who wished to dig her personal grave and just lay in it, instantly, dents are felt when she climbed upon their king’s bed with her baby who crawled by her side, together, both were glad and the two of them were truly a sight to be delighted in.

In fact, it was her childlike perception and perceptive insightfulness who made her understand, a blessing that Rhaenyra neither Syrax didn’t feel envious of Jon’s growing power and that his Dragon in one day managed what will take some time for the two because their road was different from theirs, but even more they were idolized and taking pleasures in what is theirs to bask and rejoice in, fair and bright, till Time is ripe.

- Rhaenyra, dear daughter, come here, snuggle with your Dad, that’s it, my happiness – Jaime placed her thrilled self anyway to rest between their naked bodies, in the warmness and cozy snugness, it was the homely feeling even for the petty Syrax who loved the feel. Even so, to Brienne, it was very much…still…awkward to taste it. Lannisters are differing from everything that was familiar to her.

- So, tell your Father, speak to both of us, what had you found out? – You sent your own daughter to spy for you?! – Of course, welcome to the family! – Brienne is showered all over again, or better to say, they were all over her until she hadn’t submitted herself. – Fine, fine…just tell us, why and for what your father sent you to eavesdrop or do you first dirty and hard work as the Master of Whispers! – Oh, don’t be like that, Brienne, come to me, I want to kiss you…hey, don’t compel me to come for you, give me your mouth! Stop…resisting me!

- I have a desire to hear out what your daughter is to voice! – First, morning kiss or I am seizing you in front of her!

Damn, Lannister! She screamed his name like it was the last night on the Earth, the good one, oh he was good, knew it, and is salivating, marking more.

- Stop it! I want to hear it! Listen to her! – by watching them, both Rhaenyra and her kindred soul, making up as one, Syrax, couldn’t stop grinning brightly because her father sighed in exasperation. – Fine…but after it is conveyed. You are mine anew! Rhaenyra shall entertain herself and Syrax independently. – All right and now…please…speak to us.

- Here it goes like this – she rose up and with both imitation and descriptive depictions covered what was happening in the meantime. – His Dragon fits into the pockets too, this is something among all other things, what everybody found cute, he is smaller than my Syrax, runt, even though well fed and cared for, little alien, this is how they call him – she snigg*rs along with the chuckles which came from them both, they were really just a family, enjoying their time together, and this time, they had it for themselves, alone – and no worries, people and everything else is taken care of. Albeit, there were the sneering troubles which were hovering over beauty of ruddy skylines – this is where her emulation reached the pinnacle and both parents couldn’t but as the proudest keepers of their oaths outright smile beamingly at their jointed families. – The First goes. Oberyn Martell, the Lord of the Citadel in the East, like this: - I order and at my behest, Elves and Dragons to my dungeons, then goes…Jon Snow (she deepens her voice, it was hilarious all together with the hoarseness he expresses):

- I am an Elf also. If you have a problem with either of us, you have with us all! Take it or we leave! And then, oh, don’t despair, I am going to repeat it, I leave it for the end, first this! – the two were completely charmed by her florid interpretations. - Came Lady Tauriel and Lord Hand who had got the showdown, Martell vs Elves. And guess what. He issued his charm and arousal on them! He got knocked down by Jon Snow! Score! – all four of them burst like crazy to laugh, grasping their stomachs, not all of embowels to fall out. Oh Eru! Save us…

Even as the guests, they have troubles with the Hosts! And, her mimicking of Jon Snow was superb, nailed and hit home. Impacted, left the impression!

- And…- when Jaime first recollected himself, questioned – where is our Host now? – He is cooling his balls, like this (she demonstrates), it burns him much, because that blow was low! – Brienne was about to die from laughing, is it even humanly possible to laugh this much and just glancing a look at Jaime, forced her to surrender all of her defenses. This wasn’t right at all. It was wrongful all over again, for all the unjust reasons, and yet, she just enjoyed herself with them, and they savored her. What came next, was even more laughable because it was just Jon Snow and Oberyn Martell getting acquainted themselves with one another, that was all. – Let me shake your hand and meet you properly, leaving behind all of our misunderstandings and differences! Put aside the bad blood and discord! – I couldn’t agree more, I accede with your reason…which starts…now – and this forwarded into the delirium. This was too much! Yes, that was Jon Snow vs Oberyn Martell, nothing is easy!

All in all, he was a generous man, that fellow Martell. They came in here invited, wearied, broken and hunted. The Common Host, nobly masked, revitalized their Pack and for that, they can’t ever return the favor or thank more. It was inhumanly implausible. In the wholly anomaly, entire phenomenon and absolute grief that goes along the agony, they deserved the rest and relief from the constant reality or real life that was gnawing at their bones, just to see if the marrows had more flesh to offer from already equally tantalized and in the agonizing ache, mortified Northerners.

However, these were the Easterners’ terrains which are offering something quite distinguished. What relieved them all was the certainty that even their companions were doing great and that his House is now theirs as well, and the other way around until there is the Space and Time. To eat, drink and heal at his home, under his household, regaining their strengths alongside the frailty too, whiles getting better. Due to the vulnerability that brought them so far even with the strong senses of the meaning.
Welcomed they were together with their friendly given loyal companions and Mimicry, Jon’s horse shall serve him more than good. It is becoming obvious that it was such a fine idea to bring even steeds that are dignifying nobility and the needs.
The Wolf changes its coat, the temper never. Never to cease to surprise as the Law of Surprise that was as old as Time itself, everything revolved over the simple factuality, silvering of Rhaenyra into the dead of the night, throughout livened hallways, cloaked her as if clandestine messengers of Citadel.
Gateways which worship Wolves as the most treasured. Perchance, I am the Dragon, but I stay Stark. I was always Stark, for we do remember, forever.
Despite what we had to do to survive, for survival, what comes to us and call to our minds to think or look back on is nothing but fear we face together.
*
In essence, above all, had I known nor I scorned.

Chapter 108: Lost Kingdom

Chapter Text

Far East and its Magic. Magic of the East. Glorfindel was mistaken when he thought that the twin ring of light (Jon’s) would be empowered. Its power is dwindling and soon…Sansa will be left without every protection for which he must repent his all sins. How could he be so stupid and leave it to the Gods, it is unbeknown to him. How is it even possible that One Ring is so f*cking POWERFUL! Isn’t there anyone who can stand in its way or fight even Celebrimbor. Who would be that champion?! Jon?! Who knows…he is but one man and he is God Elf, but there must be another who isn’t Azor Ahai. Who will be the one?! We won’t know until all the end of Blood and Fire.

Until then, we carry on. No more tears of the Wall or Heart trees of Godswoods to cry out our lamentations, the black boiling oil, to weep as the warning that approaches, from which you hide until the sorrow is emptied. Not hurting the nature of Mother, and yet, now it wails when it is to be both attacked or failing to defend. A change has come and it was unrestrained. Sometimes, come such times when Heroes are not something of the tales, but our saga we materialize. In the Water Gardens, the breeze was nothing alike from the outside, resembling a lark’s song which was enchanting the beauty of the untouched and well-groomed place which is high with gardens.

- So, how do you like our Water Gardens? King in the North? – the two Kings, one of the Southeastern and the other of the North were strolling the beautified Eden and its Great Falls by which they were passing, Jon was mesmerized. – Ah, I see it in your eyes. They say, once you step in, you have no desire to go out. This domain does that to people. – Still, you are the Third…

- What? – I was thinking while observing – he looked around, before his fairness in the visage wasn’t letting down the age that was slowly coming for him, it wasn’t visible much, but he was growing older which suited him and his very being more than if he remained the full Elf. – About what and what is this with me being the third? You have to explain it to me. – Roose Bolton and Jaime are both from the East, Roose was the Wildling, yes…irony and Jaime’s roots come from Rohan, the eastern borders, he is an immigrant. All of Lannister House. – They are also Andals… - Yes…but the two of them, one by one, come into our lives and they had become our Two Kings… - he turns his head to Oberyn – you are the Third and the Last King of the East. After you, no one will even come close, even though the Citadel will stand tall. – Hm, who knows…the life is complex, but I agree…it is the burden of being the best – his peaco*ck personality was invincible at this point while worshiping the beauty of his kingdom, and it is the very temper that one day might eat him alive. He had no fear. Too much secure in his position and skills he wasn’t hiding ever.

- However, there is more, right, Jon Snow? Tell me that story. I am all ears. – I am not one of your lovers and stop leaning too close unto me. – Ah, it isn’t easy to resist the beauty of the Elf and you are beautiful, and you are also purple – blooded, absolutely stunning and manful man. – I have wife. – So do I, we can trade too, a little bit of switching... - Jon just gave him a Look, which Great Prince recognized better than ever. – Elves do not share. Oberyn Martell. – Like never? – No, we are possessive, territorial and very much protective. It is our issue, not yours. – Ah…I see. And it works…like... it hits you hard? – There is no way to fight my blood. So I let it do whatever it is needful, no use to battle it, whenever I tried, I only worsened situations in which we weren’t brought by our free will.

- And your pride…I mean, down there… are you sufficiently endowed? – Do you wish to know the story or you will continue on? – Bluntly much so, except, I am more interested in pleasures. – And what do you prefer to know? Martell? – All about your pillar and stones…I mean, they must be…like of steel, how do you even walk? – The same way you cooled your balls.

This gladdened Oberyn far too much, for anyone’s good. He liked Jon, like he really grew fond of him for such a short time, he will miss his fellowship!

- You have attained some amazing people in your nobly Pack. I admire that. I revere the guts which are grander than the man and you have those in abundance. – Thank you and who could ever come even close to your Citadel. Damn…this is another world. Congratulations, you outshone everyone around. – You are too kind and decent. But, I still what to know the size of these balls of yours and your penis, is it…like you know, big and sturdy? – Jon went and dropped his breeches to the utter astonishment and shock of Oberyn…

- Oh…well…ah…I see…balls are yummy, they remind me of the bull’s…and that co*ck, oh…it leaves much to the imagination and…how many people you took with these beauties…who was first? – My big brother was first…I always thought it will be one of the baby…anyway, not…much. I am not into boasting about the number of love partners I owned.

- Not much?! Are you sure you don’t want to settle the score, I have a beautiful harem that waits just for you and…I have ripe and young men too, I see that your prefer both. – No, once we have mated and marked, that is it. – You Elves are boring. All this immortality for one woman or man. – We have our code… - Ah, so you acknowledged that side of yourself.

- Thanks to the Silvan Elves, they are the best of the best – at these words, Oberyn smiles back…finally, Jon wasn’t so judging about his own race or the elven kind of all breeds. – Howsoever, there are exceptions… - Now, we are talking… - I am not one of them. – Yes, I could tell. You maybe f*ck as hard as you fight, but you are lame when it comes to the adventures. No offense, but you are no fun. – Why is the loyalty such a problem? – She is safe and sound and tomorrow, you might not see a day and there are no feelings, only the passion, lust and desire in between. Good for high pressure, I see you are stressed and tense, it will relax you, loosened you up a bit... I just can’t fathom that you don’t want even to see them or for them to dance for you, pleasure you… - No. But…my people would be…thankful if you supplied them with the same, of course, who is…willing.

- Done! Always is great doing any business with you – they shook hands, which inspirited Jon because Oberyn was not your kind of the bird you can oppose so lightly. – And is there someone who escaped you? – Yes, the only one. I never got a chance to taste him. – Oh, tell me, who?! This is such a fun now to hear! – Samwell Tarly. – Ah, if he stayed, he will be penetrated. – He gained the luck on his side – this sent both men into the funniest and the most enjoyable, satisfying and delightful moods. – And so…do I hear that story or? – That is not the story, this is…just our lore…or better to say the human one, about the man who took upon himself all the sins and his burden carried to the Holy Mountain, where he was nailed and crucified to the post. This is your Christ figure and they are certain I am his reincarnation.

- If you are not? Jon Snow? – What does it matter as long as they believe?! I never exploited their myths. – You did…in the beginning. – I am not that person any longer. – You brought them on this sacred crusade of yours, Jon…many did lose their freedom to the Elves and laid their lives. – You think I am not punished, that I am not feeling… - I haven’t assailed…just don’t rile up whenever I speak the truth – the looks are stern this time and Oberyn never made any move that would indicate differently, he was as cunning as nonchalantly he behaved. His demeanor was such that Jon envied, how can he practice such a calm disposition? – Temper is still quick, but the mind slow. The Wolf in you survived. Good. You are more Ned Stark than you will ever be, if this is what was your ambition of which anyone desired to reach. – You met…my Father? – Yes, who didn’t know him, that is the better question. I am just on the road who takes in what he sees.

- How is it even probable to be that simply? – It isn’t. And that is my secret, Jon Snow – their glances are locked – whoever throws that stone at you, just keep going, people are hateful of all kinds toward those who think with their own brains. And that is empowering to both men and women…- silence follows – and, thank you for a story.
He wasn’t easy to read, as a matter of fact, he hadn’t read anything from Oberyn, he was the man who played chess with the Death for so long, he forgot how it ever looked to be the part of the human world. This was the King in the East in all his entitlement, lordship or self – proclamation and he deserved each of it because it was earned alone and solely for the survival, here and there he allows himself to fall and lower down his guard, it was all.

- I was correct, as much as my father was the Last human King in the North, you will be the Last in the East and someone of the similar caliber that won’t be…full human will take over and…you will be glad. – It is too much of a pressure, the weight that is shouldered by a simple human, it is why I had to transcend what I never was, yet, I am today as you are. – So, pleasures are just for the relaxation? – Oberyn winks. – Good for blood as well – making Jon smile. – And so…I give you our armors, coins, blessings, we are going to arm you likewise... - We are grateful even for the little, we have plenty, except, you never know how it will be out there and so…we harvest where we can, we shall be managing even with the smallest…- But I also can’t leave my Queen alone, I have to stay, the stakes had changed, and I might…not…I am not able to give you the promised number who will serve your cause or be in your service, not even those who asked for the shelter.

- I am not disappointed, because there is something where you MAY deliver what you promised back, without going against your pledge. – Then, I am fully pledged. Voice it, Jon. – Witcher – upon hearing it, Oberyn widens his eyes. – I would never let such a creature to even make one step toward my Citadel. To even come near or in. No insult to them, save even if I know what they went through to become Witchers, the way they came to be and how it goes for them, had I known that you will be speaking of him, I would be far better prepared than now. – I knew you knew. – Come, to our libraries, I bet we shall find something – he stops in his tracks – you found out who threw toxin around your neck? – Saruman. – Right, we look into it too.

The two are heading to the Great Library of the Citadel, it was preferably called the Commoner’s Library because anyone can enter and this pleased Jon very much, something what Ned instilled into the North too, it was tiresome, but with the help of Sam for whose friendship he yearns and whose presence is badly missed. There is forevermore the space for him, what he took with himself and what went with him, currently, he follows another man to the bottom of all pits, because if you think that this library had no steps, you were in the wrong. There they are, still, the Library wasn’t stationed up, but down, underground with rows upon rows of torches and lanterns which are casting quite and downright large shadows upon stony pillars and walls.
P.S. Of course he pulled his pants on, to the disappointment of his fans…(smile) that tells you all, let alone anything else. Into the temptations, the least.

Chapter 109: Of Elves and birds…

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If the Great Serpent is Feanor, he lost his touch and in his place that is taken, comes the reincarnation of Satan we know as Celebrimbor, from the grandsire to the grandchild. Galadriel was in the right, the Wolves change their coats but the temper never, and so is with the Evil, it changes faces, but the essence stays forever. Tauriel remembers how it was for her, the first time, confronting the fear and standing before Northmen, but the first one who in turn was the woman came to her, over to where she stood, saying, you are one of us, taking her spirit into the Pack. Brienne of Tarth, she will never forget it. So, fearful she stood there, beside Sam while the abyss looms behind her.

She has to speak with her more, never finding the befitting time, she spoke far more with the Wolves, although Lady was silent in her bonding with Brienne until they part ways when Sansa is retrieved. Her Original Mistress. She was not only lost in her pensive thoughts, she was immersed in her world. The woman who lived in her own mind, never through the eyes of reality. And what good did it ever bring? Only she hasn’t seen. Never asking of God for the Utopia, but for some form of the justice where the goodness is returned by the same. More and more it is likely never to be so. Remembering two sisters of Lore. Mab and Lady of Lake. Pathetic she was.

- Is something bothering you? – Haldir, the Lord Hand of the King sat next to her, on one of the innumerable flower benches. – I will have to speak a lot more with the Ladies of our Pack, there is something what I must clarify because… - You feel that too, right? – she turns to him, her crimson flowery hair was flowing in the waterfalls by doing so. – What do you mean? – Well…the change in yourself, it is why you seek the comfort of the women of this world.

- I am She – Elf. I am one of… - Still, you are a woman and…the woman that doesn’t give birth, at least, not yet, there are fewer women in this world, in regard to the elven kind and even though they are taken for wives, sometimes, not even one child is born from them and all others are stillborns. You still haven’t conceived…am I wrong? – she looks down.

- It will take time, but don’t worry, Eru will bless you – he laid his hand covering over her elvish womb, she rests her hers above his.

- Maybe I don’t want it, I have never watched it with the eyes as I am cursed, it freed me, for other women will take over the burden – she glances at Haldir who finally understood her. What others saw as the calamity, to her…was FREEDOM.

- Am I a bad person, Haldir? – No – he chuckles – you are the feminist, that is all and I do not sound like it is something bad, but…it only confirms that you belong to the class of women who are for themselves. You may have children or husbands, but they are never your entire world or you wouldn’t be here where you are. Legolas…is idiotic Elf like most of our kind, but we are smart. He knows when to back down, and that was his greatest strength, not to win, the winning comes easy to him, always did, however, to fall back, that is a feat! – I have a need to bond with women…much more than now. – Then, do it. – And I will, but I see there is something you want to tell me. My issues are not the biggest.

- You flatter yourself – she giggles at that. – Come, we go up. Our trees, after all, we are the Wood (Silvan) Elves. – I follow you, go first. – Ladies go first. – As you please – she kindly obeyed his request by jumping high and with the precise briskness, she was unprecedented. He is after her, until they are not settled on one of the sturdiest boughs, flowering with the fruitful offerings. – Ah, so nice. It smells even diversely, I love to look from the trees.

- You are still young, about 2000 years old, if I am not mistaken. This is why you are still in love with the world. – Like you are some Grandpa, that is how you sound… - I am old, just because it isn’t shown on our faces, it doesn’t mean that we do not feel our Old Age… - Over time, you are mightier… - And older. But, this is the secret which the humans do not have heed to learn – she snickers all over again. – And, what do you think, our Lady, about Jon’s agility so far? Did he improve? – Yes, but he is…hm, he isn’t…I mean… - He is fat. I know…too much fat on him, that meat is all muscle, and he doesn’t possess slenderness like in Elves. He is bulky and too big, though shorter. He is just…large. And when he puts that cloak over him…black or royal blue, or whatever, he is the epitome of the humanity. He should lose some weight. – You tell him that. Still, there are burly Elves in us too. – They are exceptions and even they are not…well…too husky for the quickness of Elves, sometimes, it decides even your fate.

- And Jon is not fat. – For the elven kind, unfortunately, he is. – Ah, and who is going to come in front of him and implore him to lose a few pounds? Tell that to him when he knocks himself off with that mutton between his teeth, and have you seen it, he is just… - Yes – both laughed smartly, carried away together with the silly situation. – I once tried to take a bite and he…GROWLED AT ME – she burst into the healthy laugh, oh, God, she missed how it feels and it is doing them so good. – I have to hold my stomach. – Me too. But damn, he gained weight. – Well, to the Men, it is the Muscles, to the Elves, is Fat. – And have you seen his cheeks!

- I know! I did, they are so plump, to our Men, the rosy cheeks are a sign of health, to our pale ones, it is the symbol of fatness! Oh God. He will never be the true Elf. I don’t know, has Feanor ever thought about it? – Weight and kilos?! Nope. We have a problem. He is simply huge. – Glorfindel too. – He is slim in other areas and mastered his largeness, Jon no.

Tauriel pictured how it could be that such a man, just incases you wholly in all the flesh and blood, ah she has been so appreciative of her dwarf Prince.

- He is not attractive to me at all. – Because he holds himself as the Man. – Isn’t that it? And I prefer them shorter, but he is just…I don’t know, I feel uneasy even thinking about having… you know… the relationship with him if he or I were free. – That is the vivid distinction between races. What Humans find appealing, to us, it is abhorrent. – Ugh, he will never perfect self in agility if he doesn’t take care of that weight of his, he can’t move agiler or swifter. – He needs it for that Longclaw of his… - Yes, I am aware it requires the brawn, but he will remain a beefy crossbred! – BEEFY?!

- It is true and so real, truthful of what I utter, when someone looks at him, who would ever say that he is Elf. – He passes as both, that is a good thing, when you close one eye. – Just one?! I must both! And all this Citadel doesn’t do him any favor. A few more kilos ON – the Elves breathed out, no hope for Jon Snow. Soon, he will look like Ned Stark, ah, too much meat and fat on him. He is just too human after all. Sounds unfair, but that is how it is. – Regardless…you wanted something smarter to talk about, we will figure out what to do with Jon’s diet, or he is becoming some kind of Mountain. Immensely.

- You heard of the complete disunion of the High King Fingolfin. – Younger brother of the Emperor? – Yes, with his first wife, now, for the first time, beside the Empress, we have human High Queen. – And what about his courtesan or concubine, oh, whatever, who will remember it all, it changes all the time. – He was her Second Lord, heh, Mistresses faring better than the Queen. The Irony. Even though he captured her for the youngest Prince, son of his to whom she is given back fully. – Then what? – The first issued concern the New High Queen as a human took upon herself and which she dealt with is to free a Baratheon boy, Tommen, from the House of Dragon’s claws, sending him to Gondolin as she promised. – How did she do that? – Scary woman. Lioness! – I see…at least, she saved him from the horrible fate which is sealed for being Baratheon. Bees of Kings and Queens, I can only fathom, struggled amongst themselves for him. – It is the game over now. He is secured and under protection of the Holy High Queen.

- I like her. – You like every woman, irrespective of status or her might, isn’t that so? – I do! Merely not just the women…notwithstanding for why? Since when she awakened the soft spot for…I heard she isn’t like that at all, in the least. – She is not the same as she were, chose the North’s cause to back up and in her interest is someone with whom she was once attuned with, connected through Time and Space, and it seems, it is that boy. She gained her Lion powers too. – You sense it?! – Yes, I am older than you and guess what…The Feanorian Matriarch, the Grand, is re-embodied. And parted ways, forevermore with the Emperor.

- Huh, you think that my Ygritte will, who is Empress (Eowyn) rebirthed, go back to him?! – He is a patient man, he doesn’t steal from his own blood. Elves can wait, it is the blink of an eye for him. He has obtained patience for her and has all the time of the world on his time to serve him. Love changes and does that to any man. – And she also serves as the Fake Eve to protect the Original One. Galadriel. – My head hurts, the first Time!

Both grinned a tad. There is a lot more to speak about. Presently, when they are not estranging Highlanders of the Norse dynasties from themselves, but being accepted and admitted into their ways of the living. It wasn’t easy, howsoever, it still remains with Ygritte to speak and have a talk, individually with the women or girls, because this is what troubled her. The Lack of women on the Elven side, no wonder why they became such a spoil and the hunted treasure. Silvan Elves, perhaps, abandoned their lifestyles, still, never a chance to woo human women to themselves. The Elven women even for the Man’s kind, became the Gems which are almost impossible to attain. The Shield of Jon, still persisted around Dale. Power he left all behind to hold!
*
What remained is the Will of manifested Shield from the materialized and visualized Wall. I saw everything in us until what turns out, you are all to me.
*
Of Warrior Boy Kings, Elf -Men and Lady Elves of War, we realize the veracity when it comes as our mere truthfulness, merely the one we left behind.
*
Abandoning all of Sin and acknowledging Virtue…for not all women are born to search for gratification, like Sansa Stark, all she needs is her home she will tend to, she does it splendid, that is why she shall be crucial for Winterfell…as its Lady.

Chapter 110: Bullsh*t

Chapter Text

Celebrimbor got the feel of it, that this aunt’s betrayal was complete. Oh, Galadriel. It perhaps is time to visit your champions. I am aware of the Pact that is forged in between. Of One Ring with Glorfindel, formed to equalize the balances, during the life and after his rebirth is re-forged, without responding to one another. This is why the strongest always fall first, fooling themselves that they can become the Wall against my One Ring, perhaps, Glorfindel is just that, but not for long. Eru keeps the balance by answering to the War Cry of the grandest of all time, granting Glorfindel upon his knees since the spring days of his youth, in the time of despair, Power and Glory, if he becomes his vengeance he delivers to the prey and deserving, oh, he remembers that day in the Realm of Fantasy, of Thunder he is carven because he had to become what he feared to survive and of the Gold he shone for there was no light where he was born and recaptured back all over again along with his mother until he earned their freedom, tasting the very first buds of the real liberation. In the present day, he is the Might and Awe, in grace and favor, until he didn’t lose his path and someone else brought him back to the right side, at last. He sought to be given all, and he was, except taking the Powers to destroy evil forces, and in turn, evil resists him. Winter.

- And have you seen King’s Dragon? – I did, Haldir. He is as black as the purest night with his blackish emerald flames, he was the blackest of starlight. – Have you heard of Nimue, the Lady of the Lake and her sister, Fae Queen Mab? Both Great and High? – Two twin sisters of folklore? What about them? – There are tidings among the Lore World that they are joining Galadriel.

- Is that so?! It is like a dream. – There is more. You know that Jon acknowledged me because of his Uncle Maglor he met years ago at the Wall? – Yes? – Soon, I will be back to him. My time, here, with all of you is limited. Besides, it is just for a while… - I know…still… you don’t want to return? – I must. I am claimed, dear Tauriel. – And what if Jon claims you back?

- It makes no sense. Maglor expects me to be back to his side. He gave me away only for the transient hours, not for ever, that was the Pact with Gandalf the Grey. – I can’t take your place. – Jon wouldn’t mind, everyone grew fond of you. You grow on people and they take a liking to you. – I won’t replace you. It is unjust. If I am ever to take someone’s place or be in someone’s stead, it won’t be by retaking what is someone else’s, regardless of what you or anybody else might think, and as you know, my time is just for satisfaction of temporary needs too, here with them. I am coming back to my husband.

- He can move with you.

- Oh, why are you sure and consumed of what I am becoming…like…I am the most satisfied with what I am and what I have gained. I never requested for more, and why would I? What for? I am content with my life as long as I have food to eat, water to drink, what to dress, where to bathe myself and roof…I don’t even need a roof over my head, all I need is my…freedom, and that was all. It is down to me what I am going to do it with it. So, stop thinking in the way you do. – I don’t know had you noticed but we have the Elephant in the room, gaping one, that stares at us. – Haldir, what are you talking about? – The problem. I never thought we will bond. – You did?! – Yes, you too, you are unaware. What about you, Tauriel? Nothing keeps you to do as you please and husband will follow you. I am uncertain of my faith with Jon. – Me?! They all are conscious from a moment they got us that we can’t stay. – Ah, tell that to the human hearts. – Which now beat as ours? Is that what you try to say to me?!

Who would ever tell that she can be so difficult, for all the surreal and if not wrongful reasons, but unreasonable if not for anything else in their domain.

- Ygritte, Brienne, Rhaenyra, even Lady, I more than aware of your dwarven Prince as well, it is all you can talk about sometimes. – Let us continue this conversation if we made out alive and when the time is due – her silky voice was travelling slow and in silkiness, his was of the thunderous bells. Lastly, as it was from God sent, she has caught sight of the Wolves. Ygritte and Lady. – Go to them, if the heart coerced you!

Joining the Pack, Haldir watched after them as long as his elven eyes served him, far and distant, where he reached, that is where he stays to deem the sealed destiny. It left him to opine or better to say, to dwell on Ancalagon the Black who could be both intimidating and cruelly formidable adversary to Black Dread, Balerion of House of Dragon. It would be amusing to watch responses, Dark Terror from Black Wells with Dragon of Grey Mountains!

- You are distracted and absent-minded. – Ah, what?! – Even the silent Lady recognizes the inner torment.

- No, I…does Lady ever speak? Or she doesn’t require it? – Direwolves are…odd flowers, but, we of Valinor hybridization, from which the divine Source we all stem, thanks to Kara, the Matriarch of all Wolves, we started talking the language of humanoids and the tongues of Elves, as well as the speech of the blackness if it is demanded, considering situations. And you digress…stray from the subject. – I don’t do that. – When the matter doesn’t suit you, you do, Daughter of the Forest as well as all other children.

- It was ours, we were here long before even the Noldor – and Ygritte could only exhale because Tauriel won’t speak about what torments her and tears her apart. From loyalty to love, to the adventure and all over again, it is the vicious cycle from which there was no escape unless she allows to be availed. Lady nudges her, causing that she smiles gently at her, petting a little, if she could, she would purr, snuggling deeper, having She–Elf beam in joy while leaving Ygritte with no seemly answer, taken with their Lady Elf, and so, Grey World never appears farther and so close, unknowingly, Brienne is listening in and she could not be still, not to interfere.

Noticing her tall and proud, Tauriel smiled back at the haughty woman, it looked good on her. Ygritte and Lady drew back to take a sleep in the shade.

- I see that you have bonded well with Jon’s Wolf – had someone else expressed in the way she did, it would sound sneering, but with honest Brienne, it is the statement of the fact. – By virtue of your aid. You have my wholehearted gratitude. – You are too generous, warmhearted. So kind and compassionate, and likewise of the pure heart, the purest I have ever met. Struggles hadn’t broken you – this alerted Tauriel earnestly, perking up her elvish ears, it was continually cute to watch. – Why would you say it? – Brienne approached her with a deep voice, without the dark in it. – Would you mind to walk with me and for you to tell me your story? – this took her aback, was it that apparent?

- I might – they strolled. – What do you wish to know? – Everything… - Well, I don’t speak a lot about my Past, it is not easy. – Just begin. – I am a lowborn orphan, and despite what you think, Elf children are prone to starvation. I was starving or half - starved all the time, I was fending for myself, yet I would die if Legolas hadn’t discovered me and together with his family I was raised, even by his own father. A long time ago, I learned not to have lots of ambitions, only those of being happy. – But, you have a dream, so what of your status, who cares about it any longer? Look at us, we all come from different backgrounds.

- I don’t want to delude myself with the silly dreams which wouldn’t come true anyway. – Wait, you are telling me – this made Brienne to stop – you never…dreamed? Like…dreaming… - No, why would I? I am happy to have friends, cheer, laugh…food and… - That is it? – her elven voice endeared her so, because it was rife with verdant liveliness. – What is out there for more to ask, as soon as people begin craving and coveting, it ends in the Game of Thrones. It is the best way when you have no aspirations. It is mirth.
She was lying, Brienne could smell it. She wanted so much, but everything is out of reach. What others never even thought of, they obtained with ease!

- You gave up. – It is for the best. And look, as soon as I did, let go…I am happier than ever! – no, it wasn’t that. The time came for her, she is the one who doesn’t have faith in herself. – I understand, from now on, it is the duty of all to make you dream. – Ah?! – To do what you dream, yes, step by step. – Brienne. – You would even make a fine Lady Hand of the King or Queen! – I am not of gentle birth. – Tauriel… - I am Silvan Elf and I am complacent in the way I am presently. Leave me alone – this forced Brienne to back off. Wow. What a Wall this woman had walled and built about herself. Surprisingly, Rhaenyra, as she knows, out of the blue, chirped in, and just tweeted along around two Ladies.

Talked and talked, so cheerful that the two most awesome women are the ones she idolized to the death, wrapping round them as the little snake she is.

- You have to listen to what I have to utter you! – both women forgot their differences, laying aside while they were just listening to the Music of Tweets, damn, this girl is turning into the gossip one! – King Jon…or is it Lord Snow? Sire?! Anyway, there is that sunken underground Library where any unimaginable book exists! They went down and I guess it is all about Witchers and Wizards! What do you think, what can they learn and… - this had them become wary of what she is speaking, most of the time, correcting her misspelling of the words or pronunciation, but then something more obvious caught their attention. Brienne enquired. – Little Lady (Rha adores to be called like this), where is your Syrax? Dragon.

Blinking, she began, upset, rummaging her every dint, dip, pocket…no sign of her Dragon who was on the loose. What if she transforms in the middle of Citadel out of all times?! Where is Jon’s?! Is he with him!? Brienne and Tauriel shared concerning glances. WHERE ARE f*ckING DRAGONS!? Without stressing anyone else. The three girls were on the quest of finding the Dungeons and Dragons. It is likely that Syrax may nest even some eggs. You never know, why? Ancalagon is male, she is female. THEY HAVE A TROUBLE! Why didn’t anybody think about that?! It isn’t like it is that unbelievable. Yet, this is what happens when everybody are engrossed into their own woes and concerns, with the whole Hosts of the Missing Dragons.

sh*t.
*
The latest news in the Realm of Fantasy world.

Warning, warning: If you have seen some runaway Dragons who are set loose, please notify officials at the first sighting of flying amphibian- reptilians!

Take notice: They may burn you by blowing Dragonfire of black flames, some are green or royal blue.

Nesting pearls are on the run…

Realm’s Delight.

Chapter 111: Our Targaryen Idiot and Dragon playground

Chapter Text

Why were they so dissimilar from each other. Each of them, had their personal road to fly. Syrax decided that she wants to will it. Finding as soon as possible Ancalagon, at the first notion of him being on his own. He must have slipped away from his Rider too. That was her turn. Ultimately, she found him how he tries to climb the tallest tree there was, it was some sort of training for him, but upon seeing her, he dropped a hazard, and joined her.

- Syrax – as he is a real peaco*ck, he spread out his tiny black wings and flapped, she did it the same, this was their way of saying hello, the fellow greeting, until he chooses to get closer, creeping to her as the little alien he looked with these even tinier horns on his head which were sticking out like the steely rods. – I like your horns! – she starts snuggling into him, she likes him a lot. – I like your beauty! Let us mate! – Let’s do it so!

All the while the mazes of the libraries were linked to one another. It was the Little city of books where each one of them was either lightened or left in obscurity. It crosses his mind about Sam. He would adore it in here. Everywhere he goes, it reminds or recalls as him along with the cherished family he had to leave behind, but if he falters now, he will never see the End to it. He wouldn’t be able to live like that. A Lady Librarian was taking them to IT.

- You are wishful. You are mooning over something? – stupefying Jon in a course of slipping.

- Why do you say that?

- Over what you struggle? Where it burns for you? – Jon looks away.

- If my Sam was here... I can’t stop thinking, brooding and mulling over my baby sister Sansa as well. It is like all thoughts return to her, from the beginning, all starts when it has begun and why. Who was the real one who set it all in motion and moved the Wheel.

- Let us learn from the Witcher’s mythos, so that you Kill Bastard! – Who, me?!

- No, not you, not all are you! I thought about the White Wolf. – I am White Wolf.

- Go figure. You are born for each other to slay!

- And how did you know it was him?

- He is the best of everything you could call the Witcher. And who else? You are the Powerhouse yourself, the force I wouldn’t like to meet in the clashing of Thrones sane, if there was ever the Perfection in the Witcher’s world, that would be Geralt of Rivia. Contained all is in him, without impurities, just like you, except…Witchers have no feelings, not in the way that Elves or Humans are to feel. That is their advantage, even when dying or in the greatest trial, they overpower everyone, you Elves, distinguishingly Targaryens fear to die about all which makes you practically human. So…He is the pure will and the purest of the cleansed awareness. Witchers are all the humanoid Wolves, not Wargs, under the human skin and with the wildest blood in them that cools their bloodlust, they are the perfect chimeras of all conjunctions of spheres. In the similar fashion, even Daemon Targaryen came to be. I heard a myriad of it, and let me tell you something. All those Gods won’t stop at nothing to create the ultimate biological weapon, but that is the thing with the biology, only the Nature always wins over the synthetic.

- What if it doesn’t prevail? I am also the result of multiple crossbreeding. It was…intentional.

- I know…and this is why you are all mad, or better to express it like this, in every Targaryen, lurks the Madness which once it is unlocked, endear us all God.

- Is there a way…to control it? Madness?

- There is a possibility, we are heading toward it…I presume… then…You are scared of that Shadow that hovers over you, right? – What Shadow?

- You came with it into my Citadel. I let it go, it is all the time with you. At first, I thought it is the Wraith… - Jon completely stopped moving.

- WHAT HAVE I BROUGHT? What is it with me and for how long and…how do you...- it only now hit him. Of course he will sight it. Oberyn swirls to Jon Snow. – Jon…I am a peaco*ck, you will detect countless times how I make my own fashion show, but never, take me for a fool. We of Sand, have our own…Warg powers. My wife is better than me and she immediately said, he follows him everywhere. The Night King. He never left you. He is of Hurin’s revenge completed, hence satisfied his bloodthirst to the full.

- We are merged. – You are, but in that Shadow, another one is hiding and we all know, about whom I am talking – this shattered Jon’s world. Since the day he was a boy, he was shadowing him?! That is insane. Celebrimbor.
- Does he know about the Twin Ring? – No, Jon. But you are someone he fears above everything, but there is…another too – he continues to follow the quiet Librarian Lady, Jon goes after him. - And this is the finest reason why you can’t read me. My mind is forevermore locked for you to enter.

- My big brother? – Ah, as a baby brother to him, you truly has given it to him, am I mistaken? – You are not but… Azor Ahai… - Not him. – Then who?! – It must be…human.

- That is crazy. A human being can’t ever…even dream to fight such darkness. – Well. That someone will show up. – Woman? – Who knows. I am not telling you anything. It is no fun and you must teach yourself how to master the fun of patience. – Oberyn, with all due respect…I don’t believe you – Oberyn eyes Jon Snow. – Why? – Only the strongest of the strongest might defeat the Darkness of all Evils…like I am. Glorfindel, Azor Ahai, Daemon, even Witch Queen or Fae… not a simple human – oh, Oberyn smirked.

- You are sneering at me! – And what are you going to do about it, King in the North?! Stop fretting yourself, all that fuss is not good for you, nor it graces you all the same. – I am the One who is the most powerful in this world! I am not even in my Prime, and you won’t spluttered such nonsense ever more!

- The Dragon is awake. – What?! – In you – he winks at the infuriated Jon. – I am having Celebrimbor’s head. Of my Elf brother. Me and me alone! I won’t part from the single day of my victory over or against him! – oh my, even the Dragon’s sickness is here. – Why do you ignore me?! – It is the best way when someone thinks he is the God given, to take away his power by just…not caring about it at all – and Oberyn in the fullness of time, won Jon Snow, and he hadn’t lifted even one finger. Damn, he was good and all that ire and shadowed charging, dispersed from Jon who had no choice but to follow Oberyn Martell’s shadow, until he spoke again, this time, much more rational.

- Have I fallen to One Ring? – That is the smartest you ever asked, and now you look at my back, one day, someone will yours, don’t you think? – he glanced from the corners of his eyes before focusing on the Lady Librarian, not his sights, but her seamless folds of rich dress, everybody was clothed and fed to the perfect designs in the world of Oberyn Martell, as well as educated, trained and learned. He really has to finish that poem of his. – You haven’t answered.

- What is there to answer? It is just a matter of time, and this is how you are going to best and conquer the mightiest of everyone you will ever meet.
- Who is that?! – Librarian disappears and Oberyn twirled to him. – You. Jon Snow. Once your defeated self sees that the triumph is not the Sword in your hand and the fallen enemy, only then, you become the King on the Carven Throne. Yet, I repeat myself, something I don’t do often, but when I do, I mean it. There is Another! Jon Snow.

Who could that be?! Woman or man?! Confusing. Oberyn, as well-read he is, takes one book in his hands, the only he will be in need. Reading to King!

- Your Grace…listen to me – now Great Lord and the Prince of the Citadel in the East, addressed Jon formally which took him by surprise, this was getting real. – There is no intel when the First one came into our lives, but all of it stems from the Dragonblood, which perfectly implies that Witchers are unburnt even when they do burn. Jon. Witchers are all chimera Targaryens. They have no why to use elven shields that channel both their powers and healing, having no effect on stamina, yet, without it, even Elf burns, and Witchers with their silver manes and catlike eyes, are embodiments of transmuted and transhuman prospects. Something what Targaryen Elves strive to become. You have it here all in depth. My King. And Saruman? Who do you think was behind all disharmony between Original Elves and the Reimagined. Why do you deem that one Saruman the White would go that far if not…- As Celebrimbor’s ally. He really has given a thought to it. – He prepares since inception!

Why would the Darkness of all Shadows find its Host, for there are innumerous souls for which there is the name or how it is titled, who would serve the Hosts, thus, the inspiration was given the humanoid form, taking the shape of another who bears the Dark of the Nights, either the Kings or the Shades. Eventually, during their researches and explorations, the venerated trio that consisted of the two Ladies and one little one, were on the raging quest to find the missing Dragons.

Why? If Syrax misses, it only meant one thing, for the Dragon never leaves its Rider unless it is in the search for the mate, that is also only if there is the potential one. How could they forget about this all?! It is just incomprehensible. They all failed due to their own concerns or some troubles. Regarding it was all new to Jon, still adjusting and with the swirling thoughts, he is being possessed by his intimate shortcomings. It is a given that he was never a very good student when it comes to the counsels or listening, but just doing his ways, so it is very sure that something has gone awry in the Water Gardens. Oberyn is going to slay them! Because Jon hadn’t paid much attention and no one remembers if Ancalagon even went with him or is he doubtlessly in one of his pockets. Knowing Jon, he unmindfully let him go to explore. What can they say? Idiot!
From my Dragonheart, play around, what I feel, you feel likewise.

Chapter 112: Hip Man

Chapter Text

My eyes told you all what you must know, my leniency is the realization written on my face, in the night hour of my absolution. Evolved powers hasten the evolution in the Man. So, Brienne, Tauriel and Rhaenyra were on the hunt for the Dragons or potential eggs which are popping out very soon after the deed is done, while doing so. Lady Elf had something to ask Brienne of Tarth, it was openly bugging her and she was driven by instincts to enquire.

- How are you and your baby you have received with Jaime? – Oh, never better even though he tries to make a housewife out of me. Never, he can only dream – Tauriel had to chuckle at her. – And how is he? I am going to visit him. – Hm, he should be sore but as it appears, the Dragon heart serves him well. He is the regular guy and yet, fate does test him with some inhuman possibilities. – We all wonder why it is like this for us all, like this for now, Rhaenyra is really on the rampage. – This never happened and who would ever even give a thought, I mean, I am the first who wouldn’t and… - Come here! Girls! – She already found her?! – Let us see! It must be that she has followed a scent. Brace it! – drew near.

Rhaenyra moved apart both sides of the fern leaves and there, in the nested spot, they have what to behold. Oh…Mother of all Dragons. THREE EGGS! Already!? Where is Syrax and…Anca?! At first, they didn’t know what to do or act, even Rhaenyra was left wordless. She merely lost her for such a short time and this happens?! Are they nearby?! Where did they go?! Tauriel and Brienne have no notion to even dare coming closer, too fearful.

- Rhaenyra, you are going to just keep staring at it?! – No, auntie Brienne – this totally melted her guard but it even made Tauriel brightened when she said next – and you auntie Elf, you should give it a look – sharing the meaningful glance with Brienne, she audaciously got very near until she hadn’t noticed that these Dragon Eggs were bluntly fresh. It is true, those are her eggs and suddenly, Anca and Syrax peeked out from their hideaway, looking at the dumbfounded people around them. And at the Rider and Mistress.

- Rhaenyra! Look what has come out from me! What I know is that…my body didn’t spare any time, one moment I was large as the whale and another, these three came to me! To Us! What do you think!? Aren’t they beauties! Anca helped me make even a nest for them, to keep them warm! Here is quite humid and they will hatch in no time! – everything was ringing in their ears. Rhaenyra understood the seriousness of the situation, clearing her throat that became very dry in the moment. – Syrax…is this everything?! Where have you burrowed the rest?!

- You know! Well, you see…I don’t know… I can’t remember, I know I did, but these three are here…but for the others, we must find them! – Do you know the exact number?! – I don’t know that either, but no worry, everything is under control – with every answer, Tauriel and Brienne were far from the images of themselves, paled and colorless, because the snow is colored by the promises right here and now. In the most metaphorical fashions. – We have no time to waste – all the urges kicked in and Brienne was in her mode – we have to search every corner of the Water Dragons and don’t tell anything to our benevolent Host, neither to our King. We are taking the matters in our hands!

- Not telling me what?! – the three of them screamed at Jon Snow and Lord Oberyn, Prince of the Citadel in the East upon the turn, in such a way that they had to yelp instead likewise. What the?! All are appalled by the unfolding situation except for the Dragon couple. What a mess! – Dear Eru! Is this some ambush!? – Oberyn remarked. – No, our Lords! It is just – all three arrayed themselves in the tight line, shrouding the peculiar image.

- What the three of you are hiding from us?! Behind your backs?! Move or I am going to ascertain it myself! – Jon is angry whenever there are some secrets which are kept from him, this wasn’t the time to alienate themselves from one another and all what the trio could obsess about was from where have they sprouted?! – Listen to your King and mine as well, considering that we are associated…- There is nothing to look at. It is a matter of us, women! Whirl back and do your affairs and matters you have issued.

- When you women together say it jointly, banded in this manner, it can never end good. I like women and I know you! – Oberyn noted, only to come to him on its own, crossing his thoughts.

- Jon…where is your Dragon?! – Jon started searching his pockets, every dip, isn’t he back, and then, his profound glare fell upon the three. – Move… - Jon… - Brienne starts…

- I said move, my dearest Dame…move…and don’t strain yourself for too much, return to your Jaime, and leave this to me, all of you… please – did he by now conclude it so lightly?! The three followed the strict order and what was unraveled is for both men out of all words.

- My Water Gardens are infested! Jon, how have you allowed to come to this?! – it was all what he could reckon at the point while Jon was struggling to make any sense of it all, at what he was watching, glancing at the three.

- You had found out just now? – We did – Tauriel took over – and there are more, we have to find them before they hatch by themselves, these Gardens are like a miracle to the Dragon kind, we have to make haste and be quick, Our Lord and forgive us…our Host… - she bows together with both Dame and silver Princess of Lions before it got uncontrolled, during which the little Syrax and Anca were proudly showing off their legacy upon the world. Jon moved fairly close to the both, just watching them, and his little one, there is the talk that awaits to be brought about between him and the Black. However, in some part of his brain, he was more than vain that his son actually delivered it in the spectacular manners, only for someone to advance toward, breaking the moment, the stick is heard, reminding Jon and the Ladies of the previous experiences. Oberyn sensed it too, all of the party, looked back and what they saw was Lannister?

Since when, what?! The thing is…he was still hurt and yes, he was in the better shape than he would be, but he has to have some sort of the support for him to walk, because the hip aches him and he believes he has gotten some rheumatism. Brienne, seeing him like this, only what she could think about was that she is married to the old geezer, not Jaime Lannister! Oh, give me a break whilst he couldn’t understand what was all a fuss and uproar in here.

- What?! – What are you doing outside?! – Brienne, I wanted some fresh air! – Not like this! – I missed you! And daughter, what is happening, tell your father…and why are you all looking at me like you are assessing the Ghost! Ah…my hip – this was impossible to digest. Jaime and hip, oh God, can it be anyhow worse?!

- You don’t have to take care of me, all the time, help yourself first, do not embarrass me and I am able to protect myself from any advances!

- Oberyn you say?! Nah, I am not worrying about it at all. You are not attractive, you are all mine because of it, there is no reason to concern myself with it, but still there are other concerns – upon saying it, they were sure he is under the influence of antibiotics and what saved his life was that Brienne is pushed down by everyone who found themselves at present. Sheesh, she is so sensitive, hearing what Oberyn has to say.

- The motive why I hadn’t made any advances or hit on her is because she is perilous for my health! – he earned that cane from Lannister. Now, his hip felt better. And Oberyn wasn’t certain what hit him, leaving the present people gaping at what he did.

- What?! He is taking advantage of my wife!

- YOU DON’T PUNCH OUR HOSTS! We are guests! You idiot! – yells Jon, fairly enough, Oberyn was upright, ready to kill Lannister who deemed he has done nothing wrong, just protecting his wife’s honor who could do nothing but glare totally shaken at what he has done, yes, lost for words, after which Rhaenyra and Tauriel went aside, there are Dragon eggs to spot and the two lovers were thus far nesting themselves for more, amidst, Jon stood between the man with the pained hip and stick across the enraged Martell. – Give him to me! – You can’t strike at the hip man, I mean…the injured man! He is not clear in his head either! – I don’t care, I will stick that cane into his prodding butt! He is ruining my beauty! – You are just fine! – Give him over to me! – Lannister, run and locate our Eggs!

This sounded so wrong on so many levels, that there was the trouble where to start. Like what?! He has a hurtful hip and rod, where to run?! You can’t escape that Red Viper and Brienne abandoned him for she feels that he is damaging her reputation, whiles Tauriel and Princess do not interfere. Situation isn’t in control, out of it, giving all to luck. Blows are exchanged between Jon Snow and Oberyn Martell. Lord Roose is passing by, beckoning at Rhaenyra to join him. Estimating it as a good idea. Tauriel and Brienne went on the other side, leaving Hip Man with his rheumatism to watch over the newlyweds who were loving each other to the death, with the King who was fighting a Viper of all Vipers! Leaving them breathless. It is ludicrous!

Take what the life offers,
Give to the Life back,
Hold the Head Up.

- Jon, you are not visiting me enough! I miss you! – Jaime laments, antibiotics had blown him in the head.
*
During all the turmoil…from the long distances, Horns of Erebor, beneath Lonely Mountain, are ringing their bells upon the greeting, they toll when someone dies and declare when the King rises, to those who knew to tell apart when trumpets are singing and standards waving…
*
The Shadow WAS HERE. Oberyn was close, Celebrimbor took the unholy vantage of Jaime’s infected wound and through the blood, he was inside, slowly, the shadows were slithering out, under his feet and what he followed was the Silver daughter of the golden Lion. Oh, Bastard...
*
Indeed…someone was always biding their time and…watching…the High Demon…

Chapter 113: The Great Search for the Stone Eggs

Chapter Text

Missing those days when he was Hooman, longing for a simpler life to return back, never to be as he dreamed or ever was, with a girl who holds in her hands a lamb of God. When Death doesn’t change your essence, you are left with nothing but what you can’t ever reach. Without limiting, those who are not afraid to stray from the orderly path, become something else, more than every day, more than they were themselves yesterday. Those were also the times when you could tell apart a Man from God. And what is God but a Man who searches for the infinite knowledge for anything that doesn’t need to bear his Name. And in that word, upon that oath, we swore that the Life might crush us where it is hurting the most, but you never beat our full Spirit!

Hence, Death, at all times, changes everything, such was... Life, but never your marrow, that is the relevance when all Angels had spoken and all Demons went silent. Beware, for all you who look for in the darkness, it isn’t the Shadow you will find, it is the Light of Godless. Turning nothing into the purpose, is the venture we take upon ourselves. As only there is. Bolton has led his godchild with the exactness of someone who knew Life even better than some Elves, for not the years are these you count, but the experience you learned from the same ones, this is where he drew his wisdom and passed it down onto their Rhaenyra, one day, if she lives long enough, she will become the exceptional Black Queen such as Jon Snow, the Black King.

- You know, when I was younger, I thought I always knew what is the right path and what is wrong. – Please, Godfather, I don’t feel well. I made such a mistake – he offers her a hand and she took it, squeezing it, making him hold tight, and never let go, softening him so. – Hm, what should I say then? – his deepest tone reverberated through the paved pathways and into the halls of Water Gardens. Into its core. – Who changed you, Lord Bolton?

- You are perceptive. It was my…friend, more than he was King to me. Ned Stark. – Was he really that great, of everything what others talk about him? – Hm, unless he rings your head like a bell. – What?! – Nothing, it is just the memories of childhood – he smirked slightly upon the preciousness. – Alas, it is all my fault. – If Jon was responsible, it wouldn’t never come to this. It is unfair for anybody to blame you. Don’t place the guilt over yourself, that which that doesn’t belong to you. You are still a child. There will come the hours and times when you cease to be childlike. – It doesn’t release me from my responsibility. – Stay a child for a while, child – he squeezes back – once you grow up, there is no going back. Use this time to make as many mistakes as you like, because when you are grown, even the world changes around you, never for you.

- Thank you…Godfather – and his heart swells. – And what does the North look like? – Oh, it is difficult to explain, but at first, it isn’t for anyone, when you see those endless plains and the barren fields, boundless, and yet, when the Winter comes, it is one of the most beautiful gems of purity you will ever lay your eyes on, under the snow, the life thrives and this is where we hunt, this is from where we forage our food, for those who knew where to look. And then, when the Spring showers us with all its offerings and bountiful blessings, you know that every suffering was worthwhile. Rewarding. That is the North. It has its charm, and once you meet your home, it stays with you ever.

Therefore, accordingly, she fell in love with the place she is yet to see. Bolton winks at her, telling her, that he would like to see her rule the North one day, there was never a female ruler, and it was about time, some things to change. There are knights in women and in the Kingsguard, the Dames prosper, but never before on the North’s Throne was sitting a woman. He knows he won’t live for that long. His time is ending, and for some other people to take his reins, where he stalled, let us continue, what he begot, let the others be the ones who will finish it to the End of Days, the Old Wolf knew, he still has got some bets to make, he is holding her hand. Could almost touch, nearly feel it and it hurt because it was sensing so real. Spoke out!

- Rhaenyra. – Yes, Lord Godfather? – Don’t ever change yourself for others, do it for yourself only and even if it is meaning, sacrificing some of your old life, do it. Trust me, do not hold onto which that doesn’t serve you. – I am still a small girl. I can at any time become an orphan…and be nobody. – Well, what do you say about me, as a Wildling and look at me? – You are a man. – That is your excuse? – shocking her, simply as that.

- Once when you stop comparing yourself with the better of you and when you go out from the man’s shadow, that is when your Life starts to flower, for now, it is still just budding, and you are the late bloomer just like your father. You are the blossom who grows from the stone, not wood, your roads are one of the hardest, and there is the legend that says, that those who waited, they blossomed into something that might not enrapture, but it will enchant the world and anybody who knew where to find you will stay entranced. For not all what shines is gold.

He is becoming the best version and interpretation of himself, that was true. She took it to her heart and henceforth, she lived such for the rest of LIFE.

- No matter what happens or life throws at me…
- You stay who you are, what makes you strong – he cuddled her with his hands and she was the tiny snugness into his wolfish arms. It was time to find another egg and here it was, they just walked into it. She placed it into her small sack and they are ready to move on. By now, every single soul was in Citadel’s gardens, searching for Dragon Eggs. What will they do it with all of these Eggs? Leave it or…let it come with them? That was risky to say, in the least. – I am worried. Syrax will be sad and her silly mate. – This is because the children belong with their parents, but… it will be for the best and the safest for them to stay here. Let them watch over the Citadel.

Will the parents assent to it? They might, she feels it so, because Syrax is still too young and so are Anca, there will be time, and this is their legacy to Martel House which, underneath all, suffered too much and far implausible to ever be understandable for everybody or any who can watch from the sidelines. These Dragon Eggs are rather their sole chance of survival. And what if there are no Riders? They will be raised, and learn to be devoted also!

- What do you think, how many more? We found three. – It sums up six then, I believe there are plenty. She is the healthiest Dragon I have had a chance to know. – Heh, the Black doesn’t fall behind her. – But yours is the Supreme and Grand Matriarch! – Rhaenyra giggles, yes, Syrax was one very special life who was living her best, the best she could, not spending the time on silliness, but doing something about it. Even if it is small to someone, to her, it was all. It was settled, all Dragon Eggs are gifts to Martel House, for surviving, for being Haven for the needful and for suffering them as their guests. Oberyn would be glad. He had got his children! They both chuckled. For the Great Search is soon concluded!

Counting started. Jon was personally numbering and numerating. The whole brood was consisting of 25 eggs. In total. Wow. This was the largest litter of the Dragon Eggs which are ever propagated between two Dragons, usually it is just one or three eggs, regarding why there are innumerous other breeding mares among Dragon people and Elves, specialized for giving birth to both Eggs and Children, while on the top of the venerated subspecies were King or Queen bees with their Breeders.

The very nasty and repellent notions. And Surax together with Anca, without no one’s help or someone from sides who would urge them to mate, with no pressure were able to reproduce easily and fruitful. Healthy and most fertile the two. How is this possible?

- It must be because it is our blood – Jaime remarks, getting better than ever with his mind which was clouded as Hell – and I am so sorry for my outburst and the performance out there, earlier… - Jon smirks, looking at him.
- Jaime, I would protect your life not just because I gave a promise to your father even though he wanted to end… - Jaime swallows hard – for I would do it anyway. You mean so much to me. Not just respecting you for your duties at which you are most impeccable and trustworthy, but even when you are at your lowest, regardless what sparked it, I am just like you said, there to watch your back. We watch each other’s back. Not just doors which are your specialty and the greatest honor you never regretted to this day and you still, had the hours and badass audacity to make children, from the woman we learned was your true sister, twin – upon these words, Jaime looks away, he already did it when it was hard for him. He is the stupidest and the most emotional Lannister, after all.

- You talk a lot. Jon Snow. I was right when I said, some gag would look good on you, to fix some things. – And you in my bondage – both laughed heartily. – Besides, we may take some rest. The night is coming. – Tomorrow morning, then? – Yes. Everybody else is being already in their sleeps, because this was a Hell of the Day, only the two of us are still sleepless and sleepwalking whiles the Citadel dreams. – We have their all sorts of flames or blazes and motley lights to shine our roads, back to the bedchambers. – Early, but we do. Brienne waits for you, tomorrow is a new day, this one is complete and was full of everything you can think of. Sleep well – Jaime nods cordially before Jon halts him. – And I visited you every day and night, when you are asleep, and Brienne and your child were by your side, Sir.

Jaime was speechless. Jon Snow straights up. Just staring at the beauty of Elf could bewitch you. There is the proverb, that you should never stay for a very long in the presence of Elf, talk to…It or mostly not look at his eyes longer than it is necessary, because, unthinkingly and unknowingly, you are offering yourself to the inevitability to become enamored, falling for or infatuated with them, even with the family. This was something innate for every human being and can happen to everyone. Jaime bows. Appearing as a dream of all visions in his Kingsguard’s golden cloak and the armor of Lion. He likes to stay formal whenever there is a chance. His walk is not only improved, it was back to the normality. Swirling around, hems of cape had danced.
*
It is true…he is prettier than even someone’s daughter…Tormund’s words…of Spirits and Souls.
*
Each heart searches for the Stone Eggs…this is where lies the greatness and upon its touch, hatched are Dragons. Where you go, everyone follows, the North arises. We do not step away, we hold your back, irregardless how you are brought back, you have us under your protection.

There are Gods, but only one is Eru Iluvatar. AllFather, birthed by a Womb of Mother Nature.

Chapter 114: For no reason other than Light

Chapter Text

Vassals of the Shadows were on the move and no one was there to know, to sight it, it was there unseen. During the conquest of the Heart of the King, Jon had to make a talk with his own Dragon. He wasn’t going to sleep. He can’t, not ever or nevermore. He maybe was the Elf, but still the Targaryen blood was running through him, saying, you must sleep. We are different. However, if he doesn’t want to, he won’t. Therefore, Jon Snow will most likely daydream with his purple eyes wide open while finding his little one how he sleeps beside his tiny mate as well and who was perhaps bigger, but no less affectionate and adorable, nestling and nuzzling against him whiles he protected.

Little silver Lady of Golden Lions, Rhaenyra never left her alone or they slept without each other, but it was time for both girls to join the world of growing up separately while doing it together, holding each other in their hearts lovingly. It was even a wonder as the relief that they left their children here to defend the Citadel. They will hatch, but who knows when they will really grow, transform or will be able to instantly minimize themselves. Every Dragon is for itself. This is why it was essential this to be done.

He hated that he must wake him, yet never take him far away from his petite mate, thus, he just woke him by his mind powers and Ancalagon moves up, looking around, in confusion, until his glare doesn’t fall upon the black boots and the man cladded in black, it really is his color, with the armored body of the falling dark cloak that was touching the calves of his legs. With a warm smile, he signaled to him that he wished to have some family conversation with him. The Dragon was too much independent, unruly and wild…just like him.

Both of them didn’t acquire any kind of too much affection and yet, when they did, they just go for their hearts and take, this is how he acted around his Sigrid, and now, around his Dragon, careless of how it will affect the world. They must wrap up around their heads that the world doesn’t revolve around them. Not far from the tiny nesting place, Ancalagon, jumps into his lap, cuddling together with his Master and Rider. Who would assume this one was the Devil Incarnate, during the course of lightening Water Gardens’ falling nights.

- Hey, honeybee, I had no time nor I deemed it would be requiring, but I see, this is something we have to settle amongst each other.

- What is it, Jon?! You feed me rightly, I drink from the spring wells, just the way you taught me and I stay out of trouble – his tiniest confusing head, was twirling like a spade, alike the dinosaur who resembled someone who knew he did right and for it…he has obtained the Talk, unaware how much his squeaky and small voice was endearing Jon Snow, particularly because he was his. He couldn’t believe it still.
Having a Dragon. Never asked for it, even if in the smallest part of his cornered feelings, he was dreaming a dream of flying on the Dragon as well as riding Direwolves, henceforth, he pats him slightly, somewhat, distinctly, watching him with all the love he could give to his other self. Of Will and Flesh, his black Dragon, to the fullest, not even a speck of other color, Anca was the very embodiment and personification of himself.

- My Ancalagon ... – Hey, what happened to the honeybee?! I like it? – Really? – I do! Call me, honeybee, once you say many name, it sounds…troubling.

- Heh…well, you did something that is similar to…a trouble.

- I made love! When is that…a wrongdoing!? I just loved! I do everything out of love! I did a good thing! – oh, Anca…they were both the same.

- The people don’t see it in that way. Even our love, must be constricted. This Earth is not enough for our…hearts. – That is bullsh*t! – Anca…you could…restrain yourself.

- Why would I? Why would you?! – he flips and leaps, rejoicing Jon in doing so. – You should have 9 sons and 9 daughters, and yet, you are settling yourself with average. We are not…average! – You see, this is what is called the arrogance. The syndrome of God. You have to learn to live with the other beings by controlling your impulses. You can’t go around and do whatever you want, that is not the way any Life works – the little honeybee curls up, his feelings were hurt.

- You don’t allow me to have proper sex – Jon was about to fall down from where he was sitting. – No! Just…your appetites, have got to be equally shared. You understand. – I am not a monk! – Ancalagon the Black. My command is final – the little one got scared to the point that he spreads his wee wings and snarls at Jon Snow. – No! – the Dragon roars with his baby roaring.

- I said…No! – upon that, he aimed his maw to scare Jon Snow instead, which only ended in the silly try to threaten his own Master, Lord and Rider. – No is No. Learn it now or you may die sooner than you think, honeybee – this did have an effect and he returned to his brooding. – How long do you intend to sulk at me?! – As long as I have a need!

Jon rolls his eyes. This was his retribution, the Dragon even pouted in the same like he did, in the corner while watching how the Life passes by, ah, no, he won’t have it with his own child of Dragonblood, so he petted him tenderly, to thaw him for him, but Ancalagon the Black was playing the hard egg to break. Then, he grasped it, starting to feign he is crying until the black honeybee sprang at Jon’s tears, licking them away, making him feel distressed!
- Don’t do it ever again! – Jon’s holds him in his Dragon palms. – I won’t – he winks. – You tricked me. – I did! – You are a fox! – No, the Wolf.

The Dragon promised he won’t ever again glower at Jon Snow! Never again to see his Rider cries, albeit, those weren’t the real tears, yet he questioned.

- How do you originate or procreate those tears of yours, are they of salt and flame, and where they come from?! – Hm…emotions and it all comes from the heart. – Is the heart so significant in our lives, Jon Snow? – You may never find out how much. – But…Jon…how do I know then…everything and I speak with ease?! – You are a part of me, that is why. You stemmed from me. – How did you do it?! – I don’t know. Little One…I wish I knew, honeybee.

- You never think deeply, deeper…I mean. – I don’t understand. – Do you believe in what they say, what you hear and what you are? The Dark Angel? Lucifer? The Fallen, or Aegon the Conqueror? Or this Promised King they all converse about or something promising…among all other things, some Christ figure? – To tell you the truth, perhaps, I was all of that, but now I am Jon Snow, but if this is what puts the humanity at rest, then, who am I to take it away? See, this is what I was conveying to you. Honeybee. – I still don’t get it. Then, what am I? – You are my Dragon. – And you are my Jon Snow?

- I am. We are one! – this one loveable creature who could bring down all the living into the ashes, endears his gladdened and heartened delights, he was warming and waking the reassurance that everything must be all right during which they are persuading Gods and the Demi ones, for only one stays elating the darkest of our nights who turned into the never ending days, the Head and the Prevailing Prime, Allfather of us, hereafter both the Black and Jon bloomed a kindred love.

For one Sand Snake was from the safe distance, observing it all. Ellaria, the Queen of the Citadel and the Princess to her Prince. She has to warn Jon Snow, she moved toward him when all of a sudden, she feels that Presence of the blackest daylight there is, in which it wants to enfold the Life as it was known.

First, there were lots of them, around her, until it hasn’t been embodied into the one averse to whom she stayed out of breath. In the flesh, Celebrimbor. The Dark Elf Prince was staring back at her in the straightforward style. He deceived them. Thinking it is Rhaenyra or Jon after whom he is, but they were verily mistaken. Sure, he will remove the largest threats out of his way, save the very upmost, he is making his point more than clear. It was unneeded for her to come to her own realization.
He craved for her powers, she was the Key behind the Citadel’s impenetrable position, well, then, all he needs to do is to penetrate in. If he isn’t wrong?! For the Citadel was in sleep and the night was long, the moonless, lowering were the guards down, below the touching grounds. What confounded him is the wrongful conception that he could get to her so easily. Ellaria brings up her shielding forces, countering his One Ring. Only then and now, Jon Snow along with his dragon and the very ones who were still unsleeping, sensed the darkness.
*
- Hey, what the two of you are doing here, sleepless? – Haldir and Tauriel could ask him the same questions. – We are Elves, we do not sleep, unless we want to, until then we are duly wakeful and daydreaming with the open eyes. Targaryens are the Ones who sleep, although that is also questionable – Haldir explains, and Tauriel supported. – You can’t sleep, Sir Jaime? – A wish is unto me. I am needing to speak with you, My Lady.

*
Keep the Brides Of Hell from devouring the Death. Children of the Forest, beware. From his own tears, Azor Ahai came to life, from the black blood, ascend will the Night. Says, High Priestess. The Others with the Great King of Night live on! Yes! Night King is incited within!
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Our Daughter and Son of Forest, protect the King with his King’s Guard. The Sand is the bait.
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From the runts, nurtured to the magnificence.

Chapter 115: Cajole

Chapter Text

Of stone and salt, once upon a great time, there was the world such as that. It was the realm where everyone is happy and where the mysticism is all what occupied everyone’s mind. In one of these life spheres, everybody peeks when we dream and when we wake up, it wasn’t just a dream, it was the casting of all manifestations to come. Out of tiredness, out of despair. Never before someone would opine that the wisdom rests in where we do not never dare to deem, such was fate of Lannisters, indeed. Jaime was the first among all others who came before him and the ones who will be next, they will know who issued the forging alliance between their house and the Elves and from that tie, the others will come later on. What is sown, was reaped.

- My Lady, if you have a moment. – Of course… - Haldir, don’t go…I wish you here also, My Lord – the Wood Elves, the Silvan breed were at odds together with the Lannister. – How can we be of assistance? – It is about Jon…I don’t know, my heart is restless. I am outright uncertain if this speaks to you something or if it is some meaning? – Tauriel comes toward him. – How restless? – I just…Tauriel…I don’t think that is our Jon, something is terribly…just erroneous about him. – Tell us, the example? – Haldir persuaded him.

- When you bond…you bond on the spiritual level, when we first met Tauriel, it was unnecessary for you to befriend her in person, while we all others had to near her closer. – That is true, she is my fellow sister, my kin. I love her very much with all the respect I nourish for her and vice versa – Tauriel blushed – we are not that much into the touch, except when it comes to intimacy, otherwise, it is as you claim. – Ah…so you stalk? – What?! I beg your pardon… - Tauriel hoped he would say something redeeming – we Lurk! – Tauriel facepalms. – And those days are far from over, nevertheless, how you take it, but for the Elf to stalk, instead to hunt? It is the same like you are saying that we are all co*ckless! – she clears her satin throat. – What? Tauriel?

- Eh, dear Haldir, I am…co*ckless. – Oh, no…I didn’t mean… - Men…it is all about co*cks with you. – No, no… - now both tried to discourage her from going to the full feminist mode. – Sorry, this went on the wrong side – sheepishly Jaime stated. – I understand. Your pride is your everything, this is something where the woman must not ever look or too much…explore. But, you have to be specific with us. Jaime. – Jon…he did it. – What did he do?! – Haldir was good at politics or when it comes to magic, still, this sounded to him like the occultism is undertaken and this is Tauriel’s territory, she listened very carefully, more than usual.

- He walked into our bedchamber quietly into the dead of all nights, we were powerfless, oblivious of what is transpiring all over the place, our room, our sheets, our covers, with my child – bearing wife and my child…and he watched us, all he needs are his elven eyes to see what we do not, his human looking yet, elven ears that hear what we do not sense, and to taste what is not to be there – putting the emphasis which resounds on each word, it was the abnormal behaviour, is Jon still inside and fights… - …I mean… is that…normal demeanor for the Elf? I thought…it is that side, but the more it is bugging me, the more I have no rest, I am not at ease – at first, two Elves just observed him, blinking, about what he has just uttered.

- Have you asked him his name? – to Tauriel, this was a sign, a big one. – What do you hint at? He is… our Jon – he chuckles smugly. – Jaime…can he tell you his name? – this dawned on Jaime…well, actually, whenever he was mentioning his name, he didn’t react to it. – Some of birds told me…that he is right now with his dragon and he is himself. – But with you, and around us or the family, he isn’t? – He is stalking, like a stalker…he never did that.

- He told you that?! He intentionally, mouthed it? I can’t even…vocalize what I…

- Listen, I can turn the blind eye and just leave it, but…something is happening with him, with the Citadel and I have a feeling, that it could happen right away in front of our noses and we wouldn’t even sense it. What does it tell you? – Tauriel’s ears went red, like all red, tomato color, she looks somewhere in the distance where horizons met, sealines and earthlines akin to the twins. The night has come. And all the lights were decorating the Water Gardens to the fullness. Haldir became rather stressed upon seeing her reaction, more disturbed than ever he is.

Her responses were uncannily representing oddities, and reminded him of something they forgot. All what she could verbalize to the men was the truth.

- He is here – the dread what they dreaded the most… – Who?! – Tauriel gazes up at Jaime. – He has him, Jaime, our King. The one you spoke to, it wasn’t in fact Jon. How did you responded to him? - now when he recalls it, it was so much tempting. Never before he was so tempted to sleep with…Oh, God. He possessed him?! Do they need…both stares fell on her. – Tauriel, are you an exorcist? – she is taken by surprise.

- I know just in theory, but never practice!

Well, it is about time for her to practice, fast! Jon totally was overtaken, watching his little Dragon how he nestled back to his chosen mate for all times.

- Anca… - whisperings.

- My Lord? – he lifts up his tiny horned head to look at him.

- Are Rhaenyra with her…mother? Alone?

- Yes, she is, oh my Syrax is so exhausted, we must both rest!

- Do not worry, my little ones, rest well, let me take care of everything for you – he winks, with the eyes of Jon Snow, the voice of the King and the bearing that holds his stem, turning around on his heel while he is smirking in the direction where Ellaria was being prevented, and cornered to offer the appropriate response due to the darkened circ*mstances. This was the re-embodiment of reincarnation. Howsoever, on the wrong bitch he had struck!

- You are far too smart for your own good. Celebrimbor, but never too mighty to overthrow me on my terrain – she stood her ground. Resisting. Standing firm up to him and preserving in the face of unhallowed menace. Holding out against the Darkness of his shadows while he bites, tempts her and entices her with the sex appeal and all the allure of one Elf he truly and remarkably possessed so.

- You have attracted the scorn on you. The Sand Snake, you thought you could best me? What a hollow illusion you had of me… and now I ask you, my dearest, am I everything you could ever picture in your… mind? – he was. Because he embodied himself in his most beautiful image that was embellishing what he incarnated and the imaging what he mirrored back into her realities.

Blood is bled from her nose, this was becoming too much for her too bear whilst he was treading slowly, slower than intended, taking his time.

Talking.

- I don’t require a mouth to speak, you hear me in your head…

- Get out of my head! Out of my mind!?

- Sweet Ellaria – the way he says it - tell me, what is the threshold of your pain, but the real agony, not the anguish you live every day when you are fearing to live the worst fear of all, the Downfall of Citadel, not that, but the truthful one. You were dreaming about me. How I come and take everything from you – she doesn’t yield, he was closer.
- Why are you like this, my fair Lady? Is your skin that of the human or the legit Snake? Are your lips that much poisonous? Hm? People treated you cruelly, you and your kind, however, the times are changing and you are of the free speech, this is what you, all the time, longed for, your voices back to you, to be heard, not silenced, and in here, there is enormously and rightly teeming with the sound of silence, though, it wasn’t your kismet – his voice is lurid, it was cajoling her to shiver to her marrow bones, bristling her hair on the humanoid skin, he saw it, not through, to the bottom as it was destined - alas, you are all with suicidal tendencies, probably, this is why humans love to bite their tongues, but thoroughly gagged, you stay alive, so…kiss me, Ellaria, is your cavern that of the venom or roses? – Come closer...My Lord and you will see it for yourself!

What a deadly woman. My dearest Lady of all, when it comes to the Conquering the Might. The Serpent, the Viper, the Snake. All in her is epitomized!

- I am before you. What are you going to do now? – all that time he was speaking, she was opposing, never her snake potencies are out of her reach, having full of control she mastered, harness and now through channeling she conjures, she was bracing herself, strengthening her whole life and this was the moment she materialized, through the fears he rules. – The storm is upon us – she glimpses and yes, the scariest is ever born.

He is controlling its mightiness, inuring the majesty of his dreamland, drawing from it, the sleeping enchantment he puts them all under, the thralldom they all fall to, falling for the dark, for this is what he does. The ones who stay awake were lucky, possibly due to ruddy runes of Ellaria Sand that are withstanding, but not for long. Wherever Dragons are, specially mystery in them, nearby, the magic is empowering everything around, it is the strongest in their presence, rekindling and growing the charms and spells, and the earthly chants and incantations, are not tricks or ruses, they are the witching hour of deception. Bringing back all the glories, and the strongest magic in the appearance of the bearers of sorcery. The Arts of each craft in the world.
*
Just because the Silvan are the first of kind who abandoned the old ways and laws of Elves, doesn’t meant that the seduction stops, becoming outcasts.
*
Higher Mysteries of the Devoid, Elves interweave magic into all they do, create and so remove…blood is coloring the snow… as it goes the legend, the Mightiest fall first, the unassumed assume the reins.

Chapter 116: Stakes

Chapter Text

The Eternal Storm, this is how it was named, because the dwellers should have been widely awakened, yet, they weren’t. It was the power of One Ring, but there were those who had seen it from the far. From the House of the Dragon to Valinor. It was one of the most horrendous and monstrous storms ever to be sighted. Everybody will not dare or possess the nerve to intrude.

And they knew, the debt must be paid, choking in blood. Flaps of the stupendous Shadows, grotesque claws are the mirages, shades are breathing fire, it was the heavy roar from within of all sources, looming. And only the few stood in the way of the Madness, as it is, the unintended.

The cosmic thunderbolts never woke other people or living beings of the Citadel, but it has been Brienne of Tarth, the lightning is protruding through everything where the light dwelt. She straightened up in her…their mutual bed. No Jaime…no…Rhaenyra?! In distress and care, she was inspecting the empty place, from the sleeping mattress, to the other objects, maybe she is playing some prank, joke or the stunt on her?! Where was she?! Where is the child?! Deranged, just in her nightgown, she went into the search for the daughter she took as her own. Rhaenyra!

The vacant halls were distressing her even more, and without the answer to her calls, Brienne feels how the sanity leaves her mad. Where is the f*cking Jaime?! Now, when she needs him! Wait…turn around, someone told her.

Who is this? Weakly, yet strong voice?! She took the turn, and she had what to witness. Jon Snow how he holds Rhaenyra by the hand. She is stupefied on her feet, the eyes are staring at the void.

- Jon…- she breathes in shallows, hardly taking the necessary breath into her deprived breasts – what are you doing? – firstly, there were no answer and then, when she takes another step, he responds.

- Jon is your God?

- What?!

- Well, he isn’t here. He is busy. So, how may I help you? I am always at your service – it went through her mind.
The memories of the Lord and Lady Hands of Old Gods, of the Lady Elf of theirs, of the Dragon Ladies and Lords, of the specific one who haunts her no more. Occurring to her, flashing across her deceptive mind. Eregion…Hollin, of the two realms, one upper that bathes in the dayspring, and another one, that is underworld of the kingdom, where the Shadows lie..., still, the starlit visions of the silverlight besieged her, of the starry and stellar glittering, studded with the fantasized and unearthly sheens. Incarnating and concretizing the Huntress who comes to avail, and this is what he coveted to evade by killing Rhaenyra, the future Black Queen, them to Kill Jon for it, Jon will let them do it out of guilt and severe shame, afterwards he claims everything, including the Citadel and its dwellers and the Dragons as the triumphant prize.

- Are you…the one they call…the Lord of the Rings? – the voice of hers is quivering. - You who took upon himself all the Darkness of the Universe? The Dark Lord, the Second Coming of Satan?! The one they baptized as the Silver Hand?! Lord Celebrimbor of Feanorians?!

- This is what they call me – the gasp stalls in her dried throat - but who am I? To you, who stands so valiantly to the front of myself? Well, that is complicated as you see. – Please, let her go…don’t hurt either of the two… - You can come with me, if you crave for it, there is always the place for a woman such as you are for my dominion, for you see, my Elves love Power and they devour it, ravening upon the flesh of the innocence.

- Will that…be sufficient of the blood sacrifice? – It is never satisfying, but it does all in your favor, grace and mercy. – The same voice, the face and you…overtook him?! How?! – He suffered enough, don’t you think? Even so, you are allowing him to suffer longer, prolong the suffering and what about her? – clenching around her small hand, she winces, can’t even make a move or voice a sound. – What have you done to her?!

- Nothing at all, my dear, just a tad of subjugation, it always did me good and all the marvels of this fallen and broken world. You see…you only reckon how it was or what it is, but I tell you, beneath all the struggles and the travails, this planet and Life of it, is ugly. I am repulsive under my elven skin, for in my blood, only the cleansing spirits reside. – You are the Evil as it was promised. – No…for the Life has no meaning without the Death, no intent or no sense, what is the point of your purpose then? Just the mindless aims. But, what are questions, other than how you define your puny and meager dreams to those who have no desire for it. They are AfterLife. – Please…stop f*cking hurting her! – she observes how he clutches at her and she can’t even scream. – She is just a small girl, just the little one…

- Who will grow up, come to age. I can’t let Lannisters or any of his mongrel humanity seize such a power that is unbecoming for you. – You are Beast! – upon saying it, he smiles by a shadowy glint, yes, oh, exulted in it to the fruitfulness, darkly and really deeply, this was his Game, vanishing with Rhaenyra. Because she refused him, this is going to be…no, no…she was too much of the resistant capabilities and of the strong personality, she ought to find some! But everywhere she went, in all directions, there was nobody to help her. She must find Jaime, where was he?! Somebody, once again, was speaking softly to her, and she wonders, who the f*ck he or she was? Only for her to rush into him. It was…Sam?!

- Shush, Brienne, Celebrimbor doesn’t know I am here. Just listen to me. – How are you here?! – I am the Empath, which means, I feel as the Muse does. My body is really here, but the mind is on each side, so…I mean…I was never becoming better at explaining things. Yet, just let me fill you with the Greater Knowledge, and you will understand, before we proceed. – Proceed what?! Sam?!

Trust me and as though it was ordained, she was letting him go in the tiniest crevices of the great works of the brains. Thus, expounding to her what is taking place, right there and then. They were all, up to now, in the state of fantasizing worlds. What it has meant? The Citadel is standing, but he breached it, breaking through its barriers. How? On the day of the 4th Bloodmoon. He hid himself in Jon too and upon the arrival, his webs were being woven and little by little, no one detected until it was too late. She just needs to follow his guidelines. Bettering himself, improving the learned abilities of his, and through this mystical Craft and with the Light Art, he passed by Celebrimbor, unnoticed. Not for long as it goes, One Ring is detecting him.

- I should have never left you, but my physical body, perchance, can’t follow you, but I stay eternally by your sides. My mind goes where organic reality can’t wade. You will know also. I couldn’t tell or astral explain until today. I am sorry. Currently, take heed to my counsel and guidance. Does this sound well to you?! – Good, fairly fine and I am so glad…

- Please, don’t cry…

- These are tears of happiness for seeing you! We missed you so much. Jon needs you! How could you leave us, do this to him, be so ignorant, we would protect you and care as we at any time did and he needed you and you weren’t there! You truthfully opined that you are unimportant!

- There is no time…
- And when will it be! You left him! This would never happen if you weren’t the one who ate his heart! What is left of him?! You took it all! It stayed and went with You! Sam! It is all your fault and I don’t care how it looks like or what is to be brought about, nor if it is the hour, when will it be if not now?! I have got to say it or I shall burst! You took advantage of his good heart! You selfish, unashamed tiny worm! Are you truly thinking that such a man, great as he is, can ever survive without people like us?! NO! YOU IDIOT! With all your intelligence, you turned out the dumbest of all peoples!

Sam’s heart was shattered in the millions of petite pieces. He made a mistake, but he loves his new life with her and he wronged Jon, he will make up to it. He promises it to Eru and everyone. And when she said, that Jaime would most likely cut him down if it weren’t for Jon’s heart, for such betrayal, but he refrained and there is a lot of willpower for such a man, as Jaime Lannister, to restrain himself, the anointed knight and Sir, it goes too with Lord Bolton and her as Dame, including the rest. All in all, she composed herself, for the sake of the tomorrow that should arrive at their doorstep, somehow and somewhat, even feeling release of what was festered inward her, this was freedom she longed for, sensed so lighter, following precious Sam’s lead.

With no blood to sacrifice, I sacrifice Black Queen…you have no power over me. Delightful. And oh, whom do we have here? Whom did I get? The Librarian, disguised as the cook. Masterfully. By the time, Brienne reached Jaime and their Elves, Ellaria was plainly wearied down, sensing she is worn off, he is using her up and there was no chance, just the risks she takes along with the danger, can’t hold him off. Should divert the tactics and strategy. Abusing the last of her stand, she disappeared into the thin air before he could clench his clutches around her. No, she is not giving you Eastern Citadel.
*
Our King of the North, don’t abandon us, your gift of death is life.

Chapter 117: The Queen of Sand

Chapter Text

Indeed, it is as it was told. Whenever the powers in Elves reach the heyday, then, even the instrumentality of evolution in each human or House, for which is given, evolve along with all others. Now, let me tell you a story why it is like this, and it doesn’t have to do anything or be with the privilege or the specialness, no.

It is about the survival after all. One everyday human doesn’t heed or mind the positions or images, others who have everything to lose, pay attention and so, we are coming to what is the most obvious. The Elves take great care of you, love you, even if there is nowhere to hide, they find you. Brienne was feeling the weight and heaviness of her pregnancy, it doesn’t stop her. A tough warrior, but with Jaime, she is his woman, may be just herself. In the finest riches and emblazoned lives Elves enclose you in. Nonetheless, how the civilizations were progressing, so were and such languages, speeches and all kinds of tongues, hence in the midst of them, rises one who bonded it all.

Feanor, Artificer of the Great Jewels who caught the Light of Valinor Tress into their beauty, the Silmarils and around whom the Life of Arda was designed, entwining us all together so. Then, came the Seeing Stones and his magnum opus arrived. Tengwar, the Alphabet of all living characters and letters joined in.

From it, the others were contrived. It is the world and well known ancient Quenya of Valinor, then Sindarin of Middle Earth (Greys), Valyrian and its High with all the nuances inside and the common tongue we all speak universally, then at last, comes the Black Speech of the creatures who were breeding in the shadows and in its Sister Dark.

- Brienne! What are you doing out here?! – Jaime scoops her into his lion’s arms.

- I am pregnant, not of sugar! And… - as soon as his eyes were laid on Sam, he couldn’t stand it any longer, not anymore, punching Sam so hard in the face that the poor guy almost is left mutated, Brienne, hit Jaime across his thick head, drawing out a loud “ouch” from him.

- Are you normal?! You are about to kill him! – she helps Sam on his feet who was dazed from the shock and pain, so, he still can feel the throb if it is channeled professionally, his all teeth also were near to fall off, ah, this wasn’t astral projection, this was projecting his reality into their own, called manifestations, but no one warned him that it still hurts.

Barely holding himself up in front of the enraged lion.
- How did you get in?! Were you following us?! What is the story of your survival or…ah, I get it, the powers of Muse. Well, I was this close to betray you to the Noldor (North) Elves, the highlanders of their own caliber or merits, but I didn’t, just for Jon’s sake, not Yours! – Jaime shows all his other side for everyone to see and hear. Tauriel and Haldir were fearful to interfere between the Lion and his prey. – Stop it, Jaime, let him speak, he led me and…let me tell you.

- SILENCE, my Brienne! I am not finished with him! – You won’t act like this toward me or treat me… - The Hell, Brienne, just for once, don’t meddle yourself with my business – she falls into silence, he was more serious than ever, she swallows hard, leave it be while she stays to guard Sam’s life.

- Why are you back?! You are freed of us! This is what you begged Jon! – I keep my word… - To whom?! – Sam was obviously frightened, dark side of Jaime Lannister is surfacing in the direst of all moments of his life. - Please…Jaime, we are comrades. – Come back. – What?! – That is the only way I can forgive you. I am not letting you near, our King, not even for a second… - No…I have… - She could come along. – And to do like what?! I mean…I don’t understand you, maybe you got the Black on your side, but without the proper army there is no way to defeat Celebrimbor or lay siege to Eregion…

- I see, you willed to side sitting, sit and wait when all goes to Hell to come forth. – Jaime…I am not answering to no one… - Jaime punched him again and this time, the whole lower part of the jaw would fall if, presently, he wasn’t powered up. – JAIME LANNISTER. It won’t change anything! – I feel better. That does it! I would throw him in irons and gagged, he would only speak when I give him permission, not a word I want to hear from this traitor’s mouth just because he FOUND LOVE, keep him on water and stale bread and after I come, he should have been well humbled for the betrayal! – He didn’t betray Jon!

- He did himself, that is the same! – Then, it is all right as long as he serves, but when he demands… - We all serve, beloved Brienne, and when everyone would do whatever the f*ck they want…you lose your King! – Brienne couldn’t get it back at Jaime, nor hold out for long to oppose him, it was always like this when they argue about politics, he always wins, during this all, Sam withstood, it could be worse, holding back his salty tears of hurt. – And cry, I want to enjoy them as much as I relish your torments of inner heart. I command you. – Jaime…Sir… you are not cruel, please…you don’t hate… you just feel too much and with that Dragon half heart of Jon’s, it is all making you extensively mad, and you want me to kneel, to break and bend me? I am already tamed… even so, fine, I will…just please…let us help…, let me…aid you – after hearing it, Jaime was most pleased. – You are not staying?

- You are purposely tearing me asunder, don’t torture me no longer – Jaime snorts at Sam, releasing him of his oath thus. Goddamn, he is certain that Lord Bolton got it even though he was also brooding, but by Jaime…he passed the test. – Sir Jaime… - Lannister… - Knock it off…Jaime! – Ugh, fine! Sir Jaime is just excellent and now, speak! – after this, Sam forgot what…- I can’t cooperate under these conditions.

- CALM DOWN, JAIME, on the eve of falling, slipping and losing your way, or I am shooting you with my coated daggers in venom and it won’t be nice!

- Brienne, whenever you threaten me, deathly, your shining beauty comes to the emphasis, shines so brightly, I must ravish you all over again, strip you and lock you into my castle where I would keep you happily ever after – Elves facepalmed, really, amidst all and amongst all other things…even snow initiated and rain issued, blended jointly. This was Jaime, but that other side, is Jon’s. Targaryens and Lannisters. The same coin of opposite sides. Sam won’t be able all the time to be with them whenever they are in need for him. It is why Brienne surrendered, her husband is lost, bending her to his will, just letting him do whatever he intended.

- Our dear Sam… - He took your daughter and walked away with Jon’s body. – Wha…and when did… - You were busy with slaying my God IN ME, you made it, I let you own me and do with me what you want and to what you were dead set on, and lash out your wrath on me, I endured stoically and no worry, I will heal by myself and you are relieved to feel better upon doing so! – upon this traumatizing shocks, before could react fitly, Ellaria incarnated to the front. The glistered sand was trickling and the venomous snakes were slithering in the aimlessly dance when she was materialized in body.

This was Citadel’s Queen and Martel’s chosen and bonded mate. Ellaria Sand, she rarely shows up and when she does, you are becoming the Believers!

- You feel nauseous, girl – a halt.

- I am more than good, but this situation…sickens me.

- The baby responds to it – nonetheless, that the Citadel is under the attack, her lark voice and the absence of the presence when she reveals, is taking them all from their breaths. – Drink this, it will get you to feel lighter.

- Thank you… - You have our jointed gratitude – Jaime expresses, in the state of the purest shape of frenzy.

- Prior to doing something unwise, mindless and hasty, listen to me warily, I have no desire to repeat myself, and I am heedful of all what transpires. I urge you to lessen your instincts and merely breathe. I insist for she is safe, for now, as is your Jon, Your Princess and King, now, Lady Elf…, you are intriguing to me. You engross with your latent probabilities. You are potent, persuasive and fearsome when you want to be and it says more than I could count, the same goes with all of Silvan, you are boundless, as your fellow Elf also.

- Yes, my Queen? – I believe you have estimated so far, the very circ*mstances. – I am – Queen turns to Sam. – I need you to uphold my powers, she goes in. – Wait… where? – Haldir as Lord Hand meddles in. – You will avail with your Song too, for she goes into Jon’s subconscious and she needs to find Demon who feeds King, to get him out. It shall be no understatement, gory. However, you can do it, only you, Tauriel, this time, everyone else serve to back you up. – Hey, and what I… - Jaime, you are playing a main role. You ought to remember words which Aegon entrusted when you were delved into phantasms of Old Times and Ancient Domains. - What words!? – It must cross your mind…or we are doomed. The hour is nigh to confront the Dark Lord.

Silvery wetness is enfolding them together. Following Ellaria, they were approaching the revealing Evil in all its right to glorify and in the enriched refinement to rule, having them prepared although there was no higher stake than that of greatness or the grandness which compels not to prove, but only one when all Life is brought to naught. That is to Defend. For there is the name that should be heard and the real form of Celebrimbor. It isn’t that of the beauty and gleam, it is the Beast, the Old Demon, demonic, infernal and nefarious in disdain. Unto Brienne is to conjure her Ice, not by unborn baby, not using, but through the protection and with no sacrifice, at least, the ounce of Ice to conjure, so that, the Greater Arts were realized purely inly.
*
And I saw a Beast, rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns and upon his horns, ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.
*
Blasphemy, give all of yourself to me, because the true creation requires…sacrifice to create…Life. I am no longer your Boy King.
*
Auric cage you are placed in, shakes your bonds of steel. Taking all what Life offers, good and bad, and giving it back assuredly. Dragons grow throughout life, the Rider on the cliff, hunts down the prey, unawares. Snow never to own a human voice, struggles as broken violin.

Chapter 118: Newly found Freedom of the thrilled handmaiden

Chapter Text

How much Mother Nature allows in the wake of the high need, direwolves do. They may never be permitted to heal selves with licking other than cleansing and by their personal metabolism to cure selves, henceforth, if they strain too much, they have to recover because their healing tongues of magical properties are impacting mostly humans, for the Wall as well, permits only those whose heart is North to pass with the chosen partners of theirs.

- You are saying, Sir Daemon Targaryen, though he is the brother of the three, Rhaegar, Viserys and Daenerys, he is also their Great Uncle, and it has got to do with their weird customs? – Meera Reed asked Podrick Payne who both are accompanying their Lord of Riverrun, Edmure Tully, now when Blackfish ran by swimming to the northerly lands due to occupation of Riverlands. For uncounted families left it, leaving them, surrounded by other annexed families, including those of the Dragon, it was more than enormously outlandish to watch the nesting of the real breathing Dragons, of fire and blood, who breathe flame and blaze, how they are literally settling their new homes directly next to Riverrun. Meera and Podrick had a great time observing how a family moves in, that of Dragons and considering that Riverlands stayed almost void of population, there was a lot of empty space which remained, even befriended new neighbors, while for some it was a time of the greater exodus, to them, it was the most exciting moment that ever was. And, during the waiting for their Lord to come out from a meeting with the mentioned Dragon Prince, they were sharing a small talk.

- Yes, but Tullys are even weirder, you heard that Lysa completely renounced, so many years ago her own sister, Queen in the North? – At least, God sent her Osha who replaces her sister. – And in regard to the Dragon House, you did know that Daemon is chimera and Dany is a reincarnated son of Glorfindel, yes, that Glorfindel, except for Daemon, all three share the same surrogate mother, even then, the two brothers are from the different fathers who reportedly died, but aspired to leave their progeny behind. – What a mess and this is something what Glorfindel enforced in, because he is behind it all. It was a clandestine rumor, guarded by the few, now it is the public secret, what happened in between? – You said it yourself, once the positions are solidified, there is no more reason to stay secretive, right.

Meera was plainly elated to be at Dragonstone, the main Outpost of warrior culture as were Targaryen Elves. There is even the word circulating around that very soon she is to be given to one of the Dragon Lords or Ladies, for the mating purposes and as a spouse, of course. Breeding is one of the leading aims among all other things, you know what awaits. She was thinking a lot to whom she will belong. Male or female? She would like to be man.
- What do you think, Podrick, who will be your new Lord or Lady? – You are already assuming. – I don’t. I want to marry and it is all the hype now to be married to a Targaryen! – Since when you follow trends? – From today. This is so awesome. I can’t wait. – Aren’t you…afraid? – Let the blood flow – she giggles joyfully, ensued by the excitement that excitedly was pervading even his stoic character – for they never permit for you to die really, and no pain, no gain! – You are fearsome. I admire you. I am scared like sh*t, but I can’t just…leave Edmure…they…won’t... claim him too or his family? – No, that is the Pact, but everyone else, from serving people or us, who stayed, we are owned by House of Dragon.

She speaks with ease, like it is each morning your typical starting day. Still, he couldn’t deny a fact that he starts being accustomed to Dragonstone too.

- Hey, where are you going? – To walk around! Come with me! – I am not to be snatched yet! You are risking very much! – Come on, guards are everywhere, besides, all is to be sealed, signed and verified, they can’t just like that seize us or…abduct! – You said it as though it is something romantic. – Well, I would enquire if there is something I need to bring with me…that being the case. – Had I known, I would never escort him, but stay at home and no, someone needs to stay, you just go! – I am back soon!

- Like you will, most probably running into one of your precious Targaryens or…some Queens. – Either way! Wait for me! – Ah, look at her, how she sprints and all those guards, already turning their heads after her, ah…we are merely the prey for their clutches and broods! – May I sit by your side? – No, you can’t, I am talking with myself and go away… - eh? What a second, he rises his head up. The Hell! Oh, no. Targaryen, of course, Dragonstone is wallowing in them. – I…am sorry, Sir, this place is taken – in a surprise he was acting rashly and Targaryen Lord smirked at him, sitting by Podrick anyway, regardless of the boy’s feels who became extremely agitated and flustered. Oh, why him?! From all of them that this man could choose, why him?! Meera! Come back!

Targaryen smirks again. She can’t help him now. He lurked enough, and waited his chance, there is no escape. Deciding to introduce himself to the boy.

- You are timid, I like them this way. – Whom?! – this gladdened a Targaryen so dearly. – Like you! – As if I am going anywhere with you… Sir!

Trying to act courageously, only worsened the situation. And who was this Targaryen anyway? This Dragon man! Ugh, Meera, where are you? Damn it.
- You don’t wish for a trouble. – Leave me alone. I have the business to attend and stop reading my mind! – You are an open book. – I am not so.

The hard nut to crack. This is turning him on even more. The boy wasn’t thoughtful, bluntly reckless albeit not careless, oh, he shields up self, so taught.

- Who was your teacher? For he teaches you well. – Lord Edmure Tully, whatever you thought of him, when all goes to sh*t, sorry for language, he will make it right. – In good hands we are all then, no need to worry. – Not at all, and if you touch me, even give me a glimpse, you will be very sorry. – You are serious?! – Yes, I am, whoever you are. My Lord will kick your butt! Save me, because that is what a good Lord does for his people. – Well, then I have to meet him. – Better not, he has the killer intent. – You mean…killing intent?

- Yes, that is it! In his mystical eyes, don’t look for very long or you regret it for the rest of your life! – I am immortal. – Even so! – I am Baelon Targaryen. Nice to meet you as the Queen’s brother. I had my intentions to stay here for a short time, but I found something…overly delightful to spend my time with. – I see... you are some big fish and about whom are you talking?! I am unaware of the third person in between us? – oh, God…Baelon thought to himself during his watch over the boy from whom he can’t extract his bloodily name! This one was precious and had to have him. – Tell me your name, my little one. – First of all, I am not little and the least I am yours! Get away from me! You can’t do Nothing to me. I am able to defend myself too and you are not moving me from this spot, I am waiting for my Lord’s absence to come out. – You mean, presence? – That is it! Let me BE!

Is that so? All right, then some matters in the near future will be addressed, disappearing as fast as he appeared. Wow. In reality he made it! Yes, I win.

Or, leastwise, this is what he thinks. Once you are marked, it goes for life, watching your back all the time, during which, Meera had the time of her life on the Stone Bridge, dancing up and down, up and down, down and up. Shouting and singing. Annoying Hells of Dragon Guards who spoke between.

- She can’t run away, by all means. – Still, please, can someone stall that girl? Have her calmed down? – All eyes are on her, someone always preys and that means, soon, she shows up. – Who, she? – Yes. – She smelt her. – I heard she is saying from miles. – Oh my, that will be entertaining to hear about. – Lele, lele, lele. - She is a terrible singer. Tone deaf. – No one has some stashed gags? – Nope, hey...girl! – Yes?! Sir?
He signals to her to near him. When she does as she was instructed, all delighted, she has herself soldered to a spot, harking and eyeing a Dragon Helm.

- Why don’t you go to the beach, human girl of ours? Enjoy yourself. – But, I plotted for you to find a delight in me! This place is fresh, clear and simply incredible! Imposing! This is my way of thanking you. – Thank you, still you are distracting us. – Aaaa, sorry, then… It is forbidden for me…for us of the serving people to wander around much. – You have our permission. Beaches of Dragonstone are miraculous. There are Guards as well and where would you escape? You have nowhere. – Maybe, I don’t want to run? – Guards laughed among themselves. – We are not sneering at you, but humans all say that until comes the water high. Besides, lively crystalline sand or our glimmering shores freshen every being.

It brightened her all up, thanking anew, earnestly sprinting all the way down, passing by the rows upon rows of the guarding Targaryen warrior knights who would rather grab her to themselves, but they weren’t approved until it is earned. Hence, she gained over time so much more than when she was just a human girl in Riverlands. To Targaryens, she is relevant, her life has a grander sense. In the human world, she is just another who passes by hollow corridors, but in the Dragon realm, she was someone to be loved, not just kept like an animal in a cage or trapped. She wouldn’t mind even a woman, just to have someone to talk meaningfully with no pretense. Upon her wonder – stricken discovery of the spacious sea, a shadow looms over a little one.
*
We call the same Father of us all. You shall love me, that is why you are born to me. My name, inflames the thrill.

Chapter 119: Fishes and Dragons

Chapter Text

The morning star is both the bearer and bringer of Light, not as the Lord of Gifts who showers with its deceptive affection, divine adoration and tempting love. Immortal by Turgon’s potions are many of the humankind, including Lyanna Stark when she was ready and all trying trials by the higher of us are fulfilled, as long as it lasts. For some still held on to the new, not reversing to the old ways which are effective but still remain crueler to a halt.

- I have received your love letter as I am sort of Bride to your House…Lord Prince – Edmure in this powerplay had a standing which was holding the tides at bay and all what Daemon could deem is to leer on the other side of the High Seat.

- It all depends on the perspective of how you wish to be treated. It was just a simple letter.

- No, it was similar to those you use to call your courtiers.

- If you haven’t evaluated it by now, you are ours, mine precisely. I won you, and you decided to stay.

- I must protest. If you take all our servants, who is going to serve us?! You are just demanding and taking…out of 500…we are reduced to mere 50. You just appear and take with you the whole families.

- We have such abundant resources of which you can’t even picture in your mind, for we need humans to prolong our civilization, every life matters and I was very clear, any murder, any punishment or sentence, will be met by Fire and Blood and trust me…my dear…dearest Edmure, all the seven Hells of Old Gods know no fury as the Son of Demon scorned, and I mean it. Riverlands are mine. Riverrun belongs to me. You are only guests in there and as much as I allow you that lordship of yours you maintain. But if I will it, atrocities shall be committed in my name, against you…Fishes. And all lowborns, all of common births and every single breath of human…will be taken away. It is only because of that part of my humanity that still simmers in me, that I am permitting my own leniency, because no one loves more the human race than I do. And there will never be a man who loves you more than self.

- Love? What does it have to do with anything here? – It does with everything. It has to do with all what surrounds you, and all what you could think about is…how someone…is going to clothe an dress you?! Edmure…dear son, if you were my blood…oh…why are you so spoiled?!

- You left us the certain number who barely cover necessities or meet our needs! – Your life is not I, but yourself. You have to learn to serve your being first as I do, and still you haven’t seen that my crown has been felled from my head, dear human.

- The same what you once were… - I haven’t forgotten, this is why I am meek toward you. – And you, truthfully, want me to believe how you are not served or that the majority of things you are doing is by yourself…even washing windows?! – Why not?! I am the most powerful Dragon Lord that ever was and there will be never even one as I am…why would the trivia be beneath me? Anything?! – he stood up, took the broom and began cleaning, until the mopped stopped and he bent over to scoop it with the spatula, tossing it in the garbage bin, leaving it there, someone will already come to pick up the trash and throw it out for the recycling systems or he will do it on his way out. Edmure was just... completely defeated on all fronts, just staring at the Dark Prince of Dragons who sat back in his seat with such ease that he was envying him, and the envy doesn’t suit him at all, nor it fits.

- Was that…God Elf behind your every…training, education and…upbringing? – Yes, he always said, if you are waiting for others to wipe your butt, that is how you are staying, in sh*t. – And now, you are a mortal…gaining the human heart back just as your father? – The apple will never fall far from the three and after my death…all shall see what you were desiring in your lives. We are rejoicing and cheering, but when it happens, remember, someone else takes my place and he or she may not be pretty or kind as I am. – You call yourself pretty?! – Edmure…you are hitting on me since the moment you stepped in here.

- I AM NOT! – Sit down, it is all fine, if you weren’t finding me attractive, then all this about our silver manes and allure would fall into waterfalls. – I love women! – No, you don’t. You love only us when you meet us. This is what your heart confesses, there is no greater love than that toward your Dragon Lady or Lord. Trust me, just, keep your heat to yourself. Your libido is admirable. You have power to tie self to a tree or post, knowing what tempts me!

Everyone falls for it, this is why they are so irresistible, well, at least there is no shame in admitting it. However, his family will not be claimed as others.

- Passions, I love them.

- And what you do not…My Lord?

- Ah, now we are speaking the common tongue.
- I believe that your all God confidence comes also from the certain Golden Flower. – What can I say, there is no greater father than that of Golden Flower and never will, not then, not ever or after. He chose the most beautiful jewel, the heart of the elven world as his home. Gondolin and believe me, there shall never be anything even close to Gondolin…and you are free, like everyone else to visit it. It is open, always for you all, even on Christmas.

- NEVER! And to be…clutched?! – Well, it isn’t so bad, Glorfindel is there… - Not in all Hells and don’t issue with…you never know what you miss or what you did… or it could be you…You are just…serpents in disguise! – You are welcome. I am writing you now my approval to go to Gondolin as visitors and guests of Gondolin, the House of Fountain will house you, the First Mate of God Elf, I merely sense it in you... I am granting, because I am a good Host, even better Elf – he winks. – YOU ARE PURE EVIL! I am not going, you are sending me, us…my family right into the… thralldom!

- It is only if you, jointly, yearn for it. – You idiot! – Daemon couldn’t hold it in anyhow and he starts laughing so contagiously that even Edmure was left disheveled, riled and breathless.

- You play games of yours, all the time!

- I can’t help myself or go against my instincts, but I mean every word. The Diamond Gates of Gondolin are opened for you. My father would be pleased I collected some of you for his Harem. Just dream of it, golden Lord of both Golden and Silver House for several are either closely or distantly tied to my House, is going to receive you. The man before False Gods fall, the one who conquered the world he recreated, live in to this day, for it is unrighteous and untrue to deem otherwise, apart from all, just a whisper of his name or in his grander presence to feel or be, even knowledge of who or what he represents to this exact point is something what neither of you will ever be aware and who knows what else might transpire for your passions when all dreams are granted. – Stop! – Daemon laughed and laughed, both sincerely and alike a child. Occurred even childlike to Edmure Tully. Such a beast of the Dragon who acts around...so childishly.

- You are cute, Edmure. I like you a lot, I mean it. I really do. You are my priceless!

Edmure scoffs. He can’t deny the truth and definitely, there was no greater Prime Patriarch than that of the Golden Flower, certainly nothing compares.

Howsoever, there was something that has to be voiced, addressed and regarded, absolutely taken into consideration or centered.
Why he was invited to the Home of Targaryen Elves, House of the Dragon and to this very household which sheer prestige is built on Fire and Blood. It can’t be doubtlessly just for mere trivialities. There is something far deeper or darker whence it came. He wasn’t here just to play with one of them, the greatest of their kind ever shaped and who disguised himself as a man to talk with humanity, shrouding his being that took or is given form to be chiseled in the upmost way.
*
The goodwill and refreshments were served to the table for Edmure and his escorts. Podrick, while waiting, saved some more for Meera. Where is she?!
*
Play a game with the world we knew to remember…with Fallen Angels…of the Great. The Twin Ring of Light…the likeness which leaves unchallenged.
*
The High King of Noldor, Fingolfin together with the High King Finarfin of Valinor’s Lorien, his birth brother, for they are both half brothers of Elf Emperor, along their High Queens shall call their banners to the grandest war of all wars if Elf Emperor orders. Each Elf shall arise so.
*
High Priestess prepares too. Blood Witch. From Olden First Bloodmoon, to the second Long Night, Jon lost his Ghost, became one with Night King, to the longest third by birth Azor Ahai, then Fake and the last is the 4th that still lasts, transhuman Huntress, Mockingjay comes.
*
Along the starless Night and her companions, Age of Wolf ends and Hour of Dragon begins...
*
To reign.

Chapter 120: Reverend Matriarch of Nature

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Never to be exempted or you feel like you are in the everlasting War of all wars that is to come. It will span and spread, this is the motive why Daemon is seeding for the next generation who will take up the mantle, continue when he started, to finish where he left off. Because the humanity in all this both ugliness and beauty is something that has to be saved and conserved. Tomorrow is even grimmer and darker and for the next step of evolution, the Man was necessary. Edmure Tully was the tine on the Wheel that was breaking the Void, just like all of them, irrespective of the titles or positions, they had their place in the grander plan. Upon giving birth to Azor Ahai who will eventually, one day, through its metamorphosis lead another Life to Dawn.

- What are you pondering about? – How to approach you about the delicate…subject. – I can converse about anything. – No, you can’t. Your human mind wouldn’t understand, ever. – But… - You see, humans were never intended to have mouths, you should have been made without it, but Eru had other plans. That one spare hole was badly needless and undesired.

- Needless and undesired? How can I speak or scream?! And don’t tell me…you read minds… - No, no…evolution stumbled and went amiss. This is something why I am here to correct, but not what is done, but for the grim and dark Future. – What are you spouting?! Why am I here? Why I am invoked or brought?! – You see?! I can’t communicate with you. The human mind has to stay within its limits or you end your humankind. It is of the outmost relevance for you to stay what you have been, yet to advance in other respects, apart from us until the Time is ripe and nigh. – We are fighting to better the world.

- No, we are preparing for the Survival. It is why we have all this havoc upon us. One Ring has formed too much harm from which we won’t get better for about 50.000 years and Feanor, Elf Emperor of the Worlds is losing the Great Battle of holiness. – If he wins?! – He won’t. It is relevant to ensure the lineage of the Race of humans, you are the foundation for all the futuristic genes and transhumanism. Targaryens are the careful crossbred species who are insuring that same Life you are living beside all the rest. It is another matter that politics of yours had meddled in. You believe that the right of every sentient being is guaranteed by the Law of Mother Nature, that is untrue with your excessive demand for something that was never yours to own and never will be completely.

- Freedom.

- Humans can’t ever be free in truth, only through your minds, you never had your own progress, it all depended on the circ*mstances. Ned Stark, if he were still in this plain of Life, would comprehend what I am uttering because you can’t expect to live with nothing to give in exchange for the Life. It was never about our living, but taming you for surviving the odds. I am overbearing with this, but it is the truth of all truths. Humans are our mapped and the most successful fruits which are given by God to use like everything else. It was never meant to be the Survival of the Fittest, but of those who are kind and adjust to situations!

What does it mean, what are they…then? Just the fertilizers?! He verily desires to make the most of the human lives and create another life by composting theirs? Or, no. He got it all wrong. Oh, God. This is what he means. The society where they all live together but there was a catch, humans are the irreplaceable as the elven source of Creation. They are requiring their genetics, so that they are able to keep existing. It can’t be merely just that?!

- Just by your existence, you are significant to me, more than…any Elf. Trust me. We are replaceable. You are not. – I have my worth for my sole birth?! – Yes. Elves either re-embody or are imagining themselves through another lives of the Elven children. You are unique. There will never be another Edmure Tully. Still, I can grasp why you want to accomplish something or make anything of your lives, to give it the meaning, but you still are the purpose and sense by simply breathing. That is the point and the meaningfulness. You don’t need to do anything else. Just exist, even then, you continue to resist us and your true nature. Once when you don’t deny yourselves any longer and accede the truth, you will grow!

He implied, once you don’t deny us of yourselves, but that was left in between the lines. Was he in the process of being brainwashed or it was all game.

- For your passion, I will do you a favor – Daemon Targaryen was shameless and brazen, taking off his Dragon Helm, for how much he was tall, he was upright in all his full glory and self-righteousness, with the freed tresses of the silver mane that is bejeweling his bedecked subtle graces, for it was impossible to oppose such Beauty which tempted. – You love us, it is why you do all for us – this was his power. He is conditioning you, and you have no other fashion, but to believe his every word as though it was real. He spent thousands after thousands of years, perfecting this skill that doesn’t work on Robb Stark, but it will on Edmure Tully, because he was the perfect example of what a human is. The Quest for God whom he may serve and for the God who serves his love he nurtured for him. Anywise, something did take place. Edmure was at odds, he was dispelling, warding him off, and the Dark Prince, Great Daemon Targaryen saw for what it was.

He looks past Edmure and he sees Ned Stark’s spirit that was melded into the Universe. Ned whispered, to the deep and thick subconscious superego, and he spoke through Tully who was unsure from where these words were coming at all, how did he know them or why suddenly he is moving his lips, only that he is breaking from the harness and yoke under which he was caged in. Were these his words?

- Your father can’t father as well as his First Mate into whom was implanted and grown the womb, naturally by the elven organism. He is in the search for the third suitable, as agreed with Swan Prince who doesn’t mind to share in between or the Harem he may enjoy also. For after his cherished Prince, swan was bestowed the symbolic purport in his niece and your sister Sansa, for you are all cousins to each other. He is the Swan not just because of the symbols on the Fountain, but unto him is the most graced beauty passed on of Gondolin. As elegant as the Symbol which your father of Gold admires and graceful as the favored Son. In the end, why if he is such a God Elf, can’t create more children? Yet, he recreates and reincarnates as Clown. He is potent or not? Quiet now.

After Ned Stark left him alone. Tully was for a second quite abashed. He broke free from the influence of Daemon who ascertained the reality to a fish.

- Someone sent me through his methods, the rare element of Valyrian steel. If I am already another Elf with the human heart, unlike the human with the Elf one, I still trust myself to mutate this alloy and metal, two in one. For I have attested that I can send even you against One Ring, if all worlds fall, you will be our ace card. For, in due course all falls and goes awry – he doesn’t want to silence anyone, he leans at Tully – Blood!

Uncovering all his cards. To create, you are needing all the necessary ingredients, and one of these components which he kept stashed, was the blood of the fish, the element as symbolic as the Edge of the Space and what is the fish other than the omen of the Christ?! He requires Edmure’s blood as the Patriarch of his home. No fear. There will be no pain, yet, gains he can’t even dream. Taking through the transfusion, the needed blood. After it was complete, he can go back to his family and live to witness, the novelty, the new compounded, compiled and composed ore from which the Dragonglass shall be exploited as the instrumentality as opposed to something that is averse to the Dark Goddess and all the Legions of Unholy crusade against Life. Back where the mankind belongs to the One who hoards the advantages.
The March unto Death of tomorrow days to come, you had the choice, to stay or leave, you stayed, little fishes, now bear cost of all…Little Dove, live a long and prosperous life with us.
- And, my priceless, make yourself at home, my House is your household, help yourself, the food and fine wine is growing rather cold. You are in good hands. Love...

Chapter 121: Thralls

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Bearing the forgotten names that once were. Meera was contemplating a lot about the events which were transpired or ignited by the Higher than her and all what she could is what is in her power. Serve her Lord, help her family and avail her friends, but this was just for her. Dragon Guards were surrounding her being from every angle. You weren’t certain even when you are alone, for there are no eyes which are preying from somewhere. She was stunned when someone touched her. Rising her head high for the Dragon Helm of batwings was tall and towering over her. It was one of them, was it already the time to return to their cage? Only a little while and as if he could read all of her mind, he let her be without any word. Watching after his flowing mantle. It was seeming that they were understanding more than someone would give them acknowledgement. After some time, another appeared. This looked like it will last for longer than it should. Because they weren’t glad to usher her in, and yet, to leave her have her time for herself!

- Please, just for a while. – No more. Go back. Meera. – Hey, I haven’t told you my name! – this struck him back, of course she didn’t, his cheeks are red. – It is not nice to read someone’s mind. – You are the property of House of Dragon, we can do anything we want – he retorts back in the fluttered way, how dare she? – Oh, all right, then…may I stay for some more time? – No – he was strict and he will drag her back. With a sad sigh, she stood up.

- Oh, just stay…when I see how you are making faces, I don’t feel good. I will be back, but that is for the last time and don’t do anything funny. – Like what?! – You are a funny girl – swirling around, turning his Dragon back to her, he was nowhere to be seen and she was left with a stupefied facial expression upon her fair countenance, for she was naturally beautiful in her face and gracious than ever in her classy movements for the common girl. It doesn’t mean because she isn’t nobleborn, that she is a savage and uneducated girl. She was learned more than well and even more schooled suitably to adhere to the rules and laws of this world. And only then, it was similarly to a dream because the Shadow in the armor appears, therefore, her breath is seized away. It was the real armor and the Shadow man hadn’t caught sight of her, nor took any notice. Was this on purpose? For she could see him. Starting to follow the dancing Shadow Man. Who was it and from whom?

How the Shadow man moved, so she mimicked his footsteps, every tread or the made stride was thrilling to her, and very soon, sooner than she could hope, the Shadow turned, seeing her. Gasps, taking a step back from the Shadow that was prowling around, for it wore the very face of Daemon Targaryen. It was unnatural, freakish and bizarre to watch him, until he hadn’t intentionally forthwith, been offering her his hand to take it, nestle it into his palm.
Initially, she stepped back anon, only for the Shadow of Daemon to coax her to make that key step, she was. And he took her to the dancing floor of sand and shells. It was unusual for her to dance with such unearthly possibilities, but she is happy, smiling warmly at the Shadow man who was returning the kind smiles until he whirls her all around and in his shadowy arms, she is glad and felt protected, after some time, till Shadow didn’t start metamorphosing into something else and she was left dumbstruck. What the?! Before her wasn’t a man, it was a charming woman of the silvery tresses.

- Hello, Meera. I have been waiting for you. For a long time. If I could, I would collect you myself, but I learned myself of forbearance and yes, I know everything about you – her translucent gown was leaving nothing to imagination, waving as a dance around her silvered being. – Who are you, Your Grace? – I am Daella. The royal guard of the Queen and her Lady Commander, assuredly, my Dames are coming to me to accompany myself and for you, because the Dragon vessel is waiting, you are coming with us.

- To where?! No…I can’t! I am going back with my Lord and…this isn’t the way I pictured. – You knew it will come to this – such a dainty voice is fashioned from the finest of the finest and still holds the strength of thousands.

- I never…guessed it would be a woman, and not like this, so fast and…no, just no! – she backs away, Daella was earnest in her apparent wooing and intentions, the advances she was making were unfaltering and so austere that the little girl of hers was being frightened by her, she had to pull back for a bit. – Where I would go?! Shouldn’t you be with your Queen? And why the ship and not the Dragon?

- Oh, my sweetheart, there is another stronghold, not far from here, that is my place where we stay shortly and then we are sailing to the mother lands where is the Queen and her Keep, the central foothold of Targaryen Elves and…I may use my Dragon to transport you, if that is your wish, but in this way, it is less obvious whom I am carrying. These days, you have to be more cautious than ever.

- I don’t get it?! – Daella puts her refining hands upon Meera’s sleek shoulders. – Because of the pirates. There are Targaryen Pirates on the Dragons now, they rebelled against the Crown and doing their own ways of seeking the prey…the spoil, human beings.

This is why all these Targaryens were fussing around, being all over her. No way that someone would snatch her in Dragonstone, before everyone else?!

- And often, these Pirates are disguised as the normal Targaryens, they live amid their society in shadows and no one could presume, that it is, for example…me in question – she leered gladly, so smugly, and Meera begins her struggle, no…no…this isn’t…fair! No, Podrick is expecting her return! Even her Master, this was against the customs! – Keep your voice down, my baby girl, stay meek! – My parents and friends, you can’t possibly do it! You have no right!

- Whoever pays in gold, has every right! Your Lord, family and friends shall understand! – they had, despite her efforts, it was proven that she had something atrocious in her that fought the oddities of the situation she was cast into, only for Dames to truthfully show up on time, starting dragging her toward the waiting boat that turned up from nowhere. She was subdued, crying for mercy, till it didn’t arrive in the true form of Great Prince Daemon Targaryen, the darkest and deepest there ever was, except, her hopes were dashed, turned sour as swift as the flying breeze around.

- Don’t worry yourself, lovely Meera. Your kindred and...others already knew, you don’t remember how they looked at you when you were leaving? This was their last time for farewell, but not for all life – that timbre, the stance and look. It was real. She was being sold, so rapidly?! She had no time to bid goodbye to anybody! – This is less painful, trust me. – It is always a pleasure doing the business with you, even if it is dirty. – Someone has to do it and you are of the great importance to us, Daella, shadowed. Care for her and love, lavish your baby girl – he glimpsed and winked at despairing Meera. No one is that ruthless. It wasn’t the harm on flesh he does, it was the permanent breaking.

- I will and she shall be gleeful, the tears are always the prelude to the greater happiness which is ahead of her. – Don’t push her far too much, she is one rarely kind girl, you won’t find anywhere someone like her – they were talking as though she was just an object of their possessions. – What are you waiting for? Put her on board - broken, she was thrown over one of the sturdiest shoulders in women, and spirited away, in glimpses she saw how Daella is giving the substantial bag of gold into his readied hands delivered, for the dessert was served. It is her!

Following how the rest of remaining Dames were tailing her wardress. For that wasn’t the robe of the mundane, it was unrealistic and unworldly for the otherworldly presences. Watching her strong back, he could envision how they are placing Meera in an awaiting, curing flowered bath to soothe what she has lost, to compensate for what she gained. Her shivering bare skin was pacified, she could breathe from shock and trauma. This time, she will be by herself, to assist her hurt being, but next time, if she wishes, there are Dragon handmaidens chosen for her or her new Dragon Lady may be of assistance too, to join her.
Step by step, faster than she inferred, initial tensions began to lose in their intensity and she has gazed with her eyes wide and open, her primary personality returned to her. She can always write to anybody or even visit, see them. Nobody said anything about visiting or that they are against writing, as long as you are serving, delivering or carrying out the duties. Sweet Podrick, there had to be refreshments they offered which you tasted, saving for me, still anticipating to return. Never had.

When they relegated it to him, the boy cried horribly, so upset that he even was deranging the man who is never to be distracted. Daemon ordered at once that Edmure Tully and Podrick Payne, his vassal and squire, straightaway to be sent to the Dragon lands, and both were irradiated by Hope which is today…the greatest luxury for the mortality and the only rarity we can hope for. Till then, Meera thus far was eating the sweetest strawberries she ever ate. Unessential is the sugar, in such a way, they sugared her sorrow and innermost travails.

Easing intrinsic torments, strength of small people is their both Great Father and the shortcoming, held in Stepmother of old. For someone gold and silver, to others are simple rocks. Patriarchal dominions were ruled by High Matriarchs. The rare, private and intimate, once you are in, never you go out.
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Stony Doors close behind your back with a long and heavy thump, flaming red curtains fell.

Chapter 122: Die, so you can live

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What you gave, amounts not enough to all who is sacrificed. Even a touch is worthwhile for dying for. Ellaria knew that the shape they are going to be witnesses is too far from what they would be used to. She stops walking. It wasn’t snowing or raining, no thunder or lightning, everything grows absolutely quiet, to the brinks of unrecognizable proclivity. The 5 people, including Sam’s Imaginarium of Muse, also sighted how the nature is unmoving, just like they aren’t due to seeing it from Ellaria, the Queen of Sand and the Bride of the Citadel, then so, they are following her example, tailing her every move that is escorted by the intricate perception. Something was wrongful, that she twirled to them, seams of a dress are folded in sad joy.

- He is in the Cathedral – turning more silent than before, it was straining on their both minds and bodies, the uncertainty, Jaime had the courage to voice it. – Is he still him? When we enter? – No. He must be awakened, but to begin with… - she looks at Tauriel – it is your turn while everyone else sustains my strengths, and then you…Jaime…are on the move – his panic grows by each second. – I don’t know what kind of words you want me to say to him, and these are just words. – Sometimes, and so many times after, not the Steel, but the kind word opens the Door of Iron and the quiet water over time crumbles even the largest Mountains.

- Why me?! – Not just you, everyone must share their due. In the end, Lannisters always paid their debts – she turns, not looking back, rising her head at the imposing building which was hovering over their lives, now was the time, she enters and inside, was waiting a surprise. The candles and candleholders were kindled and it was the phantasm reality inward the parallel existences. Jon Snow had his back to them. She confronts with the party behind her, escorting her to the doom and it has to be back.

- Celebrimbor. That was never your right name.

- No, but you know, this Citadel is indeed something. Just how much time it was requiring to build something as grandiose as this? – Turn to me, Lord of the Darkness – and he had, better he didn’t, the half side of the face was eaten by maggots, the other side was gazing straight at the appalled company, no, this wasn’t, it can’t be…their King! - It is an illusion, do not fall to the snare with which he ensnares, he can’t mutilate him, yet.

- Where is my daughter?! Give her back to me! – out of Jaime, lastly, was heard the scream of desperation, giving to Celebrimbor such satisfaction to hear.

- Jaime…maybe I ate her – the quivering of Jaime Lannister never ended, he just hungered to slay him in thousands of pieces, to rip to shreds and then he understands, he can’t. This is the body of Jon Snow who fell due to the emotional disarray he was brought in as human. Sam has been sickened, outright staggered, akin to rather biblical and frightful reveal. This was all his blame, blaming himself thoroughly. Jon, I am sorry. Forgive me. I will make up for what I have done to you. I never meant to abandon you. His honest tears, Jon sees in darkness as glints.

- His heart for humanity has made him weak and vulnerable, it is the cause of his downfall. If he stayed Elf, he would be mighter than I am, that is his downside, not yours! – and that voice which is the sheer and pyre venom, then the bearing and the face that held all the secrets in one place. Brienne gripped Jaime together with everyone else, do not let him rush at Celebrimbor, alone.

- Let me go! Let me! Where is she!? What did you do to her! Please, I am to be your sacrifice for One Ring, not her, why!? – She will grow and mature, I can’t allow that Black Queen is reborn into this dimension.

- Dimension? – There is so much you better not to know. Jaime, dearest Jaime, treasured is your wife and unborn child, better care for them, what is one child? You have three of them…the third is on its way! Let go of this one! – this was what may be called the Abomination of monstrosities. Jaime’s tears were washing the sin. – Just tell me, show me she is…well. – No, better for him not to tell you or show, Jaime… - Ellaria is not sinister, she knows what he did to her, already.

- Why?! Are we late?! – No, but it is the mirage, remember, this is what One Ring does, it plays with good people and with the goodness in us – her amber eyes were penetrating his wits, can’t hold it and isn’t able to suffer it all the way through. All his life, he knew that the violence, aggression and roughness is critical for survival and now, one Sand Queen of the Southeastern Citadel, is advising, do not see, do not hear and most of all do not act.

- I won’t touch you. Jaime, I implore you…calm down – and he was gentled by her calming nature, trusting her with everyone around. Calmly she faced off a Shadow Lord!

Wading so carefully, resembling a Ghost who was approaching steadily. He waited with human eyes of Jon Snow, expecting irises to burst our through.

- Say to me, your name.

- Lick your tears, as you did of that man – she was bleeding from her eye sockets, this was the Power that can’t be conquered, the incorporated Evil of the collective conscience of the whole Cosmos and with each step she wasn’t closer, she is further, which both bewildered and disgusted, consternating them to the revolting lengths which are terrifying them.

There was no probability that Tauriel can even come in if Ellaria doesn’t hollow him out with her powers and potencies of Sand broods. It was the drying gore on her face, until she starts throwing some parts of her internal organs from her mouth, right away, hoisting her hand for everyone not to move, not even an inch, it was his doing, he can’t do anything to her. He is nothing, he is not harming her, twisting the last end of her intestine, bringing it through her mouth, strangling her, the death rattle washed over her, swelling throughout her corporal metabolism and her sorrowful self and the being that withstood all the suffering, until she did make the final stride to him, in front of him standing, half – dead, colored in bloodiness and carnage of his own violation against her. He just pays no heed to the actual living, all what was important to him was the full submission and he stops at anything to make it, glimpsing behind her, at the horrors which his little performance has brought out from each of them. Reactions are precious.

Nampat, he said to Ellaria. Drop dead. Nampat, and the more he was chanting it to her, she was believing she is dying, find the crevice in him. Jon, where are you? Where is she? In all her reveal, she understood the truth, wasn’t mistaken, she lowers her head, noticing the bulging belly of Jon Snow. Oh, God. She is in him, he ate her, for real. Whole, clearly, she was still moving in, she was alive. Within Jon Snow. Jon, let me in, let me get inside you.

- You are imploring him so hopelessly. Jon is Dead. I am him. And hand over the Citadel, treasured Ellaria, you know that you are the treasure to your Sand Prince. He loves you endlessly, and you are ending yourself. How can he live without you? Can’t exist, he must die with everyone else – she pleaded. – Jon, let me through. Jon. – He can’t hear you. I am always here – he comes closer, she doesn’t waver. – Jon f*cking Snow!

It happens, it felt intrusive and badly invasive, and it was. She made a sign, Tauriel moves her channeling conjuration, and both women were inly Snow.

- What is this? – This is his world, his mind, his head. – You mean…dreams and wishes. – No, personality, not the world in his very self, for every living being is the World for itself, not, this is him, just him. Who he would be if he were just a human. Go…go…- And what do I do, how do I get to know the real name of Celebrimbor, and to wake Jon Snow?! What if he never comes back as he was and…
- Stop concerning yourself with trinkets…

- Is the small girl…she means the world to me… I love her much…is she…?

- Tauriel – she grabs her with both hands, enclosing her wholly - listen to me, both are dying. I don’t lie. She is going to die along the King. Jaime mustn’t know, Brienne mustn’t even for a second doubt us, not even Lord Hand or Sam, if they feel that you are fearing, and that you know the truth which I imparted on you, all is gone! They are dying and it is likely that only ONE survives, you will have to choose. Between the child and Jon…if that happens…choose…her. Choose the baby girl, it is not her fault, she is innocent. Choose a child. Not him. Leave him. You now realize,…comprehend the TERRORS OF STAKES? For the night is dark and full of terror. That is your dread. Jon Snow or her. And whatever you find in there, do not respond, just wake him up and pray to Gods, that she wakes with him, and you free them both, learning the Devil’s name. Tauriel…I support you. Sam is here. Lord Hand’s Song. Brienne’s half Ice is conjured without her dying on us, and Jaime, believe in us. Put all your trust on us and leave your qualms beyond oneself. It is down to you – letting go of her, Tauriel is absorbed into the emptiness, falling down upon the frozen Realm of Ice!

The truth of all truths was in front of her. People passed by her, but they haven’t taken any notice. Is it even plausible? Getting up, she brushes off the snow from her clothes. One boy, does suspects. Viewing the empty spot. Ser Alliser Thorne calls out Olly to join them. Tonight, they are going to kill Jon Snow and upon her harrowing experience, she goes after the child, seeing what is to be carried out. No, no! She finds Jon Snow in his office, whispering to him, do not come with him, when the boy goes in. She is sensed as a fly he waves off, when the boy nears him. Telling him the fateful, so dire words that he is compelled to follow him, and there, in the moments of his dying, he saw the shock of red hair and the everlasting emerald of Seas.
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My Sansa?! - Jon! – someone nudged him. WAKE UP, JON SNOW! For the Power of One Ring, couldn’t be undone. Never Unmade, I am the EVIL!
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I corrupt kindness, we share the same blood, we call the same Allfather, the Head of Gods, you are my brother, but you are not my equal. JON SNOW.
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- I don’t need to be. You are No One. I am King in the North!

Chapter 123: Will of the Wisp

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Ethereal voices. Sigrid hidden mark that Jon left on her. It could be either Myrcella Lannister or Sansa Stark. Reaches of the Darker Beings and black angels of Death are swarming around her, herding to her pleas. The White Banners of Boltons are changed, now they are carrying the symbols of White Angels who bring release from Life. While the Underworld of caverns was no more so tempting as before. The light was what called her back to reality.

- Can you do something about this? – Davos asks Melisandre. – I don’t know. We have no way to know where his soul went, have he left us? Is he still present? – Let there be Light for him too! – Melisandre gazes at Davos, addressing him surly.

- I am not what you think I am. My power is gone, I was mistaken about everything. I thought that God speaks through me, but I can’t bring anyone from the Dead if…that is not what Life wished for and yet, even if I did…perhaps, it is just for the small role. Who knows where he is for real – Davos wasn’t listening. – Listen to me, woman. I saw things. I saw you. I shouldn’t ever as a mortal be there to witness it, to see, but I did, I had and I was. At this very moment, at the present time, you are going to perform the miracle of all miracles, even if it costs you your head. This man here, is Jon f*cking Snow. I had no clue what it meant back then, but now…

- You are alluding that he is somehow connected to everything? – Yes! It is just unfeasible that it isn’t that so and please…Ghost…stop your whining. What is the matter with this dog!? – Melisandre fearfully, nearly nervously looked around, and she was sensing it too. – What is it?! And stop snarling at me! – He doesn’t growl at you.

- Then at whom? – Someone is here, with us. – What?! Lads are keeping the door guarded. Unless, we are all ready to die tonight, it is better for you to come up with something. The man is dead, but he shouldn’t be. You were seeing him in the fires. He is something more and I can’t put my mind onto it because I am just an old man, but he is some sort of God! – He is. But no one needs to know it and I feel its presence, but I can’t determine from where it is coming that.

Tauriel is near Jon Snow’s body, nobody sees her but she is watching through all of them. Walking through the Walls, she look into the faces of all men.

- Melisandre, do your thing! And Ghost, for the last time, just…stop behaving unnecessarily odd! – He is smelling whatever it is with us and there is no way to know what or why. It must be that it is a Searcher.
- Searcher? – That one is not from our dimension and searches the Lost Souls – this is what She – Elf was exactly doing, at that hour and in that place, beholding she was Jon Snow’s spirit. He was standing still there, at the spot where they slew him. – I was slain in this life – he was speaking to her, with no heed that he doesn’t live any longer, he hoisted his head toward her. – Tauriel, you were my Guardian Angel, didn’t you? – she stops moving. – I admit. I was always here, never left, even when there was no chance for your survival, I followed you, all the way there, down to the bottoms of Hells. – This is…Hell?

- Yes. This life, was Hell, one of them and all these people are in some sort of Purgatory, they deem this is the real world, but it isn’t. The real one is far more than the imagination, any wild of it, and you were living it, but One Ring sent you here, to live it over and over again. To suffer beyond suffering. Good spirits are sent down to cleanse evil souls, of heart fell ones from Hells, it is neverending war, the one that we are losing and we need you. Jon Snow. It wasn’t all the time like this. But there are unnumbered spheres of Life of which we are not aware and when you believe that you are dead, then your life begins, you just wake up to a new Life you are living in the similar surroundings and with the people you always knew, will they be your Mother or Lover in the next, it doesn’t matter, the emotion is right and it stays until the end of all times and space. That is why this is such the fallen and broken world, you try to give meaning to it, but there is none, this is the ugliness that is veiled and it is surfacing in the instants of the gravest turmoil of our hearts. This is everything what the humankind made, the rightful painting, this is purely your world, that of the human, in the one you lived is the reality of Gods, where they walk, these are all just glimmers and sparks of the real realm, our true one, life.

Finally, Rhaenyra became visible to her, she smiles back at her, tenderly and Rhaenyra understands. Both her and Jon are…dead.

Ellaria never confessed the sheer graveness and the bloodlust severity of their shapes, yet, she felt that they are not lost and they aren’t.

Their souls survived One Ring, and it was all thanks to their inconceivable strength of the unyielding will. She has to get them out. From this nightmare. Coaxing them to follow.

- Please, come with me. Both of you, take my hand! Just like you are now holding each other. You hold on me. Cling to me. Please, my adored souls of my heart, your spirits have to find their newly Light! – on the other side of the realm, Davos was urging Melisandre to do it.

- Bring him back! Now! Blood Witch, you are the High Priestess, and there shall never be the one as you are, your likeness in this domain of the Past is your Faith, not our Creed! Do it! I have…that religion in myself, because of you, no matter what he experienced – Melisandre confounded, rises her head at him with the swelling and walloping feels. – You believe me? – I trust you, for now. That should mean something, don’t you think?!

Cleaning him, from blood and mire, she puts all her sprouting buds upon his dead body and she whispered kindly. Leaving him be, nothing is happening. When she abandoned Jon Snow, Davos still remains, to watch over him. Before he stepped out, Jon was awake, drawing the strong gusts of breath into his lungs. God, he hated this Life, and he has to live him to the halts, whiles to the Old man’s heart, it was the miracle Jon didn’t share at all.

- What did you see?! – later, she was questioning as the Witch she is. For a long time, he was evaluating her. – Nothing. – How…nothing?! – I tell you, nothing. – But…that is untrue! – Next time, don’t bring me back. Is that clear? – Jon…I don’t understand. – People must not know, or if they knew, every single one of them WOULD COMMIT SUICIDE. – You are lying. You lied to me! There is! – And you stay quiet about it.

She nods, he was her Lord reborn and even if he sends her away from himself. She lives to serve him. When she dies, she is going to see that other realm by herself, leaving all to the good and evil, to dance their perpetual game, for that is how Life and all other lives are built, with no suffering, the existence of sense is pointless.

Upon calling him to execute the traitors, he glimpsed at Tauriel and Rhaenyra, holding hands, glancing back at evildoers!

- You are going to take my life, but you shall fight the battles of the Wildling, all your life, Jon Snow. Remember – and behind their backs, stands his Guardian Angel who still holds Rhaenyra by her hand and the little one gripped hers.

- Forgive, Jon Snow – she is uttering to him – this is why One Ring each time wins. We do not forgive those who wronged us, those are its strengths beyond all powers, you have every right to feel and that is a right which is taken by One Ring. The only method of winning is to forgive those who did us wrong. Very often, the good people make another mistake by not forgiving, leading to the vicious circle that repeats, again and again, the evilness outsmarts us, not because we failed, but because we love the dead, before all the Evil of these Worlds is to be waned – shortly, after she said it. Shireen Baratheon takes her another hand, she succeeded to collect even her.

- She forgave her father, what she regrets, is that her death was of no aid to her beloved Dad, you see… - behind all their backs, in a gleam of seconds, Stannis evanished from the Life with love for his daughter who sees that her father is leaving and she left after him, where are both her parents, to be rebirthed once again. And this is all what he is perceiving, while all other people are unaware of what is occurring around them. Life and Death are interchangeable and he stayed his hand, turning from his hate. No more.

Thereafter, Tauriel, cried out, strongly, she made it! From the hollow shock she was all this time inwardly hoarding in, the novel materiality was embodied and the fate where Jon Snow is no King, fades along with it. King’s Landing was never burned to the grounds, Lannisters escaped, never to procreate, losing their baby, Dany gave place to the right King, rightly doing so, going somewhere elsewhere to explore edges of the possibilities. Everything fell into places. Ghost repeatedly was glancing back and forth, joining Jon Snow as the Protector of the Seven Realms beside others.

What occurred later on, was a name that flashes to her. Astaroth. That was Celebrimbor’s guise. The lawful. The collective conscience of the people was changed because of the crucial decision of one man and it wasn’t easy to do the right thing in the seas of green emerald delusions. The Dark Angel, the Prince of the Night and the Sister Dark was imagined in Jon Snow against One Ring, face to face, eye to eye. People who are not on the other side of Life, but in the world of the living, dimensionally different, were standing in the Citadel, watching how Jon Snow threw up both Tauriel and Rhaenyra, embracing one another in the slime and bloodiness, his black wings are spread, he glances at all them, prepares to slay, Jaime undergoes sinful epiphany!
*
- Dad, do you hate me? – You are wanted. I wished for you and you were granted to me. – Dad, I am scared. It is too dark. – Let there be Light!
*
In another dominion, the original one, Tywin Lannister in mountainous Harrenhal had a vision of Rhaenyra, his granddaughter. Grandsire. Guard asked.
- Sire, are you ready? – Tywin still stares at the place where she manifested herself. – It is dark here, leave the candles alight. – Sire? – Castamere.
*
Now rains weep over your halls and no one to hear…Lannisters… The Birth and Ascendance. This is the Advent, where stands Cathedral, is Harrenhal.

Chapter 124: Fly out the Inferno, the netheworld!

Chapter Text

The inner spire of transcendence, imperial virtue of stars struggles with the outlook that doesn’t seem quite right. Why? Jon Snow is in all Seven Hells, fighting to release himself from the influence of both Lord of the Rings and his One Ring, the one who replaced the darkness, for that is the manna of the world that is ugly and disgusting, only in the contrasts, contains the beauty, the raw and untarnished, the one that never was before the sullied. In there, Jaime’s psionic powers grew, and he remembered, Aegon the Conquer, when was dreaming about the Primeval times, when he was violated by one of the Olds, during which, the child is born. His child out of impurity, only to become the sole purity that held his wits together. There, he saw his ancestor and Aegon approached him. Even then, Jon Snow was travelling, astral voyages performing through Space and Time and he told him. When the darkness falls and he meets his downfall, as the Great Dark Angel, only what he needs to tell to his human self is this one thing that means his ALL.

- You are Stark. You were always…Stark – upon saying it, Ellaria who still staves off the finishing blow from the possessed Jon Snow, along with the Others, twirls to the Great Other, the One who said it for the love to his daughter, his family and his honor.

- You hear me, Stark. Jon Snow?! You claimed it, it is yours. – He doesn’t hear, louder! – Ellaria shouts, Tauriel helps Rhaenyra to stand on her feet, keeping her close and protected. Seeing her, their eyes are met in the loving love that alluded forever, and he confronts Jon Snow.

- YOU BASTARD! – finally, Jon was the one who was looking behind the last glow of his humanity. – YOU ARE STARK! YOU WERE ALWAYS STARK, Bastard of Winterfell! – as if a mosaic, an apparition has ended and Jon is standing with Littlefinger, in the crypts, staring at the statue of Ned Stark, there, Littlefinger was saying to him. – They are all the Past, you are the Future, the bastard who surpassed them all – Jon is slowly turning his head, expressing his dark self. – You don’t belong here. – But, I love your mother, and…your…sister Sansa – this is what shatters the control over Jon Snow. – YOU BEAST! – instead of choking Littlefinger, pushing him against the bricks and stones, the walled walls, into them is grown the tomorrow, revealing, showing himself…was Celebrimbor of Feanorians, akin to Jon Snow.

- So, you, at long last, saw through me.

- I realized how it works, how you always manipulated and wove your designs, in the sphere where I was slain by the Night’s Watch. It was ALWAYS f*ckING YOU!

- Of course, why would Brothers kill another brother just because they do no prefer your choices? You fell into my trap, that not only ensnared, but it even trapped better days for all of you, endlessly killing for the best and right thing, never what is necessary, to forgive and you killed them, because you thought that is the right path, yet Jon Snow. Remember, a road to Hell is paved by good intentions, and your heart was pure, now it is besmirched, and you are besmearing its filthiness. Do not be a fool. Join me, brother. – Was Littlefinger, your alter ego in the Original? – Yes. Even then, I longed for her. I would kill, I would hunt, I would find her anywhere she goes. You will never know my face, Jon Snow. Not even the name in that Life, in any. I am everywhere. I am the faceless. I am the goodness. I am the manifestation of Being!

It dawns on him, passes through. All is disappearing, he was being freed, but the revelation is that they are living in the conditions where Evil has materialized its existence. Celebrimbor was no longer, he was just someone who is born and then his truthful soul of Angel corrupted, gouged and replaced, at all times, consistently, changes its shape and name, but never the essence. What is under the Wolf’s skin, it stays for good. For all the Time!

- I am sorry, Jaime! – Jon is finally in the Lion’s arms, notices even Sam, they all clutched at him, enfolding him so, while Ellaria perceived, not all is over, he was liberated, but no matter how much he convulsively is grasping jointed with Father and Daughter, who are together locked with Brienne and Elves, and his Sam, it is far from an end. Ellaria was tracking how Celebrimbor’s blood, what is left of blemishes and impurities, was now gathering in a circle, she narrows her eyes while listening to Jaime’s words to their King who was whole and healthy, well anew. – We are here. I am staying with you. I promised. I am your Kingsguard. I keep my word. I have my honor restored. Jon Snow.

- Forgive me – he gazes at Little Lady of silver lions. – There is nothing to forgive – she answers, after which all his gaze is upon the rest, returning to Sam – all of you, forgive me everything. I was idiot. I thought if I was doing how I was taught…- great sadness is caught in his throat and he can’t speak, no longer, had to take it all out, save Ellaria knew, not all is finished and she was impelled to interrupt them for the sakes of everything that stands in the mid of Lord’s way and their human selves.

- Jon…- everyone rose their heads at her. – He is still near, his blood that was in you, it stirs havoc – and really on a sandy podium, it was dancing its plays. What the f*ck was that?! Until it didn’t visualize in its concretized form. The Hydra of Seven Crowns, bigger and bigger it was growing, until even Ellaria couldn’t fend off with her powers or strength, not anymore. This was something beyond her control.

- DO SOMETHING, JON SNOW! – people around him, including Jaime are swooned, everyone except for the ones who bore the Line of Fire and Blood in themselves. Rhaenyra clings to her King. – Our Little Lady – while Ellaria was still fighting, he took all the unrest to his advantage, conveying his feelings to her, for the first time, he ASKED FOR HELP.

- You carry such Power in yourself, that you are not conscious of it. I am. It is latent and something that untapped awaits, we don’t know what is out there, what will happen, how or why, with what or where and when, but I know one thing while grappling with this Beast that is rumbling its wrath and Shadow at us, I no longer may fight alone. I need you. – But…I am just a small girl, my dragon grows – she cried sorrowfully – I am weak, I must grow, there is nothing I can do! Not my Dragon. You have your honeybee! – it endears him what she says, she remembers as the North, but she doesn’t have confidence. – Then, do it for your father – both took a peek at the swooned, all their faces alike they were of Angels, of God – do you see, the woman who bears the child, our friends…Elves and Sam, your Dad. They are wearing the angelic countenances, and you are saying – he forces her to hear him – that you have NO POWER to protect the beauty?! – the bastard ultimately has made it! He had done it!

Relieving her from his grip, she was once again overwhelmed by the feel of the Black Queen, that bloodthirsty and eventually, embodiment of her love.

- DRACARYS! – Ellaria was blown away, the Giant Cathedral shook itself, from the bottom, to the core and it was screaming like it was alive, and it was, for every will is bound into the Collective Will of the Past, Present and Future, whiles the Beast of all Beasts was crushing and collapsing the Great Building, and from the smoke and dust, arises SYRAX OF THE BLACK QUEEN, smaller but much larger in the length with its burning fires of turquoise blazes, directly and right into the blooming Monster of the Devil, the Monster Beast answers back and there was Ancalagon the Black who joined her in his size and majesty, jointed were the two Dragons while Jon grips Rhaenyra, both were hugging each other, they had to do something or Citadel will break and everyone dies.

- Rhaenyra! – he had to scream at her.

- Ride with me! Ride, now or never! Ride with me! You are TARGARYEN! Just as me and there is no GRANDER force than when we combine our Forces! You can do it! We can do it! Mount her! – observing the She – Dragon as she was appraised by many, but not with the eyes which on that day, didn’t see strengths, but power of hope, of her honest and pure heart.
- I will do it! – holding each other’s hands, Jon has manifested it, Shield of Wall was both healing and defending Ellaria and their beloveds, he helped Rhaenyra to climb her Dragon and then he was doing the same. The Beast couldn’t hold the screeching of its own, neither the blowing of the Hellfires, no portal dimension, yet, that was their drawback too, because they can’t control without being weakened, yet, the Beast couldn’t hold it any longer. It had to escape, it was pushed into the corner. No more crying or embracing for Hope, they were the Hope. Jon Snow and Rhaenyra Targaryen Lannister were on! Domes were opening by itself. Beast is Out!

Both are chasing after it, passing through Cathedral’s spirals. Fly, Rhaenyra, fly! Jon shouted, and she was doing just that! Feeling that freedom and once the Dragon feels it, there is no going back, with no regret, both had to catch up to it before it broke the arches of Citadel. The gargantuan vaults which were never to be ever built, because the Citadel stood tall and strong for eons and in the days which were taking place, there will never be the built Art as it was the Citadel in the East of the southern allegiance, pristine crystal domes were closing in, fortifying for its downfall. Jon and Rhaenyra had to save Citadel. Its inhabitants, if not already Holy Cathedral. Their people are still in there whiles they pursued Beast that threatens to shatter East.
*
They teach us that calamity is disguised blessing, Lord of Darkness tells you, it was just him behind all misfortune, from which you learn to live in Hell!
*
Forevermore, faithfully hungering for more. Interspace for the Portals of Chaos. It was such a simpler life when High Elves (Eldar) Of Valinor fought against the Sindar (Greys) of Middle – Earth that is connecting all the continents and as well as the races and lineages of bloodline!
*
Where are the roots, there is the origin of the Grand Crusade.

Chapter 125: Unbowed, unbroken and unbent of willpower

Chapter Text

Far – reaching were the hallucinations which she was receiving as a small girl while flying her Dragon, only then and there, she was evaluating the sheer magnificence of the Citadel. If Holy Cathedral was the size of Harrenhal, where it once stood in its place, then the whole Citadel in the East was the size and of the heights of the stupendous thousands, similar in shape, but different in the mold.

The entire Citadel was as enormous as the North. That was the Mightiness of Martell House and it is no wonder why Lord of the Rings who replaced another, wanted it down, torn apart. Suddenly, she had a feel of it, like he is behind her, penetrating…ah, the Hell! No, it was his illusory Imaginerium, it wasn’t real. Everything what is happening, it is unreal. Rhaenyra, just believe in yourself. We must do it! Her dragon will grow to the end of its life, just like everyone else’s.

All the while, the wildfires of emerald green were showering the Citadel, nothing of the sacred environment wasn’t touched, staying untainted by the side of the sentient and sensitive beings who lived and breathed beside the humans and next to the blessed holiness of dignity, targeting aims without fail. She joined him in, all to the way above. Holding tight, even tighter, they are flying, making unbelievable stunts through the grey clouds which are clearing, under the vaulted sky. She was uncertain if she can do it, but she has managed it with no exception or failure.

She was passing through the fire, unscathed, she was unburnt too! Her Syrax was the Image to be witnessed, and as it was destined, Jaime and the rest woke up from their slumber, escaping Holy Cathedral that was continuing to collapse from the tremendous massiveness, shrieking to the climaxes of its ages, yet, they couldn’t go outside, only up, expecting not to survive, but at least, to behold it! Sir Jaime Lannister was running as if he was possessed, hauling his Dame Brienne with him who was supported by two Elves, while Sam was right behind, helping Sand Queen who was directing the survivors of One Ring, their little group and steering events of what happens next. Subsequently she must live. Everybody expressed their desire to see it, if already all is falling to pieces, asunder, then. Let them see!

- Up, up! Watch it! – Brienne yells! Everybody, every single of the wakeful, raised their heads so high that it hurt, but they did see it, the lengthy and enlarged were horizons which were covered by the highness and luminous splendor of both Ancalagon the Black and Syrax of Lions! Jaime’s breath was hitched, stayed in him. This was Lannister’s dream which is embodying in Rhaenyra who shouted upon Jon’s command, following him to the detail.

- Dracarys! – both dragons enwrapped, encompassing the materialized ego of Celebrimbor wholly with its Dragonfires from the inter and extra dimensional portals which were opened widely, they were losing a lot of energy, in vain were dominating still. – Hold it! Don’t let it flee away, Rhaenyra! Fly, fly higher, after it! – Jon’s commanding suited him, just as it was fitted for her not to fail ever, emulating and learning as she follows because together with their loved King, they are invincible. The two were cornering the God’s Beast.

Jaime and the members of the Pack along Sand Queen were unsure of the precarious situation in which duo found themselves, deeply into its intestines.

- Your daughter is truly something, but uncontrolled Targaryen fires may damage not only us all, but both of them, it doesn’t matter even if they are unburnt, the Hellfires of the Dragons are something far distinguished from what we are used to experience to watch - yet to Jaime, it seemed that Jon and Rhaenyra grasped it entirely, even though it looked so to the naked eye as such, Queen views it deeper and still, she didn’t wish to ruin the moment when Jaime’s heart was fulfilled to the brim alongside all the others who by now were released from the enchanted sleep they were tempted into. The rest of the Pack and the total Citadel was wakened, all the eyes were aimed at the Skybirthed Battle of the Odds! And Brienne spoke instead of her dearest person in the entire world, her husband.

- You are mistaken, Queen, she is the Lioness before all else, just look at how she is probably wasting the power, but she is also preserving for the next impact, after all, she is her father’s daughter – it was true, because Rhaenyra naturally was attuned unlike Jon to her weakness, and instead for them to be her weak points, she was absolutely harnessing all frail spots with no trouble or strain, while Jon was still having a difficulty because of the massiveness of his own energy which he was handling poorly, something what Rhaenyra was learning during the fight, improvising during the given circ*mstances. She has yet so much to learn and so does Jon Snow. However, she was prevailing because of her natural control which Jon still had to master himself, bend it to his will.

The Beast was returning all of what they were manipulating at him, so that the hailed was the Citadel from the inside by the eruptive booming and if it weren’t for the jointed forces of Jon and Rhaenyra who was strengthening the Shield as the Manifested Wall of the Guardian and Warden, the Citadel wouldn’t suffer it through. Ellaria had to do something, the Holy Cathedral is finished and they are going to die with it. They can’t wait for the miracle.

- Rhaenyra! – Jon screamed at the Little Lady.

- What is it?! – she shrieked back. – The Cathedral, if it falls, not only our family who is inside, but also the outside, up, down and in each angle, from every nook, all is in jeopardy! Jeopardized massively! We have to end it quick! Do you understand me?! – I do! – FOLLOW MY LEAD! DRACARYS! HONEYBEE! – and Ancalagon the Black was unchaining all of his Force that was for very long, so pressuring Jon and purely right now, it is letting all go, the luminosity of ignited iridescence was kindling the East on all flames of the dark blazes and the blazing fires of the Dragon, for the Dragonfire was relentless in its mission to submit to the marrowbones. Over the course of the act, Rhaenyra Targaryen of Lannister House is alike a real Lioness, roars and spouts the eruptions of the molten, living magma which was thawing down the crusts of the devilish Beast that had no probability of surviving unless it was wrestling to the last shred of sin that was hoarding while battling both mythical Dragons.

- DRACARYS! – joined was the avalanche, the land sliding and even mountains on the beastly creature, albeit the Shield still holds, it wasn’t sufficient at all, but if they stop now and go to the rescue, the Beast will run away and it is his win! What to do?! Jon was lost as she was, both were torn and divided, until it wasn’t coming to pass, the two of them are looking down, below, observing the final and finishing blow of the Queen of Citadel. Ellaria was releasing such sunny beams of the sand that it was annihilating any likelihood for that God Monster to survive, bellowing the never lasting curses whiles the guests and hosts of the Citadel prayed.

Will she hold it?! Oberyn Martell has just woken up too, and he was hurrying to Ellaria. Upon his arrival to the high steps, there was no way to go up, to join her! Ellaria! His miscalculations can cost her the life she lives. Ellaria…do not sacrifice yourself, this is what she hears from the Dark Lord. Do not do it, you are but a mere life form to me. As if she was feeling it, she sensed that he has no chance to come to her, looks lower and she latched her gaze with his. Oberyn. He was powerless and she held the power, smiling so fondly, taking what life offers and giving it all to the Citadel.

Thank you, my Love, for everything, my Prince. Go on, my heart. Singularity of a black hole opened, it was One Ring’s doing, swallowing them utterly, while all is quaking and ripping in parts, people were crying, shouting and praying. Jon couldn’t do anything, neither Rhaenyra. Everyone watched Ellaria’s sacrifice when she ran across a bridge and leapt into the mass of pounding blackness, instigating such a resulting eruption of all blasting discharging, enshrouding all completely. Oberyn was brought to his knees. He was for such a long time, Master of all lives who lived here, cared and well fed, clothed duly. Lord and Prince of the Citadel in the East and when he was the most needed, he couldn’t do a thing. Beast was dead, upon falling, it didn’t split in thunders, nor it has blown the grounds, it merely evanesced and the smallest grains of its gleaming sand was raining, blessing the life inside.
The Citadel withstood as it was its Cathedral. Queen was lost. Such a loss that at the end of the day, only the wailing and weeping of Oberyn brought about all crumbling of Faith, leading to the heartbreak.
*
All the Dragon eggs of Citadel, as the tribute to the sacrifice and hospitality, …hatched.
*
We will meet again in flashing flames and flaring blazes. Illuminating our roads. Creating Life out of incest or alone. Great Snakes in sand restored their venom. Ellaria is immortalized.

Chapter 126: The fate serves us

Chapter Text

The first thing you learn among all others, is that the North remembers, just as Wall that will allow if it knows you are from there along your partners, even if your sole intentions are vile. They say that for the King his people give everything and so he must sacrifice it all. Will they go down, will they fall or will they get up from the fall? They are not just the brainless humanoids, even the best of the fallen would never permit it. They were the Masters of this World, like it or not. This was their principality, their motherland, their homeplanet, they had no other. This is why they will get up and they will never fall. This is not their downfall. Even if they are down and although all is recuperated, reinforced and bolstered up, the anguish is that keeps them alive, it was what turns into ire and there was no going back from what they weren’t, but whom they were.

The dragons were downsized and back into the pocket dents of their Lord and Lady. The one Lady for whom he hungered to be aborted jointly with afterbirth, cleansed by the first breath in a grown womb of her father that is cleaned, now he can’t be more prouder than her father alongside everyone else. At this instant of his life, he has been taught, despite all power, you are not God. No one is hurt due to her sacrifice and Oberyn as Host, all the Citadel, including guests, honored her Death. It was such a funeral which even one God can’t ever hope to be presented. Her sand and her venom, saved their lives. Because of her, the Citadel and everything inwardly, stands, because of her.

And her sacrifice. She even gave Brienne this kind of potion that will help her carry out the pregnancy with ease, it was proven that amidst the evil, she even watered the new seed to grow steadily and humble. Elixir which chastened even the toughest and roughest among them, like Lord Roose Bolton. The religious chanting was the litany of both invocation and incantations, it was the mass of conjuration for her runes to heighten and amplify its strength. Without her, nothing will be the same, but the Dragons are hatched, the Defenders just as her, who will defend from this day forth. It was the solemn and metaphorical atmosphere, the ambience which Oberyn never thought he will be given back, but he was, mutually with her. Will he ever love? Will there be ever a woman as her?

No. He only can search her in the faces of other women or men, until he doesn’t join her as well. Jon was repelled by the considerable idea of his own might. He had it all. He thought…he was so sure if he gets his own dragon as mightier as possible, that it will…that it will…it wasn’t. Yes, the Citadel was safe for all the time, but Celebrimbor has won, this battle and the one before, in every step, he keeps winning. Regardless how close they are, he has each time outdone them. With no remorse and no sense of regret.

- What is going to happen now, Lord Oberyn? – he is standing next to his side.
- Now? Well – he rises his head higher than it is humanly probable for he was watching how her spirit was leaving him for good – I keep fighting and preserving. What else? The evil didn’t overcome us. We triumphed. We are standing… - all the remaining was caught in his throat, dried from crying and the pain he feels within, turning around because the time for the mourning was pathetic, the sunshine was bright and the air was clear, fresh and chilly, the crystalized domes of rubies and precious stones were open and the pearly shades were welcomed in, soon, all will be closed and they will breathe in the cleansed element from their filtering ventilation systems which were devised by their human minds, based on the holed tunnels of Wood Elves by the smallest hollows to let the real air in. It was as masterful as it was the masterly executed

Jon stays quiet.

Kept it low to himself.

- I think there is going to be some rain, I would love it.

- There will be no rain, not today.

- And what do you know? – Oberyn looks back at Jon Snow, the rims of his irises were bloodstained from the secretive crying and even sobbing.

- Oberyn…I know the…

- Affliction? Have you ever lost the woman, the lady you loved, for real?

- No.

- Then, I wish you to know…it was my fault. I take the blame. In the time of my smugness, I was the one who failed.

It was untrue, the untruth, but how can you speak to the man who wasn’t God, who was just a human and he was Jon Snow and still, the agony pained.

- Everything goes as it is intended, for you and your Pack…I am so sorry… I can’t go…not before, in the least now or give you anything more than what is the most necessary…I have no idea how…but Jon…promise me this…

- Yes? – concluding the snow and rain, mixed no longer shall be, it all stopped.

- I don’t know if that will be you…but avenge her – with the straight face, he voiced it – and don’t look back. Ever. She was a deserving of every sacrifice, but the least…mine. She ended half – witted, my King.

- No…

- No? – She was in love. We do not get to choose who we love or whom we will adore and she loved, she was loved and the woman who feels it, is the mightiest force to be reckoned with. It was returned, and you may rest at peace. Live in peace, she will never want you to stay alone. Why would you? Keeping her memory, you will further immortalize her, by remaining on your own, you shut her out together with the rest of the world. You are not conserving her, you are tainting her freedom by not taking another.

- How easy is that for you to say, love never stops, but we must love? – That is correct. If there is nothing to fill your heart, you are good for nothing. Trust me. I know it, at least, I know. If it weren’t for Ancalagon…so you see…I would never love again, for there are all sorts of love, and it doesn’t necessarily need to be what we presume, it is at any time unassumed – the silence has befallen. – Thank you, Jon Snow. – We thank you.

- I know. And Jon? Now, when you are replenished and got revitalized alongside with the rest…amongst them are also Tauriel, Haldir, Jaime, Brienne, Rhaenyra…I also know you owe them so much, a great many, this is the debt you must not repay, specifically to Tauriel, because it is up to God to bless them, but there is someone else…who wishes to meet you – he shows him – there, in that summer house. You have recognized him. Soon, his magic will fade, it will take time for him to recover himself. You have no time to spend. Go – Jon’s heart skips a beat, gratefully rushing through the lines and countless lines of people, for now, not paying heed, minding only the source of his redemption. Upon his arrival, Sam was stupefied. Jon had that impact on everyone. Closing the ironwood behind him, even locking from the inside. – There is no reason for it.

- There is…my Sam. – Did you know that I am the Muse of the East? – I presumed. – You never like…considered to tell me. – No. Why would I? – Well…Jon – he chuckles – I won’t be less human, I am in my human form. I believe, everything is much clearer to you. My family abandoned me because I was born this way, they knew, you found me at the outskirts, took care, after Great Stark came and took me in, and here we are. Aren’t we? – That is why I react to you…my Sam. – Jon, not again, and not now, out of all times… - When shall it be? – You are a taken man! – So?! You are my unfinished business. – I am business?

- I am a professional, and yes, you are my business. I don’t believe I can go on if I don’t…at least take you, not claiming or owning. – It is the same with you all! – Targaryen blood, if we are not satisfied, it never stops. – Don’t tell me, because I denied you that…wait…no HELL?! – It is not your guilt. It is how the blood works. – If I gave myself to you, you wouldn’t fall to One Ring?!

Something like that. It is complicated, but, even so. Jon wouldn’t be able to defeat him, Ellaria would be taken by Death anyway, save the grief would be tolerable. Choosing the place, he looked around. All over the place, ready for sex. Damn, Oberyn. He has gotten even some flowers. Douchebag. They may be Kings and Lords, but they are scum! All of them. Jon smirked, it was funny to read him when he is so open to his feelings. Predatorily he waits, restraining himself not to pounce or lick his lips. He is being patient. Sam didn’t know what to do. It should have been just another farewell and to go back to his woman, his Lady of Heart to never be apart, except, this was necessary or it will remain in between, abandoned and forsaken as a frail leaf.

- Can we do it some other time? – Today. – Ah, oh, then…well. – My Sam – Jon caressed him, kissed on the cheek, alerting him. – You know what. I believe I forgot something. – What!? – Jon stays bewildered. – Yes. I shall come back, one day and it isn’t like you are going to die very soon, and someday, perhaps, you got me. I mean, why do we at all times have to nurture such the quaint relationship, Jon Snow?! – You tell me!

Jon almost caught him, and Sam vanished from his sight. Damn it! He was within reach, about to have him! Damn! This was his luck. Oh well. It was cheering him up that he won’t be alone. He knows that henceforth, his Sam will lurk around, be at his side, always somewhere near, never to leave him. It was such a fulfilling emotion, that he returned to his fellowship with the rejuvenated soul. Oberyn was more than glad that he satisfied his demands. You can’t have a King with the rampaging libido, staying unsatisfied. Unaware that it didn’t go as planned or plotted, but nevertheless, it hasn’t had any smaller effect than it would have him affected in any other way. For other respects were anticipating the King in the North or of his Pack. After all. This was the Heart of the elven world, where it all began…
Never forget where you came from, who created who you are on this day, once that is forgotten, not even forbidden or abandoned won’t condone you. Roots, origins and all stems...
Demon or the Devil, Lucifer or Satan, Lord of the Light, the two parts of the same coin, flipping it, born is the Targaryen who isn’t vulnerable to madness evermore, not as God Elf, the clown or jester, golden and sunny conqueror or something more, silver and gold, but gemstones of the Great. Born is Defender! Champion of the weak! Old Codes to Dragonheart.
Thereafter, Jon Snow is embracing Oberyn Martell, the two men held each other for farewells.

Chapter 127: Whispering(s) in the Dark

Chapter Text

Not the Dark Goddess or Lost Daughter, Lilith, the devolved Great Spider of all the spawn, the Dark Gods of Ungoliant, but the Lord of the Darkness, the Darker Lord ever to exist, breathe and walk, has unbounded his Mutated Forces, moving them straightly, closely to the Company of Jon Snow. Soon, so very soon, you shall belong to me. Your souls devoured by my Ring, you will be the scavenging fodder to the Ultimate Power of ONE!

- Do you see something through your wizardry’s ball? – Talion shows himself to his Lord and friend, seeing him how he is sitting in his darkening room, all to himself, mulling over the past events which are to him, just the Past. – They are succeeding to open the Doors of the inner, extra and interdimensional proportions with their Dragons. – Targaryens are doing it, the normal Dragon doesn’t have that ability, it can only be done over time or the mastering, and if they are naturally attuned, it only means, they are wasting their power and losing strength at the abnormal speed, it is the weakness you exploited.

- Would I? No, I wouldn’t…I abused, and even if they learn to control it better, both are fainthearted, for that Little Lady is still just a child even when she demonstrated the natural affinity to control, yet, how she grows, she shall lose it and you get another Jon Snow, in the female form, and all goes on and on. – Celebrimbor, what about Eregion? Our Hollin?

- Yes…don’t worry. Jon will come, but mark my words, our kingdom which we built together, bled for and fought to this night and every after it, won’t burn or fall, for the Dragons won’t even graze it. Take it to your heart and engrave it in there – Celebrimbor’s usually stern voice is becoming rugged, pressed by the huskier depths, in the way that provides their sanctuary in the deeps. To the bottoms of Hells while on the outside of the underground cavern realm, live lives in dayspring.

On the upper seams of the blissful sunlight. Until Talion didn’t recollect that there is something, an affair of which he must speak with his Dark Master!

- About Lady Sansa…the Princess. – Yes? – squints his pitch black irises at his most faithful human warrior, whom he brought back from the dead and now he serves him as the enhanced human being. – Isn’t it to you…wasn’t it strange how she was brought to you?

- In what way, Talion, speak? – Celebrimbor doesn’t loathe when Talion’s reproving character is emerging, he was human after all.

- He brought her to you, before she is taken over by your Imperial Guards, blindfolded and veiled…with her hair cut and her honor claimed by another. Human one. I assume what you will say, as long as it wasn’t the Elf, but still…why short hair? – Glor’s temper was challenged and his oversights are suiting him, he is a fool. The one I can’t take down and must learn to live with him.

- He will turn on you, if not already…

- He turns on everyone. He is God Elf. You truthfully deem – Celebrimbor looks up with a faint smile which garnished his fair beauty and the hidden malformed countenance to the pitfalls of the unknown – that I would trust Glorfindel of the Golden Flower? That man…that Elf is something the most potent that your mortal and human eyes ever laid upon, despite the fact how much I am prolonging your lives, it is something that is ethereally transcended. His existence is not real. Only fools believe so.

- What do you refer about? What do you want to say? Are you alluding something? He is God’s Hand, what else? – Epitome of Winter he brings along. – Suffering. You love to watch suffering of any? Is this why you admire him? Because, unlike you, he has his bounds in morality, you have none if it is of no service. – I don’t like to watch – this in truth inspired hope in Talion, only for Celebrimbor to crush it – I perform it. – Is this why you killed Ellaria Sand? – She refused me. I set a trap. I never aspired to bring down the Citadel. Why would I? It is a nice place, there are even Dragons right now, all is nested and fresh. It was the only way to get rid of her when I by then offered her place by my side.

- Celebrimbor, you hate women? – I love and adore them. If you ask me, I would own every single womb out there, even men, all of humanity, what I do dislike purely are strong women and by that I don’t mean only with power or influence, any position, but the ones who are breaking the natural wheel of the world. That is my concern, this is the world of men, it belongs to us, and the women like Ellaria, they disrupt naturally the flow of the men. – Make you weak or seem like unworthy? – Worse, unneeded. What is the purpose of the manhood if the women took over? That is not how it is arranged by Mother Nature. Even she is smarter than her gender so.

None of it mattered now. Effectively, Celebrimbor erased any scent of another that is left upon her Princess’s body and the way he has done it, it was beyond harmful, it hurt her a lot, only for her to love it, letting him pleasure her, after the pain, came the pleasure, the prelude to the happy dark times, the happiest there are. Making sure he inspirited in her mind that there is only him for her, the shadow over her life and the one that lives in his.
He was just rearranging what was corrected. This is why he hated Ned Stark and relished his death to the utmost lengths, even tortured Sansa with her Father’s death, often remarking how the Last human King in the North was a terrifying opponent, only to end up…with the broken heart. Heartbreakingly heartbroken, in the mocking voice and mimicking the aftermath. No shame. Even once said that he would love that he could serve to her his head, so that she could say another farewell, before he eats his brain, playing the strings upon his teeth, that would be the most satisfying for everyone who opposes him, alas, not meant to be, pleasing himself with what he has got and had. He was such a monster. Never shying from it. Loved it and enjoyed it to the fullness.

He lived how he wanted without any fear of condemnation which is untruthful as the Sun or Moon. In the end, Talion was his close friend, the only he owns, sealed they were together to put up with one another. It was the choice. Dungeons, cages and chains or Dragons, Fire and Blood. He chose what he had to do to survive. It was the Inner Circle of Inferno for him. However, he cared for a friend and this Celebrimbor exploits.

- I know what you are doing and why you are keeping me, tied to your Willpower. – And that is forever, never to miss me or yearn for, it could be anyone, but I chose you. It could be you who suffers still, but you determined your destiny, which is decided for eternity at my side of the Dark Throne, dearest Talion. Do not despair, the Death of hope is where anarchy reigns. It is where I am prevalent and dominant Force. – Will I ever be free from you and your Wraiths? Will you ever let me go? – Celebrimbor leers.

- Never, I don’t like to repeat myself, presently, dance my golden boy on the puppet master’s strings or you prefer to be a Master puppet? Do as I say, and bring me the one whom I also brought from the dead, the one Glorfindel crucified as one of the Masters during his conquering days, hm, when you carefully think about it, Feanor and him, truly forged this world, and yes, like father, like daughter from another sphere. Musing if he is enough to go that far and starve someone as well. – He did, the vilest…which you support, don’t you? – No, but that is Glorfindel for you, like you said, an apple never falls far from the tree, both Silver Princess and Winter don’t think about the repercussions, of the wrongdoings, what it will spawn, only of the moment, and only then, they are correcting the crooked rivers. That is why they must never meet.

- Why? Just because she is Daenerys Stormborn, it doesn’t mean that she is his daughter too, from all other parallel universes, it doesn’t indicate that he is the father of each and every one of them. – Talion. She was born during the harshest storm that is ever known, right? Is that so? – You are no wrong…wait… - During the smuggling of Sansa Stark, there was the storm, the strongest ever which he prevented, isn’t it?

- You mean… - It correlates with the day of her birth. – Wait a minute. – Mad King isn’t her father at all. Not Viserys is her brother. The child in a crib, did die. Robert Baratheon, did kill her. – There are two.

- There is only one. This Daenerys is the astral projection. Something she dreams about whenever she sleeps, but forgets when she wakes up. Don’t you see? He hid her in the Superstorm, that was that Storm! You really opine that he is such an idiot, it may be, except, when it comes to his Daughter or son, he does everything, simply all to protect. He knew that they will come after her, because she is his grandest liability, and the weakest point that can bring him down, because of him, she would be slain. So, he left this Dany in here, as the Medium of her dreams. She says, her dreams come true. They do. How the f*ck do you get that? It was always him, the one who allowed for that Dragon Lord to be there with her. Her Godfather, the Guardian who mustn’t betray, if he does and not watching over her. Even God or Devil won’t avail. And the Hades would look like a Paradise. For through dreams, Glorfindel shapes his daughter’s world and her life. He can’t stand to see her hungry or unclothed poorly. Without friends. You may say anything you want, but that man…is a great spouse, even a better father as parent. Has all the love of the world to give. He loves children, and yet, they are denied to him. He wants them, can’t have them. This is why he desires to build the Harem, not just for the pleasure and their flesh or spirits, some of them, had to give him…more children and to his Swan Prince who doesn’t mind, he encourages it. Yet, no one and none.

- You are the same. – It seems so. – And when did he do it? – He completed it with that superstorm during his abduction of my Red Wolf Princess. The time flows differently there and she was born, already a grown, well molded hardy and hearty woman. Someday, he will come for her, when the real world is safer, dead or alive, return her to his side and his First Mate’s. They are looking forward to the day when they become one and same. – Can he bring her back from the Dead if it comes true as well. – Yes. Don’t forget the inner circle which is sealed. My close friend, the only I have – the heartbeats were thumping together. – And bring him to me, back, or send him in if he is already brought, then.

The Iron Doors creaked and the bald man was ushered in. At first, he was timid, but how his bold heart grew, so was him. It was never about the boldness when it comes to him. The Bald man was secure in his stature only if he whispers as the master, the best he could. And if the birds do not answer, you go and find other ones. That was the art of whisperings which he perfected, professionalized and specialized.
At present, by regards that he was both burnt in this and that realm, he is tied to the Will, bent to it, the one who re-fleshed him out due to the voice he heard, the one about which he spoke with Tyrion Lannister, to which he lost his parts. He would distinguish Him wherever he is. From all others! It was The Voice Of Celebrimbor!
*
Varys is speaking to Tyrion.
- I tell you my friend. Not the pain I remembered or what was done to me, but that voice…never to forsake.
It was him, all along…

Prevent goodness in all, Lord, Master and Liege…warm our blood.
*
Dany of Realm of Fantasy is Doppelganger of the Original. One and the same when they unite. Such a likeness happens only once. Love human stronger than Evil ever will, was or is, as it never will be when Life is turned to the naught, the Pact serves Justice of Fire and Blood.
*
Every sacrifice quickens the DOWNFall, just like almost Great Elephant on Mount of Doom.

Chapter 128: The one under whom the humanity shall be united

Chapter Text

Varys was finally in front of the one he called the Puppet Master, who pulls the strings and you have to sing and dance for him as long as you are his. The ones who wanted the golden heart, they have gotten nothing but his chains of gold, in the clunking cages, there is their faith, left to rot while you think of the better days. Yet, there is one of whom he shies away, just like Elf Emperor. This was the High Knight of Gondolin. The Golden Elf. Glory!

- My Liege, do you have troubles? So that you called me? – You imply, calling I? – Sire? – Talion stays. I have no intention that he ever leaves my side. – As you wish, Sire, and I would implore you, do not read my mind so often and casually. – I will do whatever I want. You live in Eregion, as one of my advisors, it is going to stay that way if you comply. – I have never thought that you are someone who pays attention to the smallest of details, even the ways of speech.

- If we turn out barbaric even with the central point of our evolution, then we are devolving faster than any animal species. So I entreat you, beware what you speak, I don’t need your tongue to understand you – this wily Varys took as a threat and from every corner, his Shadows and shaded Guards are skulking over his carcass that is very much alive at this point of his life and he plans for it to stay like this. – When God Elf spared you, what happened next?

- I died rather quickly in the elven captivity and overly too gentle hospitality, elvish potions of Gondolin King didn’t go well with me, nor their kind intentions to prolong my life haven’t sealed my stay with them and any other likes wouldn’t be served because I haven’t permitted for them to do with me whatever they liked, selling and reselling, buying and rebuying whenever they saw it suitable. – You killed yourself. – Sire, you bring those who rose their hands at themselves, you bring us back to the living. It is the same with Glorfindel of the Golden Flower, be it directly or indirectly. You never can bring those who drop dead.

It was expressively described. He love the man because of it. It was hard to find him and his soul, but it was crying to go back and he granted him Life.

- I yearned to speak with you, but before we continue, tell me. How is Life? – and after such a long time of misery and torments, Varys kindly and honestly smiled unhesitant. – My Lord, you have my eternal gratitude. This is why I am going to serve you as long as you need me.

- Good, and Varys.
- Yes? – If I see you near my Sansa, one more time, you are going back and you would then pray that what Glor did to you, that I am equally so much kinder in my delivery – he offers him the set of smiling white teeth at his direction. – Why of course, I was just passing by, you know me. – That is the thing, I know you. – And she is Ned’s daughter. – He is dead. – King’s daughter or poor maiden, it doesn’t matter, we are all someone’s tear in an eye. – I won’t remind her anymore of my dominance over her. – Sire, you are the most forgiving. – She told you something and you have done this on purpose, to draw my oath. – How could I ever deem myself so low.

- You have been hiding in my Shadows for some time, what brought you out to persuade my change of opinion on the trivial matters? – To some, it is the life meaning matters.

It occurred to him. Sansa was suffering whenever he asserts his domination over her, whenever he imposes oneself on her, using her father as a weapon.

- You are something. Endearing Varys. – I am, Sire, I won’t be falsely modest. It isn’t in my character to rest and I would nicely ask you to stay out of mind. I have nothing to hide, no shields up. – It is because you buried them somewhere, I intend to dig it out. – Happy scouring, Sire, I wish you luck on that. – And I shall. Now, on the more ticklish concerns of mine.

- As King of Kings, the one who is prophesized to pull the Sword in Stone out? The noted and most memorable Excalibur. Who will draw it from Stone? And it doesn’t necessarily need to be someone of a pure and good heart, but who is happy for others. Who is rejoicing for someone else’s happiness more than own, who is the servant to all and asks nothing in exchange for personal woes or the throes of the excruciating anguish. Except for demanding some respect. Someone who never hated, that is the key. Sire. And who doesn’t hate?

- You may be angry. – Hate is deep and etched in every living being, and who will be the one who doesn’t hate anybody? Unlikely, Liege. Unlikely. – Someone who got rid of hate. – You don’t realize it. Never in the entire life to feel nothing but love even for those who wrong you. – Ah, thank you, Varys. You delivered me. It means. No one. No one is going to pull a Sword, and I am not in fear, great or high, it just I don’t want any nuisances added at my threshold. – I completely feel for you. – Stop your flattering just because I favor you, instead. Speak it to me more if you can’t already show, I listen. – I very much thank you, again. Because there are interesting tidings for me to share with you and your…sullen friend. – He is always depressed. Born that way. Doom and gloom, it fits me well.
To Varys it was far concerning how he battles at last the opponent who is his match, fantasized about it, he was served and the one he can’t rival in any way. Because, the Master allows, this is why he may speak freely and through him, he found out how Sansa feels, for she would never tell him, openly come to him about her emotions and express it neither in words or anyhow distinctly. It meant, as long as he sees fit, and if he felt like it, so is freedom.

- People take their turns at the edge of Blackwoods, yet not even one succeeded. However. Who will be the One? Even Prince Robb Stark, Young Wolf, searches for an answer. From High, he has risen to become Great Lord and he enjoys it so, particularly as Head of House Stark, this is something which he overmuch rejoices in. Finds happiness where he was sure there is none. Admirable is Azor Ahai, don’t you think it so, my Sire? – All I know is that he is the Oathbreaker, just like his father, it is the same blood who fell due to his loved daughter, and so even the trueborn bastard doesn’t adhere to his own oaths. How could he? What monkey see, monkey do. – You have suggested that you speak of…Wolves, Sire? They are wolves, not monkeys. – They are humans?! Am I wrong?! – Varys flinched at this outburst.

- Liege… - They even teach their children they came from monkeys! I am accurate! – Dear Sire…human apes, not monkeys, there is the difference. – Ah, all these divergences and distinctions are making my head swirl, soon, even Elves are going to catch headaches. – My Lord, we humans catch colds, not headaches, and it really, if that ever occurs, the world is doomed. – Just convey what you wanted. – Well, from High, he grew to be Great Lord, and he declared as long as there are the Wells of Blackwater that are both surrounding and neighboring their bounds along the King’s Landing in the South, everyone is free to come and try, irrespective of status, age, gender, race and even the faith. He put his Wolves to guard the Holy Place, not the Holy Land of Golden Rose, of course, even so, it is sacred and blessed thrice by the priests and priestess alike, anointed, and everybody has an opportunity, just once to attempt.

- Did he try? – No, Sire. He is Azor Ahai, he no longer aspires to excel his bastard brother. He serves his other priorities, his family and the realm. – Father’s son. – This is what he is. – And anyone else? His sister, the infamous Arya Stark? – Not yet, who knows what keeps them from trying, it must be the insecurity, because no one likes to be spurned. It is the unpleasant feeling, just like you watch either through the crystal ball, black wells or enchanting mirrors, don’t you think so?

- He betrayed me and my trust, yet, I admire him for that. There is nothing greater than when someone realizes and figures out his own worth and I am proud of him, not a vow.
Varys bowed down. That was it. Leaving Lord of the Darkness and Power Rings to dwell on the affairs which were strewn to the front of his black boots. Nonetheless, Varys genuinely with all the sincerity, adored the new home. Praying that it will last even if Hollin changes its Master. From the corner of his eyes, he notices how Sansa Stark is guided by his Imperial Guards, on the upper level, to stroll and take a walk around the lighted part of Eregion. By what he was seeing, she was content.

Absent – minded, but never truthfully present, and whatever shielded her from the Dark Lord of Shadow beings, it has got to do something with not being Stark who are all Wargs, for her powers rest in revered subtlety and gracious grace. She is Lady of House. Her Winterfell. Her home and household. Just like her gentle mother with a strong sense for the tender motherhood and fair ladyhood. If Robb was his father’s son, she was her mother’s daughter. Insurrection can’t ever tarnish her gentle beauty which was laid in enriched riches and gemstones. Her bejeweled jewels will never lay in the brawn or physical strength, but in the gracefulness and intellectual mind. By the means she was watching the world, when she glances at him, could bring down the worlds. No wonder that her raven husband was soaring spheres to hunt her for self.
*
My Lady of Heart, we won’t part, let me kiss your dainty hand. You are my human Bride.
*
The one advantage, may set you free to survive the odds, the only freedom is in death as reward where they were forbidden to look at or follow, unless…

Of Old Gods and Dark ways…

Chapter 129: The Moon’s Coming of starless boundaries

Chapter Text

Jaime was musing a lot, and when that happens, it normally ends in something similar to the irony. While going through the Ents’ Woods, they will soon end at the rims of Southlands. These old Forests only were serving as the intermediate between the East and where starts the country by another name, and those weren’t Southlands, once they were, now they are something through which they must pass. Mordor. Soon, they are going to enter in and who knows what kind of dreads are awaiting in there, horrors beyond imaginable. Yet, he had a purpose to his life, a meaning for his family and the sense for the honor.

He will win it through, prevailing his oddities which were stamping the mark on his both muscled back of the solid shoulder blades which are shouldering all the pressures of this world and upon the head which was saying, my mind is not open for no one but for my King whose back seemed colossal for some peculiar reason for which he had no answer.

One day, and that someday shall maybe come, when someone else shall watch his. Will he, then, be able to offer it to the world or to that someone? Back where it belonged, where it doesn’t fester, having his personal impact on the life he lived.

Besides, Jon’s Shield is the manifestation of the Wall. And this is something what he had to ask Tauriel about before arrival.

- Lady Elf! Starlike maiden! – she would smile every single time when he uses that nickname or the affectionate pet name he coined by himself for her, even though in no way she was the maiden anymore, she was to him, for lots of reasons unnamed but known, better than She – Elf, though, that was what she was.

- You should be at Jon’s side – she understands he wished some room to breathe and here at the back of the Fellowship, both had found some kind of liberty to be more themselves with no one to bother, a bit distanced and not cramped together - not sneaking upon me, not to mention your Brienne.

- She is a little bit edgy, it must be the baby, Rhaenyra is her therapist, it is for the best, trust me. All my children are special, but Rhaenyra…is my favorite. I don’t favor or make differences, howsoever, she is just able to assess the situation and act to it, splendid, I would never be capable of doing it. She is masterful, unlike myself, a Jester – she nearly bursts into a laugh, still, she abstained from doing it.

- We are AT the end of all our comrades.

- Yes, it sounds nice, but why would you hide here with me, everyone else seems to be in the good mood, better than expected. Even Roose is tolerating Haldir, the world is coming to an end – both couldn’t hold it, anyhow, within and they did just that, laughed loudly, people turned, remarking on their childish behavior and just continued, all 300 with the extras, their Great Journey.

As a matter of fact, they were at the peak of it. Once they pass Mordor. They are at Eregion’s Gates. With the two full – fledged dragons, faithful people, Wolves, magic and tricks, but will that be sufficient?

It is why he has to talk with her about Jon’s God Shield or is there more than it meets the eye inside him? Something what he is hiding for the end and all new beginnings.

- I am more aware than ever about what you want to query, what bothers you and even more I am not in the position to read your mind. I merely sense why you came to me.

- People in the Citadel have grown the aspiring wisdom. The more it appears real, the more I ask myself…how? Even Sam remarked. We are not an army. Is there something what I am missing? Where are we going to gather more arms, more weapons, more…everything. Look at us. We are the lambs ready for slaughter.

- You have witnessed miracles and power by your...now our King – she underlines – and you carry on with casting a doubt.

This sounded more like some type of reprimand.

Knowing Tauriel for quite some time, it was her observation, the view of point, not the judgment unto anyone and being the most appreciative of her deeds, he got close to her, grew closer in friendship and shared relations…

- One Ring. You saw and we will need more than just…I mean…we are human beings. What kind of chance we have?! – Tauriel grins mysteriously, at one point, even resembling Galadriel.

- I will disclose to you a secret – she brings her hand up before he said something – save I beseech you, don’t tell to anybody, because once you do – she puts her elvish hand down - you are becoming too sure of yourself and you will relax and lose that edge of yourselves, something that makes you Wolves and Lions, brought together.

- Lady Tauriel, keep it quiet. Please, I apologize for interrupting you.

- Sorry, yes…more whispers, and so. I am expressing to you that Jon is going to…bend the Night King’s powers. All this Great Journey and the human sacrifices which were laid in the name of the North, were for him to master it and you did it willingly. There is an adage you humans seem to forget. What you sow, you are going to reap, that day is coming. Not even one sacrifice won’t be left unrewarded, all suffered losses, whether by slavery or lost lives in any way, shall be paid off. You gave something, all of you, what can’t be returned in anyhow but with the Power whose strength will parallel not only One Ring, for Night King has no control over Jon anymore, he is under his, merged and well taken care of, and once more, Night King is not in Jon’s head, by all means, he is in his mind in turn. The perfect unification where Jon harvested all of his abilities that will serve a balance and none of its flaws, delivering not the greater good or evil, but the harmony. Once that equilibrium is shaken and hurled into the disarray, so we are all. What I want to say more is the veracity of the fact.

- And did it overpower the Curse of Targaryens, the inbred madness? – No, it didn’t – this made Jaime crestfallen. – He overcame it on his own, all thanks to you all, when he resisted the ruinous potencies of One Ring – shiningly she offers a smile to Lannister who was left speechless.

- You see, he is now the perfection of his kind. This is the very cause for which Feanor fought for his grandchild and all his House and the kind, the delivery from the Madness of House of the Dragon to which he belongs too and Jon Snow is…he is… - it stays in her, Jaime, tearfully ended – free… - crosses his restless, extremely troubling mind along his stressed and unrelenting wits.

- My daughter? What about my daughter – he barely could speak because of the bursting emotions which were living inwardly, which are swirling from inside. – Unfortunately, no, this is another battle you will have to fight, the one what hides the menace, Sir Jaime Lannister with other Lords, Ladies and Dames, with your family ties, dear people to you, your house, home and household which is consisted also by the common people, endurable, hale and hearty, precious, so very daring, you will have to utilize all what you have got in your power and I alone wish to you all the prayers answered by Old and New Gods, the strength to endure the impossible and to fight for her, do not sacrifice. Never give up on your child, it is worth it in the end. You must stay alive when all worlds are falling – he is silent.

- Will you be there…with her too? For my family’s cause? Not the name. Simply on the honor I am placing all your blessing and graces – the sigh she breathed out was the toughest and hardest she ever has permitted to glide freely from her.

- You have my blessings, still, like you said, I do not make favorites neither I tell apart when it comes who deserves what and…you are thoughtful of my circ*mstances and all what surrounds me, it is the same with Haldir and… - I didn’t request, I demand. Tauriel. Not the favor, for I am not favoring or drawing distinctions – he sorely surprised her.
- What I am looking from you is not fortune, good or bad, not for protection, under or above. I want you for House Lannister and the North, you may choose any family you wish to share a life with, for I want you there. With us. Together. – It is unfeasible. I am the Wood Elf. – You are accepted – he grips her – bring your husband with you too.

Live with us. Not just bluntly to be present, but sincerely to contribute as she is doing it right at this moment, and she is in for the bestowment, the hailing prospects and another way of life. Far from Silvan culture that will be delivered to the North’s Gateways, to the Wall, because she is the one who shall bring it along. Only she needs to do is just that, come along. Can’t answer to him, who knows if she even survives. Leaving him despondent by her serious convictions which he admired and respected, both deeply and darkly, however, he has to find a way how to make her theirs.

Completely. The North wouldn’t be the North without Daughter of the Forest, she would beget such contributions and they will do all the good to her too, be her family. He promised. Anywise, they are disrupted by the unbelievable shouts of the people. Sharing a fleeting glance, the two will leave the hanging issues for some time to brew, joining their mutual fellowship for whom they had turned to be the invaluable members of their team, incomparable for anything alike. Alongside Jon Snow, they were watching at the barren lands, lonesome wastes and lonely marshes of Mordor. Their blood is whispering something far different from what they were used to know. This was the Land of Shadows, where shadows lie. They are here, at its shadowed borders. No one heard, Jon did. Rains of Castamere. It is the tomb song for the House that will cease to exist. Jon Snow. Hanged and put to the Sword! Never to redeem, just like House Stark who joined the cause for the eternal peace. Jon shivers.
*Come before me and feel connections in Fire and Blood. I will be waiting. Jon Snow. I shall.
- What are we going to find here?
Jon responds, unrewardingly, unreturned, in vain, returning the answer back.
- What is going to find us. What lies ahead?! That is the question unanswered.
Spread out before their eyes were the shadowrealms and its sister blacked territories which are lying in wait. Am I everything what you dreamed about? Staring back at you is Night King.
Far more…than warmness around your heart. Thus, Jon becomes embodiment of Ned Stark that mirrors the Life. Sleeting the most beautiful dream of Eden. You won’t take it from us.
*In her, Jaime sees Enerdhil who gave him the medicine for his children. Artist and Gemsmith of Gondolin. Remembering that not all Elves are the same, Woodland turns a page.

Chapter 130: The King I see inside

Chapter Text

To make her home in the elven way, not human lifestyle. Jaime would provide Tauriel and her growing family the trees of Godswood to have where to climb, live and thrive, at the foot of caves to hide or under the ground if necessary to dream for real. For all that is High is inherited this way or another, except the Great is earned. Those are human beings for you. Mortal, yet relentless. Innocence, purity, but not naivety, it was the pristine simplicity of the necessary evil.

And even in that evilness, you could find some sort of beauty that catches your fantasies in the most wonderful ecstasy. Lord Bolton outwardly was enjoying what he was seeing. Even in the desolation and beneath the red skies, there was the greyness which was nacreous to the lands. After establishing the encampment, he went to search for Brienne who isolated herself from everyone and everything. Jaime and others let her go because she was seemingly disturbed. The pregnancy didn’t suit her at all, and she just wanted some peace from all the noise, clamor and crowd, she wasn’t far, sufficiently for Jon to sense and hear her, despite the fact that his human ears are back, he possessed elvish faculties since the start, and the little f*cker was keeping it from them in secrecy.

He is not such an innocent guy, but they forgave him. And there are always Wolves who could smell you or any sort of danger, and Elves, and even Dragons. They were of the full capacity, and it was remarkably diverting to her to watch how Honeybee and Syrax are playing together, like real children. Not so afar from her. Even the pet name, the endearing and affectionate naming was the endearment for itself. He really did resemble the small honeybee in the shape and size, for he is the runt, and perhaps, smaller, but when he transforms, it is another story. Still, she keeps on watching them how they play, it was hide and seek.

Each time, he finds her, but she never him, for he was black as the darkest of the nights, just like in the pitch black tales. Both were adorable, even so, they left her in peace. Even Dragons feel when something is bothering the human being, but if she is in the slightest danger, at any sign, they would start their rampage all over again. For the time being, all was peaceful and quiet, ah, she already feels betters. So, this is what soothes her, calmness that doesn’t stir the water. Under the eaves of laden boughs and gentle breeze.

- You are shadowing the somewhat of the red sun in these lands – he smiles softly back at her. – The red shade is coming from the erupting volcanoes, not very remote from where we stand, it is giving off the emanating beauty of the fallen and broken world, that resurfaced its hiding ugliness. – Oh, just sit down, already – he did. – So, how is it going for you? – Bad, this nausea, it is killing me. – Elixirs?

- Not even a single remedy couldn’t help me. Not even elven. Both Elves, our friends and comrades are fussing around me, but this baby, it is like…she or he tells me that it wants my suffering, if not for Ellaria who gave me her own tonic, it would be intolerable to bear – he chuckles. – May I touch you? Your belly? – Of course, I am used to it so far. Jaime touches me all the time, I can’t stand him sometimes, how is it possible that such a man you adore, becomes insufferable?! – He is excited of becoming a father for the 4th time, that is all. – Well, let me confess something. I can hold out abnormalities, except myself pregnant. Oh God and…what do you think, and stop touching me too much! – ouch, Jaime was right, she is all jittery, she can’t control it. You don’t say it for nothing that she is in the second state of her mind, unreliable. – Sorry, well, all is fine, it is merely that you are finding it difficult to carry out, but the baby is healthy, no worries.

In silence she thanked him, closing her eyes, it wasn’t bad, mainly to get her peace and wits back, to regain the prosperity of her inmost peacefulness so.

- Is there something troubling you, Lord Bolton? – Of course, this is maniacal. I am everything you can think of me, but not anymore. This is the limit even for my human mind. – Interesting. – What? – How we humans, when we are affronted by something that doesn’t wear our face, becomes more sinister than themselves. – Because even when we commit atrocities, there is light and repentance in all of us, in something inhuman, well, there isn’t. – I understand where you come from. – Brienne. – I know, I don’t know by what means either, I thought it would be easier for me, it isn’t. The baby… - She is not a burden.

- I haven’t said it. – You thought about it, there are people who will take care of… - Baby in Mordor, a pregnant woman...we are deluding ourselves. I can’t frame anyone but the two idiots, Jaime and I. We knew it could slow us down and yet. – You never are certain if there is tomorrow, you live in the moment. – It costs. – Such is life, nobody is perfect. – You changed, Roose or better to address you as Lord Bolton, you do not fear damnation any longer? – I am Old Man. House Bolton is condemned a long time ago, all what we crave is some beauty, innocent hands and cleanness. We lost all. – You have new banners, the old ones were like you are surrendering wherever you go. Almost even Orcs we passed by were figuring that you are to surrender to them. – They ran away like flies, now, it carries the symbol of Dark Angel of Death. – Very nice.

- And, isn’t it…weird to you? – What? – During our travels, often we came into contact with Orcs and their various kinds, but here…woods fall silent, even animals are nowhere to find, only in glimpses. Thank God for our provisions, and waters are still. So disturbing. – Says Bolton.

- Human being. I know humans, with that I can play my game. I can enjoy myself with the humanity, but this is the top game, the dance I am not used to dance. – No one is. These are all temptations, and close your eyes like me, relax, who knows where you will catch some sleep. Make it count. – You are right. I will do just that. Make room a bit. Ah, it is pretty, here.

As soon as he closed his eyelids, he was in the deep slumber. Jon discerns the depth of consciousness and he granted his deepest desire. Let him meet her. So that Lord Roose Bolton found himself before the Grand Iron Gates of Winterfell, of Wood and Stone, it was misty and mystical, he walked through one doors and there, at the high table of the King, she waited for him. Catelyn Stark. Upon seeing her, his heart was shattered. Emotions ruled.

- My Queen. – Hello, Roose. You are keeping your vow to the end of days – he sits next to her. Both were aged, it was seen upon their elderly countenances and wizened bodies, yet, the spirit was young as the spring. Both weren’t any longer in the romance and some crazy love, the two found their common ground and what little might be thought, understanding through what is called the love when the beauty wanes and Old Age takes over. Putting the rough, but gentle hand over hers, they have loved. – How are you? Cate? – Usual. – You know that you are the most gorgeous woman ever in this world. You should have been mine. – I am now. Come back…with our boy, I will be waiting for you. Roose! – Our partners left us, it is time for us and your full family!

They knew who was behind their meeting, closing the gap, they kissed, in that moment, Jon materializes himself before both, with his beaming Elf face.

- Jon!

- Lady Mother! – she kept her promise, it was the strong desire against it, but she melted for him and cherished her boy too, not just because he was Ned’s, even though she knows there is no other woman, no other than his birth sister, notwithstanding, he was Elf, thus, she searched for the deeps within, reached and grabbed the love. Mother and Son took each other’s in arms and held for some time, Roose received what he yearned for, disappearing from Jon’s dream, most grateful.

- Are you eating well and change your underwear regularly.

- Lady Mother! I am a man now, don’t treat me like a child. Don’t speak so… - she let a laugh. – Sorry, forgive me. I am old. Not only beauty, but intellect is not what it was – he cuddles her older fairness between his elfin hands.

- You are like the wine, both virtues are complimenting you – she gives him a smile of the vision while he continues, thawing him to the point of crying – at some point, you were even charming Jaime Lannister, he wished to have a relationship with you until his father didn’t instill some reason back, in him. Retaking, never reclaiming, supremely what is regained, he owned and now he stumbled upon the woman, the first one in his life for which he has nothing but the feelings of esteemed respect and fellowship. Who would ever think!? – Indeed. What is her name? – She is She–Elf. – Oh, another! – both snicker. – Tauriel and there is her brother Elf. Haldir, he is my Lord Hand, she is Healer and our Guide, at first he was but this fits him better. – As it would some ladyship to her.

He was working on that. Jaime thus far was throwing a net over her to catch her. Without any influence of his. The mind of humankind is strong and brisk. However, there was someone with whom he had to speak too, about Lannisters and their house. She understood, going away, leaving him alone with Robb Stark who heeds his call, and when he came into being in front of Jon Snow, was Azor Ahai, the fate he had chosen himself. Father knew it.

- Father, the Old Wolf was aware of everything. – He ate a lot of apples in Paradise, the Heaven we call both Eden and Valinor. Jon Snow. – I see, you look mighty and firm. Resolute. You are around others, nothing revolves around you. – No. My King, so, what is the order? – it was implausible not to notice the mature change, to the turning point where Jon is the one who hesitates.

- I know your grievances about Lannister House and the certain Silver Little Lady…she likes being addressed as such. – Very well. It is gone at this instant along with my old self. Whatever you ask, I shall bend knee to it. I see those forests through all of trees! – this was it. Jon with a struggle, admitted the defeat. He was always ahead of him, one step ahead, not because he was trueborn or elder brother. He was…Ned’s son while he is simply his personification, this was the blood speaking. – I have master plans for the North. If I don’t survive, it is my wish that you continue where I stopped. Where I stall, for you to finish and don’t dissuade me. I am passed that, for a novel realm to arise of my own that will be put to the service for others and under my perpetual protection.

- Baby brother – Jon is the molted mess whenever he calls him in such a way, more than when he is addressing him with the Big brother. – Tell me? Speak or show. – There are changes in the North, I have been supplying you with the intel. – And? - Out of all, the Sword. – Anyone?! – That is the thing. No one. – Arya? – She didn’t…yet. – Why? – Her silly sentiment, it reminds her of Father. She doesn’t take what is father’s to some length. There is the legend that Ice was born from it. Lightbringer.

- It is understandable. Make her do it and...will you accept Jaime as a new King after me? – All you need is to order. – I am not commanding, I am asking – without hesitation. – Yes.

Jon was so relieving, feeling glad, not just taking or holding, sweeping him in his tight arms, because it is the strongest tie that was ever shared between brothers. The dreaming is vanishing and Jon had felt that stirring, it was the disturbance after disturbance in the Magic. By opening his eyes, he looked at the direction where are Brienne and Roose, with his eyes of the Elf, he saw far reaches as long as he could keep it and there, the inception of the evil has sown its roots which are not affected by frost, nor they can be reached, but they are with something divergent. Brienne woke up draped in cold blood, bleeding amply. From where?! Roose was yanked from his sleep in most harrowing way, noticing by his side a horror, helping while she screams. Never before she lost such control of self.
*
Arising everyone on their feet…encircling her and Jaime’s baby. Dragons end the dance. While Bolton kissed one hand of Queen, Jon kissed both.
*
Cast me in whatever image you want, I mirror the Death. Dragons are either born with you or Dragon eggs chose you, but rarely one is given birth by Dragon Rider, such as was Honeybee.
*
In the back of minds, Lannister’s words are echoing, all life we pile gold in heaps, this is where we invest, you barely ask except for necessities while my true gold now is dying along.

Chapter 131: Within reach, I am born human

Chapter Text

Do you draw your strength, Jon Snow, with the power of your blood or you are finding it in yourself? You are but a mere mortal to me. Jon Snow. Listen, mind my soft words, spoken only for you to hear. I see you, Jon glances up, seeing the Eye of One Ring, as soon as the hallucination has passed, he was back to the reality. One Ring, Mordor. This is the Nucleus of its Power, this is its flesh and skin, the bones and blood vessels. God Help him, but if he doesn’t pass this trial with his people, nothing matters. One Ring won’t win no matter the outcome. Now, Jon knew why One Ring is so strong, it was extracting from the suffering. You must suffer so that the Ring stops functioning, this is why Celebrimbor garners as much as suffering, all around him and within his kingdom in the War Pits where the captives are forced to battle among themselves or even Elves, not for fun, this is what gives the One Ring…POWER, as long as there is the suffering, it surpasses everything. How do you stop to suffer when it is the part of life?

Oh, pouring all the intellect and malevolence, indeed, Celebrimbor, putting aside your morbidity, you are one ingenious Dark elven Prince. Bravo. Bravo. Ingenuity found in Feanor, just the same. Remember, you won’t see my Eregion burning, I won’t allow you near, by one foot to my Hollin. And you are never going to save your sister from me. I was Littlefinger. I was the Devil and I was all the faces you deemed to hate. For you hate and I love it, no more harboring for elven kind and yet, there is the Ring, the One you abhor. And I coax you, give me more. It is the most beautiful darkness I have ever seen in someone. Jon Snow. You can’t defeat me. Do not sacrifice yourself. Join me. You can’t dominate me, only suffer myself. You are not my equal. Snow!

You are the extraordinary man even now, before your awakening, before your blooming powers, at present, you wish to best the Dark God? Foolish, but in the end, you are the idiot, just like your human Father, just like all those great persons before you, just like your ancestry. For the Power of the Ring can’t be undone. My brother. For the more suffering you give me, I am stronger. By now, it was maddening him, but he wasn’t mad. No, the One Ring couldn’t do anything to him anymore.

He is freed. Jon’s voice is not the broken violin, the first word he spoke was the one ethereal, and both Haldir and Tauriel in all the tragedy, were recognizing, this was his real voice. The one of the elven, not of human. Others would process it much later while the Dark Lord of Shadowing is searching for the gratification and the proof of his personal validation. Roose never left her, he stayed along with Jaime and Rhaenyra, with everyone else. Ygritte was channeling her powers to get rid of the negative energy, Lady is licking. Elves are preparing potions and tinctures, some are already given to her, Tauriel is both healing and saving the baby. Jon could only watch, ordaining instructions.

He could face all the fell hordes of Demons, but this…he had no power any longer. He had a right to use it only once for Jaime, no more. If his Sam were here, perhaps, and like it was meant. Sam appears as his Muse. No one could see him, whispering what should have been undertaken, disappearing. Humans could feel, just as Jaime and Roose, the presence of Sam. He was here and from here, Jon could perform. Saying to both Tauriel and Haldir what this is.

- Black Arts of Bloodmage. Saruman. Is there a cure?! Could I conjure or channel or do something?! Tell me what to do!?! – he was on the edge and Tauriel stood up, enshrouding his bulky frame, holding his arms in her both strong ones, never breaking the eye contact. – She is gone. Jon, we lost her – who…what? Jon hadn’t registered what she voiced to him, until he understood, it was divulged to him. Brienne lives. Baby is not.

Jaime was holding the fetus in his hands. So small, it would be a boy. Deformed, the skull was protruding the little head. It was the abomination. They saved his precious woman at the cost of the child that wanted to kill her. One Ring. Jon’s madness doesn’t overthrow his sanity, it bends, aiming to one place, no, to one person only. Celebrimbor. I told you. Jon. Suffer, suffer…fill me. And Jon did exactly the opposite. No. You won’t sin. His knuckles are clenched. No. You won’t, and he feels it, the miracle in his hands, because he hears somewhere in the back of his sane senses, of soundness of mind that Brienne won’t give birth, never more. That won’t be her fate. She is the Daughter of Shieldmaidens, and all who came before, after or will ever Be!

- Move, Jaime…move – never allowing for the man to break, for he was breaking through all Walls, he is breaking the Wheel and Wall along what he used to be, at this day, he is what he is destined. Jaime distinguishes it when Jon swept him in his embrace of Potency. Even Dragons gave space for Jon, small and scared, because they didn’t know what should they do. Someone tell them. To transform, to burn, to desolate, but they were useless. All that Power and Strength, for naught. Reduced to nothing, until Jon didn’t take Jaime’s hand while in another still held his dead boy, Jon is speaking, for the first time, acknowledging that Jon has changed along with the voice – listen to me, human. You are the most outstanding man I have ever met. You are so much more than people were giving you any merit. You are exceptional. You hear me. I know what this is about. Grieve, do not suffer. Don’t give in to despondence, depression and a feeling of hopelessness. You understand? Tell me that you f*cking grasp what I am telling you to do. This is what he wants! DO NOT f*ckING SUFFER. Glorious LANNISTER, for some reason, he is after you, perhaps, you are too emotional or you have just professed the truth. Do not give him what he wants, do not fall to the darkness – Jon clutched that one hand, gripping Lannister so strong that he could break him for real.
Due to his uncontrolled experience, the taste of real world, he was lost in the immense pain, and hearing that voice of Jon Snow, helped him to find his ground, not giving in to the hatred. He broke, cracked into cries, weeping into Jon who holds him still, smeared in blood while an infant was being cold and quiet, like Halls where he won’t let out a cry, not a sound to hear. Rains of Castamere.

The chilly rain which is mudding the clear waters, was falling upon the man who lost his child, who grieves for the woman who was on the verge of losing it all. He can’t take it. They were so happy, but there was that miracle. Never permitting for Jaime to fall. He won’t. He is their Kingsguard, not the Slayer of the Kings. Jon never let that hand, never freeing it. Guiding him to her womb, above it, Jon was the catalyst that was sending such the swelling energy into her body that after all the sufferings, Brienne was back to herself. It was the wonder and awe, the marvel to see. She is standing up, on her feet. Untarnished, unbesmirched, for she was in the totally clean attire with the ability to give another birth, someday, for her health is back, and her regained vitality is flourishing inside.

- Brienne – he is cradling her distressed being, the deranged self, bringing together with Jaime whom he saved from himself, never releasing them from his hold jointly with their lost child. Everyone else at that point was questioning themselves, not with doubt, but with the assurance, where did he get or receive that might to counter the influence of One Ring? Is he truly…is he…their Savior?! – Brienne, listen to me. Are you listening? come back to your old oneself, come back – she sobbed. – Do not suffer, there is nothing to suffer. Mourn but no suffering, no hatred. From here forth, only love. Love him, Brienne. Love this God Forsaken and good for nothing man, but for one thing, he loves you endlessly. I order you – his consciousness was slipping, taking its toll, weakening him. She nods, smiling a bit, gazing at her Jaime who cuddles her from then, jointed with their lost son, baby they could have, but it was taken from them, lost to the death, at least, she is all right, they are loving each other, and the Power of One Ring was…done. Celebrimbor, for the first time in his entire immortal life, saw how One Ring FAILED. NO! NO!

Sansa was disturbed by the dreadful grumbling of the elven man who made her his. She listens, after some while, she retakes her hope. One name on her lips. Jon Snow. My brother. He is doing this. Fighting him! Go Jon GO! Never anyone could ever confess that this ever happened, this was the first, but not the last time who did this to the mightiest. Jon Snow realized what powered One Ring. I know you. Celebrimbor. At this instant, I know everything. No more. You have no power here. No longer. Celebrimbor. GET THE f*ckING AWAY FROM MY PACK! One window in his obscured bedchamber, the Quarter of the Fallen, Fell and Lost Angel, the Dark one, was smashed to the tiny shreds, startling even Celebrimbor.

The tied bedroom, next to his, adjoining, was of his Princess, Red Wolf. He is yet to become conscious of what he is missing in his life, losing and it could be her too who could resist him. Because, he is the one who is open to vulnerability. f*cking Jon Snow. The nightmare for One Ring. The baby will be buried, yet Jon fainted, disturbing everyone around him. Helping him to recover while Rhaenyra took care of the Dragons, with no lamenting but being present for everybody.

Unbound, the lives are saved and a virtue of innocence defended. Jon regretted to all that he didn’t figure it out earlier. Losing the control, falling and sleeping. The family of Jaime Lannister is now united. Both Brienne and Jaime took Rhaenyra and the Dragons in their loving embrace, just clinging to the hanging thread. Tauriel is giving him mouth to mouth, compelling his heart to start beating again. Haldir helps, until Roose didn’t hit him so hard in the chest that he broke his hand, Tauriel is healing it, Haldir holds Snow to take back the precious air into his lungs.

Ygritte wasn’t solely feeling reprieve or simply reprieving, she licked her Owner after such a long time that has passed, relieving him in the process of recovery along with the rest. Lady sensed Sansa, there, she is just behind those Red Hills and Demon Cliffs. I am coming. Your Lady Direwolf is coming for you! We are here, all of us! Wait! Sansa! And Sansa, harks into the night of Wolf’s Moon. Her Lady was howling. Sobbing the tears of felicity. Lady! I will take it all on me, I will suffer, I will bear it. I wait for you. In the middle of the dead of all nights, for the little he gave her as respite from him, presently, he came to claim back. Did not rape her, still, didn’t give her even one thought to slide without him knowing. Through fingertips. Nevermore.
*
Indulging Rains which fondled their frames, had ended and with them, even the curse of Lannisters.
*
Creation seeks Sacrifice, but to Create Life of its creations, demands Grace of heart.

Chapter 132: Daydream with open irises of wildflowers, Targaryen Elf

Chapter Text

Not all dimensional universes of all types are related to one another, except for realizations. Jon would be able just to mount his dragon and fly over there, even though the transformation won’t last, even if it does, it is the suicidal attempt where everyone dies, leaving all his men behind. There is Rhaenyra, but it is like leaving the lambs for slaughter, for he needs them at the final conquest of Eregion. Yes, this is what he does. Conquering, all the time, he was doing just that. For whom but for his people and land. For whom than for survival of his kindred, for whom other than his kind, and considering the Demon Forces which would be there to greet him, it would be the most impulsive and thoughtless grand scheme ever done, calm down.

Use your mind. This is what he wants you to do. Precisely. Oh, no…I am not falling into your pitfall, nevermore. Not him or anyone else. He will take the longer path which is perhaps even more hazardous. For who knows, from where you were harvesting your sullied legions that you are sending at Us.

- Wherever you go, the mark is on your back, nowhere to hide, but to come to me. – Not to give you ever that relish. – Do not ruin your life with the unessential personal and private Hell you made for self – they were in a dream, this is what occurred before Jon was back to his awareness by Roose who broke his hand, now healed, to resurrect him. – Tactically, to compensate where are disadvantages, to use those to your vantage, to tame a fear where your only asset ensures survival is the sign of improvising and learning during the fight. Jon Snow.

- Gods and demi Gods, above all, stand the sovereign. Sharing the same Allfather, Celebrimbor. – Never truly free, shadowing you. They say, be the change you want to see in the world. Let me tell you something. You believed them naively, foolishly. That if you are in the center of all happenings, that you may change something. You can’t do anything!

- I am not your puppet. Not yours. – Never to let you go. You belong to me as a slave. My brother, Jon. – You are right about one thing. You can’t do nothing to me! You hear me?! NOTHING!

- Enjoy your freedom while you still can and lasts, for I will own your soul, and it won’t be pleasant the more you resist me. Give up.

- I said, you are not breaking me or dominating. Never! Brother.

- Hm, it is interesting, you call upon the Time of Never, and in time, all is changed. You like things to be simple, to be kept light, but it isn’t so, with all your righteousness, you are creating the abnormality of the world, and such an enormity is the road to Hell which was paved by good intentions. Jon Snow. You think that one won battle is you winning this childish war against me? You can take all your battles, I win War!

Jon Snow doesn’t know what to counter. He had everything and still nothing. For where Celebrimbor is drawing out his strength of character? Only what he was conscious of next was that he was lost in the mist and foggy haze, the trees were wilting and bare, the ravens were cawing at him, with their blood – spattered eyes. They were mouthing to him something, relaying the message. From each side, the Wraiths were appearing, Souls of Ring, he was surrounded, he is going to become consumed. Yet, as little might be thought, at that time, and in that hour, Princess Marge comes into the light, taking Jon’s hand, keeping it tight and close to her heart, using all of her higher mysteries to bring him out, into the interspace. Relegating to him words.

- Just listen to my voice, my brother by the same father. You recognize me? – Yes. Margaery. You are my sister, I am your brother, we are bastards, except, I am the son, you are a daughter, for your likes, there is no shame, I know you and your face. I know your southwestern Wall of Holy Land where golden roses are budding and blossoming, very rarely anywhere else in the world with such beauty and grace, your crafts are passed down from your Grandmother who turns out to be your…Mother. – You are speaking truth. Go on. – There is no equal when it comes to my capabilities, yet, only what I come across are Walls. - They said to me the same, if you are good – looking, you have powers and hold luxuries, you should be happy. Are you happy? You have everything, are you rejoiced, Jon? – No. I am not. I am so miserable. It is all an illusion they are feeding us – and the Ring fades along with the rest, finding themselves fully in one protected circle of the unsaid space, there, she explained. – I felt stirring of One Ring and I should have acted sooner to reach for you. It is getting stronger.

- Why is he so powerful? How can you fight such hate? – both are still holding each other’s hands, it soothes them, makes them comfortable, Jon even squeezes slightly, Targaryens are not less because they dream, it is their advantage, to Original Elves it is the changing culture unlike the Reimagined, she does the same with a little squeeze, returning love. – My Sister, tell me. – Brother – she twirls around to meet him, face to face, both are embraced together, locked in love. – If you weren’t my half – brother, I think I could make some love with you – he smirks. – Targaryens sleep with their sisters and nephews or nieces. – We are Starks. That is a big difference. Don’t you think? – Your husband would be jealous.

- I like to make him so, as he does the same with me. – Daemon Targaryen. – Yes, can you just picture it? In another dimension, my grandma should have been married to a Targaryen, it was such the rage, the trend of that time, and she didn’t, and look at me?!

- Is that your victory? Are you happy? – she can fool everyone, she couldn’t Jon Snow, there was something about him, when he sees right through your soul, right away. – Don’t I look beautiful enough? People used to talk how when you are loved, you are…flourishing along. – No children, yet? – That isn’t the case. There will be, there is. Daemon is the one who has…issues. – What kind? – Sometimes, it is up, and when he needs to finish… - it was the fault on his side. – This is what we agreed upon, no children until he doesn’t sort it out. He has become mortal and it impacted him a lot. – Is it so? Then, I had got good news for you - she is puzzled, feels insecure, the feeling she doesn’t get rightly.

- From this evening, he has no problems. – Wow, just like that?! How?! What did you do? – At least, that is my debt paid – upon saying it, Marge, clenches him. – Anywhere, and anytime. Sister and brother, not half, but siblings of Ned Stark. We share the same blood, whenever you need me. Call upon my Wall. I will send it to you. I am with you. I am yours. Jon Snow. You have another sister, just like I have other siblings too, and I met them – cupping his head, fondling it in her elegant hands, he enjoys all what she gives, leaning into akin to a small boy who was starved with no enough love, it was never satisfactory, not ever to suffice at all – thank you because you live, this is all what anybody can pass to another. Don’t be hard on yourself and live, thank you for being born, Jon – kisses him on the manful cheek, inciting the blushing, he was such a sweet boy.

- And I have something for you – he is still blushing whenever he receives the love, shyly looking at her, for he was so much hungering for the love, that it is never satisfied, and whoever gives it to him, he is theirs to the end of blood and death. – Marge, I just… - Even if you didn’t help, of which I got sensations, perceiving and so, follow my lead. On the next tall tree that you stumble upon, dig it out. – Why? – There is a gift from me, to you. I never had my real brother to bestow him, but I have you. I have given up on another, to have you. I will pay for my sins, you don’t need to go down with me, my precious little brother, for I am the oldest of you all. I am Stark, but I am also Tyrell. And I take good care of my family, you are the only brother I have for myself. The only. I have no one else. You made me feel worthier today than ever someone else did it for me – she runs her lean fingers through his opulent tresses, so rich and of the full thickness, he was a dream to all visions - when all finery is stripped of you, what stays is You!

Jon yearned for more, more love, don’t leave me, but she did. Hunger he feels after One Ring depleted him so, it is still lingering. She filled him wholly and he wakes up, upset about Roose who just laughed it off. It was the honor and his hand will be just fine. This is the due which Jon can never hope to repay, hugging the Old Man, the Wolf of his own merit whilst everybody else was in such the release from the sheer distress when he got up, expressing his gratitude he is partaking together with them. Patting and handshaking, even hugs as it goes. Tauriel was all tearful, Haldir kept it to himself when everybody was joyful and displayed it in the fashions only known to them for which Jon is so glad, that he is back to his people who suffered with him.

- Marge, she helped me wake up as well! – people stayed pleasantly surprised. – What did she tell you? – the wise man asked, Roose. – There is something she left for me, a gift, at the first Tall tree we encounter. We must dig. – Then, what are we waiting? The sister left a present for her brother, I assume, you did the same? – he laughs. – She would do it anyway, she is just like that. – Randomly you were gifted, even I am by the side of all others somehow excited – people agreed and here they are, discovering something that at first confounded them verily, because it is a chest of wonders, the one that turns the sadness into joy. Opening it, his Pack and even Elves got very astonished. Tauriel squealed with all else.

He started taking it out. Every single piece of it, and there it was, at the bottom, his virtues were on the loose, looking back, as he is searching for permission, but people simply urged him. He did it. It was the black Dragon Helm of Targaryens. But not any, this was the one upon which the golden runes were laid, who protect the wearer and struck the fear into enemies. Bat Wings of Dor-lomin. Sindarin name which means, Land of Echoes. Legolas’s homeworld. From boots to gloves, capes and armor, all was dark-black, not even the single thing about it had any other color upon. The Black Knight, just like Daemon Targaryen whiles his birth father was the White.

People do not hide their excitement, no more. Convincing him to put it on, wear it. They will aid him and so it was until the last crown wasn’t in its place, he turns to the Pack. It could be said that Tauriel was like a cheerleader, the only who couldn’t shrink back from her real personality by others who awed, she beams alongside Rhaenyra, the two who bonded so well, hugging each other back. Everyone is more satisfied than ever and the Wolves and the Dragons with the rest were either howling or rumbling. Lannister’s armor of auric is something that could rival, the one which Jaime wore, but this was utterly something on the other level. After such a suffering. Brienne and Roose had something to look forward to. Haldir approached him, scrutinizing the last of the bearer’s armor. It was strong, it was adamant and it was sculpted from the raw Valyrian Steel. For whatever reason, he is going to need it. Taking off his Helm, there is no longer any silver thread to grow back.
One day, armor, Longclaw (offering of Ned Stark, from the last vein of the purest form of Iron in Misty Mountains, greatsword is forged) will belong to Turin, his son and a Dragon Helm of Dor lomin. For there are already legends, that the child who comes from Jon Snow is ordained to fight Shadow.
*
Just like his father before him. By purple eyes he shall be notoriously world known as Elf – Man.
*
Celebrimbor still insists. Join me my brother and together we will build Empires, in time others will fall into our temptations. We shall be the unbeatable.
*
No, Lord of the Darkness. King is given everything by his people, it is down to him, all upon him, one and only to give back for all. What stunned the most, was the War Dress, similar to his Black Armor, waiting for Rhaenyra Targaryen of House Lannister, to wear and ride along.
*
A finishing touch of Rose with no thorns, for all Starks are Wargs, but not all Wargs are same.
*
Mark my words, humans. You are nothing but elements for elven cause. Grey receives colors.
Out of despairing tears of salt and smoke of fire, even Azor Ahai of love sacrifice was reborn.

Chapter 133: In our bondage of Darker Entities

Chapter Text

Haldir of Lorien was the one who is overseeing the progress of Jon Snow and what he saw, was something he admired, while across the Sundering Seas, in Valinor. Cersei is waiting immortalization in the separated room, jumpy and secured by the High Guards. This is what she wanted, but not with the traditional way that ensures she lasts. Hearing about it and listening, abandoned are new Gods for the sake of the Old Ones. However, not in this way, blessed were the ones who had no need to go through it, now she has to. If she started drinking Turgon’s potion, she would be eventually coerced into going through this. Living through it all. Fingolfin decided it would be for the best. She has no say when it comes to it, and after it, follows the pregnancy. No fear, soon all is over. This is what he told her. Just for her to remember to stay focused. The pain is passing. Didn’t have to wait for a long, he came with the entourage. Offering her hand for her to take willingly. It is her choice if she wants immortality. Looks up, she takes it with fears.

Trusting in the High Heavens of Holy War, Eternal battle and the Crusade of all crusades. After, it will be just a fable she narrates to her scions. Take a deep breath, and take that walk, wherever they are taking her or plan to do with her, to her life, never forget this is what you craved for. Cersei Lioness. It all comes down on what she is going to make of it. She gains something in return, the power to change billows for her…humankind. For the North, who would ever tell of her becoming of the North, she was from the South and East, someone who borders somewhere in between, to be adored and worshipped, to be chosen. She is, and all her sins cleansed. She deserved it. Let her blood flow in elven fluids, she will rise and be regenerated. The first High Queen who is human, not Empress, but something close, and what was the irony is the fact that Fingolfin was the High King of the Noldor, the North Elves who had their place among the Highlands in Valinor, all the while Vanyar are Dragon Elves in the mountain peaks and Teleri are Sea Elves.

- Your Highness, are you ready? – the Sealer asks her like she doesn’t know what he prepared, she heaves her neck high. – Let it be cut and clean.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel coming closer to the destination with his unexpected fellow people, he had an urge to speak with his chimera son of the human flesh made, the one in whom now beats the mortal human heart of Targaryens. He was calling to him, unknowingly, and Golden Flower had no other choice but to answer to the calling of fatherhood. Finding the place under the tree for they took a rest, he closed his eyes. Searching through a veil, him.

- Ah, there you are. Daemon. My loveable son, what is the matter? – Father – he becomes visible to him, not just the contours – I think I have made a mistake. – How grave? – I haven’t judged the situation wisely. Human beings are so…complex.

- You were one of them. Orphan slave. You came with me. – You chose me. I was wooed by you, others are not free, but live among us as broodmares or breeding mares. – As mates, my dearest son. – I am your only son. – Don’t change the subject, I am in the expecting mood. – What is that supposed to mean? – I am going to meet my good friend, not the best, but very good and old of mine. – Celebrimbor. You play a dirty game. – Ugly and dangerous, just the way I like it, to me, life would be boring if it were anyhow different. You should learn from me, not being stuck in your solemnity, but that is you and I am I, hm, it rhymes great, my sullen male heir. – To mortals, to humans, it isn’t that simple – Glor breathes out.

- Tell me, then, and I am going to make it right.

- My wife still doesn’t know what I did.

- Before she even finds out, it will be taken care of. So, tell your Father, what is this, such a big deal to vex you?

- I sold one slave girl…I mean, she is the slave from the first day of annexation of Riverlands to our House, it was just about a time to happen.

- Let me guess. I want to play a game, they are fun. Is it about the rebellious factions? You gave her… To that Pirate Woman who turns out to be Lady Commander of Queen’s Guard? Nice, very nice, more than pleased and she is satisfied. – Yes. – I see no problem, she is kind and gentle with…

- You don’t understand, her Sire and that friend of hers, I had to let them see her, visit her, and her family demands her back…she is sold! She doesn’t belong to them any longer and she lost her freedom to us…and that boy next to his Sire’s place, he is also, already…reserved for someone. – Practically, you wish for me to clean your mess? – after some time, Daemon answers. – Give me any advice, some counsel…what should I do? They are our new…allies who are strongly connected to the North. Azor played on that card and I took it, I never believed that it would be that tricky. – The only guidance which I may give you is that what is done is done. No going back, as soon as you establish the fact, the more you don’t delve deeper, but slyer. – You mean, offering? – Yes, compensations.

- I did…in everything possible. – No, my son, life can be only paid in life. Marry some of your generals to the House of Fish or some nice Targaryen Lady, do it and you see results.

- That easy?!

- Humans are wired this way. Just color or stain their eyes a tad. – I thought that you are reconsidering slavery.

- I never reconsider slavery as slavery, because what they see as enslavement, to us is binding. It is far from thralldom. Are there hard labor for working class forever? Not all are straight away becoming our fellow people in all the roles we put them in. Even the most gruesome as the Breeders for the Bees or other reproductive necessities of breeding. Toil is just one of them of any kind, once it is delivered and once it is finished, they become our full citizens, incorporated, integrated and accepted. Annexed, there is no subjugation in that, only delusions of humankind. And don’t deceive yourself because I changed my ways, that I am going to alter the practices and traditions of the elven kind. We need humans. This is the best way of not lightly acquiring them, giving us the meaning, but also making them ours without any need for furthering the gap of bloodshed, for we are attaining them for free in the large numbers. Riverlands will be populated anew, occupied and colonized by all lineages and sorts of life. It will be beautiful, you shall see. Just endure for some time and every year, you will have a fresh harvest you collect in crowded lines. People will start, all by themselves, to turn to your House, to work or serve you, in any way possible there is, the people who will commit themselves and do it honorably for they lack in the only downside which we have in abundance.

- Money, gems and gold, means and lands.

- Of course, for certain, you surely trust the actuality that they won’t come to you? They will beg for it, in rows to be able to be put into services for Elves, thus feed their families, provide for a better life, and later, to even offer themselves by their own will to Targaryens alone if it is essential, be ushered in the breeding program, even selling or buying will become needless, break from those customs, only in the rare moments for other Elves or among selves, and everything for expansions of the bloodlines, posterity and breeds, upon which, we sustain the civilization of Elves, for the Allfather was most wise when he gave us humans, like he knew what will befall us for the cause unrequited completely, this is why it is not plainly our blame, but the Guile of the Gods! We just take and offer it back. Slavery, my boy, slavery, the true one is what does Celebrimbor. We are not Saints, but he is a lunatic! For this is what I am bleeding for at this point of my life. – Father, for someone who is called Clown and considered as One, you are smart. – No, my son, you see…the easiest way to trick people are for them to underestimate you, to believe that, in that way, when you are a fool, it is easier to conquer them without even knowing, they already lost and are conquered by me. I have become smarter, not smart. Use your mind, that brain of yours, or brains, whatever. If Stark boy is the most capable human strategist alive, you are of Elves.
He grins similarly to the Sunshine who is shining upon all of us. Some even say, when he is gone, he takes even Sun with him.

- By the way, how is your baby sister? My prodigal daughter. – Gondolin, returned to you. – Good. I wouldn’t like to come and get her, she may visit you, but Gondolin is her home. – Actually, you would love to come, she is the one who thinks otherwise – he chuckles gleefully.

The interactions were complete, howsoever, before he could open up his eyes back, even lift a little, there is some stirring, the disturbances in the Magic World. Something isn’t right. Someone broke through dimensions. He had to answer a due invitation, and he wouldn’t be him if he would stay denied. No one denies him, except Bolton. Ah, if he would belong to his Harem, he would live like a King and be f*cked like a shameless Mistress, even fill him with his seed, oh yeah, he licks his full lips eagerly. How could he even resist him or turn him down? Look at him?! Glorious golden mane, curled and water falling across his herculean elven built, the wisdom is in him, the skill and power, good heart as far as it is feasible with the godlike strength. He is everyone’s dream. It must be that Boltons are easily idiots or brain dead. They would be mated more than well. Yet, they have no idea what they are doing to themselves. Devolving into the chimpanzee! It must be the water you drink. He accepts everyone regardless of anything, and still, he has got this problem where Harem is empty. Oh well. Perhaps, he should start his hunt on the humans when Celebrimbor is spanked thoroughly or put over the knee as he did his niece. Those are valued memories. Wait, who is this? Before him is a likeable personality, tender as snow. Are you my Daenerys?!
*
Is this someone else to taste by the first touch, oh try my, making the most out of circ*mstances, drawn so and tied to my being of bent strength of will.
We do not require your mouths or tongues, we read you, break through your walls, albeit, we do wish bonding on worhtwhile levels by willingness. Kinkiness gives us chaining pleasure we put you in but heavy disappointment when there is thick eagerness for your human release.

Chapter 134: Skyborn - Atrium

Chapter Text

There is a multitude of reasons to look forward to a daughter, for no one will look at you as she is or tend to you, be present at every corner of your life, and yet, everyone is discarding the love for the sake of the banes of houses. Glorfindel was different and his approach was somewhat pragmatic. He doesn’t estimate people by bloods, even though it seems that all is revolved around the name or blood, he knew the truth. It was all an illusion by which he was constructing here and there, the world, so that it would be less obvious when it comes to the certain matters. People are so deluded that the name, blood or connection will defend them and for it they suffer most than any other, while the ones who are much worthier than someone would think are being taken away, pleading and crying for there was no remorse. He remembers, at one time, everybody was hearing how Glorfindel the Great is coming to conquer them too, and so, the Royal and aristocratic families made tributes in his name. From each house of commoners, both girls and boys were given, but they remained untouched.

When they were forced to the boundaries of their realm, there Glorfindel already awaited them. Rarely he rejects anything, still, this time, he saw for what it was. Why would he take a hundred of them, when thousands more are awaiting? The true treasures because they opined how they are above all others, so, there was no putting sacrifices into cages or tying them to the horse’s tails to lead them or casting over their rears. No. He gave them enough gold to feed and their sacrificed families to RUN.

He is not only giving them a time to escape, but to find a home somewhere else, everyone is going to take them in with the money, and there were not only closer settlements, hamlets and colonies, but with no danger at all, if there were, he took care of it and then, when the families are safely smuggled out. In the deadest of the nights, he entered, occupying all these dear Lords and their Ladies. Literally, he not only sacked the city of the richest people, but took each and every one of them to the last person as a parading treat, the spoils for his precious realm, to famous Gondolin, through their blood which will flow into their lineages, the great nations of Gondolin kingdom was expanded to the unmeasured reaches.

When it was falling only to be rebuilt richer and more majestic than ever, for the Downfall will either strengthen you or destroy you, each time they choose the favors out of the calamity which is undeniable and changes everything, that is why the first what is always done in such situations if they ever come is the evacuation of people, deeper into the mountains. Jon didn’t think of all those humans who also lived under the elven reign or within Gondolin Diamond battlements and Sapphire Walls. Thinking, they are loyalists, annexed and pandering fools. Little did he know, is that he knew nothing, but that was Jon Snow, his little ignorant nephew who would first strike and then ask questions. Wolves. Quick tempers and slow minds, he encompassed each and every of both virtues and flaws.

Where Wolf ceases to exist, the Dragon awakens. Two battling and warring forces live in Jon Snow, and this is what he will fight for the rest of his life. Having none and yet, all of weaknesses along for which come strengths. The lesson he learned that day, that daughters and women, by far are more treasured possessions for a number of reasons. And it all comes to the point of their gender. Men are competitive bastards, to women, loyalty and love is everything. Ambitions and aspirations had nothing to do with anything, except for personal improvement, but when it comes who sits on which chair, this is where all men ruled without any exception.

They were all the same, regardless of race, status or valuables. Men are defined by their reputations and positions, women by their beauty and kindness and he adored women, especially if there were baby girls, the real babies, he would take them, and out of them, for all times would grow the most outstanding women in mind and body, they become Wards of Elves who had their choice, similarly to the House of Dragon, only that they are far more protected and suffer from protective, and possessively territorial treatments by their Wardens.

Some mothers even did just that, giving up their female children, leaving them motherless, for the sake of their better future, while taking nothing in return, like some would do and regret for the remnants of their fleeting days for what they had sacrificed, the moment it is done, not seeing those children ever again, even if they wished, letters and visits weren’t denied, but everything else would change. In their misery and stubbornness, they would die mortally. He will never understand human beings, but he dreamed of daughters more than of sons. Sons are necessary to prolong the name, but why would someone extend his? He is one and unique? Will there ever be someone as Glorfindel?

No, all his sons would be just his shadows, this is why the one he did have, he adopted into House of Dragon, and the one he lost, it was a better investment to give life to a baby girl. He desired her to the point that he once even upon the gentlest snow on which three blood drops felled from his cut by his elven sword, made a wish. Pure as snow, unrelenting as fire and as beautiful as the Storm.

Born during the heaviest and thunderous one, he knew what he had to do. This is why she didn’t mature until the Third Age, remaining in her childish temperament, and only then she came to age, gaining her independence of maturity and the woman’s body because this Dany you met during the Realm of Fantasy was the Doppelganger of the truest one who stood in front of him. The time was trickling diversely through lots of spherical dimensions or realities, and he hid her where she could experience both torments and taste the sacrifice, no matter how painful it was to her.

- I found you. Finally. My Winter – silkiness is in her voice, the depth he loves, she wore the refined robes, just like he dreamed she would be, even better, she was far more gorgeous than he yearned, but the most important is that she had that seemly gratitude, the ladylike posture (goes crazy when a woman is as feminine as she possibly may be) Dragon charm about her, the courtesy of the father through whom she obtained the Targaryen blood of Fountain, just like House of Feanor, irrespective if it is close or distant, those genes are passed down. She will meet him too, finally to be reunited. For all these kinds of Demi, Half or full Gods flip their coins whenever a Targaryen is born, but they never paid heed to one Golden Flower, these were either of Light or Dark, all who fell before his feet. The most extraordinary Dragon Queen was given birth and here she was.

As the blooming spring nights of the radiant sunrise, when even the Lonely Mountain will turn to the emerald green.

- I like to ask anyone who heard stories and myths about me…even legends, to those whom I encounter, am I everything what they wanted me to be, what they saw in their dreams? – of course that he would know her, his splendid smile enlightens the dark inside her, not to be cheered or supported, but denied because that is the path that leads to hatred, and in where is hatred, there One Ring thrives. She is not exempted from a fate of Ring.

He did what he had to. And he did for good, for all them. To hide her because she would be the Fall of not his, but of herself for One Ring. It wasn’t the wisest, but this is how it will be. Let her stay here or let her be unified totally with the double Dany as a whole entity, finally to feel full, not like something is always missing in her life, the sister who was hers and the other way around, the one with the fulfilled wisdom and the mind of clever insight. Not yet, and if something happens, unplanned, he put in Drogon the message. Lead her to Essos and meet me there. She may stray from the path, pay for it, but there is no reason that he doesn’t revive her when she commits her indirect suicide, neither to seek revenge against anybody, it is his fault. This was the only way she can possibly learn that reigning and knowing people are two distinct sides of the same coin.

Better to unravel it a leaf by leaf, due to the obvious reaction to his kind elven voice he at any time uses in this situations, for the response he brought out of her, told him all. This was it. It is him. Her firm heart trembles. She wants all of him, doesn’t dare to come nearer, not if he doesn’t permit, she also covets to know all. About the one who truly gave her the Targaryen heritage, from whom did she acquire it? And through whose womb she was reincarnated as a woman. Now, it was the time. She made the first step. He allowed it. Sitting down in one of armchairs. Looking around. Pyramid.
They were alone in its splendor, the Great one, gazing up to see her unrelieved and uncompromising temperance which was very much and felt like it, distracted by the Power he emanated.

- I can touch that rawness in you. – My dearest… - I am your only daughter. – Don’t change the subject. – I can make you stay. – Without a proper kiss or hug? We got so far, by now? My oh my, we are advanced. – I have dragons. – Those babies? My dear, try them at me. I would like to see what they can do. – You burn. – Not with my elven shield. – It depletes you. – Not if controlled to the perfection, then it controls the one who attacks.

- DRACARYS! – the confessing room is altered and three headed Dragons, her children were there, but not even one obeyed her or moved from the spot, cringing instead, they flew away. Never before her children were running from challenges! She turns to the grinning Elf. – You see, they are professionals, I am the Challenge they can’t dare to taste like you – letting her not only sense it, but feel on her skin by lightly tossing her in the corner of the Wall, it didn’t hurt, it both frightened and amazed her. – What was that?! – Just a light breeze.

- That wasn’t a breeze, it was like – she got up fairly quickly, not brushing herself off – this entire Great Pyramid fell on me! – My bad, it must be I carried myself away – he wasn’t. This was him, playing a game. – You really don’t want to embrace me? – I don’t trust you. – I am your father. – You are all I desired to be, from one of you, I came into the being, and yet, you are a stranger, you are all strangers. – Sit by me, then listen to.
Reluctantly, she did. Staring into the limitless possibilities, in his elvish stature, into the emerald eyes and the kissed flock of hair as the golden sunlight, the more she got closer, the more she was bonded to him in shine. He talked so. They had time on their side. Is she a mortal? Not if she doesn’t want it to be. Is she a real Elf even without ears? Elf is not defined by the ears, except for what lies in wait, in them flourishes, and that is a glow of the magic, wherever they step, the nature springs up, sprouting, budding or growing, the more magical creatures are surrounding them, the more are placed into spellbound enthrallment even those of the hardest hearts who bring along Magic of the East of far lengths. North is her aim. Essos is Home of Dynasty!
*Angels and Demons alike:
I loved you before I knew your newborn name,
even when there is no even sliver of light,
never give in to the bleeding Dark.
That is what keeps the Devil at bay.
Wishing you to cave in to the eternal night!
The harshest lessons are learned by those you taught yourself.

Chapter 135: The wildest Elf alive, who ever breathed

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What should she do, even if happens that she loses all because of the road that is obscuring her heart, because of everything what he had shared with her, and all this Life of his, it looked to her unrealistic, but it was more real than the one she lived. She aspired to go there even if her time in here is still unfinished, there is that fear she can’t express in words. And through pitch darkness she hears the words of her father, not only she has, how he said so.

- I can’t verbalize in words. Protect those you love, care when they could care less, pass out the sentences you deem right, carry them out by yourself, but first think of consequences your decisions will create, and do not lose the loved ones, there is where madness waits. Anticipate your collapse of being human. Learn from my mistakes, not your own. And you will be able to find the light in the dark just as I did – she hugs him back, returning back the love, now, she remembered, this was her Dad!

Tears are mingled with felicity. All of a sudden, another appeared, it was Swan Prince, the way Glorfindel nicknamed him, it stayed, for he did resemble the Swan of his symbolic glistening fountains upon whose white and smooth stones were carved the most sophisticated of the animal kinds, the birds of graceful hope and goodness, just in the way they were. The most beautiful Elf of Gondolin there ever was before or later never will. This was the one through whom she became in, a Targaryen and next to him, uncloaks herself, was Melisandre, the surrogate mother, for where the biology of Elves fails, this is where humanity stepped in for her mother was never hers, nor did she die during delivery or anything what was said to her or what she believed, affections were mutually answered.

It was rewarding to know that all her doubts were cleared and now she can breathe a new life into herself, this is where it all blurs for Glorfindel and he woke up. It was real. He dreamed not just in the first time more clearly than ever, but it was him who connected with her with the rest of the family. Let them be with her, bond and talk, he went out on time. Not even noticing that Ramsay Bolton sat by him, watching his elven countenance that was smiling like a deceiving Clown.

- Someone would say that you are an Angel, mistaking it for the Devil’s leer if someone would look upon you. Appearances indeed fool us – Glorfindel skews his gaze upon his…potential Harem boy, well, he can always just dream. – Then how easily you approach me, before I was your bane, now I think you can’t exist without me. – I can, but I have nothing else smarter to do. Blackie is suffering another blackout of life and I don’t know these people. I am acquainted with them, I listened about them, but apart from that, I have nothing…in common. – What a revelation, of course you don’t. You are my boy. Ramsay – Bolton winces. – No, I am not. I love Sansa.
- Of course you do, if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be feeling so challenged by her. – Stop it. And don’t use your charm or voice or anything what you are doing, on me. It is the fail from the start. – As you say – he embraces his human shoulders. – And don’t touch me so lightly. I haven’t given you my permission. – I need your permission? – Yes, you do. – You enjoy it. – No, I don’t. – You are falling for me, everyone does. You want me to mate you?

- THE HELL!? I want you as a friend! – You are friendzoned?! – Bolton facepalms upon hearing this, there was no escaping this idiotic, clownish Elf. – Anyway, what you sapped, the shrouded entities we met… - I only offered the advantage that is crucial for survival. If I fought, I may win, but One Ring discovers me sooner even though it will uncover me eventually, but when I am ready, not when it wants. – You don’t react to each other, how is that probable? – The Pact during awakening of my raw powers and resurrections between Lord of Death and myself. – Wait, you died more than once?!

- Yes, I had but never I fell, I merely sacrificed myself for the necessary evil I represent, and everything what I told, the precautions I make, it all is up to the circ*mstances. I am just too strong not to be sensed by the rivaling if not equally matched opponents. I can sneak upon you and catch you, as I did have, in spite of all your running and cleverness. – You permitted me some upper hand? – It is more fun. – Glorfindel…you are not taking me back to your precious Gondolin.

- Sansa would love it! – The answer is no and you haven’t answered… - Glorfindel’s big hand covers his mouth. – You are preferable more like this and do not ask me much about what you don’t understand, this is something where I can’t interfere and not because of our mission, but for the benefit of the one who has to fight his own battles, I mean…how do you expect someone to surpass oneself if it is not permitted to happen? And no… - MMmmma mmm mmmm – don’t fight me, dammit it. It is useless for you to resist me or needless for you to battle such odds. Anyhow, I read you just fine in this way. Your natural defenses are down. – MMMMMMMmmm! – So we say all! – he releases Ramsay who fought for breath. – DAMN, YOU COULD SUFFOCATE ME! – That was a plan, then, I do mouth to mouth and you belong to me from then.

Of, for the Love of God, this man was OBNOXIOUS, even for an Elf! He really thinks this is how you make someone to fall in love?! Oh, God, his thinking was twisted and warped. f*ck this! Why is he so much drawn to him anyway? It must be that “thing” about him he uses whenever there is the potential spoil he may hunt down. What a f*cker! The biggest of them all! Ah, yes…he smirks delightfully. He hears you, read you, f*ck and dammit it.
- You are losing to me, fall for me, darling Ramsay, fall in love. – f*ck off! – Your command is my law and it is granted. – NO, no…no! – by now, his ass was naked and before Glor could penetrate him, his penis is left hanging and retreating to its place, it was…of course…Blackie the Behemoth, transformed in the mountainous black direwolf, his hoarse voice echoes while High Princess Lyanna and Emperor’s Prince along with Huan are watching a show, not making in the slightest even a movement to aid Glorfindel. They have done that on purpose, relishing for too much for their own good, well, it was that good.

- First, you stuff your tongue into his mouth and you don’t break free, then, you are threatening to violate him every single time he wants your friendship, you take advantage of it, and then, the penetration is what follows. – He loves it! – Help me, before he…memememmmm – You must agree with me, he is such a loving boy when gagged – his elvish hand is clenched around a half of Ramsay’s head, it was the sizeable hand that instills the submission. Just one.

- Glorfindel, let him go or your penis pride goes for regeneration. – Why does he keep coming, I let him go, it is his fault! – You are doing it, it is all your blame! – He loves me! – Ramsay rolls his eyes, it is futile to fight such a giant who may be burly, but he is also slender in other areas which make him agile, nimble and handy, to cut the story short, Glorfindel, when he is desiring, there is no way he will let go so easily his prey, so he simply relaxes in his Elf hold, he isn’t going anywhere if Blackie doesn’t sort this out, because it looks like he falls into the f*cking snare that traps him each single time, what is this secret of his which ensnares all the time?!

- I warn you for the last time. – I want to take him, he offered himself the last time. – He had a need, a justified reason, he was in need for a release, not you! – the Black Wolf, rare as the dark grey ones, was overshadowing Glor’s shadow in which the life is bathing, casting such an enormous affinity that it had become clear to Blackie, how finally he is managing to entice Ramsay all this time. – I felt convinced you are abusing your scent, or voice, or some sex appeal, but it is all about sensations! You are exuding your hormones!? For real! Elfie?! – Glor laughed it off so sweetly. – You caught me. – You misled me! – A little, it is always such fun! – Let him go! – He has relaxed himself for me – all of his mightiness in a massive body pressed, covered him wholly. Ramsay mutters into Glor’s hand, can’t let out a single sound, let alone a mere word.

This was the stalemate. The trio that was consisted of the Princess, Prince Elf and Huan was eating popcorns. What a drama. What is going to come about? So intense, what will be the option for Blackie? Will he allow for his Master to be ravished or just submit himself?
What is the alternative? Something what Glorfindel hadn’t anticipated. Blackie promptly appeared behind Glorfindel and bit his butt! Hard and strong. Glorfindel squealed like a pig he wasn’t out of pain, and all the three fell into frenzy of laughter, breaking bad into the mold, that popcorns were flying everywhere because of Glor’s rear that was healed in no time, Ramsay was saved and Blackie as the protagonist, got out as the winner. Ouch, that bite had to hurt tragically so.

In the meantime, another three who comprised of the Dragon Sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerberg who is the assistance if there are those who intrude or attempt to stop the Hunt, the Minstrel or the world and well - known Bard, Dandelion (called Jaskier, a good old friend) for his flawless singing that can bring you to the death even by the first listening (bless those souls), a pie with no filling, were together with no other than Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, passing through Mordor in search for the Head of Jon Snow, that is how it was paid and sought by the White Wizard. Soon, they are finding Jon Snow.
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Dandelion still can’t figure out how elven women impregnate human ones.
*
Oh, my dearest and unique elven aunt, soon, your Champion you chose, you steered personally while waiting in the light, will become headless. Your betrayal shall become complete.

Chapter 136: The Boy who was no King

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As the heavenly angel of darkness and death, Robb Stark had the yearning of his own, for the complete forgiveness for the Oath he had to keep when his father…no Their Father failed, to continue in his footsteps where no one else would. He went out, straight away into the Godswood, where God endlessly sleeps in its slumber, enshrouded in the young spring that will last for some time until the Winter comes again as it always does, bringing to us horrors and terrors of the dark, for the night is long and terrible.

Before the Heart Tree that won’t cry anymore everlastingly with the Wall with their tears of boiled oil in whose quest for the warning of the impending doom, nobody is hurt or the nature touched if we move away from your path. No more, it is just you, isn’t it? Father? You were always there. You never left. You, out of so many souls out there, you refuse to leave, you stayed because of us, becoming one with Universes, blended in, and this is how it will remain as long as we need you. And I need you now, Father. I saw things, I understand them, tell me, is this a good road? Am I wrong?! What should I do? Answer me, speak to me. Am I dooming someone, what if I do not walk a right lane, what if I delude myself, what if all is pretense and everything for nothing?

I do what I dreamed, and yet, why I feel so guilty because of it? I am ready if I wronged. Ice becomes Lightbringer, it light was casting the largest shadow upon the world that was enlightening those who are taught, not the other way around. He turns, Ned Stark manifests himself to Azor Ahai, the only to whom he will fully, for he is of both realms!

- Father! – Robb – the son wants to make a step, but he doesn’t. – It is me! – I know, Robb. Yet, I am not Allfather, just his Avatar. I always was and you are my son as much as any other I raised under my roof. – Dad… - Ned raises mildly a hand with the force, then put it down.

- Robb, there is something what I must say to you. I am rejoiced you reached me. – What is it?

- Your walk is for the loneliness, it was never for you to fill your heart with other things. It isn’t the hardest, but it is one of the loneliest paths of all. You are just not aware. Speak with Sansa, she will answer, for the time will come when you two will have to work together. Both of you would be critical for bringing the two Houses together, and don’t ask me how or when, all in due time, of which and where. Trust this Old Man, if one Bolton found within himself to still believe in the good of man, you may too. It is never for you to know. – Father, a glimpse, it would be worth of it.

- If I show you, it won’t be your will, that is the reason why mortal humans must never know or doubt the Higher Power. It is an illusion that just because now it is good in your life, that you have somehow acquired control of your existence. You did not. Anything can change if you stray from your trail you wade now, and it is the real one. The true. Ask for the forgiveness from her, you will see what I am talking, directly, for I am considerate how much I am missed, but all of this is just fleeting, leave even the smallest mark upon the world, the humanity won’t remember, something greater than us…will be so.

Robb took his God Father into his human arms, it was sweet, feels like Spring. He often bethought it is the sturdy Winter. Not the youthful Springtime.

- Don’t cry. You all the time cry. My Son, let me wipe them away, oh, my boy, of smoke and salt. – I was always a crybaby, what is your excuse?

Ned laughs softly. Never broken, even if it seemed so. Telling him the words to remember as the North does, he etched it into his soul of what is a way.

- Speak with your sister, call her. She is Warg also, through the Ring, she will visualize herself before you, don’t tell to your mother…not yet. Someday, not now, she is too mortal and human to comprehend and that is a great realization. Do not relay anything of it, because – he cups Robb’s childlike face between his father’s callous and hard palms – some truths are forever masked from the humankind for a very good reason.

Robb starts remembering, and he did see that it is only the recycled manner of Life, playing the game until there is the end and the start of the new one.

- When the beauty wanes, and all that is left is the naught for what you bled, then and only then, Azor Ahai will stand. You appeared, my son, not as someone who saves, but as a beacon, a Lighthouse for those who are coming. You are relevant to lead, never to rule. You are notable for inspiring in those who are lost, your wisdom and the profound knowledge that is the Bible into which all is centered. Your Sister is one of them.

Son and Father are separated, parted, and sundered. In his place, was standing, Sansa Stark, she heeded to her brother’s calling, he was changed as she.

- Did Father do this? – fondly smiled at him. – He had. – I am a little…nervous in front of you. – Don’t be. If you didn’t do it. Winterfell will be history. – Still, all those sacrifices, for what?!
- For us?! I realize it – she places her slim arms around her brother’s solid waistline. Did he get a bit weighty? – You gained weight?! – she teases him. – I did not! – he grew moody. – You did, just like Dad! – NO, I didn’t! – both broke into the healthy laugh. – Who would ever say, it suits you. – No, it doesn’t. – Since when? – I don’t know…I kept gaining weight. I am still myself, but I am not as lean as I used to be. Maybe I eat larger meals, but it has to be something tied with Lightbringer – the sword was standing rightly beside him, unmoving, strange it appears to her, it had the mind on its own.

- I believe I know what it is. – Enlighten me. – The sword is making you…less attractive. – Why would he do that?! – Extra fat on you, for…the survival you will need to lose – she beams at him – but you are just fine, see, I am fat too! – You are more than easy on the eye. When men are fat, hardly someone wants them. – Why are you so resentful?! – she loves to tease him a lot, not provoking, but just jesting. – Because we should speak of far important things, not my appearances, and I am convinced that extra lard on me won’t make the worlds fall, still, I am on a diet. – Even Jon would be surprised, but he wouldn’t mind. He is Elf. – Don’t talk about him.

- Jealous? – Always shall be, it seems, it all goes back to him no matter…ah…this evening, I must skip my supper, I can’t come before anybody as some piggish ruler. – You are more virile this way – No, I am not. I can’t trust my mind that it is the first thing you noticed, what your sight caught on me! – she is jolly, lively, full of life and fun, spirited so highly, something for a long time, she didn’t feel and now, she is cuddling and caressing with her older brother. After the shock passes, comes the rightful Sansa into the light, and in the wake of that discovery, Robb allows to be both kissed on the cheeks, lavished and even slapped.

- You bastard! You bastard! You should speak to me, I would go on my own! You should…not like this! I love you, you son of the bastard too! – he took it all, feeling so reddened, bruised, for she was strong and reprieved from all that was holding him down, when the weeping stopped, he asked. – Forgive me, I am no King. I am the Fool!

Ah, he was each time so harsh on himself, still, he is so happy to see she lives and that she doesn’t give up. She looked lovelier than ever. His pretty Sis.

- You are no fool. You are my brother as all of you are – her tear stained face enriched her human beauty. – Did he… - He knows to be rough, however, he is incessantly tender and noble with me, as far as he can be, he tends to my needs, and punishes me when I overstep his, for a Monster, he is a fine man to a woman.
- You don’t mean… - No, it is just a game I play whenever he thinks he is the one who dominates me. I am used to it by now. Because there is no mark on me, no baby, and he can’t make me immortal yet…and after all this, I heard about Cersei too. She got the thicker bargain of the end, for her, there is no escaping. She accepted the snare with which she mulled to ensnare me with. I forgave her, I minded her, sent the dove at her window. I can do some Warg…sort of things, but without the Twin Ring of Light which I was endowed with by my older brother who is the blacksmith amongst all other talents he possesses, through which I pour all my will and tenderness that is left in my strength – in her voice is the dread and hope mingling – I withstand all of his advances he makes at me. Though, he is wearing me off.

She forgave, in between the lines that remained. Had to go, vanishing from his reach, leaving him in the hope she returned even though the prospects of the untruth had descended onto his hefty back that was shouldering what is not to be backed up, what he was burdening in his mind as it is the raven that reminds him every single time when there is the black plague with which he was tormented. He was happier than ever, and still, felt as the most disgusted bastard. Most of all, was the reveal that he will have to counter once again Prince Daemon Targaryen, of Dark and Blood. Thinking foolishly it is all finished, it was just the beginning. The greatest he is yet to fight not with the sword, his Lightbringer turns to Ice, he takes it, but with the mind.

- Who was it, Robb? – he spins around, struck, seeing his mother. Queen Catelyn. – With whom were you speaking? – he offers a smile. – Winter.

Winter? But it had passed, it is Spring and…her son comes over to kiss her on the cottony, smoothed forehead. She was such a gorgeous woman. No wonder that numerous men vied for her affections and indeed, what Mother saw in Father? He wasn’t…as handsome as others, nor he had some nose or a thing to boast about, it had to go down with the heart. Osha came by, looking for her adopted sister, only for her to rush into both, hugged and loving, until Robb doesn’t spread out his black cape, allowing for her to be bundled up together with both of them, snickering, enjoying the warmth and love that all of three were giving out. He kisses Osha too. She was their family he intends to keep safe, even if it means, someday, much sooner to meet.
*
…The Targaryen Prince…once again.

Chapter 137: In where Evil thrives

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Hope, even if there is nothing to be hopeful for, nothing to hope for, you hope like it is your last day on the Earth. Stop hiding in shadows, come out into the light, for us to see you, staunch outlines become visible. To Ramsay, the only father is Roose, no exception.

Now and forevermore. For that time, Dandelion was singing because he wanted with his exceptional talent to wake up the second Spring and the incoming adventures which weren’t so easily welcomed into the life of Witcher, and this was the case why he brought him along.

That man will survive before he even dies and what matters the most is that he can’t leave him where he was nor lead him further, this is why here is Yennefer, who would, after Dandelion’s accomplished purpose, take him back because that man with his voice and instrumental weapon is bringing the Dead up from their graves.

Ugh, it was so ugly to listen to him, but this is the sacrifice he had to suffer because this was his most loyal and only trustworthy, reliable friend he had. Oh, God, it begins all anew!

- And I siiing thiiis soooooong when the Witcherrrrr takes the Headdddo offfff JOOOn! Ah, I am so good at this, do not worry. I will immortalize you through my songs, that is why you have got for yourself your most favorite Bard ever! You will be lauded, glorified and honored! Just leave it to me! Geralt – he is hopping around the Witcher as if he was some ice cream he licks here and there until it doesn’t melt, and Witcher was thawing down because it was so obnoxiously hot!

He can stand both fire and cold, but the hotness, it was another thing while Yennefer’s dress was sticking to her sweating body in a way that each bodily line got defined to the utmost precision, the body she brought to the perfection with her sorcery and by the very gory, excruciating practice and now, she was liquefied along with the rest of her company, only Dandelion seemed totally resistant to everything around him and he was the normal human being!

Oh, f*ck this!

She sat down, she won’t move even for an inch!

- I am starving, famished that I can no longer walk! I want to eat, I want to drink! Geralt, catch me some wild boar (like there are some domesticated species) or I will lure it myself and it won’t be pleasant and you, human, do us a favor, and bring me some apple cider, I am thirsting here like all Seven Hells!

- But there is no store around here or nearby! From where to buy it?! There is no even proper trees where to find you some fruit! I would bring it to you and give, but come on now, Yen… your ship sailed away a long time ago. This is not Valinor! You should go back to your Elf Emperor and serve him! For I should have been Geralt’s slave (Geralt had to put up with a lot of sh*t, this was the peak of his living) for rescuing me if he called himself upon the most ancient Law of Surprise that is never denied or all sin befalls you, who literally is stealing me from my faith of Music or buying back from that same slavery, but here we are, in the middle of backwater place and you ask of me to go and find some shop?!

- Really, Yen – Geralt had to meddle – why are you doing this to him?! You know when he gets upset, then I am upset and I have a head to chop and then everyone around is in the state of utter confusion. – You tell me there is no some civilization out there?! I just wished for some apple juice?!

- Yen, THIS IS MORDOR, NOT YOUR happy camping! This is the place where nightmares are born, where Wraiths are walking in all directions and the dead are awaiting us as Death and all what you could think of is that you are hungry and thirsty?! You have our provisions, try them! – I think that all these stories are the understatement, what could possibly go wrong?! And I don’t like to eat cold food, I want cooked and I demand it now! I am the greatest Fire Sorceress alive and I request what is normal for everyone, Geralt! – I haven’t required your assistance if you would behave like this! – Well, and you thought that the World needed you! – So?! What is your point?! Exactly! – Hey, hey… you two, no problem. Geralt, go and find her something, I will cook it and I am going to search for some fruits to squeeze out the fresh sap, is that all right by you?

- Fine, and you Yen…when we confront that infamous Jon Snow, better be yourself and do your duty or else…you are dooming my reputation! – Your reputation! – I can’t fight off them all while you are ordering me around, I am Witcher, not your delivery boy! – Why do you even enjoy my presence then, call me when you are in a clinch! Why do you indulge me or cope up with me?! – Because I love you! – it blurted out, Dandelion drew back, going somewhere to seek those fresh fruits that will grow somewhere, even in the middle of wastes, he won’t go very far, just in case if he gets himself in trouble, leaving two lovebirds to figure it out amongst themselves. – You and your domineering! – any woman would be raptured, she was infuriated! – You have to take even the sliver of my dignity and pride, even honor away! Go and do it to all other women you possessed, every and last who sucked your co*ck of valor! – No, you are the one who is overbearing, dominating and only when it fits your needs, you claim what you want!

- You won’t be the man who tells me how far I will go or I shall accomplish! What pleases you! I need your permission to achieve?! Your fat chance! You Slayer of Monsters! Look at yourself and see for what you are! – The same as you, what people would tell if they would see your true form! I never loved you because of this stinky temperament of yours, for you are both vile and hilarious to the point that I don’t know what else to do, to keep you satisfied! Your displeasure comes deep down from your unsolved complexes. You may be God given, but you are nothing but a Targaryen Elf whose purple eyes would never even consider to look deeper! – I am not like my kin! I am a crossbred! Just like Jon Snow! And I don’t see the reason why would you grab the offer! – I am tired of the world as it is, and he is making it uglier! – You are ugly, you with your God complex where everything has its place and as soon as one figure is moved, you are out of shape! You who is more Old than Young! As a Man. Nothing!

And this woman loves his penis, she impales herself for God’s sake as if it is her only virtue. If she were ten thousand times a whor*, he would love her!

- You wish to slap me?! Woman?! Do it, but my love is not magic I wished upon you, I haven’t bound you to myself. IT IS f*ckING REAL! You bloody elven and Targaryen woman! I saved you! You are mine! – it is true what they say, Yennefer had the most irresistibly exquisite irises of all Targaryens and such a foul spirit, and they bore into him. – Jaskier (dandelion) is right about you. This is how you function! If only I wasn’t that naïve of you! – SUFFER ME, WOMAN! – a growl from Inferno – and move that lovely ass of yours, you are not the scavenger, do not scavenge when I provided you all you need, yet, you are doing it deliberately! – I hate you! – I will violate you here and now!

- I hate you, I hate you and I hate you! – she threw herself at him, for it was the rough love and had it just as he described, she nails herself on his pride, claiming him for this is what every Elf does, never the other way around, she seizes an opportunity and with this human chimera bastard, not Elf like Daemon, she is owning his ass hole! Taking what is hers back! – I hate that face of yours, I hate how you grunt at me or smile. I despise your black words, silence! – she doesn’t request, she commands, capturing his mouth around her tongue, plunging deeply, darkly, until she isn’t domineering him, for good and he loved it, when a woman puts him in his place, when she reminds him who is in control of his destiny and life!

What a woman, indeed. She was Fire Incarnate, whilst she is making love, the fire has started by itself.
She isn’t in need for a Dragon, she was the One, because her embodied and corporal build was that of the Dragon. Able to call upon the Hellfires or all Dragon flames from all Seven Hells if that is what is necessary to vanquish the enemy of her House. One incredible woman even at her bottom, now, she was atop the world as the feistiest of kinds.

- Do you mind it? – No, I love it, next to you I am completely fireproof, more, I want more – she forgot hunger and thirst, devouring him instead.

Meantime, Dandelion went farther then he intended, even lost his way. Great, just great, this just suited him so very much, even looked like him, ah, better to go back, there is nothing he can find here, but someone did him, from then, tailing him. Dandelion, in the thickest and most densely populated region of pink Ferns was feeling that humidity is reaching his every pore and he becomes unsettled. Vexing himself over and over again. Unnerving him so, where the f*ck he was?!

He didn’t tread that far?! Or, it was all delusions, deceptions. He was trudging much far than it was meant too. Mordor, he fell into a trap and who is after him?! The sweat was breaking through his skin even more. Human and he is hunted. Geralt, Yennefer?! Anybody?! Surprisingly, he turned, perceiving what was towering, covering his tiny being, because this is how he felt when he is seeing, drawing in the blackest Dragon Helm by all others that ever were sighted by the human life, the being that takes all in, unwarned. For a long time he lives in this world of lore, on that other side where humanity doesn’t dare, but never he was countered by the lurking and hunting Shadow that was ascending so above the tallest trees, such was the shadowing and preying upon his existing, as if it is touching a vault of Seven Heavens.

Ancalagon the Black and on top of him was mounting Jon Snow. It wasn’t easy to spot a human in the mid of shadow lands. For where shadows lie, there is breeding of sins. How did he survive?!
- Who are you, boy? I will protect you. Did you escape?! I am Jon Snow. King in the North! Don’t be afraid of my honeybee, a lamblike Dragon!

Oh, sh*t, all that blaze, even greater man… what is his, Dragon defends.

Chapter 138: We are allowed to fail, in there lies a gift

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Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, she used to fight all sorts of mutants against Snow, now she fights for the Snow. She and Grey Worm had to go up onto the trees, it wasn’t easy, but this was something familiar to both of them, Rowena’s goat, male Kiki, was up with them, it was hilarious to watch how they clamber with the goat in tow, yet, it had to be done. All three of them were quiet as the wind, still, they breathed hard through noses, waiting.

- Do you see them, Grey Worm, can you distinguish their contours?

- No, too dark, even for me. I don’t see anything, do you have some of your technology from your world? – All stopped to work when we entered Mordor. – Damn, so, we are blind. No Moon, no Stars, and when the Sun is up, it is sick, everything is morbid in this land, no life, just ghostlike specters around us which we do not see, engulfed in the haze, all is eerie green and gloomy.

- There are some nice places. – Marshes of the Fallen? – In between, I saw grittier than this, trust me. – It seems to me, that your world is anything but a war. – This is what I knew all my life, it doesn’t come out from you as soon as the peace is reached, what remains is the struggle to stay alive when the hardships became too easy to deal with. – I understand, this is how I felt. I am glad I live this life with Missandei, I hadn’t got that in other life. We have Rowena, our daughter, she is something the most special in this sh*t world.

- Everyone’s child is special in their eyes. – Even your children? – Even mine, but I am not that vain like you. – Shhh, we can’t see, but I hear. My six sense is telling me, they are passing, right beneath us. – What are they? – They are going to the direction, where we sense by trails. – Jon Snow. – This is something of One Ring, all unborn souls which are hosted into these bodies. – And we don’t know what we are fighting. – I am not sure we will be able to. Look, there are about… - You count their footsteps?

- No, I don’t. I count the number of legs who make those steps. It is, overall, one million, it is reaching even beyond – the first time, she feels fear. – I don’t know if I have enough arrows. I supplied myself well. I took sufficiently to bring down the armies of fifty thousand, the whole battalions, but this is…this is the nation we are fighting with. What in the name of Lord did he send at Jon Snow and his Pack? – Whatever that is, Kat ( she doesn’t like that nickname or pet name, not at all, but somehow, it grew on her and she accepted it, not cringing whenever is voiced)…we are doomed. If I had my Unsullied... – No, your memories of the Past Life need to end now.

- I don’t think it is the Past Life, it is all going around, it is cyclic, not linear. – Matters not. Can we go down, I fell stiff. – Not yet, it will take some time – the goat Kiki spoke, startling them.

- Soon, Kat and Dad – what the, Kat nearly screamed, him too, it was such a silent whisper, soft spoken with virtue. It was the voice of Rowena! She spoke through her Goat?!

He never would guess that she harbored such arts and crafts. What a girl she was! His daughter, see, he told her well! She was the most special child in the Universe. Proud fathers, Kat rolls her eyes, definitely when it comes to their daughters. She crouches like a frog, watching at the eyes which didn’t resemble of the animal, at least, it has got some good milk which upheld them so far more than great. Grey Worm was also a masterful companion whose mastery of both weapon and body abilities were surpassing her own, but she held herself high, this is what he recognized and in her, saw even his equal, even though she was far from it, but her insightful perception, the will to survive and when she starts shooting, she never missed the bull’s eye. This is what Grey loves very much about her. People would never go hungry or unprotected beside her. She is someone to admire above all.

- Sweety! Why didn’t you tell us!? – Why should I? You wanted our goat, you asked for it, there was no claim for me to assert. I would think of something anyhow. I am not leaving you alone – both feel grateful. – I love milk. When there is nothing around, there is no better than from a goat. This is what I was always teaching my sister. Drink lots of milk, you will grow strong and healthy, specifically with goat’s milk, but she is gone, never succeeded to grow up, but I hoped, I will…find her here.

- I am sorry…Kat – even Grey felt it, that agony she lived in to this day. Will this quest redeem her so that she can continue to live with her family, to go back? Or, is this…not her temporary stay, but the permanent address? – You know, Grey learned to talk a lot – making both sweetly laugh in whisperings, Rowena through a goat and Kat by herself, looking up, watching him, explaining. – It is said, you learned to talk fluently, you have become a smooth talker, eloquent.

- Ah, anyway, you would have a place among my Unsullied. I never liked those men around…her, but I like you, I would take you under my wing, which means, if it would make you better, you are my family, our member too and there is always place, you can be an aunt to my daughter. I mean, you already are. You lost one family, but you have gained the other – breaking her where she didn’t believe to be plausible, never showing, loosening her defenses rarely, but that one tear, the traitor did betray her, laughing it off. It hurt her, she was suffering.
Yet, never before, Grey Worm took a liking of someone as he did her, because she was an admirable woman, like anything he ever met before or come to know, except a few cases, in some other life and realms.

Everything else is left unsaid. Prior to anything, he had to admit to himself, that he never felt for someone as deep, without any intimacy or affectionate feelings as he did foster for her. She was the sister he never had. He had innumerable brothers, a lover, a Queen, but never a friend and sister, he found all that in one woman. He loved her differently, yet, it was love, as strong as the Mountain, and as fiery as this land. He would protect her, doubtlessly!

- It must be my allergies, heat and sultriness. – You would adapt. You would learn, you are a survivor. Like me. You are the Unsullied. Everdeen.

Like he was saying, wherever you are, there are wars, plenty of them, one world is not better than other, but there are beauty and mercy, there is justice.

- I take your friendship, but I refuse your honor you are giving me. There is nothing honorable…how I – she upends herself warily – survived. In your suffering, there is dignity, in mine, there was no even pride.

- Because when a man has no honor, how can anybody judge you! You are a warrior, without fail. This is what I see. This is what I know. All my life, I live by the sword, I will die by one, I will defend, but this is the last time you doubted yourself. I have seen what you can do. You are not as strong as I am. You are much stronger! Just like my child. It is a power that is for me unattainable, but you have it. I simply adore you for it. Will someone ever condemn you when you take a life for your survival, no, that other person would be thankful you did get to live to save someone else’s life – he got near, cornering her and facing the truth. It wasn’t her fault.

- Why then, it never goes away, it never stops, it doesn’t get better. Why am I plagued, the reason why I did fall is my sister and all was in vain – she looks away, mournfully she turns from him, again, this time he doesn’t allow, he grabbed her and turned to him. – I know, Grey Worm knows. I understand. There was one little brother of mine. I saved him from anything and anyone, I kept him safe, one day, one scorpion stung him. I was too late. I killed the lone bastard, but the child has passed away. Despite all my efforts, when it is time, it is time and not God, not you, not anybody could do anything, because the Higher Force had some other plans, and you are here for that reason. You have a chance to make things right.

- Grey…I am afraid. I am always so scared. All this f*cking time, will I be able to…
- And Unsullied is not? Whoever tells you, it is a lie. Yes, we do not fear, but not to lose life, we fear what you fear. THAT WE WILL FAIL. You are afraid of failure, and if I learned any of worlds, I relegate to you now, I pass it on, FAIL. Fail after fail, that is what makes you strong, when you do not give up. Victory? Victory is for the weak and cowards, for the cutthroats who waste their triumphs away, for nothing will make you invincible as the failure that is the greatest teacher you could ever have or hope for the blessing in disguise, you don’t see it, because you shouldn’t, all is blurry at first, then as a story, it clears the first outlined frames and you get it where it all leads for you have attained the freedom to do things your ways, that is independence – she uttered back. – Smoothly.

He chuckled, it is the rare sight, but he did. There are few women who had him feel what he feels today, what he grew to be. He won’t list any of these emotions, neither he will place one above the other, they are all the even match. He had what to laugh for, that was the small joy that makes up the life and she followed his mannerism. Wiping the traitorous tears. She doesn’t cry. She is not weak. But this man, never made her look weak. He was strong. Not like the man she is in love, but the comrade she longed to have, a brother and a friend. As little might be thought, the unlikely match, proved to be unmatched.

Who would ever assume that these two, so different and yet so similar, would find the hope in one another, without any other emotion save unexpected fellowship. Rowena through Kiki forewarned them, the dark beings went away, they may carry on, too much emotionally unstable after witnessing bonding of two people she grew to love the most. Climbing down with the skill and deftness, for the swiftness was in both of their blood, Katniss and Grey Worm were heading toward their doom, there where Jon is doomed to fail against the Witcher. For not all is as it seems, this is why she will be there, regardless what is in her way, those of the Darkling shadows or else, she doesn’t need to know, she knows oneself. Not afraid to,

…fail.

Chapter 139: In all I do, I do for you

Chapter Text

Rhaenyra was training on Mimicry, King’s horse, because Jon had no problem to share and Mimicry who changed colors of all sorts, was the perfection for her who still had to learn a lot, and each color indicated if she is wrong, right or something riles Mimicry who showed that he is more than just two colors and it was fun to her. She even took care of it, loving him and grooming better than Jon and was so grateful while Jaime was there to teach and guide her, putting his mind off the loss together with his Brienne. Both needed this, because their souls could only be consoled by a child and so, all what they had of emotions, it was poured down affectionately on Little Lady who did her best for her parents to get better. Even calling them by those titles which made Brienne more than emotional, for she is no longer aunt, she was the family as they were hers. In her war dress, a present from Jon’s sister, only contributed more to the atmosphere, while everyone around is enjoying how one little girl is relishing her first ride. And Jaime is the Teacher.

- Silver Lioness of Stars – it was funny what kind of endearments she was getting, enjoying it fully, wishing to help her family although she suffered and felt it too - never drop your guard, you lead him, not him you. – I don’t want to hurt him! Dad! – You can’t hurt him, you are making him confused and distracted, just pull him over, there, just like this. – And ease yourself, you can’t be all stiff, feel the horse as he feels you – Brienne adds and she got the answer back.

- All right, mom, don’t act so pushy – Jaime turns to see how their beloved Brienne bleeds every time from the open gaping wound, moved beyond. Rhaenyra knew exactly what she needs and she was giving it to her. It was real. Not fighting it but kissing Syrax instead.

- You are to kiss me too! – all four laughed along with others whiles Syrax was reddening, indirectly, never straightforward, Brienne shows her affection, giving all of fondly attention and undivided affection upon her, showering alike a downpour. Jaime’s heart was recovering, there will be children, there will. He has to stay alive, he has every reason to live it through and for what to continue to live, instantly, the peacefulness was disturbed. The King was back on Honeybee, upon landing, the Pack with Elves and Wolves and the Bolton, had sighted a new person which Jon found in here?!

The accursed land where shadows are nesting? Whilst Dandelion was in the state of severe panic, they can’t read him, Yennefer made sure of it, however, if he is exposed and uncloaked, oh my, there will be trouble, he gulps down, only wanting to get Yen some fruits, so that he could make the refreshing cider.

At the end of the day, when the evening fell, they gathered around fire and this is when investigation began, until then, they treated him as…Outsider or some kind of Outlander to their inner circle. Elves are doubting him like everyone else, for these were altered states of mentality, everyone is affected, even if Dragons who transform or minimize themselves, were as large as hills, due to reaching the full growth, they still grow even after the aim, howsoever, their magic was dwindled rigorously along with the elven crafts and arts, it goes the same for Wolves of all types, still Dragons got scales hardened during their immortalization out of universes. Because when they stretch out, both are as bewitching as they are colossal, enfolding the world with their bat wings and when they land, the quakes of tremors are felt, and the fire was no fire of this world. Two gargantuan and humongous bio – weapons and this is why people acted around him the way they did. Because of Dragons, they are now small, but they knew, something isn’t right in him.

Giving him food and water was something that was hospitable and necessary to sustain him if he happens to be their captive of some sort. Distrust is ill.

- So – Lord Bolton started, even Jon in his new armor without the Dragon Helm, for now, is hence curious, and why would he uncover his traits to the stranger, it isn’t his face, but the name that follows him around, he had made quite the image for himself, pretty hard to match and so, it was excessive to wear something all the time if it wasn’t necessary. Why then bother? He was a pragmatic man, not a bragging preacher, for no matter how much it provided the practical protection, underneath, it was heavy and strapping, even when a black armor was something that was his creed from the moment he put it on, it looked marvelously good on him, that every Targaryen Elf could envy him, but of course, his people would never suck it up to him, so he struts it alone, what a showman, nevertheless, here comes nothing – are you from here? Are you a slave, a runway, of course, and what is your story, tell us – Dandelion choked on his food for a bit, until he isn’t slapped across his frail back by Jaime Lannister that he didn’t have a need to eat any longer, the food just doesn’t digest in his stomach from nervousness, he is being interrogated and they haven’t even done anything to him, he is trembling like a leaf.

Trying not to show it, but the piercing eyes of Jon Snow, that color of deep lavender was the most terrifying. As a matter of fact, he was terrified in King’s presence. How are they enduring it?! Are they used to it?! That man who is opposite him is something the most horrifying he ever saw or someone could say the same for Geralt, but Geralt was his friend and this man was the Prey. Why does he have a feel that The Prey is in fact the Hunter here?! They were wrong, so wrong. Could Geralt take on himself this massive power that was giving off in the raw pulsating and powering madness that was in that sculpted body simmering.
It was simply oozing from him. Even the way he was eating, it was appalling to him. Such a lifeforce, he could be even bursting from Life, that is Jon Snow, and still, he would move on as though that is the most normal thing to do. – You are not eating and not answering to our Lord Bolton, either, I perceive it as greatly rude, and…it is a good thing you are frightened by myself and the way I speak or sound, that stands very well for the opponents, but you are not my enemy and you are not in chains. So? Why don’t you speak? I see that your tongue is just fine or the mouth, not to mention we don’t know even your name. I can’t read you. I can’t hear you, it disturbs me and I don’t prefer to be dejected by it – so that another mouthful was chewed by those teeth. God, is he doing it on purpose? Playing a game with him? Jon is not removing his eyes off of him!

He acted as a Human, but Dandelion lived for far too long among creatures of Lore, and he knows when he is presented by someone who speaks as Elf.

- It is unusual to see it. I heard stories about you! – What about!? My skill with the sword or how powerful I may be? What do you know?! Boy?!

Precisely, this is it! Whoever raised this Elf, who once was a kid, he had utterly domesticated him as a human being, yet, he can’t pass as human, let him be more human than humans, for he was Elf. Can’t be fooled, with no ears which are symbols of the elven kind, even being born without it, as a human child, he maybe lived as one of them, but he was as it turns out, the rightful Elf in the real life of this side of the world, and people, bonded with Snow.

- Your people love you. You grew up before their eyes, you live with them, but you are a Dragon, Your Grace – Jon snickers, causing for others to react the same, even if there were Wolves of both breeds and Wood Elves present. – You are mistaken. I am Wolf too. – That as well, but you present yourself too humanly, this is how you are fooling everyone. You are Elf of Targaryen House. The blood in you is...something more, still not different and…

- Your name I want, for these people know it all. They are mine, I am theirs. Keep it in your mind also. My Father is Ned Stark and my Lady Mother is Catelyn Stark of Fish House, my birth Sire is a Feanorian, Celegorm the Fair, Great Hunter of Woods, well, I got that virile beauty from him and my mother is Ned’s birth sister, Lyanna Stark, her wolf side lives in me and let me tell you, what I am telling you now, it doesn’t matter even for a breath when I go to poop, because we all must eat and sh*t ourselves or wipe our backsides. In here, I am just another fodder for Mordor’s belly. And if you think that I bother myself who or what you are, from which family or house you came, I care less than you wish to know. I hanged men for far more even when they are highborn, because to Life, you are precious equally.
- I don’t have anything to lose. – That is where the Devil is gaming the winning dance. You don’t know what you may lose until it is taken away, and so, say to me your name – Jaskier presses his lips. – I am Dandelion. – You have another name, you are called by another. – How do you know? – Your synthetic shields are unnatural, whoever sealed it on you, knew you will be leaking, so by reinforcing it, it reduced the practical effect upon you.

Wow. He was becoming far too unhealthy for the rest of the world, growing stronger, his power had no bounds if he continues to breathe, and in numbers he expands drastically. In this way, he could catch a glimpse or two, but never the full picture, this is where lied the insecurity of Jon Snow. Too much powerful can’t ever be good for him, until Bolton didn’t clear his throat, and with the regular voice, and even eerier calm, he looked over, at Jon’s direction, asking first for his approval. He is a man who doesn’t require anyone’s permission, but when it comes to his ways, he feels it is a necessity to be approved just for the sake of everybody else. Jon to surprise of all, nodded and Bolton after some time, clarifies to Dandelion with ease.

- The naked man has few secrets, but the flayed has none – getting up, sharpening his knife, it occurs to Dandelion, singing a song. – I am Jaskier!
*
Well, it works every time, Jon grins dimly. God Bless Boltons. The Wolves of the North, the unprecedented and to whom you can’t find no equal at all.
*
Hoping to find his son likewise, someplace far in the land where shadows lie, because a son feels he wants to return to his father too.
*
It was predicted in the real space that one day, when it is our darkest hour, the Promised and Chosen will come to the realm of mortals to defend, till the time is ripe for keeping a promise.

Chapter 140: The Devil’s writing

Chapter Text

I am but one tiny flame in the sea of hopelessness, but I hope even beyond anything, I hope outside of nobility. I love when there is nothing to love, I love even when it is impossible to handle the hatred. I will love even then, when all the worlds fall together with the life, not hatred, but love is what forged us. In the darkness, our light was glowing stronger than millennia of contempt. To love even when it is unfeasible, because there is no love in Us.

- Human boy, having a good live is entwined by Runes of God, for sons belong to a house, daughter to lives who are placed above everything else or any pride. Jaskier, you went through all Seven Hells if it weren’t for that Witcher, White Wolf of yours, the same as I am – Jon was putting it out plainly to the man who gulped barely. What has given him away?! He is exposed, feeling naked.

- I am his companion, a long-living human, and lifelong brother in spite how it would look or sound like - the more he talk, the more it all reminded him of Sam and Him, dammit it, he hated his deep emotions, but that was what it meant to be…human and Dragon - I have been made immortal, with the potion of Elves which were by the time Turgon made it, already in the light of mass distribution even though it began slowly. Anyway, I am his all. The only friend.

- Why would he bring… - Sam comes to his mind, really, why would you bring with yourself…a liability? Is it to fulfill your heart or that was something much more than meets the eye, as normally it is, or this was supposed to be a trap, implanting him among them, and he brought the snake inside or it was just the lapse of circ*mstances?! – You know, I sing pretty well. Do you want me to sing?! Geralt loves my singing, I believe this is why he fell in love with me, yes, it sinks in, enlightens you, doesn’t it…– the laughter was of a Jester, didn’t know what to make of it, no one did – especially if there is some instrument of mine, but nevertheless, I can sing just as fine as without it. What do you think?!

- You are aware that you are captured, right? – Roose reminded him. – And you would like, the first thing in our captivity, to sing?! For what?! To celebrate it or somehow mark the day?! – Jaime was his usual self, but Brienne got worried so, remaining spookily quiet, something doesn’t feel right, even if he doesn’t start to sing or play the instrument, he wasn’t nor he seemed that way, as someone who is the earthborn and regular person. She doesn’t underestimate their men, specially not Jon, but they should have been trudging more carefully, and that is like you are saying to the zombies. – Sing then – Jon commands – then you shall be promptly bound and gagged. – It isn’t like you are not anticipating the strike of my talent.

- Perhaps, Jon – Brienne advises – we should just let him finish his meal and secure him at once. – He is finished as far as I can see and let him enjoy his last moment of freedom. Don’t worry, Brienne, everything is under control.

- Our Dame is wise, you should listen to her – Tauriel supported Brienne who cordially, so heartily glances back at her utterly, it is was miraculous just how much these Elves grew in their hearts, that even words or the meaning behind them, the strength of feels was more real than reality, bonding and becoming fond of both, because Lord Hand backs his elven sister also. – You should listen to women, from time to time, it isn’t the act of weakness, but of the wiser ruler. This is why actions speak louder than words.

- I do, all the time, I take into consideration every thought, but why would I deny something from someone? Then, I would be the same as everyone else?! Merely because I am with the entitlement, it doesn’t make me the same as the prerogative where we are taking rights from the others, but we demand for ourselves – he missed the point, there was no cure, Jon is still Jon, no matter how much you try, he remains…IDIOT. Ygritte was ready to intervene with Lady, so let him sing his songs, while Dragons and even Rhaenyra were bracing for the impact that never came and Dandelion starts singing, at first, very nice and smoothly, it was pleasing, and then he hit that note. Making Jon pass out, being swooned totally, the f*ck?! Falling into a deep sleep, he found out that he can’t move even a finger! It was happening to all of them, except for one guy who punched Jaskier with such ferocity that nearly he knocked out all of his teeth, silencing him extensively. It was, of course, Jaime.

- This will shut you up! – how on Earth this man could be immune to him?! Jaskier was shocked, holding his jaw, standing up before stubbornly irked Jaime Lannister. – You are ours now! Give up yourself! – Jaskier punched back, Jaime had no time, not even to use his cutting edge, it was coming from angles it wasn’t supposed to, and he feels weak at his knees, he should have been fainted, he wasn’t. How is possible that he still stands?! It was unbelievable to Jaskier, it must be that half of Dragonheart, and the other half of human that makes a fair combination of immunity and resilience. For he was resistant to his Magic. Damn all!

Seeing that Jaime returns his every strike, he starts running away. During his hurried run, Jaime picked up his iron sword of Valyrian tinges and commences racing against the time, after Dandelion. If he doesn’t capture him, all is lost. He will find his way back to the Witcher who will be warned. Damn, no you won’t! Although he still felt so weak! Now they knew why he brought him along, that man was the walking menace! The instinct for the survival was always the tricky thing out of all. Why?!
Because it forces us to survive and evolve outside of our imagination which grows to be a mere figment of something that is now as natural as breathing, that is why the group of families had developed all breeds of abilities, but to Jaime Lannister, the sprinting wasn’t one of those, and Dandelion possessed the pace of the incredible sprinter. He runs at the unimagined velocity, and all the horses are in the dreamland too! f*ck this, he is going to lose him. He has to be caught and he won’t be any lion if he doesn’t take down his prey. He was getting so tired and wearied, until the wonder didn’t happen, he just felt himself how he is being brought up by the speed of light with no one but Ygritte who stooped her huge head and slid him down on her queen-sized back. He exclaims happily! Go, Go Wolves! So, unlike Dragons, they were resilient and resistant too?! Look at these Wolves! Lady was right behind, her paws were muddy, oh, what would Sansa think if she sees her like this?! After the capture, she has to clean herself meticulously. She can’t even watch herself, she was so filthy. Why in the world, a woman, can’t stay dry and beautiful?

- Faster, Ygritte, faster! – Hold on, if you want…faster. – I can maaanagge! – he didn’t have time to waste, gripped onto her, the hold was tight, but she was magnificent, whiles Lady never falls behind, it was unimaginable to experience it, he is in awe and marvel. The true wonder, so, this is what Jon was feeling every time he rides one of these magnificence. – Right, right! – No, left, left! Jaime, he is cheating on us! Don’t watch with your eyes, make the most of your heart. This is the Magic of East he has been using, he is Easterner and of Far Lands! – Jaime attempted, not focusing what is to the front of his features, eventually, he did see it. It was all illusion, Dandelion didn’t run faster, Wolves were slowed down on purpose, dammit it! Knowingly he is exploiting Mordor’s sins against them!

- Ygritte, I sense it, our undestined Queen. – I am the Queen of my breed, in my own privilege, just not of the North, the world is bigger than the North, you know? – The more I am travelling, I can see for what it is and Lady, why do you lag behind?! – She never even began, even so, she is obsessed by her looks. – What?! – I told you, it is what he uses to his advantage, countering our disadvantages. – What can I do?! – You can’t toss sword or pike at him! We should be smarter, we have to trick him. – How is that manageable?

- Lady! May you howl a tad? – you didn’t have to tell her twice and she released such the creepy sound that it strikes the paranoid panic in already lost man due to his fears of being seized! Dandelion wasn’t thinking straightly and he fell into the living mud, that was swallowing him whole, the more he was thrashing in its muck and grime, no, no…Geralt! He won’t die like this! Jaime arrived in due time, exploiting a situation, there was no rope, but he thought up of something.

- Ygritte, please, thanks to Lady, he is in our hands, but we are going to lose him if you don’t grab me by the scruff of my tunic! Quick and just hold fierce! – she did as he told her, after which he leans forward, extending his hands. – Take them! Make a jump and clasp them! – Just don’t gag me, you promise?! – he is going to be dangerously ravened, hardly could speak.

- Sure, just clutch onto my hands! – afterwards, the severe pulling and forcing him out, for it was the anguishing birth, he was taken out, lying by Lannister, in filthiness and muddiness. Catching his breath, windless. – I will hold onto my word. No gag and I won’t sing. Don’t disable in any way my mouth, or you incapacitate myself for life – Jaime would gladly shove something into his hole, and he did think of breaking the oath, but then again, curiosity was tangible.

- You will stay crippled?! – No, I fall into depression and die. – Ouch…that bad?! – That bad, not even the gag over the mouth won’t do. – I see…oh well. Let me put it then straight to you. You wake all of my people and our companions, comrades overall, and if you sing a note, Ygritte or Lady, you see those Ladies above us, how they are threatening you with their lovely beings, yes, those Ladies, bite your head off – he takes a gulp. – Deal. – And you are to be tied up, nevertheless.

Just in the way One Ring and Glorfindel were correlating to one another, do not respond to each other, so he could cloak himself and Ramsay with ease, Blackie was able himself while Celegorm did the same for him and his treasured Lyanna. Huan had it done all by himself. If not for the Pact, no balance with God discreetly and indirectly through his Messengers who struck a covenant between him and Blade of God that concluded in the living legend of Glorfindel would be met. Something similar come to pass between Geralt and Mother Nature. He was diligently looking for his Jaskier who was known by diverse names deliberately, for obvious reasons. Feeling guilty because Yen and him were trying so hard to find him and they will come!

For when it does occur...

…Hell will be there to pay.

Chapter 141: Praised be Lord

Chapter Text

The rider on the horse, the dream that is repeating again and again, until it doesn’t become reality. High on the upped hill, like it was laughing from above where God was, behind him were rising the towered wings of the Dragon until the Shadow doesn’t became the fulfilled wish. The Dragon as large as the three mountains, Hallelujah, praised be God, the ranges of the vast mountains wouldn’t encompass the magnificence of the blackness that was the shining light in the seas of unborn and lost souls. That was one and only him who is laying out his batlike wings for everyone to admire while he engulfs in its roaring brilliance, overshadowing, even outshining all what was known, all to the way of the unknown and undiscovered, waiting to be explored, not to stay unexplored.

The Dragon lands next to him, and then, watches up, springing into the flight, and like it wants to grab with its cosmically mountainous claws the prey, for shadows which covered, could both devour and swallow while he was running, but none happened, when he looked better, up above, he saw the deep lavender eyes that are never to be hidden from the world. It was him. The irises of Jon Snow who looked up to the spaceborn sky. This is how he woke up, in the sweat and sweltering heat. He has been cleansed by Jaime after he fainted. It was the surrealism when the dream reminds him more of reality than of the real life, the real world he lived in. Jaime recognizes that look, it was the same he had from time to time whenever he wakes up or Brienne, or any of group.

Taking the torn cloth, cleansing Dandelion further, giving him some of his extra clothes to wear while the muddy ones were left in the mud to consume or were rather too used up to even look like the proper garbs because the living mud ate it as well. Grateful, Dandelion kept his word and he behaved, even while being bound. It was efficiently tightened, with strong knots, but not too harsh to cut into his flesh. Jaime had in mind that this was a human just as he was, who suffered under the elven kind but also was shown grace and mercy. To be favored is not easy, however, it is better than to be vied over like the prize or trophy. No reward is heavier than when you are loved. It has begun.

- I dreamed of him…is he…Promised?

- We don’t know…- Jaime offers a gentle smile – if he is sent to us to be cast in the image of the Savior or our Destroyer, but yes, that was him – solemn as the lion, and as the proud man he was.

- You are not like…I mean…you act around him so normally.

- He is Jon…remember, there is yet for him to baptize you.
- What?

- He does to everyone, in his own way, will it be by diving you into water or by touch, all what I know is that you had seen for yourself that he is the mortal human being with the elven heart. He can be beaten, he can be afflicted and hurt. Just because he looks you with the eyes of the Anointed, it doesn’t mean that he is different from you. He chose it over everyone else and placed the unworthy, the humans, above all else.

- It must be something good about us when he did it.

- Hm, I don’t know. The more I learn about human beings, the more I am not confident about us. Do we deserve salvation? From the man like him? We didn’t deserve him. We didn’t deserve…Jon Snow – even if it is the deadlock between the two of them, the captive and Warden, it was a beautiful, to be locked in the predicament such as this. Offering you more meaning than when all is right in between, the golden middle that had no beauty in itself because it was hollow and alone, but all those who wander and to whom they wonder are not lost, it was the emotion that was compromising beauty, this is why it becomes both the ugly painting and the graced favor when it suits us, that was all the truth of all truths out there and within.

- Did God forsake us then? For someone to wear such a cross, for all of us, it is unfair. Why would Allfather do that if he knew that even such a person may fail and it will suffer? – Dandelion asked.

- Because he is the one who can suffer it through. For endurance of all sins, you don’t need a strong body, you have to own the Will. The people don’t die from the illness, they die from the lack of the Will, when they lose Elan for living. When they wake up and there is nothing what compels them to live. This is what happens to all those who had no worry in their lives. Often, those are Shepherd’s wandering lambs who had everything, but never were fully satisfied, that is why never pray for the easy life, pray for the Will to go through with the hard one. If he gave us the easy way, how we would grow and better ourselves? There would be no Art, and no deepness in our hearts – Jaime spoke from experience, it wasn’t something what he read, this is what he learned. This was a man who was so changed from his travels that he wouldn’t trade it with no one.

Never anyone to regret for coming with Jon Snow on this Eternal Crusade, no matter the outcome.

If his father would see him now, he would know that this is the heir to his house he didn’t pray for, but whom he deserved to have.
- Then, to answer your question with the question. Why would he send his only…son or one of his grandchildren to us? To live and die among us? I believe he is with us in everything, even, through the utmost suffering, then the most our Allfather stays beside and he listens to our prayers which are embodied in the intelligent design that was personified in Jon Snow’s personality. Such was Ned Stark, such is the Son and Holy Spirit that incorporates the Avatar of the venerated marvels – he looks Dandelion in the eyes while he speaks.

- Those are people who don’t trade their honor for the few more days of life. It is why those men are hated the most. We do not have these guts. But, although I did worship Ned Stark, he knew I was envious, nonetheless, I obtained his respect. He was my teacher, I was taught by him as well as I learned from my own father, pleased that Ned not only chose me amidst all others he could teach, my father even supported it, because I trained under the best. Mutually with the woman I can, on this day, call my wife. At this hour, I appreciate I listened a man who spoke wisdom, who was better than me in any way. I envied him so. From where all that gladness in him that dwelt, where did it come from? He hoped for the better tomorrow, not for himself. His life wasn’t his most precious treasure. No, it was us. And even after he is gone, what power may urge you to call upon his name each time whenever you are at the clandestine crossroads, the man about whom we speak more when he is not amongst living anymore, more than when he was alive. Why are some men loved even more after death? I would have loved that I could harm him, so that it hurts, I only hurt myself instead, for in him I saw what I can’t ever live up to. But, today, tonight, I say to this land of Mordor – he talks to Shadows.

- You won’t break me. You will not tame me. Let these Wolves and this man be my beholders. I will grow better than I used to be.

No matter how much these biting winds will blow, the Lion doesn’t bend to its knees. Somewhere, like it could be listened to, the roars of the lions, who were saying hear us out. We are Lions. We do not grow strong by our good lives, but we hold on our pride, we hold it high, and we take those strikes, as if they were our trials. No Castamere, this is how we repented to what we have done with Starks.

Through it, we immortalized not to strike fear, but hope, that such atrocities never are committed in the name of God by any man, evermore. They were small, couldn’t do anything, neither they knew what their Father did afterwards, they didn’t understand, he now knows. His son was taken from him, because of sins of Lannister House. There will be children, but to Jaime, it was obvious. He was aware that there will be no more SONS to the House Lannister. There will be children, daughters, but never a son shall be born to their household.
Which meant only one thing, he was the Last Lannister who wore the name Lannister, the Last Son of Lions, and the only way for which he can atone is to do something what nobody could be imagining. He prayed to God. Giving the oath without hate, but by the ferocity, the silent one, such, that was quaking billows below. All was numbed, whiles the prayer was uttered in silence. Send me such a travail, the one that NO MAN can’t endure. Give me to fight the Odds, like no Elf ever did. Give me that Anathema and I swear to YOU. I know you listen, I will make up to every tear and injustice. To every enormity. In return, give us sons, so that daughters of Lannisters may exist once more, oh Eru.

- May you open your mouth for me, now when you are cleansed, cared for and clothed well. – You promised? – I intend to keep it, but you must open your mouth for me, I have to see your tongue – Dandelion was a good prisoner, fine one, who didn’t make it hard for himself, furthering the gap. As he was ordered, he opened. Jaime scrutinized the insides, they looked more than great, it was excellent. This is what he thought. Every human who resists, in the elven captivity, either tongue or teeth or both, start blackening.

This is what happens when the immortalization failed and it is a matter of time when it will occur, the death, something Elves can’t prevent regardless how much they tried. It is the reason why they search even for a speck of damnation in those human mouths, thinking if they notice it prior to happening, that they can hinder it. Sometimes, it goes unnoticed, it is already too late. Human got 100 years or more to live, not anymore. To them, little. From us, you won’t take the least they nurtured as escape. To us, it was even too much to bear. An only course where Elves couldn’t walk or look into it, can’t follow up.

Jaskier could close his mouth, notifying Jaime that his people and all of companions and comrades are waking up. He was rejoiced and glad, but what he did see was the fact that the tongue was bitten, not by any lover, he nearly had done it himself. Even if Jaime understands, from this point of view he exchanged with life, he also says to all those who do it, that it is the ultimate cowardice. The weakness. Live the life with dignity, even so, if it has meant in thralldom. As though it will be helpful what they do to selves. Had it. Lived it all, reliving even now and all what he can say to Dandelion is live, you never know what is stored for you, perhaps, may surprise self, as little might be thought, smile, friendship grows between the unexpected foes.
*
You might ask yourself, what about Joffrey? He was a boy, alas, the raven came through Magic of Far East, made it, for on the night of Fake Bloodmoon, when he had spoken the last time with father, he passed away. Leaving the house in disarray. Cersei found out jointly with others too, went delirious from the pain, she wasn’t there, ran away from such a life when she was demanded the most, she left her only daughter to wait for her father.
Can she do anything? To what she may devote herself. She was the first human High Queen of High Noldor Elves, not the Empress, nobody can surpass Eowyn, and yet, she was no one. Nothing, only what she did is what she stopped on the day her mother died. She prayed. Prayed day and night, for all. For someone did hear all what you vowed, answering back. Knock, knock, God is busy, how may I be of service to you!? I am always open. Dear Ones.
***
Evil laughter woke you from your deep dreams…where wishes laid their eggs.
*
Your daughters shall be your sons and sins! Even for those who never hated, without hatred, who never harbored the fiendish thought. For the No One.
Rewarding and fulfilling hallelujah…one by one, Lion will fall. I come for your life, next. Remember North, for the Power of Ring couldn’t be unmade.
Do we stop being parents when children are lost? Parents are parents to all their children, despite a number. You are Parent to all who are raised by you.
*
Magic of East in Mordor, born to me, die for and with us. Hallelujah, praise the Lord. Night was my watch.

Chapter 142: I am Life

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When Wolves brought them back, captured Dandelion was hauled by rope. His captor was bringing him before Jon Snow and the Pack who were widely awake, very annoyed and ready to pounce at him, but they refrained. Jon was in a bad mood and he didn’t like that side of himself, but he was just so much angry and why the f*ck that man wasn’t gagged? Oh, now you are getting smarter, Jon Snow, well, at this point of story, it is too late for that, Jaime informed him that Dandelion gave his word and since then, he was nothing but a saint, and yes, it could be also a trick to gain their trust, but Jaime knew people and Jon knew them too, or at least, he was certain of humans, confident, convinced, assured, that he doesn’t think clearly, at all!

- Gag him – he growled. – Nope, and neither will you. He is an honorable man. – Many were and… - Oh, f*ck off, Jon, you blew it, now suck it! Or do your thing! – it was the understatement to experience such an exchange and Jaime’s wife even added injury to the insult.

- I support my husband. You should have listened to us, Jon – this galled Jon to no end, but he controlled his temper. Dandelion was in awe. Wow, he can speak like this to him, even her, all of them, without repercussions? Seeing that Jon Snow is putting his tail between his loins, literally, because Ygritte, proudly just passed by him and snorted at him, he desired to bite her! Just a moment ago, she was his cuddling pup and the next thing, when he makes a mistake, she is the God given Queen! Ugh, and Lady, what the f*ck is she doing?! She was tiptoeing, had to clean herself, she was a mess, this is what she is thinking, while Jon was overall immersed in the deep thought that his fellowship is abnormal group that consists of idiots like him! Maybe that is why they last for so long together. Anyhow, he barked again. – Tie him to a tree, so that he can both stand and sit!

- You plan to put on him some chores as punishment?! – Why would I do that?! – Well, in this way he can sweep your ass, tied to a tree, only implies that you are in Dragon mode. – I AM NOT IN ANY DRAGON MODE!? WAS I EVER?! I AM WOLF! – oh my, that was that tantrum, no, it wasn’t outburst, it was the throwing fits of the petulant child whose plan didn’t go the way he wished for. – Suit yourself, like private tragedies are not enough! – I AM SO f*ckING SORRY! I feel like sh*t! I can’t return any of your children back, it passed some time since we found out it in Mordor, after…tragedy and after the next one, when we found out before…Dandelion… and now this with him, I am just lost. I am a sh*thead because you weren’t at home. I… - You idiot…you don’t get nothing. I chose it, we all did, and that wasn’t the point. My point was…

- ENOUGH, SILENCE, Jaime! I am not hearing it from you! – both men were on the verge to slaughter each other, or better to say, to be at each other’s throats, which…they did. Jaime let go of Dandelion, leaping on Jon, punching him, Jon didn’t stay in debt to him and he punched back, exchanging threats and all what was deep buried inside them whiles Jaime bestrides Jon, they couldn’t take it, to act like all is good, it is not good, not at all, and if Jon doesn’t stop to behave like he owns a situation, all of them are doomed, neither they can move on, nor they have known how to deal with the emotional bursts which were threatening that in a fit of rage do more damage, than any other distress.

- I don’t want to hurt you! – I have my golden armor, you have your black! Put on your Helm, I will mine too! Of the f*cking, cursed Lion! Just hit me, Jon! Hit me! – Don’t punish yourself, Jaime, Jaime…

- I LOST THEM BOTH, I LOST BOTH CHILDREN, they are taken, away, for you, not just because they are my sons…if I lose even one of my daughters, I will kill them all! I will kill you! I will make them all burn! Galaxy to go to all Seven Hells, I don’t know how I am going to do it, but I am SIR JAIME f*ckING LANNISTER AND I... AND I… - Jon let Jaime hit him as hard as he mustered, he can’t hurt him, such was life, he takes it on him, when Jaime grew tired, people gathered and just watched.

Brienne was the one who removed him from Jon who stayed to lie down, he f*cked it all up, big time, there was no more excuse, one of shadows did block his view and it was Lord Bolton with Elves and Wolves who stood behind him, Rhaenyra is with her father and mother along with both dragons, it looks like she is the surrogate mother to Honeybee, when Jon was too much involved in his personal affairs, she just hated to see her father in such a state, it broke her heart, she hated it. Seeing his fear of losing anymore, they were hugging, heartening him together with Brienne and then mutually as family.

- So, you are going to get up and make up for things or you stay down there, sulking…Jon? – when Bolton cuts you, it bleeds you more than that he did it actually, starts crying, now he knew how Robb felt, being so alone on that battlefield. Jon had every power, every capability, all of affinities, everything is on his side, but he fails and fails, and fails, failure after failure… - Good, now go and fail again…- what the? – Bolton, did you hear that?! – Hear what?! – there is that dark room where another him, no…him tells to Davos. – I failed. – Good, now go and fail again. – You don’t see it?! Roose? – it was surmised that he got away, on that other side, his safer haven where stakes weren’t by all means smaller, but he fights with hope, here is nill.

Divination arrived in an odd tiding, something what only he could taste. It was the image of Ned Stark, the late and last King in the North as human, it was hymn of cherubim and he cried even more. Dad. I failed you. Answer he got, was unexpected.

No, you failed self. You forgot who you are and so you have forgotten even me. Get up. GET UP! What is this?! The first taste of failing this is, the real one and you will succumb to your weakness. Get up, Wolf King, get up, Dragon, get your f*cking ass up!

What do you know of vulnerability? You are frightful, fearful, because you always had that control, now, it is gone, and you are the same as everyone else. Stop your delusions that you have more rights to protect. Now, you know when you weren’t able even Ellaria, even Jaime’s son, neither his other son.
You can’t save children, you can’t do anything and you know why?! I am going to reveal you a secret. You have to get rid of your pride, Jon Snow. That is what will be your doom and you will condemn the rest with it. So, Jon, get up!

- My Dad…he tells me I am his son. He makes me get up. – I see…so, what are you waiting for?! – Roose looked up at all tied Dandelion, he wasn’t going anywhere and still, he stays on high shores of what he is being a witness also.

- You heard our King, tie him to a tree, not too tight, yet sufficiently that he can slide up and down - lots of hands grabbed Dandelion and carried out the command by ruthless precision all the while Jon was standing up, his head was fuzzy and besotted, no more tears.

- And Jon – he gazes at Lord Bolton – one more of these throwing tantrums from you, just one, and mark my word, you will be woken up without your skin. Am I clear? – Jon looks away, turning…

- Don’t turn your back on me, my boy! I have more right than anyone to call you like that. I am still older than you ever will be, show some respect. Others my tolerate your sh*ts, I will not. You hear me?! Jon Snow!? Listen to me when I am talking to you. I am Bolton, my roots, perhaps, weren’t of the North on your side, but they were from the real one, farther than even prime origins of First Men to whom belonged the former King in the North! Dammit, JON! – this did the trick, it always does whenever he is mentioned, God, what kind of power did Ned have over Jon? No one will ever be sure how deep it went. Jon turns to him.

- I asked you something, was I clear. Jon? – finally, after brooding went away, Jon answers in his way.
- You are. You are clear, as always…Lord Bolton, you want the parading welcome?! – goddammit, that was a Targareyn who spoke back, ah… Ned… how did you do it?! He understands now why Ned grew older, beyond his years, it was said, that was the debt for the greater knowledge, it was a lie, Jon…made him…older.

Oh, Ned. I have attained a new perspective about you. My oldest friend. I am sorry I wasn’t there for you, with you, I was blind. You were alone. No one understood you, you bore it all, suffered upon your kingly back we all learned to watch, now…we watch Jon Snow’s, for someone will be watching ours too. Yet, you never gave up. You were the most rightful king of Northmen, the one there ever was for us. You old fool. You sacrificed your youth, health, every single day he shortened your life, but you still gave him all, he took it, he craved for it. The boy had awareness even when he wasn’t definite who or what he is, just that he is different, you never spared yourself, all went in him, you made certain that we see to it, everything so that Jon is today your Image.

Yes, we will never know how deep it all goes, maybe it is better that he never finds out. He was too old FOR THIS sh*t! And you entrusted me with him?! Oh, Ned. You deepsh*t! You knew all along and you chose me, out of all. Idiot, at least we know after whom Jon Takes, at last. The same one who headed for Dandelion for further interrogation. He will draw it from him as much as he can get. With Grace, of course. Doesn’t want to disappoint even himself.

- Listen to me, human. You either permit me to go inside your mind, or I break your Spirits!

Two may play this game. Before, he knew nothing, but at present, he knew to dance his role. As a Wolf. Bolton won’t be bigger Wolf than him! So, it was time to show his fangs. This human boy will either talk or suffer consequences, either way, Jaime brought boy to him back, he glances at Jaime who nods, to give his all as a King, for his people were giving to him. There was no debt, there is the duty he owes, above all else, there is something much more important. Responsibility. He won’t ever again in other people seek the excuses for his letdowns. He shall die standing, just like his father before him, let it be, whether One Ring or his Lord, whoever out there, Witcher. Come, I am waiting for you. His dragon creeps onto his shoulder. Boy is pale!
*
Are you, are you comin' to the tree?
Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three
Strange things did happen here, no stranger would it be
If we met at midnight in the hanging tree.

Mockingjay is near…
Are you…are you…coming to the tree?

To all who keep their promises.

With great power, comes great responsibility, even Aragorn fears for he wronged Ned Stark. Let him fear and die in fear while his kingdom rots within.

Who cares? Let every demon and Angel, know my name! Remember as North does!

I am not coming for you, nor to your realm. I let go what doesn’t serve me anymore. What is the Throne, what is Realm, what is Empire, before the life?
*
Demonic Laughter from the deep…tonight…my Princess Sansa…I mate you, My Lady.

Chapter 143: Elf – Man

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Little chaos. When you have someone else to fight for, other than yourself. Someone who was before your eyes, someone who wasn’t your blood or seed, but was someone who had become all. You could say that to anyone else, but the ultimate certainty is that no matter how much something is denied or dismissed, every flower grows on you in the most fathomless ways and it is yours, belongs to you. Possessing something that no else had, and yet, when the time calls, it is always what you lived for.

You may lie to God, never to self. You may talk about falsehoods and do any atrocity alive in the name of the Devil, but when the same demon knocks on the Door, you know, you loved and you were in love, intimately or as a friend, or something else what you very now protect with all the costs. You may even feign and pretend like all roles you did, that it is untrue, that it has nothing to do with you, it has with everyone.

We believe that what one person may do is so little in comparison to the achievements of those where grass is greener, we are so convinced in that universal truth, that we do not consider even for a second that small joys, small deeds are the ones who save the worlds because they grew bigger and maybe someday, they even manage to persuade those who are in doubt to make the larger step, and it all started with that one deed. When the first step is made, everything is else is much easier. Where the strength is coming? But from anger, from the deep that you defend what is to be guarded, to be what you never deemed, to try and to feel like there is no tomorrow. For what is life than when you best the ones who are never to be bested, but they were. Giving someone to drink, it is no weakness, it is a source of power. Once, that is learned, all else is due.

- Please, water, I am thirsty, your Grace, before you start. – You won’t resist? – the Dragon who crept on his shoulder screeches at him.

- I can’t give you something I can’t keep, but I will attempt to fight you, but please…mercy – that was it, this was the enemy, Jon clenches his fangs and hands into fists, glancing at his Pack, now, it is time to show his…determination, but one look at Jaime…gave him the admonishment. Looking away, this is what he does when he is sure of something that is…wrong. – Would you show…no…not me, but to my people such mercy which you ask of me? – the human boy looked up.

- Please…I don’t know…I am so thirsty. Please…water – suddenly, the thirst was reaching it pinnacle and when he thought that there was no grace, Dandelion was offered water, as fresh as spring from Jon’s flask, ah, he will never take it for granted.

- You know… - Dandelion starts, glancing up with gratitude – when there is food or water, no matter how you are sick or bad, you may get better. Let the food be your cure and let the cure be your food.

- This is just water from the wellspring… - Ah…in these predicaments, I drank the holiness from you – it hit him, then and now…was he…baptized, gazing up all over again because he was shorter than even Jon, and it isn’t helping that his burlier build was enveloping him so. Still, he was trying to find the answer. – Are you…the Promised, sir? If you are, I will…uncover to you all, everything you ask of myself – Jon steps back, considering what he was questioned, not the other way around.

- What would you want me to be, to you? – Our Savior. – Then, I will be what you ask of me, but first, I am just a man, that is the first, who wants to make things right, to return one little girl to her family, to mend – his eyes are met by Jaime and his little family – to all wrongs and to – his gaze is met by everybody when he said it – be King, better than my father before me, to be King they deserved and yearned to have, to be the one with decency, properly.

Even Honeybee was all solemn and proud. This was his Dragon Rider, he is spreading his little wings, covering the horizons even then, declaring who is the Boss!

The Top Dog. Dandelion, nearly, chuckles at this demonstration of little power.

Yes, Honeybee was Little Chaos, because chaotic times often, not randomly, bring to us the granted wish, that is not in an image of intelligent design but something much more profounder, thicker than blood.

- I won’t…I decided that I won’t resist you. Just, please, no gag. As a matter of fact. I have chosen to promise to you all, that once you unlock my mind, that in regard that you are bond to your Pack, even they will receive all what I share with you. What you know, they will too. I will tell all. I don’t know if you deserved it, nor what or who is deserving, but…I shall put my bet on you, to survive the odds. So, let the odds be ever in your favor. Jon Snow. Still, concerning Witcher or the Sorceress that is with him, my mind is cloaked, because Witcher, each time, when there is the Larger Catch or the Ultimate Prey as you are, is cooperating with someone from the secret guild of higher mysteries. They are normally a part of House of the Dragon, but they are also directly affiliated to the Elf Emperor’s realms and…

- That is my grandfather – Jon thought this will surprise enormously Dandelion, but it wasn’t.
- We know, it is a big family, trust me. Feanor was…fertile enough to give to the world, 7 sons we call Feanorians of Spirit of Fire, sometimes even Soul of Flame, because he is unburnt, and we know from whose side he harvested it at his birth, from his Queen Mother, now Queen Dowager, Miriel and he stopped at that number only because for the creation of each son, he poured in too much of his essence, yes, he used magic and then, all what was left is distributed by their seeds as you can see, that concluded in your life. Right? And before, he was never manifesting to you because it was no time, but I believe, through me, you may meet him, with the rest of your…kin. He is keen, but no…he won’t take any of them. That is the promise. They are safe from him! – Jon is sweltering, really?! Face to Face with the Elf Emperor.

- You may do that? Allow me the audience with my Grandsire? – I see you are impatient, he waits for you too, he already tugs at the corner of my brains, because I am the Minstrel, the Bard of Elves and it means that I am disciplined in the ways of Chaos of which the Magic is consisted, thanks to Geralt’s influence, of course, I am taken under the wing and High Sorceress’s protection, who is also the Great Lady of Blaze. For Yennefer of Vengerberg, there is a mystery that she needs no dragon, she is the Dragon Incarnate… and yes. You are going to meet…Great Feanor. He is the very likeness that won’t ever be rehashed. He is not a good man, he plays the Devil, yet, he is changed by love and that is his motivation, what intuitively pushes him forward jointly with the Wheel you desire to break as you did the Wall with your manifestations of God Shield.

- Then, what are we waiting for?! – for the first time, after such a long day, he is going to come to know the one who gave him to Ned Stark. Who chose one human over his son, who understood the necessity, not because Celegorm was incompetent as Father, but Jon would be Elf in heart and mind, even though he is born as human, and that will be the missed opportunity which Feanor never would deny to the humankind. What kind of man you must be to give away someone of your own family, wronging and denying your own son, keeping his mother as the spoil for the greater good?! And now, they are…what?! Jon was IN! Never knew how it happened, but alongside the Pack, he found about everything, how Celegorm came for her. She was kept from him, he forgave the father, because he knew if it happened earlier, Jon would never become Snow, grew who he is, not what. And now, they travelled and met…oh…Glorfindel, the golden Uncle, incredibly how he is now Uncle, with Ramsay and…who is this Blackie?! Images were soaring through, Roose’s heart was full. So, that is what was transpiring all along, both factions are united! For Sansa…and everything else, it was locked, but there is so much more to find out and here he is. His Shadow is waiting, for there are always those Ghosts in the Shells which were conjured for the means when it was necessary.
Feanor. In front of him was a man, who appeared younger than he actually was. Hm, 10.000 years and more…who knows and he didn’t waste his time.

- Hello, Jon. – YOU LOOK LIKE ME! – No, silly boy, you took after me. – Hey, you like my beard? – It is your image, this is mine, at least, it is better this way. People may tell us apart. – How that I look so alike with you?! – Oh, blood ran stronger in you, that is all. Genes are tricksters, remember that. – And you sound like me! – Jon, I was before you, not you before me, in this life. You sound like me! Not otherwise, finally, you got your elven voice back, it is barely recognizable, but you are not anymore a sound of a broken violin. – I suppressed myself, some people would have their eardrums burst. – That is right, the same problem, you fixed it on your own or I would intervene. – You would?! – You Idiot!!

Ah, how in the world he received such a grandchild? From whom? Must be by God or he was shaped so good by Ned…he would never doubt except for the missing feeling of him, yet, he made such a good…no…Jon wasn’t duty, Jon was love and he sees him. Eddard in Jon. He was the spitting image of his Grandsire, but the greater painting was owned by Great Lord, Ned Stark. Then, Feanor couldn’t restrain himself, taking Jon into his elven embrace, not even once he parted from any of his son. They lived together for centuries and he did with this little baby and look at him presently. This was that baby! Encircling his human features which resembled that of Elf. He was truthfully a handsome man, healthy and idiotic, just as it was proper!

This is how felt Glorfindel when he met his son in the girl’s form. He never took it against any of Balrogs, he was a demon of his own merit, eventually, all what was left of once the grandiose and demonic Beasts was all what is comprised into Blackie whom he learned to love so much, even though he threatens him on the daily basis because of Ramsay, and bit off his penis and just is the greatest obstacle to claim them both. Ah, his life was never sweeter or richer, nothing could be compared. However, even he slowly begins to feel it. Feanor, my best buddy, you are making your move. Ah, Good.
*
Comrades and cohorts of Phantom Balrogs are swarming around the Black Invisible Prison where at one point stood Mountain of Doom, she was so close when Great Elephant was bound to fall, but no, no one would dare, Wolf did, after it, it angered her so, that what is left of Mountain are the ruins which never harmed thanks to God’s intervention during her outbreak, but her obscured and cloaked screeching is announcing, soon, she is coming out!

Chapter 144: Our sins haunt us

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In the shadows, we sleep on its marvel chest, in its arms of marbled affliction. Through their Sires and Matriarchs, chimera daughters and sons are becoming from human to something of Elf and Man, but mostly Elf, regardless of House that one belonged. Sansa lost her hair, it was cut as the punishment for offending, now it grew back. Next paintings were the maelstrom of the slideshowing. Just because it is the same blood, the soul is distinctive from the Lord or Lady Parent. That is what makes them all unique. And then, Feanor…has shown him. Katniss Everdeen. The Mockingjay. He recognized the mockingbird symbol, the same one that Littlefinger wore. Wait, what does it mean?

Does her atomic arrows harm nature? No, only the targets. She is from another life. She is coming to protect him as he protects, while everyone else are protected by His Pack. Who sent for her? Grey Worm came after her, he was chosen to travel through universes to get her. And, no Grandsire, I know you won’t ask, but I won’t offer, not even one of mine comes with you. Feanor smiles fondly, showing him the next slides of colored canvases, rich with life, garish in elegance. There was the Ghost who didn’t bring her, he followed her, showed them the way, there is someone else…your human father and the Third Man, who was the third man? It was happening, Jon is pulled into another interspace, between outer and inner dimensions. There awaited him what Feanor wanted for Jon to face alone.

- I was never your enemy, brother – the mockingbird was ornamenting Littlefinger – you can trust me – so, it was all true. Indeed. Littlefinger shapeshifted and in his place was no other than Celebrimbor. Under the human skin, it was Elf. When he spoke to Ned Stark, when he walked around Lannisters, when he suffered in the human shape, it was all to deceive them all, and he did in the long run. The harm he made couldn’t be…undone. All along. However, Sansa saw through him and had his human form slain.

- You know, I know things you would never. Jon. Who do you think is behind all? Who am I? It was all me. I am the doppelganger of Celebrimbor. I am his Avatar. My good side that broke free from his almighty influence. So, it was only appropriate for me to keep you alive until your moment comes. I was the one who sent the Huntress. For him. My brother. And tell me, because you are aware of that other you in the original universe, there is something what you must know. Let me ask you, is Ned Stark…dead? – What kind of question is that? In both… - No, he isn’t. In one life he is Boromir, ah…you saw him. How he vanishes from your sight, you couldn’t catch him, but at one point he did smile in your hallucinations and passed it down to you. Responsibility.
Thus, Ned Stark through another name, and under the same guise, heartened you. Which means, through other means, he is alive, or in flesh, or in spirit.

- Arya Stark said that he doesn’t look like him, in those originals, nor his head on the pike? Isn’t it? Oh, I am so covetous to demonstrate you that other side of the story which you know very well. Lannisters did survive, they went to Essos, they were through all their travails and sufferings helped by a certain benefactor. When they were eventually ready to meet him. It was in one fine house. He turned to them, and guess who? Yes, Ned Stark – Jon was piecing together all the missing parts. It can’t be.

- He is the Avatar of God, they say, but it is the same coin of two sides. Remember, whenever Targaryen is born, the coin is flipped and depending on which side it falls, so it will be destined. Why only for Targaryens, what is so special about your breed? Hm? I wonder. The truth is…you have attained for yourself, his greater side. If Celebrimbor is incarnated Satan as your Grandsire was, the likes as the Morgoth and Sauron, Dark Lords who are coalesced into the Bringer of Gifts, Annatar, now slain too and you are Lucifer. Who is the Devil or it is the same? What do you think? Maybe God has too many faces. Maybe God is the Faceless. Maybe God is NO ONE, and if you think it through, it makes sense, for she is also…the reincarnated twin daughter of the same Elf Emperor, and she has done things that no one could ever dare to dream, she had unconsciously and this is where Azor Ahai comes into the light of the day – Jon sits down, he couldn’t breathe. – You possessed Arya, my sister – Jon glances up at him.

- I did. Soon, she could have killed even your precious Lady Mother. Can you envision it, when a mother wakes up and above is the child who kills her. – NOOOO! – Yet, there is that impediment, Azor Ahai. Upon his awakening, she was freed. All that Armageddon which was the sinister tolling of the bells is the Third Bloodmoon, and there is nothing to fear. I was defeated by Ice. And here I am. I can’t even make a stride in your House thanks to Lightbringer.

The Shadows which encased him were fading. Feanor was freeing him along with himself. This is what it was, he was being exorcized, cleansed from One Ring who was creating the universe inside the universe, pulling all strings behind the Throne, all along, the embodiment of Eru’s dark side, One Ring was, and this is why we are all tied to the Fate of One Ring, while the true Lord and its Creator, the Master, obliviously was unaware of such Power. All along, it was that little trinket around someone’s finger. It was alive, One Ring is sentient, it speaks, it tempts, it wants to live. It is everything you desire. One ring will give you.
One Ring will find you. One Ring will bind you and in the darkness devour you, because it had the mind of its own, the Will was manifested and that is why Sansa’s twin light ring of Jon’s gift on her 13th birthday was growing so weak. So were her Warg powers. Sansa, you are the Gatekeeper.

This is what Glorfindel in fact all this time planned, it wasn’t all about revenge, beneath the dark, the beating human heart fights, but even he was deluded. Because One Ring transcended its existence beyond the reach of its Forger. One Ring was the combination of all suffering, hate and the unborn and of those who died violently or unjustly, it was massing insides which are of yore. Once, it is destroyed, the balance will be restored.

But, how, Grandpa, how I can fight such Hate. It is more than I could expect. Jon has started to fear One Ring and this is what the Ring wished for. This is why Targaryens held the key. One RING Fears only Dragons. Why? Because in the Cold Fires of Mordor I was forged, and the Fire will melt me.

There are Vanyar Dragon Riders too, but only one is of Blood. One Ring feared Jon just as much Jon now fears One Ring. It was clarified. Celebrimbor might soon lose control over One Ring. Because One Ring was the Faceless God. It has materialized itself in the real space. Not through whom or what or where, even when, it was here, it came in the tantalizing birth. One Ring was the Devil who created all our Faces when we fall to create life, for the creation made all sacrifices. Worth it.

- Hello, Jon. I am in every cell of your regretful lives – slowly turning around, Jon was confronted by Abomination. It wore the female face, it is One Ring who looks back at him. For this is what was left, the most disturbing was only one fact, it was its own face, the one he knew all too well. Arya. He enquired.

- If One Ring dies, do you die too?

- I am his soul. It was the only way. When I failed to be born to my Elf Emperor, to my Sire and Great Patriarch, my twin sister stayed alive, totally shrouded from the rest of the world, but then, the new Ring was forged, the replica of One Ring, and I thought to myself. What if one Part of my soul is human too, and the elven, is in here stored, because it would be easy to control later that one resisting half of my soul, at the point when I assemble enough power force by suffering. In your weeping, I find my glee – the voice is warped, the face is distorted, Arya, is this why you always suffered more than us.

- If I destroy One Ring, does it mean that my sister…dies, along with you?!
- Of course. Arya Stark is One Ring. She doesn’t know it. Nor she should find out. I am her hateful part, the one she abandoned, and put aside, it was myself who had to store the remnants of what remained, of me into the new One Ring that became the Ultimate Force of all Forces. I feel. I eat, I drink, I bleed. I sleep Jon Snow. I want to live. Jon. You don’t allow me neither. And remember, the North remembers…if you kill me. You kill your sister. So, turn around. Because, in trying to save one sister, you will lose either one or both. Leave Sansa to Celebrimbor, she is the only one who holds the Gates of Hell, of the Chaos at bay from entering through your realm, and when it does happen, all Hells break and it will be your fault. JON SNOW. You are not the Christ. You are not Savior. You know nothing, because you are NO ONE! You have nothing, you can’t do anything to me! – Jon knew fear and he snickers.

- You lie. One Ring. You lie. There is no sacrifice. I don’t trust you. Once you are vanquished. Arya will be released from your impact too. Azor Ahai is there, our brother, oh, now all is so enlightened to me. This is what you always did. You turn our fears against us. You made it real, possible, because we believe so. If a man says that he is a failure, he ends up as a failure. This is how you lived, but no more. One Ring. No more. Robb Stark foiled your plans. You can’t have Arya. Not Lannister Princesses, not Sansa…this is who you want. THIS IS YOUR TRUE GOAL. You want to fuse with Arya, and this is why you will march on the Wall, to Winterfell. You did everything you could do possibly in your power, for her to fall into elven hands. Yet, you failed. Arya is out of reach, this is why you hold Our sister. THE ULTIMATE GOAL is not that she will die with you, but you crave her to feel full. And she always told me, how one part of her is missing, that she is no one without it. It was you! – Can you, then, even start to picture how much she is powerful, yet, all her powers are latent, but they will be awoken, and once I am fused with her. It is your Downfall! Jon Snow!

Jon’s resolve was fortified. Reinforced and this is why he promised to himself. Now or never. He will never give up. You hear me One Ring! Thank you, Grandpa, we came to the bottom of it all. Now more than ever, I will never give up. I PASS MY JUDGMENT ON YOU, ONE RING! You give up for you are making me give up! I am Jon f*cking Snow, and I will find a way to destroy you. Celebrimbor is just the Wall, you are the one who is hiding behind it. You are the One I must overcome, Not Celebrimbor! You will give me my sister back and f*ck off from Arya! You lay a finger, and mark my words, THE HELL IN WHICH YOU ARE wrought, will look LIKE THE PARADISE WHEN I FINISH WITH YOU! Got to the Nucleus.
*
Jon is out. Bond is attested. Disconnecting from boy whom he ordered to be untied, yet guarded and watched. They all knew who is the real adversary.
*
Give me your sister. Jon. Give me Arya Stark. If you won’t. I will…come for her, and Winterfell, the worlds and Life will burn. I promise you. SNOW!
*
What is lying in the Truth? From shadows?! Devouring whole homeworlds. Filling all of my Soul, the Will, the Spirit, The Mind, and the Essence in sin!

Chapter 145: Do you fear God?

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Men or women, or something in between. The Unborn twin daughter of Eowyn is re-embodied through Arya, her brothers should have been Feanorians but destiny wanted those to be Starks. The fruit of the answered love truly bloomed something outside of our imagination. Who would tell that a love can change the universe, of any kind. If someone did say it back then, it wouldn’t be believed, because such notions are forgotten relics we carry with ourselves till the day comes we die. Talion was remembering those days with his family until it was all taken from him.

Was it his fault? He remembers how he was shackled in the elven captivity. He was hauled by the rest of them, in rows upon rows, they were trudging while being tied down to the horse’s tail or easily just to horses. They could have been in their seats, but this was a retribution for they tried to escape.

Their justice because the little life he had left in him, he used to give a try, now he was just reckoning how it could come to this, what did he make of his life? He had it all, so, what was the importance, just for those who feed on emotions to take everything what he built for years, it was all vanishing into the night.

His son fought with him, he never bent the knee, begged him to do it. Elves slew him, in those days, they had little that willing side of theirs for the darker games, from these roots, came their kinkiness. For when they defended their little village from the conquerors, his wife killed herself, that was her escape. In the end, all what stayed in his remnants of the mind was that he was grabbed and strapped, to whom he belonged or by whose Host he was captured. He remembers that name even to this day and he cursed him.

He cursed his lineage, he cursed his blood, perhaps, this is why he hates everything of his, and yet, he ironically is the best friend, comrade and brother to his Lord Celebrimbor, for such were primal and earliest relationships which some stayed to this point, in the nights when the Time was Older, now it is becoming younger. When Arda was reshaped and when the life was different, but there was that name that stands out even today, above all. Spirit of Fire. The Very First Unburnt. Because only later Targaryens concluded, we do not burn.

Feanor, High King of Noldor before Fingolfin took over the mantle, who instilled the fear into the humankind and enemy alike, the adversaries of all breeds just as once Aegon the Conqueror did, who was his predecessor and Feanor learned from him, he is his successor, and through the same man, Jon Snow came to be, reincarnation of the Conqueror before he was betrayed and slain by his own kin, just because he was the strongest who opposed the subjugation and suppressing chains.
The one who gave them the first taste of madness, leaving so much to cry for, only to become the First among the Firstborns who stood for the rights of humanity when he realised what their survival entailed, therefore, dooming himself for something he fights even at this age. For Grand Feanor and the Great one, or of the greatness, came on their Great Eagles, in the middle of the harshest Winter that ever was, the cold it has been, it felt so frozen, it was the first among the firsts, the Winter, the very one, like you can’t even start to envision, the longest Night, the Long in where the whole generations of children were born and died under the same black clouds along unicorns and other elven companions.

It was the Morn of First Age, the Days of Great Conquest, after the primordial times which no one remembers. Do you know why no one remembers? Why the North still does? Because no one is alive from that day, so that he or she can tell a story.

For the Ones who are of the Olds, even they do not remember, they forgot. In the light of wakening, at the dawn in the elven wake to the humankind, all was occupied, invaded and renamed. What followed was that all the kingdoms of Elves were united under one Emperor or Imperator how they called him in these days.

Thanks to the two men who had a vision. The other was of Gold. In the end, Middle – Earth FELL to Valinor Elves.

It was the sacking and purging like it has never been seen. Eowyn still didn’t become the Empress, only later he came for her, when all was finished and she waited till the Third Age in which she was woken again, immortality from the Witch King has granted her the curse like to no other living being, the access to something she could do and change, but even rewards afterwards, couldn’t ever purify what was caused in the name of the Rise of Elven Empire. She was powerless, she knew nothing.

But she knew one thing. For one name stood up, out of mortality, outside and beyond, and above everyone, it was Glorfindel of the Golden Flower. For someone who was brutal, barbaric, thus the moniker Barbarian whose origins were of these strains, he was the gentlest with human slaves to whom he has fallen too. Never even one man, woman or child were hungry, thirsty and they were greatly taken care of, to the point that people willingly were surrendering to Glorfindel, if that means the respectable and decent life. But, then it was starting by one LAST NAME.

What Elves called, the Change they scorned to the last of all end times, the final days when the Universe dons the new dress, the humans who evolved as the answer to their sufferings, arose among the mankind. One House, One Name, One of the First Men amongst all else, the only Wargs while everyone else had their own evolution to follow. It was STARK.
Their hardy ancestors put the first stone, paved the brick and put the rock into something what in these epochs of times is the most famous as the North’s Wall, their name was just another brick IN THE WALL that is unbreakable and never shall be down or breached whiles the Wheels of Fortune brought a myriad to their heels. Such was the Fate of First Men and all else who came before, after and into the future. With the Children of Forest, they made the Pact, Children sacrificed their lives for the Men and through them, lived the Children, in each of Wood Elf, there is that drop of their enthralling Woods, and this is why Silvan Elves were so different from their elven kinfolk.

Eddard Stark, Ned’s Ancestor, told to his people, we build this Wall or we suffer the doom for the nights to come and they did… come. Oh, they did. If someone would think how hard is their suffering now. Just envisage, those infinite wars, with the invincible enemies and the Night as the darkness was your Shadow Friend, Hello. You came again. People were praying to False Gods, forgetting what matters but Stark lighted ways. It was before Feanor began conquests and who later finished what Conqueror blessed, it was the Foundation of the Wall by the sentient corpses of still alive Targaryens who were built in and by the ancient runes bound, so that the Wall gained its aware mind.

When Feanor together with Glorfindel grasped for what was incited, he allowed it to be completed, because they could fight against everyone, but never against Northmen, because of their Wall, the Man has survived and prevailed in these regions, others followed, and Rohan and Gondor, the United kingdoms of the East and West under the Man’s standards were risen, including the Citadels of Holy Land in the South, East, the West that was replaced by the Vale and the North, the last standing are, nowadays, those of the Southeastern Citadel ruled by Martell House, they were Dornish people, they were humiliated, called names and out of all, demeaned, yet, they are the long – standing, not only in the East, in the entire world. Why it is like this? Because the Irony plays the poetic dance.

You dig a grave for another, eventually, you fall in the same you prepared for someone else. And there is the Wall as the Citadel, but the Northern Citadel, the real one is wiped out, what remained is the Wall. But the Wall couldn’t be broken, couldn’t be torn down, couldn’t be overcome as long as there are Starks, but each of them, gave their lives and Hurin who were closest to their kindred, took over the name, married into the family that still stands, procreating even people as was Ned Stark, his Queen and their children.

When Feanor saw for himself that the Wall is unshakeable and unassailable, unbending, seeing what the damage for the side of the humanity he has unfettered upon, he drew back. And he took for what it is. Both Glorfindel or any other Elf, the Conqueror, all those invaders who gained their names, couldn’t be ever redeemed for the committed evil, the least they could do is to join in what was started.
Helping with the sacrifices of the corrupted souls, who once were embedded by the ironically elven spirits, for which later one, the Wall of the North, of the Northerners, was consolidated and complete. The Pact is hewn. It will never attack unless it is called upon the challenge and so it was until came the Warden, the Guardian, Protector and Defender, the Champion who moves the Wall, just like the one of southwest of the Holy Land by his another half- sister. Still, the Shadow was born. Feanor and Glorfindel were along with the elven world punished, not by losses but with Celebrimbor’s birth and One Ring’s life.

- How much for this specimen? – there was no Sun which could be covered by the greyish clouds, nor there was somebody who blocked the same and on that hour, there was no soul to weep. Forcefully, he was immortal. Staring at one spot, with the dead eyes, yet, there was the glint of life and hope in him, so, Elves distinguished that he was the survivor. He will survive, anger is what sustains him, what they absorbed, for which he was impossibly mad, why the anger keeps him alive, alike the last beaming ray of the sun, until the sad rains started to pass their judgments, and it is why he was, perhaps, chained to his Post with every probable bond, from feet to neck, but no tight gag, only one, which cleave gagged him.

Under the glimmering eaves of no sunshine, only weeping rains. Thereafter, he heard that distinct voice, he knew it was about for him to be sold. He couldn’t stand anymore, they were tiring him deliberately, so that he can’t sit, and to put his mind to the exhaustion of his strong body whose knees were getting weak, so that he can’t resist too much.

The only time he was resting is the feeding and watering time, washing or changing clothes and sleeping, for anything else, for days he was kept like this while the potential buyers were passing. For some he was too tame, for others, too feral, they could tell, for some there is no challenge or little, to some other buyers he was a mess they didn’t want to deal with.

They examined, they touched, they objectified him while he sends off those who are sold away or rebought. If he wasn’t bought at the end of the day, he will be shipped off, either to Valinor or worse. House of the Dragon, and they had ways to show you the brighter side of life, knowing very well, that there is always…worse. And it can be worse. He wishes to stay in Middle – Earth, in his East, where his son and wife were buried and lost their lives because…they were too damn stubborn to live and what he lived for?! Life didn’t defeat him, he hated himself for that.

Why doesn’t he give up? Elves are not miracle workers to retain you with no will to live and already, he feels that his chin is being held up. The buyer craves to see what he or she is buying, for fertilization or ingrown wombs they put in if you are males, for Elf females, it is a secret how they are doing it if it were a man, human women are easier to be claimed. Overall.
- Would you be mine? I would own your chains and you become my right hand. You can speak, a gag is lax! – he had no choice. – Yes, My Lord.

The Lord of the Darkness offers his mirth. For he was glad. The loneliest and the purest souls, the spirits within, the hearts of gold, attract darker beings who feed on symbiotically, in exchange, he was given the free reins and the elven horse. Celebrimbor commanded to his Eregion and Imperial knights that he doesn’t want any haunting fleck of symbols on him or another’s food in him, waters of this realm, nothing that would remind him of thralldom or any that wasn’t of Hollin.

Everything had to be remade so when he was riding with his new Elf Lord, Dark Prince of Elves, the Angel of War, for he was the warlord in his own esteem, Talion was re-manifested into his old self, learning that his new Elf friend doesn’t show his aces until the end, there was no need for some winged or stupendous creatures, extraordinary cohorts or mysterious and secretive companions of The Clandestine Arts of Magic or higher mysteries. Back then, he knew nothing.

It was just him and his Holy knights, not the High, like in Gondolin, but Holy because it was the derivation from Hollin, the other name of Eregion. And, the Great elvish Lord was talkative, he yearned to know everything about his knew spoil he saw as a friend at the first sight. If he doesn’t speak, he makes him and with no tongue, he can read him anyway, and he promised to him, it won’t be kind. So, he confessed all. This is where he found out just how much one of Feanorian ancestry is direful. He offered to bring back his family, he may bring back who directly or indirectly perpetuate the suicide, for suicidal thoughts are the force to be reckoned for all time. Talion refused. Asked Why?!
*
- You enthralled me, not even their hearts. Elves yearn for companionship, this is the very reason you left our tongues untarnished and free minds!

The Deathless Angel smiled meaningfully. Ah, Free will. It was tempting, getting a feeling of a need to cheer up his human friend. Promising a fine life.

- No care in the world you will have with me, from this hour forth, you live for my life, there is meaning to all I do. Elves long for the meaningful.

Chapter 146: Do me a favor, bend

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The soft power that supports the Throne. This is what Celebrimbor was thinking about his new friend who looked pretty handsome when he is suitably treated and kept, it is baffling to him why someone wouldn’t steal him away. He has got lucky with this one, but it has to be that uncompromising will, the unyielding soul even when he is broken and the unwavering technique of survival. Celebrimbor liked him so, even though, this man was profoundly moral for his taste. Why wouldn’t he want his family back to him?

It would be easy to him, they would be the same, but to Talion, even if he misses them, they are free. But to Celebrimbor, life is far more precious than some other journey they are undertaking. Why would this life be less just because it is harder and Talion wasn’t psychologically destroyed, although he is sore.

It must be that he is a sore loser like him too. Yes, he was perfect, and not someone he could include into his experimental underground chambers, the Door through once you go through, there is no way to get out, not just because of the darkling enchantments, but because you are never the same, yet he wouldn’t do it to a human unless there is not a very good reason, the certain behind it and this man amazed him that so. Silent and full of dignity even in bondage, he looked so appetizing to him, it suits him to be his spoil.

- Do you know that we came from Stars?! Oh, no, we are not some Space Elves, but there are these Wombs, we fashioned ones of our own, based on Targaryens, and they took from us everything else and reimagined of it, original. Anywise, the Dragons were always theirs, so we created ones of our personal breeds, which are different, but on par with theirs. And they are unburnt, unlike us who have to use our magical shields which do not weak us, but keep us away from burning out, something they do not possess, because they invested everything into their Dragon culture while ours is much more diverse in animal companions, too. Why am I telling you this? You might ask yourself? Hm, shy boy? – Celebrimbor leans a bit, if Talion didn’t know, he would say that this Dark Lord resembles more a fun-loving child. This is how he sounds, or acted. Was that another of his masks? He could tell.

- We Elves do not keep your mouths intact or your vocal chords in one place, nor do you have any gag in your cavern because we still love to respect your ways and hear your voices, after all, using mouths is still the most traditional and very indulging manner how to connect with…

- I don’t want to connect with you! You are my Master!

- Oh, good! You speak and not only that, you are clever, you know your place, I don’t need to remind you by putting you back, but still… Talion, my dear one, you are becoming my favored, the favorite spoil, the dearest out of all I owned, we may still love each other, there can be established the relationship of friendship, companionship and even empathy if you wish. I can be so good to you! This is what I am saying. We are one with Targaryen Elves and you humans are our sustenance for all stronger emotions of ours, deeper and darker, don’t you grasp it? – Talion now understands why Elves are so unpredictable, this man is the personification of every other faction out there.

- And you know, your name…somehow pulls to the Lannister line, you even look like them, not just the bearing. Ta-lion…are you a Lion?! Or I bought for myself the cub of lions?! – It is true what they say about Elves, you are observant. – NO WAY! – I am Bastard of Lannisters, if you like it better. – Huh! A bastard boy! How lovely, and I acquired one for myself! – They wanted me back, but I bear no ill-will, no bad blood, I just aspired to… - Have peace, to live attuned to the nature, it has no price. I understand…So, you are Lannister, Talion? – answers nothing back.

- You wouldn’t mind if I kill one or two of your kin, if they do not bend the knee – Talion remains quiet, dangerously, finally, Celebrimbor received what he triggered. – Feanorians already took everything from me, what possibly you could take more and…I know, my body and spirit, my mind. I have so much to lose, but I won’t give in to your games. You do what you have to, what you deem that demands your concern, but every life to me is precious, not just of Lannisters or any other you plan to take.

- You read me so well. You see, that is why we are such a great tandem! – Celebrimbor affectionately forced Talion into the big bear hug even on their horses. – And so, how do you like our elven stocks!? I mean, the noble stallions of ours! – he pecks purposely on the lips, taking a taste, licking his captured mouth.

- Oh, you taste so good, Talion. Maybe I pull your chains, claim, take you here and now – he tugs a bit strongly on the reins of Talion’s, yanking him closer to himself.

- Please…don’t – it was all what he uttered. Starting to get, for a such a short time, nervous stresses, and what is the eternity next to this guy? – Ah…nice one…You are good, very good. I like it – no, there are no more than one personality in him, he is the one who makes them his own, not just emulating with no fail, but even absorbing. Drawing in as HIS.

This one was of Glorfindel, and another was from the guy that is yet to be born. Ramsay Bolton. So, One Ring could even predict who will be given birth to this world. Scary.
When Glorfindel found out what Celebrimbor is capable of doing. Even taking his personality, acting like him, to sound and be voiced by the Shadow, seizing and capturing what he gained as the most relevant and notable traits, and not even that, to pretend he is someone else, taking after him or her.

That was it. Golden Lord delved deeper into the fleshes and blood of Arda to counter such nuisances and there he founded his Chimera Project, Daemon wasn’t the first, but he was the most perfect of all his perfections who recreated willingly others, whiles the ones who ran wild were either captured and remodeled by him or had to be put down by Witchers.

It all depends how the exchanged response shall be. In this manner, even Dany was through the surrogate mother reincarnated, from the lost son against the remaining Balrog who were no more, all that is left is epitomized in Blackie, with no aversion, freeing himself from weakness while the rest are just Phantoms of Ungoliant Lilith (Dark Daughter, the Lost Child of Eru). Balrogs were the First Generation, children of this Dark Goddess, the second were Primal looking Dragons and the Third of her Valyrian breed ended as the purest form, who later perfected themselves into something immoral and impure, bonding with the developed winged beasts we call Great Snakes, so she condemned her third creation, demolishing Freehold, and so, Targaryens, Reimagined who exchanged the home planet, Syrax and culture and everything that is comprised within it, with Original Elves, through the multiportals found their path by Wombs into our world and the known history remains as the monument to the 4th Age. The Age of Dragon.

To the coveted daughter, for Daughters care for their parents when the Old Age strikes, even immortal Elves and that was that soft spot for the female gender, but although she was older than her other two half-brothers by the same surrogate mother, unknown are fathers due to the favor which the High Priestess owed, she regains her maturity and grown body till the Third Age, young as the youngest and perceptive Spring. Another missing half and doppelganger of their Original Dany he shared with his First Mate, the lifelong partner, Swan Prince he claimed in the battle. One day, both Danys would be united. Never to trade her even when all Universes fall. Indeed.

And so, those all events together laced, declared, the Cold War between Glorfindel and Celebrimbor has begun, and it spanned through centuries, uncounted, the strained and in playfulness, just how both of the two liked the most and would never have it any other way. Never to anticipate that the two men will find in one another, even some sort of coerced cooperation in times of greater needs. When Fingolfin, younger brother of Feanor, who has taken over a Title of the High King of the Noldor in Eldamar, was dissatisfied, for his dissatisfaction grew larger over arranged practices, the way they are affecting his realm, he plotted to overtake Gondolin to expand his bounds.
As the answer, this is what Glor planned to the smallest detail, trading Sansa under the hidden agenda, he took to himself, the Rings of Power for his Great King whom he vowed to serve, to strengthen Gondolin even if it falls and got rebuilt in the even grander majestic beauty and marvelous magnificence, all this, just in case if Fingolfin outlines to give even a glimmer of occupying the Heart of Elven Worlds.

Later, Glorfindel defined the Pact with Fingolfin too, by giving him a woman he lusted after but couldn’t attain. The first Human High Queen who perhaps, can’t ever outclass the first human Empress of Elves, due to the traditions where the primary Shieldmaiden earned the mantle. Still Cersei Lannister. Lioness, was outshining everyone else with her surviving intuitions and pouring all what she learned from her Father into the wise practice. Lord Glorfindel absolutely tricked her into something for which she would never harbor the grudge against him and it was sealed.

What an Artist he was. If he weren’t what he turned to be, Celebrimbor would be the funniest Jester alive, not the Clown as a Barbarian. In this way, and in such a fashion, Celebrimbor came to be the one who MOCKS the world. This is what he was, Mockingbird. He may fool anybody, but not Talion. This is why, to him, Lannisters from the first day he met this guy, were the issue and more they lived under free reign, the more he was ascertained, that House needs to bend the knee, and Talion will be kept as his reward, trophy or prize, and what can he do?

If he doesn’t wish for his family to get back from the dead, only to be hanged before his eyes and then left for perpetuity to hang on his Ivory Walls, then it is better for Talion to keep his emotions in control. He belongs to him now and there is nothing he can do or say to oppose his dominance. His Will is bound to his, learning to love him unconditionally and give back what is given, to return what is unrequited. He shall be accepted by his Talion, like it or not! By Grace or Force. Hadn’t I known better…

* My Bastard BOY. Nowhere to run or hide from me. For elven eyes and ears reach far away.

In shadows, what is then his real personality or face? Just like the titles. Rhaenyra prefers Little Lady over Realm’s Delight, delighted over the first one.
Game of Thrones, ripe for the harvest, moving with the unnatural gracefulness. From the remaining residues of the conquered, my Hollin was built of two realms, up that is bathed in the sun, and down, the one where all divergences disappear and where the fun is starting to take Forms of the Delights!

Chapter 147: Forbidden and Strange Fruit

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The man from shadows, this is what he has grown to be and he wouldn’t change if for anything else. Let Celebrimbor stay the face of the Iron Throne and Rings of Power behind the scenes where the power resides, in which there are shadow people who remain singing blasphemous songs.

People want to be Kings and Queens, in spite of the world that says that is your cage you put yourself in. Despite the equality of which God has spoken that there is no lower lives, neither the higher.

It is all the Carven Throne with its runes of power upon the Door. They were riding without rest. Talion was starting to feel just how much Elves are durable and Elf steeds were from this world. They looked similar, and yet, different in the style of galloping or even walking, moving like serpents.

It could feel his dejection and distress. Celebrimbor, at one point, grabbed Talion’s reins all over again, pushing them to his side, studying Talion’s welfare and the state of mind, it is getting weakened, this wasn’t good. He signed to one of Elves, the vital signs are weaker.

- Bring me from that leather bag, yes, that is it…one of the elixirs for vitality. And the tincture, made of the mint – it was done rapidly while Talion was still sitting in his horse. It proved to be too much to pass through wastes and murky marches, inhabited by the inherent souls of those who clung to the life, giving off the greenish twilight of the never-ending nightfall.

This was the land between Mordor and East. The Land of the Lord of Darkness, of Rings of Powers and the shadow territories where the pale Wraiths were common sights.

Having been ill, that he was impelled to drink the very sour elixir, whiles another one was tasting as bitter upon his sweaty skin when it was applied, the stinging sensations were pulsing and permeating his senses. It was godless, at the same time, exhilarating. After a few minutes, the relief in due course ultimately arrived and he felt happier and restful. Looking up at Celebrimbor in gratitude.

- I appreciate it.

- You want me to carry you? Come, mount my horse, you want front or rear?

- No, I can ride my own horse.
- Your will is still frail. You need time to adjust to a new life. You sure feel good enough to ride it by yourself?

- I am well… - Celebrimbor, or something what you make up on the way. Even the title bastard is all right to me – at this, Talion glimpsed back at the smiling Elf.

- I just got tired.

- Easily, for days you were in elvish way of bondage, and you hadn’t shown even a shred of weakness or fatigue, and why now, on the horse, your will is wavering? Now, when all is easier for you, what kept you so tall and proud?!

- It would be nicer that it stayed harder, then I can continue hating your guts, that is what keeps me alive. The Anger, for what reason, I don’t know even myself, Celebrimbor.

- Very Good. Then, I just have to keep you mad! So, choose, I enthrall you on my whim and you do my bidding or you still are left with sufficient honor to even sh*t for yourself. Imagine it – this time, Talion was feeling much better, locking his gaze with that of the Dark Elf, and it was true, the Dark Elves are those who prefer the distant and cold light of star shine, under the glimmering eaves of his Ivory Walls of his realm. Even if he is Noldor, he was one of the Dark Elves too, either by choice or the blood. This was Celebrimbor Feanorian.

- Fine, and don’t offer me any food either, get it away from me! I am not hungry! – Talion was pushing the food far from him. Someone would swallow it, and he was rejecting what was a blessing.

- Eat or I will make you and…

- It won’t be kind. I know. Still, I am not hungry.

- You will be!

- Why? You brought supplies, and it isn’t like here you have anything to hunt, just some deserts, tropical steppes and high grasslands. Why is it like that?! Is there some story about this, the tribal nomads or nomadic wanderers, and you conquered them also?! Took what is theirs, occupied and renamed? This is what you Elves do – he starts to anger even Eregion Holy Knights who were till this moment respecting him, it all can turn on him, so simply like a light gust of breeze that was caressing their warmed bodies.
- It is not your concern, none of it, how we survive or lead our lives, you know nothing of these lands, but you will learn in time, I shall see to it and what skulks around or hides under any rock. If you are that curious, then know that if it weren’t for us, then all those vagabonds would die out. It is not an excuse. We found them starving and in need. They have attempted to acclimatize to the newly climates which were changing along with Arda, for it isn’t all our doing, they gave up themselves to us, swore their faith and fealty and we took them under our protection, the elvish wing. We taught them that even when it seems there is nothing, to find the greater picture in where you see none. And you, Talion. I warn you. You may cross some slight lines with me, even slighted me. It is amusing me. I know that you are needing some sort of control so that you humans have a feel that you are in control. You need that, we don’t. Because that is the only way you may be tame, but disobey me, one more time, you discover my other side, provoke me and you pay the price, deservingly. Now, eat! I have a good reason for it. There are hundreds of miles left and when you became weaker, it is too late to bring you back! These…deserts as you say…are your worst living nightmare, the nightmarish world where only Eregion bounds which are set by us, will protect you inwardly, and the only way to pass the moors and other moorlands is to take a shortcut, perchance, it is too perilous going through it due to conditions, howsoever, you avoid the slow death, but whoever thinks going through it and live to tell a story, trust me, or that one has to be a lucky bastard or the resourceful wolf. There is no third option, so I order you, my Talion. Eat!

Talion is taking his chance, elbowing Celebrimbor so strong that he was caught unawares. The Elf horse neighs, propping his front legs, The Dark Lord fell and Holy Knights were in the pursue at the present moment when currently he was exploiting the point of his escape. One of Elves leapt on him, only for Talion to strangle him with bare hands to the death while retaining the balance, leaving his carcass to be feed to vultures. Racing against odds...

- Prepare the nets and meshed snares for me! – Celebrimbor was up in his seat.

- What about the fallen?

- Burn all who had to fall in my honor and name and Eregion’s kingdom, it is all yours, for you built, not for me. That is why I am not leaving a single of my man to become anyone’s fodder to either Earth or animals. Whether Mother Nature likes it or not. Be it Allfather or not from her motherly womb. Whatever, just do it and leave Talion to me. That Bastard is mine! True Lannister! He deceived me and now, when I catch him, he will pray to his God that he wasn’t born or that he died alongside his family. He will taste it. I shall have him piss his blood! – maddened to the point of no return, Celebrimbor initiated the game of cat and mouse.
When Talion was convinced that he escaped, one of silver chakrams cut through his horse’s throat, a head was chopped off, sacrificing a qualitative lifeforce to hunt him down, propelling him forward. He was shoved into the filthy dirt and mired mud. Tried to get up, starting to run, only for his legs to be meshed into the iron snares around his feet, he fell down again, whilst the spread net is thrown over his throbbing figure. Sensing how the full body weight is crushed on him, getting such punches on the head and unto his upper body that he never believed that you can be beaten to the brink of death and still stay alive, because this is how Celebrimbor detained him.

Recapturing. He stood no chance. After some time, feels the stripping of his clothes he was donned in, before he is tightly bound, strung up high and had been clasped to hang from a tree, tied by his ankles. Dear God, when flogging began, all what he could think of is that his skin is being peeled off his body, that was a deceptive sensation. It was the interesting start of something and he didn’t let even a sound, for he had no voice to scream. His Lord made certain of it, he could sever out his tongue or rearrange his vocal chords or do anything he pictured. Still, no.

Due to one WHY, it isn’t that he is not suffering that much because of losses. His kinfolk of Elves are either re-embodied or born through elven children when they are purged from within. With humans it was running in a distinctive way, deeper and stronger, that nobody knew well what it implied in, it is the cause of all ills.

- My dearest Lannister, why so moron to be? Starks are idiots, Lannisters are morons, you weren’t to be pumped in and nothing will be grown in or grow inside you, not marked, just claimed and owned by me. I will have you, you are taken, you are to be humbled, subdued and broken, tamed so by me. Why are you doing this to yourself? Answer me? – clutching the copper whip while Talion is swinging in the winds, as the forbidden fruits. Strange One!

No answer. Talion, at least, was content. Tried and failed. Felt it, sensed it, it was within his reach. Feeling and sensing, even tasting, experiencing and at long last his being was put to rest, he could let go.

Southern trees in the East were bearing a strange fruit. Blood on the laden leaves of bountiful presents, its boughs were weighed by the teeming sins and at the ground of deep roots, hanging from the deceitful tree branches, hanged was Lannister.

- Bastard, do you heed my words?

- Yes…My Lord – rasped a human voice.
- I am using my One Ring, you heard of it? You will be like new, but never again betray me. What is out there for you? You have no one to return to or to what? Lannisters? No, you belong to me. You are mine, Lannister. My Lion. I own you, I shall repeat is as long as it doesn’t stay engraved into your marrowbones – stroking the weeping man, he is his.

Good. After some time, both were sitting next to each other all the while the Elf horses were grazing the dewy grass, green and soft, just the way they like it and by the means it was rained upon them. Holy Knights were camping around the site where were the two men. Elf and Man, side by side, just like they were riding, so they will be continuing together. That was the Pact. Celebrimbor turns around to untie the cleave gag that was forced into his spoil’s mouth and around his head. It seems, they were all even, relieving his mouth so he could speak with him. Some things will never change. And so it stayed until the 4th Age. Soon, he will be brought to his new home. A journey has continued long into the deadest of the night. Talion shadows a lion.
*
- I am putting you back in my bonds until we reach the destination, till then, I am the Master of your reins to lead you upon the leash. Your guide.
- Will you ever let me go? – his voice was dignified, except for sounding sorrowful, that tones he did recognize. It was a confrontation with Fate.
- Never. I pains me your defiance. Do not defy…You stirred my blood. The hellish disruptions in One Ring of mine. All these stirrings, are yours!

And I paid fortune for you!

Chapter 148: Defeat of who serves or rules?

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Sounds, voices, fragrances, music and…colors. Shadowing enshrouds, calls you closer to touch you. It really casts a larger shadow than anybody on the Wall, for somebody loves it when you hide within its folds. Blown are horns, banners and standards were waving high and almighty. The Ivory Gates are opened and they are greeted, rained by love from all corners of Hollin, another gorgeous name for their Eregion of two realms. They arrived to be welcomed by the elvish masses. Why aren’t they riding upon the flying or winged companions? They are merely testing their stamina along with spoils, almost each Elf is like this, making themselves powerful by each trial, even hardening their booties.

For waking night terrors are echoing, filling baby cries in the halls and abandoned walls, around feet, you feel the touch on the nape of the neck, while being marched in and well received by fellow citizens, the vassals who became curious about Talion, but his Lord just moved nearer and put a hood over his head. Forgetting that little detail, no one needs to discern him from the first glance when he starts striding their lands over time. And it was as it was promised. Talion’s bonds were removed upon reaching a journey’s end although, here and there, Celebrimbor would manipulate with his One Ring, so Talion keeps his voice low or not to speak at all, because Elves are more than sensitive to the voices of humans, not just smells or presences. Thankfully, the personal Imperial Guards stayed only with them once they found themselves in the inner circle of Palace. Because that was the palace, not Castle or Fortress, that was the adoring Ivy Palace.

- It is covered in the emerald green ivy. I like it that way. Green, all kinds of them – Celebrimbor speaks to him more in the voice of the mind, what he preferred most and mainly, but the traditional ways stay strong, it looks, for both races and within the bounds and reaches.

- Where are you going to keep me? Where am I going to be held? Which wing? – Celebrimbor snickers at these questions.

- It isn’t as though I am hiding you from the world, but how do you know it is chamber and not the dungeon? – Talion just snorts.

- You know, I am not keeping you hidden from anyone! – he tips forward, into his royal seat, whiles Talion decides to bring the hood down. Upon doing it, it was more than understandable why Celebrimbor concealed him. Talion was a man of the uncommon distinctions and absolutely marvelous qualities. He was a handsome man, not just in his holding, but even with the image he has given to the world. Calm and collected, composing when you may never know what stirs beneath.
- If I left you to House of Dragon, my dearest human, you would become the brain to their Wombs. We are more practical, but they have that intrinsic desire when it comes to the specific bloodlines, of course, if you do not bend – Talion looks his way.

- Why do you unearth their secrets to me?

- You know mine, already, and you are not going anywhere, so…the only affair I see at this point is that some of these Dragons will come to offer a better offer, and of course, I will decline each and every one of them. Like I said. You are all mine and mine alone, Lannister. I am not parting with you. Call it however you find suitable. You are easy on the eye, the moment the claim is laid upon you. Waiting.

- You believe I am more than I am showing to you? I am revealing you nothing.

- Well, we will see about that, it remains to be seen so, over and over – he sneers - Oh…you possess such the intellect. More or less, all Lannisters do. Soon, Rains of Castamere, not so far from here, will weep, through your hallways.

- What?!

- I see glimpses, what should have been the triumph of the Starks and Lannisters, staged by your kin inly your own family, has turned into tragedies of Lions, of the felled roses. Only because Starks strived to keep the peace in the North and Lannisters to survive inside the Bastions of Wall, before the spark of bad blood didn’t awaken the worst of the worst inside battlements and the Walls they didn’t know. This is what it means to be a migrant. Far from home, of every gleam of culture you would call your own or make it, for you will hate me, but you will love me too. I can live with both. It is the same with you Lannisters. You are charming beings. You immortalized the lost family and so, you condemned yourselves. It becomes your cross and tomb song, and so you wept, my Lion. I see never the whole picture. I have no sight, only what is cloaked from myself. But you will bow so low with sharp claws and coat of gold. Because when you dare to rebel and betray, I strike that great fear in you and you bend the knee – finally, Talion uncloaks his true nature of lions.

- Oh…but Celebrimbor, do not forget, whatever you are saying, it is coming to get back at you. And the last you will see, will be Lion!

Looking through him, at him staring back, like he could see all of what is left in.

The Lord of the Dark smiles back, fondly glaring his so rebellious Lion.

- Come, I have something to show you, Lannister. And no worry, do not fear me, it is your room where you will spend your eternity and weep. Because that is what you Lannisters do. In the Original timeline, I did…wipe you from the face of the Earth, but in this one. I want to keep at least one. Just one, because you…truthfully have something in yourself. You do not possess the high intelligence, but there is that intellect. You are intellectual people, and it might prevail in wars to come. I will use you, but I allow you to use me too.

- You and your little fingers…I have just met you, but I know you in the soul, Celebrimbor. What is your…goal? – You see…that is that what I was talking about. INTELLECT. Oh, it is why Wombs of Dragons are so…smart – every sting was a game to him, to test his boundaries, yet, Talion enjoyed the lavished life. Be it in the nature or the court. He always will be. Loved it and that meant only one thing. Celebrimbor is reading him nonstop. He knows what lies in his heart, what is in his head, and there is no escape from One Ring, but one thing he couldn’t unlock and that is his spirit. That is the care of the Ring, because even if there is that seething hatred, Lannisters heal in time. There is forgiveness even in abominations of the human scum as is all.

Stepping down, Talion was flanked from both sides, but his Lord just waves his hand and he stays alone with the favorite human whom he will favor so, if he permits him, even the innermost desires will come alive and gestures Talion to follow him. He had and both entered into the shaded part of the dimmed lightness. The carved pillars and stone marble was something what impressed him and what took him by surprise is the sudden flow of the vital force. There were no Guards in any way. Celebrimbor knew who is the guest. No one dares when he is in the question and the Second Age, they were on the brink of reaching it. Smart, more than smart move. However, he wanted for him to come to know him. In the future, it will be a demanded unity.

- Great Lord of the Golden Flower and High Knight of Gondolin, the personal Protector of his Great King Turgon – the cascading waterfalls of the rich golden mane turned along with the fairness in the snowlike features to the Dark Elf in his damascened attire of the lime green pattern of wavy motifs with the symbol of auric on this emblazoned chest, it was by the most artful artists designed along the lively cape that flows down and around his ankles. It is said, where he steps, all the wilted flowers of fairies, start to blossom back to the life, and new lives sprout from the barren grounds, that was the Conqueror the Great. Talion’s heart has sunken so. Feanorian and that One. How his life became the irony.

- You caught yourself a Lannister as I see – as if he was the glistering sun that shines…
- Without invitation, as always.

- From you? Never. I go where my spirit takes me.

- And this one you have come to take from me? To House of the Dragon?

- I am contracting some good alliances and I would be in need of one Lannister – he winks at Talion. – I offer love, I promise, only abundance and fine stuff await.

- Do not speak like it is the settled or arranged matter and do not do it behind my back or over my head. You overstep, I react. I do not give you my consent. Our so Dear God Elf, just because you are a good friend of my Elf Emperor Grandsire of all Elves and realms up till our eyes reach and ears might hear as long as tidings come to us. We wouldn’t love to have it any other way, anyhow else!

- In reality, I am his best and only, comrade and brother, above all. Why shouldn’t I be where I am if requesting connections? I am taking my chances wherever I am uninvited. Or with you or that thing around your little finger, I am your friend to whom you say hello. That is the best. I see no catch of why I wouldn’t be welcome at Lion’s court. Unlike someone, I have no need for birth privileges. Neither I bear grudges against those who pull those strings with the pure and innocent hearts in the golden threads as Puppet Masters. Hm, do you prefer playthings so well? – his ethereal voice is turning into nightingale’s song, of the lark and finch, in the most beautiful manner. The more he was older, the more his beauty was surpassed, but wherever he appears, he left everybody speechless. Truly, unprecedented God Elf in his own right he is owning and the proprieties which he engrained alone.

- I am not going anywhere with you – came the sudden answer, this is what distracted Glorfindel for a moment. Celebrimbor smirks.

- You stay to live your life with this guy?! – I hold a grudge against you, at least, he is just a bud of the foul lineage, but you are its supporting branch, and whatever you think this is it and for which, I mind less than you might consider.

Glorfindel’s countenance grows to be so young. Every time, it is, when he knows that he lost a battle before it even began, but he will watch from afar, he will save this man from his wretched destiny. Even if he tried, he knew, this was it. This win goes to Dark Elf. In spite of what come to be or what was done to him or his kinsfolk, he deserved a better chance. Becoming his Shadow in auric chords. Respecting the man’s choice, the decision that is his, but, he will be back, he will come and Celebrimbor was aware that just because he won this battle, he might lose a war.
Without any whom he expects, needless of courtship and courtesies, he escorts himself, prior to doing it, he steals a glance at leering Dark Lord who sneered God Elf’s failure.
Much later when Bastard of Lannisters learned that in front of him was the Bastard Stark, he regretted what he chose, binding himself to the Elf’s fate.

For what a Lion doesn’t know, Wolf never gives upon its prey once his razor fangs sank in depths to claw out what is there remaining, yet to be seen so.

When the late bloomers bloom, they grow into something the most incredible which takes the breath away from everybody, because everyone wants to be different and when they are, someone else is, only then, they knew their truth. Giving yourself a chance to perfect the art and then show it to all else.
*
And so we spoke. Wood or Silvan Elves, perhaps, changed their ways, but what is the innate in them, always stays and so we spoke of instincts and ills.

Chapter 149: Novelty

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There shall be humans with elven hearts, among the firsts is Glorfindel who gains human one, the one who will sleep with eyes closed, not daydreaming and sleepwalking, even though from time to time, depending on the situations, and after copulation, Elves have to sleep unlike their counterparts, Reimagined, that doesn’t take away from their efficiency. And after a while, the deep thinker with his brooding came to the deduction that it wouldn’t be wise to steal one Lannister, even if that would be easy. He is smarter than that. Doesn’t want to start something openly with that bastard with little fingers.

He has to wade with extreme caution. Oh, well. Let it be, he is going to come up with something, he always does, no matter how much time passes and it is on his side, considering that Lannister can’t ever die as long as One Ring has its upmost influence over the immortalization which can lapse as well. For the Lord of Shadows and its sister Dark, is one cunning and perfidious bastard.

One side of the mouth curls up. Oh, yeah. The Eras of Gold and Ring has just commenced its first round and he looked forward to the next. Enjoy, Celebrimbor, the war will be mine as you will be for my experiments too. Why not, as long as you live, why would Feanor concern himself with your life that is akin to the butterfly with no wings. Just wait it, I will come back for you all. While Eregion is innocent. Let it stand. It is after all, one of the most treasured elven realms in these parts of the world. For the time being, Talion was having the similar conversation after the Thunder God has left the building. What the f*ck was that? Was it always like that?

- Yes, it is. In his golden presence? Of course. He is a sore loser. And no, you can’t shield your thoughts from me because you have bound yourself to me in the direct way… remember? On the hanging tree. Hm, it rings some bells – Talion squints his eyes, slanting them intentionally because of untapped ire, letting his Lord have his way, for a moment. - But, all bastards are losers, after all. They can’t help it, how you are born, that is how you stay. He got lucky, that is all – it was plain that Celebrimbor had issues with Glorfindel, the feelings are mutual and returned, just as Glorfindel was feeling about him in turn.

- He would offer more…for me? – the crossed thought twisted his intestines, just to have the thinking like this, it was showing to him how low you can fall when you are in another environment that forces you to survive. Just how much this word is sick in the head, but that is the only mind he had, as well as the life, including the real life of this world. Making something out of his circ*mstances, for there is no reason not to shape the happiness out of muddy slime. At least, HIS Elf Lord is the evil he knows.
Glorfindel is unpredictable and that is what makes him scary, all in all.

- Oh, yes…if I only extended my little finger, he takes the whole hand. He would make me resell you to whatever I sought. Barbaric and savage, if only I made that fatal move. You have to be very careful around him, how you take your stand in his godly presence or speak, he can prove to be nasty if you disrespect him. He hates to be ignored or disregarded and trust me, stay on his good side, mold yourself more friendly, because he will sneak around with the godless title he gained by defeating Morgoth and the rest of us, Sauron. Whiles Ungoliant, the Dark Goddess was too much for everyone, left to the confession of one who created her life, so as a good father, Eru took care of his lost daughter, whilst she is in the search for her Lost Son, but I wouldn’t be surprised that this bastard gnaws at her hairy legs too. He wasn’t just interested. If there is no real challenge that can inspire him, even the Force as Ungoliant is, then it wouldn’t crawl into his inspiration. He is bored. In any way, for some time, she is constricted…hm…maybe I even pay my visit to forge with her a Pact? No…no…forget it, Talion, I want to focus on you, for the time that comes, later I will have time for Mountain of Doom. Even Glorfindel is not that stupid to try his luck or he is? Oh, just push him and here he is. Idiot. And yes, this will be your room? How do you like it? – Talion stays low.

- It is preferable. – Ah…you are of those! – Of whom?! – You secretly love luxury and opulence. – Who doesn’t? – That wasn’t the question, you are unnerving me! – I thought that is my duty. – You see! Never mind. So then, how does he strike you? – Why are you suddenly so agitated, he has left! – He will be back and I must prepare you, to brace yourself. – For what?! – He is a stalker. Barbarian. He fled from the rags, but noble rags stayed in him, lost nobility is reclaimed. – And he makes quite the impact.

- Yes, he does…what…what did you say? – You don’t stop talking about him even when he is long gone. – That is what he urges you to think and you can’t and not to think of it. You get me, do you?! – You better enlighten me, why do you keep your One Ring on the little finger? – It is the hardest to reach. – Ah and that mockingbird as your symbol? – Oh why…we do mock all the rousing systems we live in? Why not I? You see…this is why I have this care about our Mother Arda. People see dispositions as something that can be taken, or regained. But it isn’t like this. There are people who can’t ever go up because it is their destiny, for name and reputation is everything, but then again, comes one silly, bastardized and poor Lannister, which is the oddity for self and no matter how much I own, possess or hold, you are the one who spellbinds me with your existing. – It cuts deep. – Deeper than you would know and much darker than when you dwell on the same.
- I would have to…lay with you… you will bed me? – No, I am going to mate you because, you see…- Celebrimbor approaches his slightly taller Lannister, fairness turns him on – I care about people who serve me, but what doesn’t serve me, it is the bad investment, you are smart about what is done to bad investments. You throw it to fodder for the pigs to eat, for in any way, they are just our food for slaughter, isn’t it? Do you prefer…pigs or lambs?

- You are not scaring me, what is your point, that is the crucial question? – I keep women. For all sorts of necessities in my harems. Name it, later, when enough is enough, I divide among my men who are needing them for the creation of families. You follow me up to now? – I can’t give birth to any of your children.

- Ahhh…intellect! Here it is, Ladies and Gentlemen! The man who reads between the lines. – What an impostor you are and that performance with your hands and body, it is rather silly with that raspy voice of yours also. – And I prefer redheads – he winks – just for denying me my right, I make it sure, for all her family to fall. I even like to kill their husbands in the sinister ways, and I don’t even do anything! Heads fall by themselves and tell me, why do you think that you have a choice? I said, that you won’t have the Lord in the bed, nor to be marked or anything alike, but you owe obligations to me and why do you delude yourself that you won’t be forced? I can grow womb in you just like any other Elf, be it male or female who may inseminate too, all kinds of wombs…

- I don’t want your children and flay me, force me, make me, there will be no child. No Feanorian, ask that One Ring of yours. Every child that is born from me, will be slaughtered too. If you told me the truth about my kin family, then, you very well know that Lions devour their cubs if they present the danger to them. – You wouldn’t… - And who is going to stop me? Guards, God or You, that Ring around your little one or goodness? I am way passed that and it is all your contribution, find yourself a suitable woman for mate.

He may be a charlatan, but there was one truth about him. Never trust him even when he is trustful. Both are monsters. It amuses his Elf Lord, far more!

- Good then. Is that the Pact? – I believe so. – You Lannisters, I love your family. I really do. You are good, very splendid. – Now you did alter your personality. – Did I? Have I? – Celebrimbor…whatever or however you prefer…My Lord, but stop it. When you are with me, just be yourself, is that all right to you? For I am the House you can’t slither into far and not to live long from being burned. We are forbidden as you are who saw the world as it is, so we take it as it could be.
- Bravo. You see, that is why you are not a good commodity. That tongue has a lot to expound and you are too much work. That is why people have no idea what they miss, but in every way – Celebrimbor rests his elvish hands upon the upper muscled arms of his new friend – I thrive in Chaos. TO both of us, it is the perfect playground where we make our wishes into reality. You suit me so. I like you. I really do. It is shame how much you dismiss opportunities presented to you. – I don’t dance with the Devils and should I have my time for myself? Even my thoughts? – Why of course. Enjoy yourself, make yourself at home, feel that way, but you eat with me when I desire you and your mouth to hear. For everything else, do whatever you like but…- there is that but, a grey shade in a heart of his black irises that remind so much of Great Grandsire, gleamed – you try to flee and dear Bastard Lannister, you have ensured the torture sins.

Talion didn’t even wince when he touches him, far from it when he grips a bit more. Because, later he shall unravel, little by little how it all works and goes, how he does it. He implanted even the perfect human clone of himself. Littlefinger who has gotten eaten by Glorfindel in the end. Well, he was the bad investment anyway and what do you do with bad investments, throw them to pigs and lambs. In all the Chaos, he found one little girl, Katniss Everdeen, he saw to it that she lives, however, she was fledged by both Eru and him, so that she is the double agent. The one who bent to the side of Jon Snow, not him, for it was her mission to bring Jon Snow indiscreetly to One and rightly to him. Thanks to a Gift in Grey Worm, she overcame Ring.

Chapter 150: Innocence of Sin

Chapter Text

It might be so dark that what it enshrouds is the tiny particle that shines through as the star that wouldn’t be one without its light. Using someone’s good heart and the kindness against you is the ultimate crime that tells you how much there is no love in the temptations of blood and fire, when even the vampiric or bloodthirsty hungry mongrels are nothing different from those who feed on emotions of others and their submission to the greater causes. Talion, the more time he spent in his own mind, could reconstruct what was happening where he is. It wasn’t just distorting bodies, taken and lost souls and torturing of spirits.

It was anything you could think of and one that mostly disturbed him was the fact that one man, after some time of being dead and unable to find its light, is left stuck, the one who committed the suicide after almost losing his life, because he dared to go beyond the possibilities of one human life which can do to another for his hedonism and pleasure. He wasn’t always like this, but when it came to pass, it was too late, crucified and about to be burned, but nevertheless, Golden God spared him and sold him to the next where he couldn’t take it anymore.

All that noble kindness, underneath doesn’t dwell the darkness, but something that is humanlike and that remorse was something he couldn’t bear. So, he took his own life, gave the birth to another soul that replaced him, took the life that should have been his own, but he clings to it and this is where he is lingering still, and that is where Talion’s worries actually started, because, believe it or not, he cared for the Bastard. Just when he remembers how much he pictured of him dying or seeing self to do it at the end of times, he missed a very being of his core whenever he was someplace far, but he would always come back to him, for their friendship. Nobody is what is seems and the worlds of parallel magnificence are spreading up and down, below and above. It was life. Was it the Ring? No, and if it was, this part of him, the One never can tame or control. Celebrimbor forged with him that friendship, the bastardized so.

- Slaves dislike their loss of freedom although their Masters can’t ever comprehend why would that be, when there is no trouble for them in this world. It is extremely appropriate, if you don’t see it, however, that is where that ugly side, even of mine, was in the front seat whenever there was the punishment to be doled out – Varys spoke while he sat with Talion in one of the Lord’s gardens, for enjoyable was the company and he savored the tastes of the new life, only very now being given the body for real, that one that was borrowed, wasn’t the one that is fitting his flavors at all, it took some time, and even so, his human self is to remain in the shady shades of the Lord’s as long as he isn’t called to be shown to the light.
Until then he prospers in the dark. It was thrilling to feel as if he is the ace at hand, somebody who affects the Wheel in the soft powering of himself.

- You really enjoy being nicely kept and caged, groomed as his slave, who would ponder on it then, when you were just as others who were in your chains too, Master Varys. It is irony in his own park of abominations and not to forget, you love your cage, Eregion or our beloved Hollin. – You are aware that there is nothing that can protect you for long against God Elf? He will come for you. You understand that Talion, even if he must tear down these Walls, his appetite never is weakening, it strengthens over time and Elves do not forget. Remember – soft voice opposes manful.

It wasn’t anymore because of anything but…for the pride. No one stays in debt to God Elf and Lannisters always pay their debts. Varys reminded him.

- How on the Earth, you could deny or reject Lord Glorfindel? Outright! – I wasn’t thinking back then. I am now smarter. – Well, you know what they say, better later than never – he takes a sip, ah, this wine is from Seven Heavens. – I am just the forbidden fruit for his Harem, nothing else.

- Don’t be so sure or underestimating your qualities. It is true, there may be exceptions of who befits him logically, but you should not have done that to yourself, all that hunches in your head, it must be overtiring, he never left your thoughts. Didn’t he? – Talion lied to Celebrimbor, because when he accused him how God Elf is all what he could think over and over, it was what he was living through the same and this is something that One Ring or his elven mind can’t catch up to the detail, only the fog in which the fear was completed into something as the thrill of being preyed upon by the beauty of gold. – What do you think are his plans with me? I don’t believe that Celebrimbor is dying at all, he just changes his face, shapes or the matter. – True, One Ring is the Master, not the one who Controls his lordship.

- Most likely, our friend of the obscuring nights stays alive, but why then…Glorfindel doesn’t do it in the open? The challenge? – Glorfindel is smart. He might not seem so. Idiot you may say, but the smart one, these are the likes you must be wary of the most.

- You are not? – He already knows, I was his, you remember? – How come he gets all these tidings?

- Birds. I tell you, it is all about little birds. I know that the best. My life as the Master of Whisperers, it was all about the tiny…little birds.

- And you were feeding them with chocolate?
- The same with I was tempted too by our Lord. Bless him! He makes the most excellent and homemade chocolate, filled with marzipan that was before only the prerogative to the privileged and now it is available to everybody – he really adored these handmade delicacies, especially if he is approached by a kind smile and this is superficially how their Lord hunts. – You love the way you were captured by him?! You could get to that Other Side, he brought you back. Varys. You were free.

- I was, but the chocolate, my friend. The exquisite aroma, who can decline that or oppose it? I certainly didn’t even try to resist, due to the truth that I love the way he does things. You know you are in some big sh*t and even though you know, he tortures you psychologically just to remind you that you must stay reminded of what awaits, even if you never get to that point. You have already failed your own mind. Brilliant tactics I say. We may never agree upon several things, but we both consent to be devoted to him, his wee slaves. And, you know, there is something cuddly of being, you know...someone’s property – and on and on, and Talion was like, he is surrounded by idiots!

Overall, he was the most idiotic for having a debt toward Glorfindel. He had to think up something. Can he borrow to repay, or it does not go this way.

- What Age is this? – This is the young era of Third Age, why? – When do you presume that will be his next…visit? – His visits are mainly the attempt to conquer, from within or out, or in some mysterious ways. – You know about whom I am talking? – I am surprised that I wouldn’t know, in regard to the fact that this is what we were conversing about like the whole time. I wouldn’t even notice if I weren’t reminded by you, dear Lion.

- And how this dear lion pays back to God Elf? Allow him to f*ck him or… - It isn’t that simple. Dear friend. Glorfindel is not cheap and he isn’t easy, and from all other things. He isn’t your whor*. The one who reads what we say, pretty much is thoughtful that no one makes of Glor the slu*t, he makes of you – sighing out, it only ascertained that he had to cope with this on his own, due to personal manners, all by himself, because he can’t pretend or depend that Celebrimbor will always protect him from Glorfindel and this is something that went in over his head, for all he could care. – We never can live in peace with him or without. – And what about you?

- I have no debt. You have. Of course, only if I offer myself, it is another story. – Celebrimbor won’t fall, not in the way we believe. – No, Eregion or his another name in elvish, Hollin will stand and Elves would always be in need for the advisor. I like it in here, overall. You are the issue for itself.
- Why thank you. You always have people feel better. – It is my duty – the sullen and bleak one, thought Talion who was watching after smug Varys. Dear God! He has to clear his mind, settling himself to walk through the gardens, not missing out anything of what he wasn’t seeing so far. There must be something!

There are things which were bothering him indefinitely. When it will stop and what to do next? He wasn’t wasting his time, he was learning, perfecting and improving self, he worked for his well-doing, for this country, people, realm and the total kingdom. Overall. This was his home like no any Lannister court or castle would be or should. Yet, he all the time feels that he is doing something wrong. In fact, when you feel that way, it is the new road. Everyone is settled and content, rigorously complacent how they lived their lives, in there something was wrong about it all to him too.

For one person changes it all. In one way or another and you might not see it yet, howsoever, the clearer and bigger picture each time lurks around, stalking as the stalker, to skulk what is occult and disguised in the faceless masks. For the Faceless God, or whatever that is, demands the faces, this one HAD NO FACE. It was truthfully NO ONE. Some of the twigs which were shedding the newly crusts are snapped. He isn’t turning around. It was done knowingly, because it seems, he sneaked in, and stealthy crept on him. Yes, not for long from facing the fate, not for long he will be kept from him. Spins around in the manifold easiness. It is preferably better when it is harder to catch, it shapes the hunt into the better experience. It was him in Flesh.

- Are you weary from being his plaything? Miss your Puppet Master? Or you are willing to pay your debt. Lannister!? – Glorfindel beams sunnily.

Smelling fear that was pervaded. Do you dislike beauty of the character?! I pull your strings, although I do not possess your reins and chains to guide and this is when you are being irradiated as if there was the real Sun up above. The sunset was falling, over the mountain peaks which were endowed by the crystal snow, all of the beautified sea green in the blossoms and trees are leaving the mystifying feeling of the hidden dignity, in the nightshades.

There are all sorts of angels, those who drink blood, those who are demons themselves and those who are energy vampires of both emotions and virtues.

Lannister who doesn’t pay his debts is providence for itself. And, the good heart of purity, gold and serenity is the tenderness that is affordable in Hell. Evanishing in the obscurity where the snow is painted in blood.

Chapter 151: Cry in the dark and void

Chapter Text

To step away from the shadows of any man, it always proves to be a little bit difficult. Because one thing is a dream, another is the reality that draws you perfectly inside of the troubling matter. Lord Glorfindel was the atypical and deviant form of the elven life, because principally, what he came across, regarding specifically the elven species and including all of their races, and differences amidst the tribes and breeds, Glorfindel strikes distinctly.

- What do you want, My Lord? I hope, not me?

- I am bothered by what you said to me.

- It was a long time ago, uncountable years passed under the same bridge and you still hold on…

- You have to understand. The time is passing diversely for Elves. What you mistake as epochs ago, to me, it is as fresh as it was merely yesterday. It stuck on me. What did I do? Have I taken someone from you?

- You know you hurt people and…

- I ask you about you and yourself. You think that I kill or make someone suffer indiscriminately? You forget that you have the dealings with the Elf, not your average human being. I read people even without needing to go into their heads. Many times, I don’t even need to do that. The eyes tell me all, they mislead you, it may happen, but not to me. Not to the elven folk. So, I ask you…what did I do? – this was it.

Is this why Glorfindel stalked him since the First Age!?

And that apologetic, remorseful stance?!

Is it truly real for him to believe, that it was the guilty conscience, the pang of guilt and not what Varys told him?!

What he made himself be in front of this man?

- You know that you can tell me everything. – Why should I trust you? Why would I have a reason?! You are Glorfindel of the Golden Flower – nearly humanly, Elf tenderly smiles back, offers laugh.

- For numberless centuries I lived with my mother in Morgoth’s captivity. I was his slave as bottomless others, the cheap labor that toiled in the nested shadows of the ceaseless darkening, with no day of light, that golden flower was all I knew when my mother gave birth to me. It was the only light in the world of shadows I tried to flee with my mother, only to get recaptured all anew and the torture we have been forced to go through…I cursed the father I never wanted to know, even a name, who was invoked by my mother in the time of her most desperate loneliness, from another age, in one night, he conceived me and left and the seed burrowed in the womb. After that, I experienced, tasted…what is looks like when you see that other side of self. I strengthened both myself and my mother. I worked in their mines. Ugly and filthy places, no fresh air, my strands of hair were of cinder and ash. This pretty clothes on me, trust me when I tell you, if you have met me back then, it would be all sweat, rags and dirtiness. I worked enormously hard. Sometimes, oh, all the times, I don’t seem to remember as I used to. And I was asking, is this going somewhere, will it be worth it, but if for nothing else, I never gave up. The anger was what sustained me. I couldn’t know that I will be some God Elf. There was no crystal ball. No some spilled beans. How would I know?! I shouldn’t. What is left for me than to hold out. And I did. I committed unconceivable to get where I am. Am I proud for what I had to do to survive and reclaim what is mine? I would rather ask you. Would you prefer that I didn’t succeed and then all this conversation would never open your eyes. I can help you, Lannister. You are in the dark. And on the battlefield, you want me, not Boltons. Human demons I hear they are called in the North (somewhat he sneered at the thought). I always take prisoners or hold captives, they have a choice and I accept anyone’s surrender. What I do to others is nothing against mercy I never received and I saw horrors, brutal and appalling, Elves malformed into the their worst images. Erstwhile, they weren’t even of Orcs. So I took my mercy. I do not justify my actions, they are my own, to place people into the same, but never the identical circ*mstances as I was, I know and I still do the similar, and yet, it is different. Do you know why? Sometimes, it has nothing to do with my survival, or how we see life, or that we are what we are, but with the concept that human lives are precious to us, unlike to you, humans. See as you like it, we are doing favors to both kinds. We are your only chance for seeing another age and another. You are sent to us as the means to prolong civilizations of Elves, we are sent to you, as someone who will say, hey, stop and be ours, live, don’t get yourselves at each other’s throats. We offer love, in exchange, submission is all what we ask because we are born that way. You pretty much see that nothing bad happens to you with Celebrimbor? Why do you think it is that way? You submitted yourself. After all. My father is King in the North – upon saying it. Talion’s eyes were open wide. King in the North, it was the prophecy he whispered out. Elf gives a bright smile to him, as he knew that he won him this time.
- That name, that title, it does wonders to all humans. King in the North is powerful to be. - I am...STARK.

Talion learned everything what he could.
What was happening to his kin and all about Starks and how his people are integrated into a culture of a Wall!

- Lord Glorfindel – this was it.

Glor knows when he has gotten someone.

- Tell me all, what burdens your heart, what lies inside it.

- I hated you because you were taking and yet, you were merciful. It would be easier, like I said to Celebrimbor, that you are Monster. You are, but never to us, and…perhaps, I regret for not coming with you, for not allowing you to take me – his tears are held in, the true Lannister, never showing the great deal of what is stirring deep in their depths – but I can’t leave Celebrimbor. He needs me. I am all what he has, in the end. It is the same with me but…you see…there is one girl. My daughter. Celebrimbor never found out. She survived. I gave her elven potion, coerced her to drink it. One of Elves…forgot it on the battlefield, or lost it, never came back for it, and I gave her to drink it. I told her. RUN, RUN, as far as your feet may take you. Majority of Elf riders was unsuccessful to catch up to her because she gained the advantage and she went through the Whispering Woods that spans from the South to the East and there on the eastern borders of Rohan, Lannisters, her kin took her in. Noticing that she doesn’t age, they hid her identity, knowing all too well that soon, the age will start showing up and elven potion shall run out of its power. What to do? To whom they can give her to be raised into the adulthood, because the potion was faulty and she stayed a child for innumerable centuries, until she started to grow again, she was a secret that she is the daughter of Helm. The Forebear of Rohan and Lannister’s kin. Of the Eastern Kings, and this is why she was under the curse of never growing up. The greater is blood, the burden is far more prevalent as the sin and it was in her that took the shape. That was the story. And then…it did occur. For the Third Age is youngest and shortest, the 4th one will be the longest of all nights. One man, to whom she was like a daughter for real and who appeared as the twin sister to his son, claimed her for his family and under his upbringing, she has grown into the prodigious lady of her both common style and noble status, known as Cersei Lannister, my lioness – upon this confession. Hearing it, having harked it, Glorfindel is left dumbstruck.

- You are the father of Cersei?! You have a daughter?! Does she…
- Yes. She knows that Tywin is the father who raised her and that her birth is still out there. Why do you guess that she won’t try anything to get into the elven society?! I am her goal. And I want you to give it her. She is willing to sacrifice what she has, so that she appease through gains the unrests of her own heart. To find me. Even though it won’t be in a way she believed, her place is among Elves. Don’t tell her about me. She will find me by herself. Capable of all my daughter is and now you see – he rises a gaze at Glor – who she is.

He can’t reach for her himself or Celebrimbor will gain lore, may exploit to his advantage. This is one of main reasons, not just due to ill-fated friendship, for loyalty of Lannister is sealed to his King, as his Kingsguard, he won’t be Kingslayer. Not now, not ever. Lannisters protect, they do not take lives, Lannisters are assholes most of the time, but they are not cutthroats, they are maybe not even royal, but they hold themselves nobly, far more than those who had it all. And perchance, all that garnered gold is nothing but good luck and yet, when it comes to the most trying tasks, here they are, they do not waver from the challenge. Just because it is arduous, just because it became harder, it means only the greater reward if they endure as Lions.

- Talion…- Glorfindel is speechless, and little did any is there to brag that flawed gold is cajoled into silence – I should bend to you, not you to me. – So, it seems. And so, my Lord. If you want to make it up to me. Then do it. It will hurt…with no measure. Yet, if she stays within the Wall’s battlements, she will die out. Her soul is not meant to be in the cage, not in any, but in the elven captivity and back in birdcage of Elves, the one she should have never escaped to learn her purpose. There she is much more significant, and she can make her impact, she may influence and held her reins as her own, without a need to feel the weight of her personal chains of gold and silver. So, my Golden Lord. That is the Pact!

And, as little might be thought, something unexpected blossomed between Man and Elf. In Talion he did distinguish, the same fealty, the same faith, and the very same what is not to be forgotten, the faithfulness to his King. And even if it kills him or curses him, he stays. Someday, it will be no fear. He won’t break the faith. Regardless how it came to be, the Lannister always pays his debts. And promise is promise. All in all, Lannister was the man of Honor. They all are when a chance is given or due. He was no different from Jaime, and yet, a crucial word is promised and kept. There was no more debt to be owed. Due to the oath that they always pay they debts. And as it came about. That is how it was. To one another, there was no knee to bend.

For innumerous nights, Cersei would question herself, where he is. She has to find him and she will, as the High Queen of the Noldor. Of the North Elves.
It did seem that the irony is their life around what is entwined all what they loved. To the end, she never gives up despite the costs. This is where she was. Often mulling how the First and Primordial Shieldmaiden did it?! Eowyn, the uncompromised and unreachable, firstborn and only human Empress of Elves, as she is wife to High KING of the Noldor who just like his Elf Emperor brother, parted with their First Wives, only to set all else in the motion, by returning completely the Mistress that Fingolfin captured and caught for his youngest son, to him, woman they shared, him as her Second Lord. For destiny played cards at the time of meeting Cersei in woods as child and Talion who in fact grasped her and ran away with her. All what was blurred, now it is a clear picture. All pieces are pieced together. Birth Father. Tywin, You stay my father who raised me, save it is my duty to pull my strings and find out you, to uncover finally truth of the one from whose seed I was birthed. Wait, a little longer! I am coming, Dad. I am yours!
*
Back, in a detached chamber, Celebrimbor is receiving an honorable guest. It was the High King of Noldor. Fingolfin. Arranging, in name of his Queen.
For the game she knows how to play and she had from whom to learn, there is always a need for two players who dance it away. She waits in a separate room, and there is one person who is keeping her company. In no way she is meeting him face to face, alone. Except, if it is his Advisor. Varys.
- Would you like to take a walk me? Through Lord’s gardens? It is the 4th Age, and the roses at this year are spectacular. – Where is Sansa Stark?!
Varys smirked, well, well…she plays this game…masterly. And, immortality matched her human beauty for which Elves conquer. She passed her trials.
*
Out of remains, of worlds and realms, built up is the Throne of Game of mutated humanoids.

Chapter 152: Wih no one there to hear…

Chapter Text

What makes us strong? Honor or name and blood? Do all these blood ties and political connections hold any significance when it comes to what is true or real? Even sitting at the same table, you stay Outlander, or there was something that is unseen with the eyes of the mortals. Something that we do not know at the end of all nights. For even one Wolf as the Bolton, doesn’t have any right to judge a Lion. And so his Wolves and any other’s is the image of its Owner. So, is a status and properties, all that matters? It seems so on the surface, and there is no one to convince you otherwise.

Yet, even so, Fingolfin was not shying away from his self-indulgent little nephew. He knows with whom and with what he is dealing with, still, he acted as the Wall he despised. It wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last that one of Feanorian bloodline is measuring his caliber. The reason was that Fingolfin was never to be too powerful against any of brothers and the power mustn’t stay all in the Noldor line. He wasn’t limited, but he also wasn’t the Regent in case of Elf Emperor’s absence, but it was Ingwe, the Vanyar, and High King of all Elves, while Teleri held the seas, theirs was the sky and the lands are synonym for the Noldor. This was how it was arranged and divided. And each side was honored and assuaged. But, there is malevolent force amid.

- I do not threaten to break the faith, King Uncle. I got your kept and caged dove. Why doesn’t she ask me herself? Meet me when she is such a dauntless lioness. Alone, if she wants to see him. – She knows fully well who and what and when, but never why you do the things you do. You took her child away, now you are threatening with her birth father? You are terrorizing her by the blood itself? – First of all, help yourself, I ordered refreshments and…

- Do not change the subject. – Did you tell her, King Uncle? It didn’t seem like she knew? – She found out for herself. If you believe that she is some brainless woman…

- Oh, I never, and please, sit. – Where do you keeping him? You must not hold anything away, not from my Queen. – Ah, yes – Lord of Shadows and the Void sat down and took some elvish wine to drink, just to quell that thirst he feels inside – a woman opens her thighs wide and the next you know, that is the only thing you are repeating. My Queen. – Careful, Celebrimbor. You may sell that sh*t to someone else, not to me. I warn you… - I am intrigued she doesn’t ask for my dove. – She is smart and she is the one who was involved in her abduction, by your wishes, to be brought to you. – Sit down, King Uncle, you are too…too tall! Even Grandsire is not that tall, it must be that the firstborn and trueborn Maedhros has taken after you, not just gaining the birth mother’s flamed hair.
For yes, there were fires in their tresses and Eowyn had to put up with lots of possessiveness among the 7 sons of Feanor. Her only daughter is survivor.

- I am asking myself and stop towering and sit down, oh…thank you…where was I? Ah, yes, yes…if Grandsire’s daughter who happens to be my reverend aunt who is that enshrouded from us and the rest of the elven and any other realms, including your sisters together with your blood brother Finarfin who would carry the same blood red flames in their manes if events would transpire differently, so I wonder, would it be possible it is all tied to Fish? I believe that Feanor’s daughter doesn’t wear red, but gold in her curls. Hm, what do you think?

- You are digressing. – No, really…tell me the truth – there was a moment of lingering.
- It doesn’t mean that everyone is connected to everyone, there is that special color that belongs only to Elves. – We are all linked to one another, attached to live the same destiny, there is no run from it, we are bound to each other and it is bound to happen when all is related together – Fingolfin exhales, this was the matter for some other story, he is rubbing his eyes, before stating the fact. – What do you want me to bestow you with? It will be done, just allow her to… - No. He is mine – the Elf King was dejected.

- Ask him then – well, well, Celebrimbor raises the eyebrow at this. – Since when we ask human tongues for the opinion when it comes to being nothing else than our rightful propriety? – You are asshole. – Tells the same man who was hunting human women and men for his son because he was incapable of doing it himself, but, father’s duty and love for his progeny. And how is your youngest called? – Celebrimbor leans forward.
- I do remember, the Childlike? Is that it?! How is it possible that such a son from such a man is born, anyway? – It is the gossip.

Of course, it is always entertaining to watch and hear how mamas and papas are cleaning after their children. The wine is as untouched as food was too.

- You are not eating or drinking. I would be called a bad Host – he places the crystal glass down. – I am not playing your games. – You can’t poison an Elf. – What is on your mind? – upon the question, Lord of the Rings who took over the mantle is sinister, or simply by other titles, that goes with the Darkness or the Dark, he was the Dark Lord in that peculiar segment of the murkiness. – It is intriguing to watch what love does to us Elves, especially alpha male ones, we play around their fingers, and the last thing we know. Our name is MY and the surname is Queen, or something in between.
- Where is he? Where do you keep him or hold? Your kingdom consists of two realms.

- It is made up of two names, as well. – Every elven foothold comprises of the common and one elvish name, for example, Rivendell or Imladris in elvish, in the Misty Mountains which are encompassing the majority of all territories, including Middle-Earth and Westeros, it is regarded the same for Whispering Woods, and why do you think…they whisper, particularly in Eriador? – inclining toward his improvident nephew.

- Trees are whispering amongst each other, the nature is spirited and every bird is our ally. We speak not only humanoid languages, there are other animal tongues and not to forget, the dead, forgotten or unused speeches as Black Speech. – And still, even though we speak through our minds, our mouths are remaining our traditional tool for conversations.

- Don’t instill in myself any ideas. – Is he up or down? How have you kept him? – Well, in chains, and bound and gagged, reveling in bondage style and you know…how it is – this earned the narrowed eyes which are piercing his. – Your Shadow Guards, as well as Holy Ones and your Imperial, which is private and personal, each host in all directions, is swarming the place. – King Uncle, let me be genuine with you and also, let me propound you something, if you allow? – Teach me – hm, the Lord of Darkness had to grin at the mannerism.

- You are so confident that I will let anyone, the least some human woman, to walk around my realm, to be honored as guest or that I am her respectable Host as a free human being? She is the slave to me, nothing distinctive from all those whor*s you were garnering for your gulag castles. And now you judge me? A…there it is…the sweet regret, the gleam in your eye, which means. The only way before me, or inside the deepest or darkest bowels of my Hallowed Realm, even in my delightful gardens, she stays the slave in all convenient manners or adorned in the golden fetters, and that is what you taught me before you had your change of heart – listening, Fingolfin gulps hard, biting on his tongue, he never did it, not even in front of Feanor. This Elf boy is Beast. He is around 10.000 years old and this one is little above 6.000 or so, younger than all the Olds and still, he played them out.

- What about Olenna, once, the Tyrell Enchantress was present at your intimate court, and she is one of multiple faces of humanity that strived in immortality. The exception to the rule.

- That is Olenna. She never knew her place, you really think that I could go against her? Of course, but I retained her at my arm’s length.
- Because you were frightful of her? The same enlarged powers are passed onto High Princess Marge, who is now the Queen of Dragonstone, she controls the Southeastern Wall, and what about your Princess Sansa? She is here, entombed, inside earthed, even bloodily interred that she, for the residuals of her life, is glossed over only by your damnable Walls – for all this time, both are serene in both stance, conduct or their voices, Fin brought him to the breaking point, all by himself and now suffers effects.

- Do not speak of what is mine, do not mention her. Pretend that she doesn’t exist, do not use her name by your lips, to my face. You do it one more time, and King Uncle, I honestly advise you…you will die and all of your people along with you, even she, everyone whom you brought along. You will be hanged so high, that you are staying there for the rest of your wretched lives. I can tolerate once or twice, but you mention her…ONE BLOODY TIME – the darkness did spread, and shadows began to dance, Fingolfin stayed calm, he perhaps ruffled a bit of the Lord’s feathers, to incite him from his High Seat or Table, anywise, he never expected this – and I will devour your dusky inwards for breakfast. I prefer to eat all fodder that is the custom to digest during the morning, I love at midnight! And send your crusty pate and your pie which is made of your skin to my Grandsire. You forevermore grow such a love for one another. – Is that right? If you are finished – Fin hadn’t even given a blink – and that your delighted performance is over, may she see her father? – Celebrimbor slumps back into his plushy seat, all the evil abandoned the ornamental chamber while Dark Lord took a notice.

- You are a mad man, you know that? Your heart is barely fighting not to escape your ribcage. You own balls. I give it to you. King Uncle – and just like that, Celebrimbor laughed. So devilishly.

High King of Noldor restricted his personal movements. Breathing erratically, being unstable, grasping the rests for the arms, wooden and ironclad, and after a minute and two, he is smoothing down all of his powered senses. He was bracing there and then, to FIGHT ONE RING. Would he lose?
The better question is, he would leave such harm on It, unbridling what is necessary to make the First Crack. Nevertheless, Celebrimbor is smarter than this, to be involved with Grandsire’s half–brother. Mother of Dragons. This Elf boy and One Ring of his. Bloodied you are Feanor. I do not judge, I never lost compass, not even the wink over something I had to sin, yet Celebrimbor, he is something utterly else with whom all has to stride by utter wariness.

- She may see… meet her father for his soul is bound to my willpower, belongs to me, engrain truth into your Queen’s heart – Lord left him alone.
*
Underneath Elf skin, there is a deformity Celebrimbor disguised. Resembling his realms, one that is up in daybreak bathing and another in sins, basking.
*
Backbone of the nerve, wearing the Elf mask, carrying within the secret… and so he spoke, that Lord of Castamere. And rains weep over a Lion’s halls,
…
With No One there to hear…

Chapter 153: Just a human and Elf, not man and Elf, or Elf-man, just human

Chapter Text

It all became blurred. And the merged visions of the Past were fresh from the rawness in his mind. Celebrimbor was sitting in the darkness, his fellow friend, remembering his last talk with the Queen of Thorns. The bright smile crept upon his facial features. He was truly one of the kind, because he resembled more a human, but the transcendence of his rough lines were smoothed out by the power of the bloodline.

She disdained to be called Lady, just by the name, nor she reckoned it as something of importance. Indeed. Those are trivialities you get used to and they start to lose the point once you see that behind My Lord or Lady…the seething fear or flattery are on display. People of higher status, who reached it by birth or life, knew it the best. The closest intimacy and honesty is when you are called by the name or pet name. That was the highest level of endearment.

Recalling when she was holding onto her, so young, upon one of her Ladies in waiting. Not because she is to be sacrificed to Elves, but her. It was her only friend and her father has given upon one each year to save what is left of their decaying Holy Land, for their kingdom only reached the golden era with Olenna, yet before that, it was the outstanding hypocrisy she would repeat to herself, over and over again until terrors of the night didn’t turn out to be something what all them, for an exchange, DREADED IN HER.

It was awakened and the grandest Supreme Matriarch is born in both hatred and chiseled by love. Until the void walls wept all those sacrificed lives to whom or what?! To save their assess. The royal ones. How many women, how many men, how many…eh, how many? I ask you. How many will it be enough? For you? How many? How many?

HOW f*ckING MANY?! I ask you. How many? When it ends? When all goes to Hell? Let it be. Let there be Chaos. I shall bring it to the World and then everyone is going to turn and ask, and what was wrong. What?! I will tell you. EVERYTHING! Olenna was a woman who could stand and eat your sh*t because it is how it fits her, but what she couldn’t suffer is that she couldn’t do anything back then, only watching how those pointed ears are taking away something that she held so dear to her and no more. No more she would bear it.

NO MORE. She vowed to herself. Her Land will be Holy, not just in the name, it will be the Rose of all sanctuaries. Upholding however she could by her strength or forces, and what is in her influence alone.

For she did become the Enchantress and she was it, much longer than she could recollect, but this was different. This was her power that wasn’t depending on the longevity.
This was the Power of Hammer and War, changing her appearance always back to the youthfulness, keeping it that way, but when the Old Age grips, she could only hold it off as long as it was possible. Melisandre knew how it is when you are old and frail. Your truest form is just the flesh, not what is easy on the eye, that is what always derives the soul from the matter, the heart from the energy spirit or the soulless demon from the fiendish morality. And so, what did Olenna did? Simply POISONED her own father. It wasn’t a poison that let you drop and die. She made sure that she watched that man in the eye when he was struggling for breath and it was done, all what she whispered back to the empty shells which were penetrating her eyes sockets were these words. “Now you know how much it hurt me” and she never lost the wink of sleep. Rising to the levels of the Greatest High Queen of the World. Alas.

- King in the North came to pay his tributes and honor you with respects – and there he was, so young and handsome. Back in those days, Lord Ned Stark had something in himself, he always did, but that something came onto the surface when all the flesh revealed his truthful human beauty. It wasn’t so much the looks, except for it was the hold and bearing. How he held himself, how he spoke.

Unfaltering. Unbending. Unbroken. His broad and exalted back and the dignified shoulders of the man’s blades were the fearsome reminder that before her was already the experienced warrior. The knight who owned the right and in his own respect he earned the honor. He was indeed something back there, out of all suitors, admirers and those who pledged themselves to her, he stood out. Eddard Ned Stark, before the life didn’t cut into him from time to time. But even then, when the beauty faded away, waned in the shaded grey, what remained is the Man of his Word, his rightful appearances so. You couldn’t corrupt him. You couldn’t dissuade him from his path. He always knew what is the right road. Without exception and he took it, no matter how much it was hard. His Will is passed on all of his progeny and personified in Jon Snow. There was no concession, there was no compromise, there was not even a single doubt in his actions or deeds. Someone who suffered injustice, became the beacon for the Justice. When they asked him, what it means to be King, his answer was.

- First, be a Man who owns his responsibilities, don’t allow for another do your duty. DO it yourself. It is easy to command, but be the King who fights his own battles and people always follow – and so it was. Without fail, without any or single qualm. And, the strong woman she was. What else was there for her? She fell in love. As little might be thought and you know how it goes…because the strife did fall between them, and once the wee smiles he offered to her, became bittersweet. She hated that about Ned Stark. Very often reprimanding him, why he did fool her? He wasn’t. He had to marry another for the sake of securing the well – being of the North.
She understood, but he left something to her, or rather, someone who would be both her daughter and granddaughter until it was time to reveal the truth. Saw everything in her, she was all to Olenna. And each time she would look at her, there he was in the bastard daughter who naturalized herself by her own rule, not someone else’s. Just like her, for there are only bastards, no word for the bastard daughter except for Lady or Princess.

She hid her from the world, until it came the time to grow visible to the light, in one of the Lone Towers, but Ned Stark…he knew, finding out, you couldn’t hide anything from that man. Unhesitant and unrelenting. Never tires. He just pushes forward. There was no impossible for him. Just a human, and what a King he was. Never the North will be blessed as it was. In the end, North received the new King, the one whom they didn’t deserve, he is acquired. For Ned was an earthly man, and yet he was the one who would pass it through all, like it was nothing but the mere obstacles.

Meeting her, knowing her, endowing and lavishing, spoiling. And Olenna permitted, when Marge came of age, that is when the War came to their WALLS. Ned died for his ideals and Holy Land has become annexed with its autonomy unmarred, to the House of the Dragon. They didn’t become one of their vassals, only the extension of the power which regained its upmost authority through the new High Queen in the image of female Tyrion and the Queen of Dragonstone.

Tyrells were roses, alike Hobbits, they loved to plant and watch it grow, but when it does grow, it is without thorns. She was the first and final Queen of Thorns. Something she never passed down onto the child that was the heaven’s gift and both her daughter and grandchild, both the rawest form of the first love between the beloveds. However, in between that time, there was the one and only, to him the last, meeting with the disreputable Lord of the Rings. The One, renewed!

At his Eregion she was welcomed with the innermost honors as it was befitting such a woman of her posture and the level of Force. She was impressed.

Here and now, a taste and touch of Olenna lingers even long after her death. If Ned Stark was such a paragon, untouchable ideal who influences even outside his grave, beyond realities, can you capture the moment when it was so real when dreams were nothing but extended lives of someone? What is dead is not dead, it alters energy and matter. This is why there was only one and just her whom he feared. Not because she holds greater power, not for she wields lore knowledge, not because she was someone special, except the last one who was immune to the Power of One Ring. Great Lady of Roses.
*
What remains to be seen, is her Marge just the same?!
*
Aman, Blessed realm of Undying lands. Valinor where Valar worship Two twin Trees. Everything is in the symbol of twin, even those Vanyar, distant or close to House of the Dragon, spiritually and by blood, and Houses of Feanor and Fountain, including the human race of the ordinary, connecting all! There are still those who REMEMBER. We take a stand!
*

- I still remember that day when you have been clinging to that girl.

- And I will never forget your smile. Remember, I shall laugh either way, last and the sweetest.

Who was her special friend? Can you refresh your memory, there was Glorfindel and Elrond, one girl was serving them, immortal woman now. It is her.

P.S. You guessed right, Desidera! But, in a different way.

Chapter 154: The Law of Surprise

Chapter Text

You are not our necessary evil.
Glorfindel is.

There are so many times she would say that to him.

He brings to us the balance you are thinning out.

Feeding to the powers which are inconceivable.

Why? What is there in your elven mind that strikes you to commit such atrocities?

Your Grandsire had it, why would you do the same?

Why would you become his second incarnation of Satan?

The real one or the disguised? It was all about the control so.

- You appear as an old hag before me. My Lady…Lady Olenna. No, the Queen, the High one and the Great.

- If I weren’t old, I risk to be stolen by you and led to your bed.

- I won’t mind either way. We love old too. You know what they say, the older is the wine, the woman is more exquisite and you know why? Experience does that to her and once she is owned by the equal, and you know what that alludes and implies, it only is affirmed that she waited for someone who can tame what is untamed.

- This is my armor, dear Celebrimbor and cut that crap. You know why I am here.

- To do what you humans do the best when you are cornered. You threaten by showing your thorns or you surrender the precious, just as your father did, but we have a trouble here.

- I am mindful of the truth that you would never divulge to me where she is. For a long time she is lost to me, I don’t want to wade in there any longer, it is over. Done. What consoles me is that she is somewhere happier, healthier and even haler in both heartiness and vivacity than I will ever be and if there is someone to whom I may thank to that, it is you.

- You are the Mistress of sardonic treats. There are a great number of humans who are right now sold or bought or even bred to us, integrated. I see to it. What do you assume that would happen if the harmony is disarrayed? And all what you could be obsessed over and over is how you were butthurt, even if from the moment of claiming and taking your girlfriend, she knew nothing but grace and good treatment of her being. We are strict, but gentle if you allow to us to be, and something what you could never offer her, and that is not luxury, it is the fulfillment when they are breaking free from human fetters and they may be themselves. Just the way they are. And that is where beauty is hidden. Who knows what other destinies are waiting to them in the hands of those who know what they contain. And it is the answer for both races. We need each other, we are sent purposely as the key to our demises, to complement one another. Your blood for better life. We are, after all, materialistic beings whose sheer beings thrive much better in the exalting conditions. Our spirits are reaching spirituality in the bettered terms. Yes, there are those exceptions, but even their minds are going to rot and there is nothing what they could do to change their opportunities. For every turn they reach, on each door they knock, they are either too much poor, unfortunate or simply are not born under the lucky star. The disposed by you humans, and yours too. You are misleading yourself that you may change or something within your Holy Land, you can’t. And now, you are denying my Eregion the required amount of humanity. Just give us all the poor then. Impoverished. They would prosper better than to risk starvation. You have chances to be more. For both our societies are rotting and decomposing civilizations by the rot and the same decay. Queen.

Every word was a stab right through the heart. He wasn’t Dark Lord for nothing. He won’t hurt you with something what you lie, but only by the truth and it burned. It burns. She took the offered glass to drink, that blood-spattered wine. Sour and adequate, just as she is feeling. Sighs, why are humans doomed with so…less possibilities and look at Elves? There is not even a single one of them who are skinny or underfed.

Or overweight due to access to only heartier food which is of the higher quality fibers made and there is no genetic flaws which are, together with lots of afflictions, taken care of by Elves, even the infertility. What kills them are the decline of their women, born children (stillborn), miscarriages, not able to produce or barely reproduce one. Mighty, tall and stand proud and look at them?

Human blood is all they demand in exchange. It was like this since their conception, the hunger for conquering. It only got much worse and now, life without humanity is like the Fish with no water where to swim, on the dry land left to die.
- For the good in people, the sacrifice and sacrificed and for the decency that is still saving us…would you be able to change your ways. Even those who would, the heed lingers. Silvan are wavering, I know it doesn’t cease your demand for the human lives, but it would be organized, arranged and far more human than this where you separate the whole families, destroying livelihood and just disrupt the living process, Elf Man.

Hm, look at her, and would the lion listen to what one sheep has to say? But she was no everyday sheep of yours. She was the Shepherd. The Warrior Queen beside all those Kings with their anointed Knights and Dames.

Praying they take you, if they fall from the cosmic skies, dead. Never Alive to fall into their elvish hands. The Messengers of Better Resources. As if the life wasn’t hard enough, there are Elves such as he is who would tell you this.

- It is our nature. We can’t best how we are created. Only what is there for us ripe to reap and seize. Yes, Wood Elves…are heretics. If you do mind to call them like that. But, our close kin, not distant one, who are ruled by my brother Legolas. One of Grandsire’s grandchildren too. The Woodland King of the Forest realm. Do you know why it is this way?

- Enlighten me, or even better, teach me – this was why he was intrigued by Fingolfin, he reminded him of her.

- The Children of Forest did come into contact first with Children of Silvan Greenwoods. We call them Wood or Silvan, or by another name, East-Elves. It suits them, sounds rather fitly, isn’t it? Convenient so, since Children’s extinction is owed by us, as the results of the changing of Arda and her limitless sources, the invaluable blood of the Forest Children are salvaged into Wood Elves who took over the same name, bringing to mind who are led by the one they chose themselves, for the regenerated continuity of their breeding subrace or even species, but never low, when something is sub, it is specific and specialized, atop of food chain. Henceforth, it is Sindar (silver or grey ones). Offering them the haven, all what they asked is someone to guide them for they forgot elven primal laws. First Father of Legolas and now him. In Middle – Earth, this blood is related to House of the Dragon in the unexplained connections. But instead of Dragons, they are full of unicorns. Do not be deceived, there are no more fabled creatures than them and their magic is BOUNDLESS. However, the Noldor still triumphed. There were no Great Eagles or flying horses in numbers, the magic was young and constrained, but now, that would be something to behold, my dearest human Queen, High and Great, I toast to you! – she lands a final cut.
- I am not giving you a single tribute any longer. We are becoming sovereign. We are more than capable of preserving ourselves. We go alone as of now. Hollin King. We are independent. We do not depend on your mercy or favor anymore and…

- War. Is that what you desire. For you are opposing the Mountain you can’t win over and you know what happens when the Mountain in the metaphorical sense…peculiarly Lonely or Grey is demolishing all what you built up. – I have come with the proposal.

- Oh…this is something I would love to hear – this did wake him from his darkling self, for a moment – I am all ears, something smart to hear for a change – and here they are, his ears had the mind of their own, even perking a bit, it was tempting for her to touch them and she is aware she will be permitted, but that is when she strides the unsuspecting territory, so she refrains. Hm, the Potency of Elves, moving with the smoothness of gracefulness and by the predatory predations. – By choice… - If there is no sufficient number?

- Let me explain and expound this to you – she breathes out, this proved to be the harshest day of her life, and he waits predatorily. – Orphans. We do not know what to do with all these rising numbers. They are all yours and by the choice of Free Will. – Sealed. I take… - I am not finished – he rolls his eyes, unceremoniously, what is there to finish, a touch?!

- All of the orphans, rich and unlucky, to be treated by the Law of Surprise – and that was that f*cking thorn. – WHAT?! – she literally called out for such an ancient law, under his house, that is originating from primeval times, old world, once it is invoked, there is no turning back! – Under my roof, you dared! THORN BIRD! – You know the story, I impale myself and sing the most beautiful song, while God above has his last laughter. At the end of the time, you really thought you are gaining anything for free?

It was complete. Olenna was one of the rarest persons on this planet who would DARE all the Gods, old, new, of light or dark, demi or full ones, under the same supreme one. Allfather, the Iluvatar of Children, Eru and God of Gods. Her strength of character knew no bounds. Knowing fully well what is the price, but ultimately she bested him with the Last Thorn of hers. The one who laughs the last, laughs the best, for Celebrimbor was too loudest, not even caring when he is checkmated by her, for it insinuated that by the Law of Surprise, any Elf of his may obtain the human child whom they will groom into their purposes only if they save another human life who resists and spare those alike. It is the whole circle then. She lost war, yet won Game.

…in the long run. And that was…spectacular to witness.
*
Even he never risked audacity to venture where no one walks alone. Something much more mightier than even One Ring. Law of Firstborns in First sin.
*
I knew the cost, I paid it anyway, at least this is in which I never lacked. Your elven voice may excel my human one, but I called upon it and paid back.
*
You play a game with the rose? Expect to sting. Owing the blood.

*For even though she wasn’t the most beautiful, she outshone everyone, and above all others, just because somehting is gold, doesn’t mean it will shine brighter than the star who is surrounded by the blackness, star is star because of the dark.

Chapter 155: Raiment of Rainbow

Chapter Text

With every step, by each pace, High Queen Cersei was growing more disturbed than the minute before. Shadows are everywhere, in the walls, in flowers, in the stones. Walking with Varys, both are accompanied by the Holy Knights of Hollin. Prior to anything, she adored to be followed or escorted, it gave her the sense of protection and security, now she could hardly breathe properly. And what a venerated advisor and Master of Whisperers is talking, dejects.

- He clothes her in the finest raiment, she is wearing his official standards and he is feeding her with exceptionally their rich food and cleansed water of Eregion, if I may notice, she grew far more beautiful than ever. – And there is no way to speak with her?

- I may arrange, but… - I never deem that secretly would be possible, but somehow, for everyone to see, how it is viewed a talk? – My Queen – Varys tried to persuade her – even I am not allowed to speak with her or see her for longer than a few glances or some exchanged glimmers of conversations – she isn’t to be dissuaded, continuing her sacred crusade.

- Master Varys, please, you voiced that she grows beautiful each day, is that… - No, it isn’t One Ring, but this odd place is blessing her even more than ever, it is inspiriting and inbreathing new lives. How probable it is that the darkness contains the light as well. Unbelievable – she stumbled, he caught her, Elves would respond promptly but Varys was a surprise to them, for a human, he had pretty quick reflexes, who would know that to be true or he had some other aces up his sleeves of which they were unaware, unknowing, for he wasn’t how he images.

- Thank you…- holding his hands in hers, she slyly made two moves of the sign language, stupefying Varys in the spot. Oh, my. – I would like to visit the Ladies’s room, I will stay longer than I intend to. You know how it is, women and periods.

He winks to her. Why of course. What a shrewd woman. Tywin, you learned her well, more than someone would give her a credit. Showing her a place.

- Wait here – he whispers – she is going to appear from that side of the door – catching his brawnier hand before he left her, looking up at her fair face, not expecting anything but scorn but it wasn’t, it was… - Thank you…for your humanity, Master Varys. I know I didn’t deserve it. I comprehend what this all might entail or ensue…but…still…I am aware it might not even result into something better, yet…I am appreciative of your understanding for my needs – Varys, unsurprisingly, senses how his thin lips are forming a smile he endows her with.
- My Queen, if there were brighter days, it would be different, but who knows why this is for the best – kissing her on the hand, she shivers, never anticipating this level of respect, he leaves and she watches after him in strides, alone as she was in the alien surroundings. He sat with them and he was one of them. While she was the Lioness of Lannisters. Wishing he would come back and for her to speak anon. Didn’t even notice all the beauty around her, nor she could concentrate on anything but on her goal, she was always like this, even when her rooms are serene, in her lives a storm.

And as it did happen, comprehension caught her in the sweeping tides. Sensing her. She would always knew when it was Sansa, enjoying that she lives.

- Sansa – it was spoken in the shortness of breath. What a beauty of the red rose. Her wolvish appearances were unworldly. Emphasizing every fold, every seam and hem of her untouched and beautified person. This was the girl she sold to…she betrayed…together with Tyrion. Looks down, fooling herself that it would be easier after everything that passed under the bridge, but it never is, ever was. It was much harder than she would reckon, gazing up and waiting for the response.

- You came…even if you…are meeting me…You are smart. Nevertheless, it is me, you are here – ah, what a beauty of the incredible woman. That pale gown on her was of tender pink and shy wolf flower, highlighting the blood red curls of the Fish House. It truly refined her existence. Relishing her companionship, valor and strength to forgive, and she could only picture, capture that moment in her thoughts, how delightfully she may sound. In here, she is groomed into the perfection of womanhood in both body and mind, with her heart unsullied and with the soul untarnished by anything except with the taste of the harder life she lived, caged and kept as it was. Yet, Elves idolize all your flaws and want companions, not puppets, they strive for the meaningfulness in the conversations, respecting human ways of speech. Neither them, couldn’t get rid of the traditions of theirs in the same stride.

- Cersei – and the Queen couldn’t keep it in any longer, she broke in tears, taking Sansa, willing or not, into her impatient arms, taking out all what she buried, letting go and casting it aside.

Sansa Stark, at first, had no idea what to think or how to act, but the feelings swept her away too and she gave in. The first person, after the eternity, to be Cersei, and not her mother, however, it was something familiar, someone who smelt of home. Winterfell. Dad, mom, siblings…Jon Snow, Brienne and my Lady…my direwolf. My Godswoods. Imagining herself at the Heart Tree how she is making wishes, taking her dreams and hopes to her sleep.
Thus, the song of Starks had permeated the world, once more. Someplace, far away, the wolves had howled the last of their cries before the Winter ended, but as it always passes, Winter comes back and with her, even Wolves. Therefore, both women just took pleasures into one another, wiping each other’s tears and bluntly snuggling together in, not letting go. It was like in Cersei all worlds were falling apart and she sobbed hysterically into Sansa who distinguished when someone is suffering the earnest breakdown.

Falling on their knees. Sansa was the one who held Cersei close as she was protecting her from every shadow there was. Her weight was laden with guilt. She lost her son, her baby boy. Her home. She won’t lose her girls too. Sansa was always the closest to another daughter she ever had, and she was someone else’s, others she took, watching her grow and all what she could do is betray her and look at her. This baby is the most precious, no wonder the Darkness is enshrouding her in its winter coat. Quieter she has to be now.

- My little dove – the sad violin was imbuing Arda with its bitter sweetness, touching all souls alike, be them wraiths or alive, while the Wolves howled, lone and strong, and Sansa watched with the same childish views at the world, just like she was young and didn’t know anything, trapping her juvenile face between her stronger hands of the fiery lioness, evoking all those emotions which were carved from some other time, in other place, she asks – are you able to forgive me. For all – she hiccups, sobs, struggling in Sansa’s arms, it was smothering her, the lump in her throat was turning larger by any second, soon it would burst - I comprehend how it must be horrible to ask this of you, when you come to remember how it… - Sansa stopped her, clasping the wrists on each side of the Queen Lioness.

- You remember that little dove that pecked on your ornate window? In Valinor? That was true me – the sorrowful and tear-stricken face of Cersei, for a moment, looked so old. As Old as of her father, she gained immortality, but you never can cheat the eyes, mirrors into the seasoned reality of both greater sorrow and equal merriness.

Noticing one tiny anklet around Sansa’s ankle. If this poignant and secret meeting crushed her, this shattered all to oblivion. The same one, on the day of her 13th birday, she gave her the anklet she kept safe for all this time.

Did you send me dove of forgiveness for wronging so evilly against you? It stayed in between both women, because Cersei presumed she threw it away. Kissing Sansa on the mouth, such was deepness she couldn’t express but in any other way, but the one she knew the best.

Didn’t use any of the tongue, it was chaste and felt innocent, virtuous as Princess Sansa. Lady Stark. In commonness and in highness, she was their Little Princess.
The same one who took her up, raising her from murkiness. Embraced they were around fond waistlines and equally loved each other. This is what both needed. This is what Sansa dreamed. As little might be thought, God granted a great sum which has been in her prayers delivering to Winterfell, the House and Home. The love grows by each second. Nuzzling into one another, while still observing and watching, not from the distance, it was within reach. Feeling they are in the North. Their evocative eyes remained locked in love. All differences are put aside, and misunderstandings soldered, what was unbreakable. The Lioness and Wolf Lady. Let Wolves howl in the dead of Spring.
*
No one anymore heard that someone sounds alike the broken violin, for the love grew amidst, and the household in which I lean myself on you is a gift.

Chapter 156: Sacrament of the maiden realm

Chapter Text

Sansa’s hair grew back when she was brought to her Dark Elf and there was no problem that she was taken by a man, it was important that it wasn’t the Elf. What might seem as only a weakness, becomes advantage and weak points are your hidden blessings in disguise, strengths for which the strongest did fall. What could you possibly want more than a beautiful woman whose tresses are of diadems, for her beauty shines from the inside onto a full life.

- You came for the selfish reasons, but ended doing the right ones – coloring the snow with blood, this is what those words did to Cersei, remembering how her mother in spite of the pain and the bleeding that was flowing in streams and painting her white dress in the bloodied macabre dance, she found her strength to tuck her daughter to sleep.

The next day, she died wide open, giving birth to her brother Tyrion and this is when the bond of no blood or family, but of the love brought her power to the ascendance and Sansa held her while in that inner realm, she confronts none other than her brother, in his real form, not that of the ladylike frame, no more the girlish child, but the full-blooded and bred that refreshed her memory of herself.

The extraordinary divinations and images of fantastical visions of the swirling sights in which the inter galactic wars were fought. And there was always one symbol among all others that distinguishes itself out of the masses.

Those were the angel wings and the eggs of the angelic origins, with its demonic stems, the goodness in the black, and the dark in the good. The shadows of apparitions which were cosmically humongous, overtaking all the worlds with its winged embraces and the voice of God that is screeching at the Hordes of Night Kings and Lords alike, in the swooping clashes of Titans and Gods of all possible sources, of the fountains which are primordial as well as they are elementary, such were the godlike surges of the neon fluxes.

The insights in both the Past and Present which are not linear, they are cycling, cyclical and they circulate throughout the possible realities, multiverses and other lives in the dying dimensions, where the early universe is the birth of the young galaxies all at once, the cores of something that once stood there and now gives its beauty of creation that it passes onto to another. In the middle she saw brothers and sisters, all people’s lives will be included, even after the death, life never ceases to surprise.

Indeed. Cersei was back from Tyrion’s mind, into the internal void where the imagination doesn’t end, but where it starts, and he introduced her to all probabilities.
- You know, sister, have you ever noticed how we…of flesh and blood are even with all those hocus – pocus intents, bent on the wrong wishes? – Tyrion…I am… - he raises a hand in the symbolic way to let him speak, for her to listen to him this time. – Save that for what awaits. We are all links to the one and the one is bonded to us all – he let out a heavy sigh before facing the same fair face that was just as his, fairest in the blazing sundown and her prominent characteristics, the typically distinguished qualities surfaced and here she was, how she should have always had to be if not for the Games which destroyed all what could be Cersei, to represent the light in the darkness that wasn’t restricted by its own burdens of the unfair life. The tenderness this time is combined along with her regained humanity and it wouldn’t be possible without the loss of her child, of the precious life that meant to her when it didn’t to no one. Not a person, and not to nobody, but to somebody, for everyone is someone until they do not choose what others did instead.

- We came far. – Tyrion, you may show me yourself, your another face. – Which is the same as yours. And so we spoke. As Lords of Castamere, and all those rains they really weep over our halls and there is not a soul who can hear us, because the coat of gold or red, does it matter? Our claws are sharp and long. When it did come to this, who would know that this would be along all other things, our tomb song…indeed. – I never intended to come to this.

- And who do you suppose is the worst of all? Who do you guess is the most vicious of all species? I will tell you the truth. No one and all. Because there is something that bonds us all together. We all matter. And that is simply…Our Will. Trust me, there is nothing else. Look at you, for example, just like I say for Jaime…he doesn’t see…the king in himself, the one I see in him, and you don’t see a fine woman, yet, you were happy to reduce yourself…to lower…to exactly…what?! – You are unjust to me – her bitter tears did sting.

- My mother never gave birth to you. – She raised me, I was already on the verge of my young adulthood. She still treated me as her baby. I am more Lannister than you would ever be. I needed her and you took her from me, over and over again. Tyrion Lannister. How many lives do you plan to live as the Dwarf that takes mothers from their daughters? The same you did to me.

- And what else is there? – The things you did…here and then…you hurt me. You harmed me. I do not forget.

- And it did make you into one of the deadliest women in the universe.

- All I wanted is the sword and shield and yet, I am back to what I was. Nowhere.
- Yes…all ladies with their skirts and blades, storming out into righteous Hells that is dedicated to men. Please, Cersei. Have you ever looked at it this way, that you were the mightiest in the role of the woman, than you would ever be as a man. For what is a man?! We are replaceable instruments of God’s Will. But a woman, well, have you ever took notice that, perhaps, the man is the King, holds the lands, coronation and all is in his hands, but the Queen is the one who kept reins and everyone follows the Queen, what she will do or say. When a woman appears at the ballroom, no one turns for a man, but for a woman. Regardless of her situation, status or stance. Hideous or beautiful, all eyes rest on the woman’s world. I believe…if you invested more into what you already have, over what you own the hold, and in dignity lived it through, my dearest…no, dear…you are the only sister I ever had…and where was I? – And in dignity lived it through…

- You would taste the nectars of all your true potencies and it is that so. And you are bristling with such potentials, you are not even aware, you are thick with it, and all you could do with your budding is despair.

- I can’t conceive. That is my penalty. My Fingolfin loves me nonetheless.

- You see, and there are still daughters…yes…your daughters you should keep from harm. You were the strongest when you are down. Sansa knows all. Never underestimate that little dove of yours. She learned from the best as you are. She understands it better than you, aware of everything. Even of your family. The more suitable question is…do you comprehend her? She perceived you evenly, but your mind was clouded. Thank her for loving you in the way you know. She gave you a second chance. After all. Show her who you aren’t, but what you might be if you were the woman of your HONOR! – never before someone has spoken such uplifting and inspiring words as he did to her. It was about time to shine out.

Take all what the life offers and give it in exchange for ailing ills, for all is interlaced and the imperfection is embellishing the reason why beauty is Fair.

- Cersei, is everything all right? – it was Sansa’s lady voice and in her is evoked something what she couldn’t describe, there were no words. The High Queen took Sansa to hold her in the tight arms of the lioness, protective and possessive. For instead of the King, there will be the Queen, as gorgeous as the seminal Dawn and if she has to feel as treacherous of all Seven seas, for neither one foundation of Arda will stand in her way to protect, for everything is lost to the naught and the life stalls to be born, there is no value, not even the rock, only then and now, the brightest star is awoken to entrust what she said to Sansa.
- Live. Endure. I give you a word. No agony and no harm will ever come to us. – What are you going to do?! – Me? I am going to rise the army. – What…how…what?! – No, not of Fingolfin, of my own. And it won’t be the Host of Men, it will be the Warrior Legions of AMAZONS AND GORGONS. Hordes of Women. From all around, from Valinor to Middle – Earth, be they humanoids or with four paws. I have enough of gold. Sansa. I saved it and now…it is time to put it to good use. – And you will do it when?! I mean…

- That time is coming and this time, I have in mind to WIN. Patience. Learn yourself of forbearance. It serves you more when the anguish ends. For no pain, there is no gain. – What about…your Elf husband? – Sansa listened and drink it all. – Together, wait and see – kissed she did her little dove’s forehead, the bird that meant the world to her at this moment and from this day forth, as it always should be. – You are just a woman, human, Cersei – and this made Cersei not dejected, it made her smile. – You forget that I am my father’s daughter. It is up to me.

And Sansa’s heart grows unimaginably, this is going to give her strength where she couldn’t find it, this is making her survive, to hold out, to suffer it through everything that is before her. Meanwhile, High King of all the Noldor, Fingolfin was in the search of his wife, where the hell did she fade away? He leaves her just for a second alone, and where was she?! Oh, he learned that she is in the ladies’s room.

Hm, maybe he should take care of his necessities too, not fertilizing the barren ground as he is practicing. Well, what you take from the earth, you should return it, and his logic and reasoning were one of the kind, and he can do it in there too, there is no shame before his Queen. Hm, Celebrimbor was right. All is about her. And despite protests from the guarding Elves, he did grasp the doorknob, only to, upon entering, get breathless. What the?! Cersei and Sansa looked back. Leaving Sansa in amazement. What a man! Fingolfin was much taller than any typical Elf of their kind.

Even though Glorfindel was robust, slim in the belt, this man was as tall as Maedhros, although his nephew outclassed him, he doesn’t withhold but retains the atmospheric feeling of ethereality.

Those feels when he is evaluated by how he walks, moves, bore self or talks, or sounds and Noldor Helm of decorative symbols are his crown while the sweeping cape is bejeweling the rest of the armored body by the image of kingly presence.

The Sire, Lover and Lord. Closing rapidly an ironwood door behind him, latching it firmly into its place, he turns back to face the two prodigal ladies.
For Sansa would never guess that this is one of Elf Emperor’s brothers. It brings a smile to his elven features, for it appeared to him that his Queen and here it is again, so far is claiming another spoil.

Ned Stark’s daughter, like Catelyn had nothing to do with her birth. Patriarchy. Nevertheless. This one wasn’t for taking, but it won’t hurt to meet Sansa Stark in person. After all.
*
Beloveds lulled to dream and Forces of War, for the collective memory is engrained in blood.

Chapter 157: Swelling and ardent Pride

Chapter Text

Thinking of Jaime, the man who once was hers, and the family, of the boy kings, childlike queens and child ladies. Through the mind of Cersei, all was flowing out and in when Fingolfin entered. The way he was evaluating Sansa, told her more than she would like to admit. It is in every Elf, not the attraction to her, but the power he has over anybody whom he deems weaker. And she was the spoil in his eyes, the one that is much more delightful because he cannot have her as he does have her. He loved all in his Queen, but spoil or two for his kingdom, generals and admirals, for the Host of legions or other details, you never know, just because she was the daughter of the people, her life was the terror and sin. No, she won’t allow it even if he is her spouse. Never more.

- What do we have here?! A baby girl?! – he eyes Cersei, astounded that she in fact caught her. – We are not taking her with us – just one claim and it dispelled his schemes. All what could Sansa do is to sigh out of reprieve, gripping Cersei’s hand who answers the same.

- What could Celebrimbor do anyway? I have enough of power and forces to… - No. What is enough is enough. Her brother is coming to get her, for her, they all are sacrificing everything and if she goes to Valinor... You really believe that will stop Jon Snow?! He will pass Sundering Seas and get on the other side, bringing the War to your shores and whose fault that would be? Fingolfin? – It is Lord Fingolfin, your Lord, and you take us for some fools or weaklings? Whatever he has got for us, Valinor never fell, but it did all around who dared. Just remember Numenor, Cersei, and we are leaving as fast as… – he reached for Sansa who flinches only for Cersei to slap his hand away, leaving speechless the little girl who saw how the Lioness fights the King.

- NO! No to the Elf Emperor. – He would be eager to meet Ned’s daughter and of course, Catelyn’s too, besides, he would never refuse the temptation of such blessings – the Lioness’s eyes had formed the unusual glaze in her gaze. – Your Queen has spoken, Fingolfin, and if you…- shows high the little scar of the slit throat that remains to linger to him, the sign of the traditional immortalization, something what Sansa took notice of immediately – dare, let me remind you, that all what awaits are Rains. You never know what I may do.

- Hm, you are quite amusing when the plan of yours doesn’t go according to your contriving. – Have some mercy upon this girl!

This in truth, halted his moves. Cersei was the Wall and he had other things which wouldn’t leave him alone, like bowel movements. Must do it in here!
- All right, then. Let it be your way and I apologize – he nods at the frightened Wolf Lady, the Little Princess – for the inconvenience, you were lucky that my wife was with you – listening to him, Sansa had the urge to vomit, they are all the same, in death and in life. They fear nothing at all when it comes to the control and conquering. All what they see or all what they could think of is the extensions of their powers, that was the sickness of all biblical proportions.

- Leave, My Lord, I warn you, this is for the best…and – the High Queen hisses at her High Lord who still has to earn the greatness on his own – we will speak all the more when I say my farewells, then, let her go. You do understand. – Of course, however, let me through, I need to excrete myself. – Don’t use that sound of the voice and what are you opining?! In front of her?!

- No, you just turn around and bear with it. I have to fertilize a bit. Move! And keep your watch! – Cersei couldn’t hide her shock, he just went around them, dropped his pants and sat on one of the sterilized latrines, and goddamn, that man knew how to poop. Sansa was tomato red. And never again she is going to retrieve her natural color of the skin, while Cersei had the necessity to dig her own grave and just cover the lid. This was out of all aggravating ceremonies he is putting her through, on purpose! – Fingolfin!

- What?! I am sh*tting myself – he farted two or three times, informing her – this will take some time. You know that even the Kings go alone to the only place they deem as themselves. – You f*cking Elf and… - she can’t turn and all what she can is hold Sansa’s hand, as if she was scared that the maniacal Elf will steal her away, even with his pants down, you may never know. It would be easier if she were jealous, but she was damn cowering because of Sansa’s welfare. – Are you finished? – through clenched fangs she hisses out.

- Not yet! And it is so sorrowful, you know, if I did that in the nature, I could fertilize the whole forests! – he makes a face, pushing a little more, this sh*t is huge, the log just doesn’t want to come out, well, just like his pride down there, nevertheless. – Fingolfin! – Unless you do not shut up, I am using your slender fingers to put it in there and pull it out! Ah…it seems my hemorrhoids are back! – Find some Elf to shove them back in! – Dammit! Wait, I am done – he checks the dirty hole. – Is there the blood, again? – she was prompted to ask unwillingly, and Sansa was on the verge to burst into the laughter. – Yes, unfortunately. – Cut your sweets, darling, cut them. – I will have to for some time. Constipation is killing me! And logs are hard as marbles to sh*t out! – I am glad we are having such a deep conversation about this all, in front of the ear witness. – May you pass me the toilet towel, please?! – Here – after it, Sansa hears that he is doing something.
- What is he…? – He is wetting the paper towels, they are too rough for his buttocks and he loves when it is wet for wiping with the lighter material and the blood lining – is she speaking about wiping a butt or sex, or it is one and the same or both? – How long do we have to stay turned around?! – Low, low…speak lower. – Sorry, I hold my breath above the whisper. And I never…

- There is so much for you to learn and know, and trust me, Sansa, you know nothing. This, this is Monday, you should taste the Tuesday with him. Each Monday he is full of these veins which are bulging out of his backside and then, there are horrors to put them back, sometimes…even I have to apply the healing creams and he does it all over again, because he loves sweets that he can’t refrain for one year not to eat them, he doesn’t have measure neither how to hold back! – You push it… - Yes, I do. Better I, than some handmaiden who is not Elf at all, for all of them are maids of honor, rarely you will see elven woman who serves, that is why humans are used. Unfortunately or fortunately, it depends on how you look at it – the flushing is heard, he is taking care of all, it seems, by using the pitchers and extra bowls, and then, when he is lastly with his pants on, there remain the hands. – You are complete?! It reeks! – You shouldn’t breathe then and stop making faces, I know you do. – You applied the remedy by yourself?

- I succeeded without your intervention, I wouldn’t like to horrify, dear little Princess all over again or moreover, I am a good Elf. – That is good to hear and now, what are you doing?! – Washing my hands in the water basins.

- Good – she turns to eye him, Sansa too, still redder than tomato – you need the cloth towel? – If you would be so kind – he even washes his elvish face, the most human routine which are undertaken by every living and sentient being that breathes, but when he does it, still appears out of ordinary, heaving his head up for a dash to observe a baby girl whilst droplets of spring water are running down his manliness. – You are adorable. You know that? Queens’s little dove, she is never so fiery with anything when it comes by, but with you…– a gentle towel is handed over for him to wipe both hands and face.

To him, it was amusing nonetheless and furthering the belief that she could claim her, but his Queen is the adamant Lady, and if he goes against her wishes, it would earn him some ‘’rains’’ of hers…hm, it was almost tempting, just to see with what she could come up with. So lovely, he adored when Cersei is sad*stic. Even offered to her to show him, on himself if it must be, but she refuses, denying him because she has changed or so she claims. And here she was, helping him dry his clean hands.
After all the ministrations, he was ready to leave with the Queen, let others surmise whatever they like, whiles he goes and offers both a kiss on the hand, forehead and a smile that crept unto Sansa, brightening her day. Cersei winked, watching their backs.
*
It came time for a small dove to return to her cage of black gold. Blessed Waters of Life are invoked inly.

Chapter 158: God and I

Chapter Text

It felt beautiful. Sansa would forever carve it into her memory, the lioness’s back who shielded her. Who right now found herself with the Elf husband in the secured corner with no one to bother them.

He cups the chin and makes her look at him before he kisses her, at first with serenity, until the serene sentiment of sensuality isn’t permeating all of her being, akin to the maiden water of the fluid mirror she looked into when she went at Witch – Queen, Galadriel.

It was all what she ever wanted, and yet, it was the bittersweet taste when she just remembers the man she left behind, who is suffering.

This is why she had to repent, sliding her arms around the waistband of her spouse, while he did the same, engulfing her fully. Catching their breaths, spoke.

- Why does Celebrimbor is similar to the human looks and Jon is hiding his ethereal ones?

- Have you seen him?

- He is showing when he wants to, so, only in the flashes and vague flares.

- He wasn’t always like this. No one remembers correctly, but he was just a fine looking fair visage of the elven boy, but then, the darkness attracted him and he took the semblance of something he hates the most. Yes. Celebrimbor, hates humanity, never be cheated by him. It is the dependence on you, that drew him mad. You see, the bloodline of Feanorian is the Dragon blood, which means…

- Prone to madness.

- Now, you realize…that even my children of the first wife may fall to the same, because even our Grand and Old Father whom we share together, Finwe, has some connections to the same, the most direct was his wife. He was the firstborn Elf who lost his life to Morgoth and this is where it all began, until the two Shadows aren’t merged into the Bringer of Gifts, into the Lord that is now quelled, but Feanor was always the Devil Incarnate, someone who is compared to Morgoth, the First Shadow, who nearly did it as the Vampire, sapped everything from his mother, and only through Finwe she lived, which depleted him, leading to his Fall – she is spellbound by her Elf Lord’s speech, such manliness lives in him, complements woman in herself.

- Nevertheless, he gave everything for the family and so was Feanor, into him all the mightiness of body and mind, the acumen was honed to the brim, until he wasn’t broken by a mere human woman. Eowyn. From the fall, came his ascending and the Shadow of Satan, the Great Serpent for this is how even Dragons are renamed, the ones who tempt under the twin trees of all knowledge and immortality, is embodied through next. This is how the Evil survives. But there comes the balance, the Defender in the image we know as Jon Snow. There is always the harmony between doom and light. Always. We might not see it, and we shouldn’t. Ned Stark drank our elven waters still, absorbed from Feanor what he gave him and ate all the knowledge. How do you think it responded to the human self? Ned Stark’s willpower is something of…I can’t even describe. Not even one Elf wouldn’t dare to hold such a sight, and he did. He was the most extraordinary human King and there will never be the one alike, never in his likeness as Ned Stark, as the Avatar, the human one of humanly Eru, not even his trueborn sons won’t surpass the one, who enthralls with mundane presence and was breathtaking everyone else and elsewhere. Preserves until the end of days.

- Will they come?!

- Yes, it is baptized Dagor Dagorath, the Last Battle.

- Is it happening, at this moment? Do we live in the last days?!

- Yes. The Promised is here and it is up to Jon Snow and his Pack, the fellowship as you mentioned, to bring back the equilibrium to our lives – he grips his hold around her supple build.

- Is that…possible?! He is just a boy…the little clumsy boy I knew – she lays her hand on her husband’s muscled and black armored chest, looking up in his blackness of the profound irises – how can it be?!

- It is always the unassumed, even now, he never gives up. All odds are against him. And the world doesn’t even see him, all they see is what you see. The Boy King who knew nothing. Maybe, it was for the best, this is why he can’t know, if he knew, he would never be able to come this far and let me tell you something. I would never take Sansa for real to Valinor. I just had the notion to tantalize you much, to draw out that feistiness from you – confessing, she is shocked.

- How could you?! I really thought that… - Listen, I would expand and conquer, I may have differences with my brothers, but family is family and Sansa…is family. After all, she is my grand nephew’s sister, I hint at Jon Snow. – Why did you do that to me?!

- Why?! Because you were begging for it – he enshrouds her far more when he draws her into him, touching and tasting – you are a lioness and you must hunt. I gave you the hunt. Now, you know your purpose, don’t you?! Resolve you promised. You gave your word and I will support you. – she snorts at him. – You fool. I very much see why Jon is an idiot! You are the same blood. – Why thank you. And…regarding your first husband…Jaime…before I had no right, but I want to do something for your remaining child and…- No, we must not interfere. Jaime gave the oath. If you do intervene, and bring help in the form of medicine or any of your Host…the Wheel of Thrones and Time won’t like it.

- I yearn to ease…- By stealing his wife? – You came willing. – So I see what came to pass. How Feanor fell into the enchantment, under the thrall of Eowyn. It was love, right? – Fingolfin winces slightly and somewhat he was uncomfortable. – Elves are fools, each one of us. Only the prime examples are idiots and beyond saving. I want to aid as man to man. – And you know what he would reply to you? Hm? To his rival who stole his mate from him? – You had your free will…you… - You know what lion does to the stags as you? – she nears and whispers into the pointy ear, tickling him, teasing, he snigg*rs. – Stop it. – He devours.

Not ever underestimate Lannisters. This is what she relegated it to him. Forwarded. Never to be taken lightly. Yes, Lions and their Prides. Unstoppable!

- Then, I have to notify you of another lion – this made her eyes open wide. – You…you… - I won this battle for you. Go and see him while following my instructions in regard to Shadows, what to do or how to act, by all means, you are going to meet him – he kisses both her hands and she got emotional. – Fin…thank you for all, verily even for your offer. I don’t want you to consider me as somebody who is selfish, only selfishness, it is just a part of my virtues – he sneers and she let out a laughter, healthy and hale, hugging him back, drawing into herself, that power of the Elf – man, just as were all the hybrids of both races. – I will never forget you this. Never…it means the entire world and I can’t believe it- Fingolfin leans to whisper. – North remembers.

Symbolic, for he was the Elf Northerner as well. Hm, who would ever think so. Their noses are brushing against each other and she was ready as Talion.

- You will say all what you regard to her and… - Now, you are going to control what I am going to…speak and do with my daughter?! I waited for this, for so long…I knew she would come and… - his half face was gripped by Celebrimbor’s one hand, stifling his speech. – Mmmm…
- You do get it. Exactly that. Do not resist. You gave your VOW to me! I have bound you to my soul. I do not drawl when I am speaking this, for I shall forevermore and even then, possess you. Lannister. Keep that in mind. For you see, I had in mind even to present you as my ultimate slave, at my feet, at the foot of my Dark Throne, but I thought against it. For you! You are my Kingsguard! Would you be able to stab me in the back?! Could you?! Answer! – Talion’s eyes waver and he yields with the yielding glow in his eyes, Celebrimbor loosened the grip.

- My Lord. I would never walk that path. I stay with you. You are my family. I just desire my ties to the world I left behind. – Not all of it. – Celebrimbor, please… you idiot. – Stop being intimate with me whenever you are slipping! – What about Dandelion?! – Dandelion?! – He is lost to Witcher as friend. - I symbolically named him that way, his true name was always Jaskier. He reminded me of you. Witcher bought him from me, freeing him so. This is why I tell you, it won’t occur to you. I am crushing your little hopes of freedom. – I am free. I vowed to you. With you. Just do not hurt anybody else who bears any of a resemblance in any way with my HOUSE! And my House is you! As well as Lannisters. Celebrimbor!

Dark Lord backed away. Blood – soaking Lannisters. This was his surprise, by somebody wishes to see you. Both Cersei and him, as well as Fingolfin are conscious of what he has done to Jaime, to the family, to children, and Talion forgave. This is what they couldn’t apprehend about him. Yet, Talion knows what they don’t and it isn’t the excuse that One Ring is overpowering, but the sense that the broken people break others. There is no punishment or reward for Elves, no retribution for Celebrimbor in this case, for he is punished by falling. All what he does is what Talion does. Gatekeeping. And no matter what, he is the Lion who keeps his last stand, to the end, never leaving, but joining in, so that Celebrimbor never stays alone in the lone shade.

… where shadows lie with the greater game than that of the Thrones.
The Present time of Eru’s children, The children of Illuvatar,
and Gods of all sorts, and above is one of all.

Chapter 159: Speak lowly

Chapter Text

From the shadows you are trying to touch the angel’s feather, but it is sliding away. It is harked that the Omnipotent of Shell God grew its wings back whenever they are chopped off. For the Maiar who are single Maia are serving the Demi Gods, and one of them who is in their service was Gandalf, who offered the service to the New Gods as well, to assuage their wrathful nature and together who knows what will give rise to the perfection of Life.

- Men, even when they know they are manipulated, they enjoy dominating – she was repeating her mother’s words, while passing through incessant passages of marble corridors, everywhere were winged mosaics, liquid murals or the twist of images, and the walls were alive, this is what she could tell, in every pore, lived the unborn or the alive apparition that was hungrily yearning to get out, to be embodied by its Lord. It was and it felt both sublime and macabre.

Yet, the Shadow Elf Guards never wavered. This is why they were Elves of Dark Lord who could everywhere they wanted to walk whiles their brothers and sisters of Imperial Guards or Holy Knights and Dames were positioned for other purposes, because this is how the fate is serving its delivery. The more she was learning about elven culture, the more she was evidently very thoughtful of the decline of their women in every way possible, and the human labor and the demand for it was increasing, there were less and less those who would serve the toil because there was no one else, they needed warriors, artificers and someone to tend them to. So, the rise for the human life and for their roles which would be doled out for each House or the tribe, was the constant battle in between themselves.

It was wise from her that she listened to her Elf spouse, not because she is certainly submissive to him, for that is where is laying the key to the successful integration in the sacrament of Elvish civilization, but because he knew Celebrimbor, he is Elf and held the great and detailed, much deep knowledge of what might transpire, she will be tested so that she may earn her right to actually be with her father in person and was ready.

The moment of the vision was clouding her mind, it was out of space and someone was reaching for her. Out of Endless times, all was coming together!

- Why aren’t we there yet? – she asks, but there was no answer and it is pressuring her, she feels that pressure. On and on they were walking and she was getting weary, in both body, mind and soul. To spend her time wisely, she would study the sculptures of demonic and angelic features which were carved into the walls. No, not a single marbled sculpt or the sculpted and chiseled statue wasn’t on its own, all had its place in walls.

Another brick in the wall whilst the passing of time and space was ceasing to be for what it isn’t. She will hold out, but the more she was using her mantra, the more she was unsure why she still lives? Why is she alive? Did she deserve it? Did she pass her own Gomorrah and Sodom, so that she will grasp the fact and realize the only truth that was before her. This will never end, she may hope and hope. So, that was it, she has to go into subspace as soon as possible. Eyeing up the Elves, from the tips of their grey boots to the full armor of the high Helms with the swaying feathered plumes which were the symbol of their might and the long waving capes which were folding around their tight calves with each step they did make. She tries it anew!

- Pardon me, Sir… - and as in the visionary tale that had no end, she saw for what Elves were really, they all are…wingless Angels in the disguise and it was the spiritual moment for her. So tall and endlessly tempting to fall. Each of them was the piece of Art, the masterwork that was doomed to fall to its own desire.

- Yes, My Lady?

- For how long? – instead of the retort, any response, there lives a mild smile upon the owner’s lips. – As long as you need it to be. – What is that supposed to mean?! – You are not prepared.

- It is a lie, your scheme.

- No, you see all what surrounds you.

- I am more than aware and it is…immensely magnificent, the majesty of this place is something of any realm of Elf that I have ever had a chance to experience in Valinor and believe when I say, the charm is there for Middle – Earth, wild and untamed, but Valinor is something else, it is why all the depictions of Twin Trees, of your birthland and that of the Ainur where you live with them in peace is something that rarely any human may taste or ponder about. On the other hand, to me, it was what I craved for the most, to live in the mysteries, and yet, in spite of all, this one chamber is changing all what I could ever deny – after finishing, there was no appreciation, but warm smiles and the Elf answered.

- Lady, we never even made a single footstep. All is your head and the distance from one door to another is about three meters and that is all – about she was to faint. What the…what?! She is walking, she feels the weariness, and her sweat, beating heart, it is the falsehood. Uncalled for!

- You are deceiving.
- No, look into my eyes, and know, human lady of ours, you have never even stepped over our threshold. What you see is not just in your mind, all in the head that is your pretense, save the limit you never sorted out. It isn’t freedom, you gave it to us, to one of our kin, you surrendered yourself, but there are those thoughts which you must leave behind. They linger and even my voice of ethereally call is just the figment of imagination. Your Fantasy. For our Lord does trick people, but never their hearts. That is the power of One Ring. So, was there someone with whom you should speak and into your subconscious self, you should reach out for that person?

No, there was, she was sufficiently bewildered. No, there isn’t and then, the outlined portrayal were tugging the leash around her neck, she looks the other side and there she was, as lost as she is. Catelyn Stark was uncertain where she was or who invoked her. She was sleeping and the next thing she knew, she was teleported through dreams. Was this real?! Turning around, she spotted no other than Cersei Lannister. Ah, now the High Queen gained the understanding. It wasn’t Sansa from whom she should ask forgiveness and without even any warning or the time to explain.

The Fish woman scurried and grabbed Cersei with both bare hands and pulled her hair out. The Lioness couldn’t defend herself, the rage of the mother was stronger and she was brought to her knees, Cersei screamed, and the more she fought, the more Catelyn was intent on butchering her eternal beauty. Pressing and punching. The Lioness held no hope against the mother who becomes the Wolf. In both image and vilified intentions. Strangling her during the courses.

- You...you took my daughter, you betrayed her as a rag! I hold nothing but admiration for you, but you nearly destroyed my house, extinguished my household, set aflame my home, and the sacrifice in blood was laid. MY HUSBAND! You bloodsucking witch from Seven Hells, you deserve to die, not the immortal life! I will end you! – with each word, Cersei is losing the war, Catelyn proved her point, this was the woman who will kill you with bare hands and the ones she slew, it is the vengeance of the Lady Stoneheart.

- Please, Queen Dowager, the Lady of the North…please… - she chokes out the words, being suffocated to the death, her fingers are clasping hers. – What did I do to you?! Huh?! What, Cersei?! What have I done?! – Catelyn…

- I broke my promise a long time ago, I made amends, but you…you are whor* OF THE ELVEN KIND! Do you lick their buts now?! Huh!? You indiscriminating fool!

- You hate Elves?
- Who doesn’t…

- And yet…one of them is your son, isn’t he? – hearing these words, she let go of Cersei who was fighting for each ounce of her blood to return to her brain. Holding her composure, nearly died, clutching around her gentle neckline, the craters and dents were hollowed out into her, Catelyn delved deeper, and darker than any!

Catelyn was the admirable woman, better than her in any sense. No wonder that her twin brother, real or not, it is the same blood of partner of the kin who found his inner sanctum, the venerated temple which has etched her bosom, into and within, he saw a mother he had lost to another brother, just as she was, on the brink to become a woman and she committed the greatest evil against the mother whose daughter was stolen from her womb or the hug.

- Forgive me. Cate…I was…I am…forgive me – and the red beauty hated when someone uses her children to their advantage. Jon Snow was one of them – save in another life, you couldn’t keep the promise, now you did, and you were along with your dynasty and all else, spared. Hm, it is funny how love and the promise of it, may seem something what they are, the fertile soil in where blossoms either wither or bloom into Chastity.

Somebody could tell that it was Celebrimbor and he was but never without reason. Sons did die because Cersei sold her humanity and other’s daughter.

- What goes around, comes around. You lived in the false tranquility, and when it hit you, now you know – Catelyn upon saying it, felt regret. Both were mothers, it wasn’t for her to judge another. – Forgive me. The broken breaks, but I am just so…so…enraged.

- You have a right to be, it is your birthright and – Cersei pulled herself up with steady breaths, looking into Catelyn

- I give you my word. She will be back to your arms, wait a little longer. You waited for so long, you will meet that day. She is alive, mine is never coming back and…I am shameless for beseeching you to tend to my daughter. She is all alone – in Catelyn, a stoneheart did move and broke.

- She is in good hands, my daughter too.

As of now, Cersei’s little princess was nothing less than another daughter to Catelyn she would nourish, value and nurture, mother her into the fullest of adulthood, and there she was. Alone.
Guards vanished and so was Catelyn woken up, instantly, she has hewn the bond with the House Lannister and took Myrcella, the baby girl, the mini Cersei for that is how they looked alike, akin to mirrored live pictures, under her mother’s breast, the wing and protection. The golden Princess of Lannisters was most rejoiced to lean her being into the emptiness that was filled again and Cersei is confronted with all her demons. She enters, the doors closed by itself with a slight thud. Turning to her, was Talion Lannister. The Bastard and her father. Cersei breaks.
- Daddy…
*
Elves hold to their traditions just as humans do, even if there are other ways, they could keep humans brainless, tongueless or charmed, yet, they wished

…for their spirits full and meaningful lives.

*Then, all the more and thereafter, comes the following hereupon of the hereafter. Yours is day, but ours is night. At the end of Days of the Last Battle, the Universe will be reincarnated.
For preborn, unborn and stillborn are one and the same…

Chapter 160: Daddy

Chapter Text

Andromeda, this is how she reveals herself to him. Goddess of the galaxies. Running his tender fingers across her lioness’s mane. He was glad that he was alive, life wasn’t taking from him so that he can have the taste of the rare happiness that happens once in a while and never again, for such a period, maybe for that one moment, it is worthwhile to live a life. She is hugging around his strong waist, and he does the same, incasing her in his father’s hug.

- My baby girl – it was all what took and all is said in between, even then, Cersei was raining her bereavement upon the man whom she seemed to forget, but it wasn’t that so, those were all illusions which her mind made to protect herself, making a slight distance while they still held each other, Cersei asked. – Dad…are you proud of me? The way I ended up? – Talion offers her gratitude. – Thank you for being born to me, Cersei.

And the golden daughter was safe in the mightiness of her father’s embrace. Just because he was owned, he was Lannister, no less and no more. A lion.

- Dad – she looks up, tear-stricken face is her new visage – I will make it right, I will rise the army and I… - You do everything what you believe that is necessary, but beware of the hesitant mind. Your power of will, your determination now more than ever will be tried and you and only you may go through both beauty and ugliness, because you came to know both sides. The smallest grain shall be the star that shines the brightest when all around is coated into the dark of phantoms which are shading our paths with meager lightness. Such fate won’t be ours. For our dishonored deeds of every life we lived.

- We committed such atrocities, is it because of it? – Yes, Cersei. My dear daughter, we were convinced that there is no end when we put someone to the sword, but it all comes back. This is why I forgive, Celebrimbor. He was our punishment, the one to whom I am his Kingsguard, but what he plans to do next, it is worse even what someone could dare to reimagine, because even your father knows that there must be a life for those whom he would hoist back to their feet once they kneeled, but Celebrimbor… if I would right at this instant retell you for you to relive, your retaken humanity would black a sin. Cersei, do you know what he has done? If there is no bending, he will erase Life from its existence and reincarnate it anew. – What…did he? – You know that White Walkers are still walking, they are heeding the call of the one who is denying them. – Jon Snow?! Night King – she said with such resolve in her older voice, for you can fake all what you might, but never the sound of your voice when it calls for the revelation.

- There are those children in the humankind, who are preborn and they die, who are unborn and they are stillborn, he bound their souls to the heinous embodiments. Binding to inhabit their most nefarious bodies with their umbilical cords still attached to their belly buttons. There is a million of them, and they will breed amongst themselves when the time comes. When the Master is certain that they do not fail him. It goes at Jon Snow and his Pack, there is even the Witcher…and his Dragon Sorceress. I simply can’t see how it is going to be ended. They are in the perpetual throes if there is no way to undo their suffering – from his mouth, Cersei couldn’t tell apart about what the f*ck he is spluttering so. What was the name of these creatures, of the Darkness, of the pure phantasms.

The Ones Glorfindel couldn’t counter because he would be uncloaked and vulnerable to Cele’s other schemes, he sacrificed some of his lifeblood to diminish them, to offer a possibility of survival, but all is up to the God in the human form and his Pack. For if there is nothing but survival, no greater image and no worthier goal in life, if all is reduced to the surviving and slaying, then all is for naught.

And, even if Talion could speak to his baby daughter a thousand times rather better themes, he decided to entrust with one word. Striga and the world did fall into pieces. Due to the only one certainty that was veiling their lives, as they were shrouds for the gold and silver temples.

Cersei screams in utter shock. Covering her quivering mouth with both hands. Father comforts her in any way he could. Imagine, all those babies, who are revived from their graves, from their mother’s wombs and sent at a good man, the good people, for what?! This goes beyond anything what anybody of them could have done. Where is the end and where the beginning of the deformed mind of Celebrimbor?! Why?! Why?! He is practically hanging them on the threads of life and let them stay like this for all times, what use he would have after? To the elven mind, they are dead and brainless, and their souls are tainted. To him, butchering BABIES, was just his playfield in where no one could ever rival him. Not even Boltons indeed.

- And you are…vowing your lifeline to that…MONSTER?! – I am his Kingsguard. I am Lannister. I will not go against my word. – That man is the abomination and you still…you still...

- King is King. He had his reasons. He would tell you that all these babies, both in the past or future, would be with no chance in life, and they would lost themselves, slip into the carnage and bloodshed. One of them would be even Joffrey.

- I don’t understand.
- You see, in the original time zone, where Joffrey isn’t a sickly or good boy, he is the hidden Striga, and upon his death, he takes his spirit, embodying it into the most horrendous and sordid creature that ever lived. People would think that the life he lived was undeserving and that his death was such. But you see... – below a whisper, just above the hush – no one asks what is there afterwards. For all sins, Celebrimbor uses their contorted life forms at the time they were born and out of their lives, Strigas comes into the being. The Trick which Celebrimbor misused through all sorts of people, to tempt, like Varys, inadvertently, who trust that their lives are just theirs, were used the most. The ones who have no control over their lives, whose life isn’t written, they are free, but for those with established and good lives, the life is forfeited so. And when he exploits it, abuses it, he is the Mastermind of all Evil that ever wore the humanoid face. All those babies are alike all those who lived with no remorse or who would enact all terrors and horrors you can’t even start to portray in your mind. He is taking the advantage of the evil they committed and of perversion that would shape them later in life – she could no longer listen, she fell on her knees, put her hands over her ears and screamed and screamed.

Nobody would picture that this will be their reunion. He scooped her back to his fatherly comfort and let her cry out all the tears she held back.

Her boy…her boy is in there. Her baby boy, her baby, the child is unblessed! Her boy is STRIGA. He never even died. He is in there and he comes at Jon Snow. No…nooo…don’t let him be slain!

- Listen to me – grabs her tightly - he isn’t your son, he is something else. Let Jaime never know. Once it is done, he will be purified and he will be endorsed to be reborn.

- He will? How?! Until then, I can’t live with my mind that goes back to him, he calls to me!

- LISTEN, MY CERSEI – he holds her fast – this is your moment, this is your BIGGEST TRIAL. This is where you decide, from where you go. If you make a choice, to find him, you are going to be slain by your own son, and Jaime will die as well, you shall, by your force of such the strength in your will, take him with you. Lannisters are done! Or you bite onto your tongue and endure the suffering, rise the armies.

To forget how she gave birth to her baby and now, her birth father forces out of her, not to be a mother.
But to be a mother to all but to her OWN child!
- If you lay this blood sacrifice, there will be children between you and Fingolfin, if you choose the blind faith that leads to the vicious cycle, for sometimes, that is for what it is, for what it is made, the blind faith, then, all what rests upon you is the doom and regret. Blessed are those who hadn’t seen and they believed. Now, the blind faith is to have faith that your child will find his peace, one way or another, yet it will not be you.

He brought her back from the precipice of abyss and told her next what she discerned so easily. The faith that will guide her to the victory for all living.

- Just because it is gold, it doesn’t mean it will shine forever. My Cersei, see for what that gold is, those are just mere rocks – she succumbed to it.

Chastity. Letting go of Joffrey, the child who brought her to most joy and so little condolence. I am so sorry, my baby. Forgive to your mother, forgive.

- You are a strong woman. You never needed any sword, or knighthood. You are Cersei Lannister. Matriarch of all Lions. Remember. I love you!

Her eyes had changed its color, it was the uttermost beautiful color of suns. In them he took back his power and gave her the strengths of each lion out there. No more tears. She isn’t another brick in the Wall. BREAK IT. TEAR DOWN THE WALLS. BREAK THE WALL, BREAK IT DOWN! And she did. In her place was a woman she for all her eternity dreamed to become. In her place was the Queen of Seven Kingdoms like no one could ever surmise. Later on, Talion was exhausted. Returning to his guard’s chambers, comfortable and cushioned, just the way he liked after he bade farewell to his loveliness he noted in his dauntless daughter. However, in shadows, he already waited. His Lord of the Darkness. Celebrimbor is sitting on a throne.
*
A Coat of gold or Coat of Red, the lion still has claws,
And mine are long and as sharp as yours,
For you are not Lord to whom I bow.

Not anymore. Never forgetting parents who did raise me so.
*
Do not trespass my borders…watch the mark on your back for eternally or you are to get stolen. The Dark Angel is the symbol of Boltons, Wolves of the North. Of Giants and Titans.
*
All the while in Dale, all people thanks to the gold as the gift from Northerners, prospered and the Dwarves lessened their pride by supporting and upholding a bond between the Two Races.

Chapter 161: Maiden of the King’s Spring

Chapter Text

From the East to the West, just like Misty Mountains, akin to the Whispering Woods, and so were Black Woods in the same league when it comes to the sheer knowledge of how much in fact it was vast. And at its edge, the people from all around the world were gathering to the hallowed place where the Sword in the Stone was waiting for its knight. Ringing the ascendency of King of Kings. The location that was strictly guarded by the Wolves to ensure the fairness, because there could be only one who can pull it, only once. Arya didn’t try. Something told her not to even give it a go, because she was besought somewhere else. And that seat is her home. Winterfell. For the time being, Varys was positioning himself in the dreamstate, there was somebody he needs to talk with and he found him through the looking twin sister, akin to Cersei, but the realm form was quickly materialized, for his powers in the mystified grew. And Varys, being the one who is also sensing the overlapping realities, coming from both, could Forge all of connections.

- Master Tyrion. – Varys?! It was a long time ago. – Tyrion, just yesterday. – Ah, yes. – You must link yourself with Sansa – this claim is left amid the both men. – I can’t.

- Why?

- I betrayed her to the Elves. To her…golden uncle. To High Knight of Exalted Gondolin, Great Lord Glorfindel.

- She still doesn’t know? – She found out on her own. She doesn’t need anybody anymore to explain her how things are working. – And you, as I may notice, very well are distinguishing the inmost workings of someone else. – Varys…leave me alone. I can’t. – She doesn’t know many things, she is aware of Snow, but not of the Black.

- Else she will find out, she is not some naïve child. Never was. – I believe you know this the best, dear friend when you had me burned or in some other reality…well, burned again. I felt those fires as my dear friends, close nonetheless.

- I am not a man. No more, not ever again, any longer to be what I never become. – This punishment, suits you like no any other. If there would be something I would do to you. I would take your pride in the most incredible fashion and my grudge bore a beautiful fruit and now…I shall stage the performance and you just… - Varys, I can’t even look her in the eye. The first thing I may do is…betray her anew. – I hate you, you know that. – Well, you are still speaking to me, that is something, the fresh start, and there is no way to expect it anyhow dissimilarly. - You met others of your kin in this way likewise.
- You won’t give up.

- No. And you know why? Well, let me it put it straight to you, Tyrion. Yes, everyone had their share, the role and the part, but it was all down to you, if only you did come back for her, as you promised, none of this would ever happen, it is all your fault and she suffers immeasurably. Because of you and at this moment, you can’t even meet her eyes?! That is lower than you. You had balls for each situation out there, but one little lion won’t savage what remained of his fall?! This isn’t you. I thought, leastwise, that you are no coward. Forgive me, you are a scaredy cat. Sorry, to put it this way, but you are no Lannister. At least, fight to the end. For the end is all what is left to us, dearest friend.

Tyrion was broken. For a man of unceasing words, now he had none. Poetic. He had to do something, to alleviate a wrong against her that he had done.

- So, what were you talking? – You have your Shadows, Celebrimbor. My Dark Prince – for this, the Lord of the Rings smirked, the title he claimed for himself after the Downfall of its unrightful Owner and Master, fitted him so.

- I can’t ever vouch what is taking place, what will take part or join the cause. It is the ancient room, the only where the Walls have no ears, no mouth and no senses. I did it intentionally, to give you the sense of some control and power, in the realm, where is none. – But you attest that something is fishing about this all?

- Remember, Lannister, evermore, stride with care around me. What saves you from rape is your oath to me. This is all what you ever do. Perhaps, you are of the East and South, but in the end, your soul is that of the North and I know that you know that I allow the freedom because I can, not because I want to. I give you this liberty to express yourself. And if you all, even for a second, trust your minds, that I am permitting that the war comes at my gates, you are heavily mistaken. Yet, I let you. I love to play, in the end. Whoever wins. You lose, notwithstanding, My Lion. And you are aware what it means – Talion cringes, watching him go. – Where are you...?

Celebrimbor stops in his tracks. Not looking back. – My Sansa.

Lady Lauriel, Sansa’s Elf handmaiden, was looking for her. Couldn’t find her anywhere. She joined her later when she was already in the clutches of the Dark Elf, but through all, until now and later on, she stays adhered to her and her needs, to the love and friendship both formed, as deep as the Moon, and as real as the life itself. Sansa is to her a sister she never had and to Sansa, she is the last glimmer of hope.
Alone as the Lone Wolf, no felicity to rejoice in, in the world that sees her as the alien amongst the elven kind. At least, in Eregion, the Hollin kingdom, the space exists where she can pray and be with herself, with no one else to molest her lost liberties. For the privilege was for those who were born under the luckiest star that drew its breath upon the creation of maiden life form.

- I thought I will find you here – she turns, seeing her Lauriel, the crossbreed of Teleri and Vanyar. Her marvelous shiny tresses were of the Sun, while her heart is the one that belongs to the sea, whilst to Sansa it is her home in the winter. Both women were on the dry land, reaching for the sandy shores. However, this was their resting place, for those who breathe, but hardly you may see them as alive. Under the eaves of the oak tree that has made the shade where Sansa has laid, Lauriel doesn’t feel a need to do the same, to join next to her. – I have some obligations, would you be so kind to return to the Heart’s Veranda? I can’t keep an eye on you like this. – It is the closed garden, I want the sunflares, My Lady.

- Here in the open, in the Lord’s Gardens, everything is possible, even for a shadow to discover you and so, in the least, Heart’s Veranda is the Lady’s inner sanctum. – Well, I aspire to go where only men walk. Please, leave me be. Where I would go anyway? The last time I was whipped by Celebrimbor when I tried to escape his Elves or the Wraiths.

- I will protect you.

- No one can protect me – lump stays in the throat, and the small voice has become in Lauriel. There were no shackles or bonds, and yet, he always found her. No true freedom for her lady, sighing, if there was anything that she could do, but nothing. Turning away.

- Thank you…Lauriel, for all – all else stays in between, as always, and Lady Lauriel did realize that Sansa’s voice never changed. It altered the timbre, but never the way she sounded, and that was sign of untamed. He didn’t break her, nor she will let it come to pass. For she was the Pride of Winterfell. Sansa withstood to be naked in front of him, only before him she was.

Never humiliated, but her scars are carried with dignity, hidden or perceived. Whenever there was the retribution, he made certain that he is the one who applies the remedy that soothed her cracked skin. Once, he even said, that it reminded him of the living river from which he could harvest the live diamonds. He could free her from scars, but he left them on her as a remainder of property to himself.
Closing her eyes in serenity. The sunflashes who were coming through the meshed net of laden leaves, were blocked, by a huge man. She opens her virginal irises. What she didn’t know, couldn’t hurt her, because Varys was the only who spied when Celebrimbor…would lash every God out of her and for some, her screams are Music, to him, were Seven Hells, and she reads in his eyes, that he knew and says nothing about it. He beats for defiance.

- Lady Sansa…Princess…are you…feeling…good? – Lauriel took care of everything – it was the stern statement. – What do you wish? If he sees you with me, he will cut the rest what is of you lingering – he looks away, all the beauty and luxury, only were hiding the horror she was living with him, just because she doesn’t submit. – You perhaps, should consider to give him something. Anything. – Never. I don’t love him. Scorn it.

And there that was. That was…essentially the problem. Alike her father, she doesn’t compromise her honor. Even if that would save her, spare her from beatings, because the visible bruises are in the soul carved, for the ones that are unhidden, are much worse. Sansa Stark is the Wall that shall not be broken and the ruddy cheeks of hers are threatened to be marred as well, because her Lord Celebrimbor would even show it to everybody, what her uncompromising spirit is bequeathing. Lord of the Darkness has willed if she doesn’t bend the knee, she will suffer as any abused woman in this world, daily. Day and night, and not even once she did bend. Never. It will cost her greatly, greater than any price. He must attempt to save her from... herself.

- He started doing it to you, once you came to be…more defiant. Before, at the beginnings, there was cherishment. I have to speak with you of it.

She looks up and it was obvious. She was her Father’s Daughter. She will never trade her honor for what? For some peaceful days, while in her all is festering away. Rotting. No. She is unbent and this is how it stays, unbowed, and uncorrupted. This is what hurts the most. She is Sansa Stark, she won’t be ever cowed into submission, no matter even if heavier hands than his would strike or rise unto her, every her part of her being is bristling and each had its place in the grander image. Her life would be easier, but no, she was Fish, but first, she is Stark. The Wolf. And the wolves from afar are howling most grandly when there is a cause that binds the blood to its oath. Jon hears her, and he answers. Sister! I am coming. White Wolf as Witcher.
*
The sound of broken violin in the voice no longer lives, those who were recognizing, became most aware that the White Wolf in Jon is unbridled finally. Wolves howl and Lions roar, listen to us, it saddens the story. For the dignity, pride, honesty, respect and above all others, all else, is sincerity in Honor. Unlike Dark Elves who prefer Moon and Stars, distant and cold light, far from warm and nigh. Say the words that painted the worlds. Winter is coming, back!

Chapter 162: Water lily and Dream

Chapter Text

Dark Elves of all kinds are among them to live. Sansa isn’t distracted by Varys nor when he left her. She had no clarity and most of the time she lived in confusion what the life expected her to do. She lived in the certainty that her life assuredly will live up to the magnificent purpose, that her life will have a stronger meaning than being saved from what really? Why did she have to live so miserably?

What did she do wrong? If this was kind of lesson, it had the sarcastic sense for the irony. The one who brought her back. Her dear uncle, the same one who is making her go through this, put her into something she never asked for. Her father should never weep for her or ask Gods for her to be brought back to life.

It is overestimation of all centuries. If there is someone who wants to live so badly, regarding all what is surrounding that person. Here, she offers all her life, freely. What is there for her? She never achieved her dreams and she will stay just somebody whom you might feel sorry for, somebody because of whom you are feeling better and then, even if there was the time when she believed in God, now, all what remains is the hanging thread that is so far that she can’t stand it. And you know what? She could f*cking care less what others would think.

She is complaining about herself, not others, she feels the need and sees that something is wrong, she is doing it constantly, the wrong thing. There was never a time or any space when she would tell to herself. This is it Sansa. But why did she have to suffer so wrongly? All of this was a mistake. It should have been the Lannister Princess.

It should have been even her sister, why her? Possibly, she sounds dark, but that is all what inward dallies around. Just herself. The chaos of the darkness. For her bedchamber (the courtesy that her privacy was granted) is attached to his. Hers is called the Little realm, his the High realm. Go figure. He always visits, she only when he dictated so.

- It is made of the halls in which the women were enslaved, but not anymore in this place, elsewhere is his another Safe Keep, for his grim intents.

Sensing the anger regularly. When she wants to give up, the anger shows up. Hating it for giving her another chance, even while listening to one of his Courtiers. It disgusted her beyond recognition.

Doesn’t ask for anything but some justice, but it seems, while others are bathing in the light, she sees the two side of the same coin. How slavery and freedom are interchanged. Would she be tranquil, at ease if she were to work in the mines or toiling for fee.
- You would never know unless you try. – I did, for so many times…that I… - wait…who is this? Where was she?! She fell asleep. Of course, this is where they may find even her loneliest dream, but what she never anticipated is to see Tyrion. The painting of the sunbathed and glistened woman was his other form, overlaid. So, this is what they made of him. She can’t take it, clenching her teeth. Intending to ignore him for the rest of her napping time. Maybe, she even wakes up, if she just disregards his life. Even the sound of his voice, makes her seethe and even throw up! – I am so sorry. Sansa…I yearned for my family to accept me and… - I trusted you! – she doesn’t turn around, she is leaned on the tree as it was her anchor that was holding her down, not to strangle him from the other side of subsistence.

- I want to help you. – No one can help me, not even your sister. I am so glad I have seen her, you know. She tasted a lot. I was happier to see her visage because it was true, it was real, you…on the other hand, you could make a change, but alas. I hate you all. But you are the worst! – hearing her say it, it broke his little heart into thousand pieces, because even though he may look himself in the mirror, he will never forget the truth.

- Sansa. God wants you to be happy. – How? Here? With what?! – now she did turn and she was more beautiful than ever, nearly as ethereal as any Elf. How is that even probable, that one woman enjoys beauty, but not what came from it. – Sansa, you are young, healthy and you have so much to live for, and offer and to stay present, to have a life. It is a gift, the honor and… - Don’t speak of honor and life in the same sentence, don’t even try to utter it. Tyrion Lannister. I know precisely who you are under your wall – she is stands up – and if this is the life in suffering, instead of achieving, I would rather be DEAD! Why would I bother anyway? Why would I?! There is nothing for me, but the other life, it calls me. It would be the most miraculous experience, something I prayed for.

- And cast this just because you have received bad cards, you never know what may come of it, you have played so well till…– You call that play?! I am going to show you game. I am demonstrating – and before he was aware of what she is doing, she is nude like she was just now born from her mother’s womb. Every button is unbuttoned and every seam of the translucently twinkling dress is down, displaying her sufferings. – Look at me, don’t you dare to look away! - whirling for him to see, her pale - pink back while moving away the loosened strands of her hair, pulling her crown up so that he beheld the macabre horror, and grotesque terror. He gasped.

Then she is turning for the display, exhibiting how every part of her frame is either cut or lashed, burned or even beaten, till nothing is there to watch at.
- This is unreal. That is not possible. You are doing it with the purpose. To punish me. – What is a reality?! Every piece of my build is deflowered by him, except for the face, everything else, he did exactly what he wanted with it. – Even if he did…he would never leave you… - Of course. If I were in our dimension, not in the dreamstate, my maiden body is virtuous, but this is how my life looks, and the little scarring flesh in the wake moments are nothing but a remainder as he says about what awaits if I do not submit, but this is how it in fact looks, when you take down all of your lies and masks, this is how I look, this is my life I have to live because you CURSED ME TO LIVE IT SO! Blasted me! – her voice is shaking, unlike any other elven sound, Tyrion’s was of the fragile child. Never seeing that such a man, as him, could in truth, cry so heartily in that hour and she stopped it. Urged her not to do it anymore. Her nice dress was on her. And Tyrion hugged her, regardless of her wishes or not.

Into her as pathetic as he was, he sobbed sorrowfully. He was so shaken, she has to live it and him to hold it out. Who is then in the higher pain of two?

- I beg for forgiveness. I assure you. We will all find a way for you – and Sansa’s right nature is sprouted out, as if she were the innocent child, where is her innocence at the instant? Where did it go?! May it come back?! Returning the affection in which he was basking. Sansa ducks down to reach him, evaluating and measuring not. She presents for who she is still.

- Tyrion. Do you remember childhood? – Yes. It was great and you were such sweetness – he eyes up and she gives a shining white smile. – It is the end of childhood. Tyrion. For me. – What do you allude? Sansa? Cersei surely said it to you, that not all is as it seems. – You don’t know – she shatters her perfect visage and she lets it out, let it fly through undiscovered horizons, clinging at Tyrion who held her. Both are locked in both hatred and love, only on his side, there was no longer any grudge, just the guilt he shall rectify. – You will see, before you know it...

- I forgot to live in happiness. – Then be for self, not Elves.

Freeing her, he blessed her and she gifts in return her own blessing. In the bliss she woke up, before her was the outmost beautiful and dark-haired Elf who resembles so much humanity that it ached what he was giving her. Woe for his own affliction, rue for the unrequited love. For some reason, she felt so wearied. Can’t go on like this anymore. Had to halt. She trades nothing, but a nice word here and there, and this is what Tyrion taught her, might open the Iron Gates. You never know…unless you try. Unexpectedly she smiled at Celebrimbor who backs away for a moment.
He was rather pleased just to watch her, but when she opened eyes, he waited for the scorn, but instead, it was her maiden smile which he took for the omen, to join his Lady.

The little birds which were related to the doves were touching the glazed surfaces of the nearby ponds, splashing and spurting, diving into the deeps of the invited discovery, only to emerge out with the joyful screeches. They were happy even in the apparent captivity, for they were enthralled in the enthrallment to serve the delivery of something what wasn’t there, now it blooms. Is it One Ring or something else? It is doomed to fail. While colored butterflies were pollinating by the grazes of their flattering wings. Across the sea green lagoons which are filling the gleamed pools of Grand Waterfalls.
*
Jon thought about Sansa a lot. If he comes with the Dragonfire, there she is too, for mistakenly, he might hurt her, so Dark Lord has got the advantages. Let Targaryens sing to their Dragons.

Chapter 163: What is the real him in the most unlikely place?

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It is to do something or even love when all is fair and just, but when you are in the bowels of the excruciating anguish, it becomes less and less easier to comprehend. Soon, it will come that time when even Targaryens must prepare. Blood Dragon Queen is invoking the Invocation of Blood for the grandest of the Targaryen elven kin, for if there are King Bee, she was the Queen Bee in disguise, her Dames are around her. Visenya is bracing for him.

- Hm, let them sing and play their songs, it is futile – Celebrimbor with his eyes closed was relaxing by her side. He is very aware that Visenya would even try to collect Sansa for their gains and hand her over…to the next? Over his dead body. She belongs with Elves, but not of the ones who are of Dragon blood, not even to Vanyar, their Dragon kin.

- What did you say, My Lord? – she was stunned by his surprising words, he opens his obsidian irises to her. – It saddens me, all the ills in the world. I will purify it, one way or another, or force it to be so – she had no idea what he was talking about, albeit more worried that he doesn’t discern the twin light ring around her finger which is being diminished by every second around his, thus risking to unearth even her secrets bare to him.

- My Lord…I don’t grasp your notions. – My Lady, you will figure out over time, you are smart, even too ladylike not to know – in his speech as well as in his presence, the voice and in the deepness of his glance was coloring the blank pages which are yet waiting to be written. In Blood or Fire. Trying to understand him. – Celebrimbor – he twirls to look her in the eye, rarely she is intimate with him – excessive profits you are gaining from your shadow games, underground.

- Have you seen them? Without my permission, dear Lady? – No. I don’t even want your consent. I can’t experience it. – Good. It is not for the woman. There are no women. – There are females of… - They are not women. – You say, that you wouldn’t…I mean…it isn’t like someone is so keen to watch it, but… - Not even to any woman, be she Queen or commoner. I said so myself. That is not the place for Ladies. – Brimbor. – Celebrimbor…please…Sansa – he eyes her sharply – do not nickname me. – I am not sure how I am supposed to act around you. For an Elf…you are, I don’t know…all of you are unique, yet, with no one I can speak freely. – What is there to talk about? I can’t read you. That is why it is the way it is.

- I am sorry, but there are wonderful things which are the best when they are left unheard. – Or unsaid. – Brimbor.
- Oh, I hate that pet name! You are as cold as the cow in the bed, it is like I f*ck some goat and yet, you are more sensual in the small talk than where you should be – it didn’t get to her, because being good in the bed as he says, is not her priority, the intellectual mind is. – I apologize for not spreading them WIDER! – he facepalms, she doesn’t even try it, because it is the least what is dear to her. – I believe that is why your womb is empty. Nothing grows in you. I can’t mark you either, nothing… what is it?! – Then, you should let me go. Find someone who can give you the multitude of healthy elven children and allow them to loiter around with their pointy ears.

He smirks. Pointy ears. Already he feels that she is touching them all over again. Her fascination for their ears was in turn, fascinating for him to taste it.

- Your endearments with me are not working. – This seashell inside, what is that? – she points a lot more awkwardly than she was permitted, more profounder. – To better hear, you can’t hurt me like this, you know… - Why would I hurt you? – You are sticking your fingers where you shouldn’t.

- You will teach me? Where should I stick them? – Inside my mouth, I don’t know…anus would be preferable. – You are vulgar – she shrinks away from him and he blows into a laughter. – Since when you are such a prude?! – I dreamed of the prince in the shining armor. To speak to me about songs and love and you are just…ah…never mind – props himself on the elbows while the half of the shade is covering his other side of the elven face. – What is your another question. – What?! – Here – he opens his mouth wide, then closes – it isn’t that hard, you don’t even know to open them ably when I put my tongue in yours and – sticking out his tongue only to retract it back – you see these small spots on my tongue? – Yes? – They are for the extra pleasure. That is why we order for mouths to be wider open, we can’t intrude if you are, well, Sansa Stark – she rolls her eyes.

- Are you finished with you telling me how I am failing at every aspect of pleasing a man. – A woman too and I try to give you lectures but…your nose is just stuck in the book. – There are some nice paintings in them also. – You love that painting more than me. – I don’t love you. – I know. When you will? – Never. – Ah…I am bored even whipping the sh*t out of you. It is fun when you are defiant, but now… - You are giving up on me? – No. You may not sound as hopeful as you are deep inwardly, but know one thing. I will be the last face when you die, immortally or mortally and oh, yes… - he grins at her.

- I have decided that this year, it is my hour – her young face lines are blacked. – What are you…?
- Traditional way. I shall bleed you. Just like it is done to Cersei – presented it with his hand – I slit your soft throat, let you bleed like a lady you are and then, I mix a tad with mine, blood in the bleeding pool and here you are. Immortal Sansa Stark!

The way he was describing, made her stomach churn. She possessed the persistent and soft power behind her mask, but this was far too much to take it.

- Why don’t you try feeding me Elf potions of Great Turgon of Gondolin? – This is effective and…you are ready. – It is another form of your torture. The punishment. – No. It is love. – You are sick. – I am not. You are HUMAN! – she guessed he will slap her, but he didn’t, just throwing a rose in her direction which she didn’t even give any attention.

- When I ordered for you to be brought to me, I never would ever think that you are Ned Stark in the female form. It disgusts me! Why don’t you break for me?! – You said it yourself. I am a cow. I am proud to be one. Cows are noble animals unlike Elves. – Ah, so Jon Snow is the cattle for you? The pig you fed and swine you would slaughter. Is that it?! Is this what you think of your brother? Naughty Sansa. You adore pigs – two can play this game, she turns her head to him, he smirks.

- To me, it is enough that as a cow…I serve you well, with no milk and no fruits – oh God, his pride was up, he pounced at her, just taking her while Sansa was out of herself, so surprised and shocked, that he would be tearing her favorite and favored dress into shreds, whiles he sucks her breasts, she winces. – Wait, wait! – What now?! You want a gag? – he looks so disheveled and wild between her swelling bosom. Why are Elves so kinky? Their evolution went in another… favoring course and during it, she was stuck in between, the golden middle.

- No, I have got…a very strong headache. – Are you jesting with me?! – his voice is screeching deeply and darkly. – I am not. – I am not going to take you in the head. – I have menstruation, bad. – I may bring some towels. – You won’t milk me out because I am not in the mood! – Not even when I pinch you! – No, nothing. Dear Brimbor. – Holy Cow, you are frigid! And I am your Lord…not…Brimbor! It sounds like Bambi. And we know who killed his mother. Besides. Your body doesn’t react at all!? To me?!

- Only once with another – she dared, he is up above her, clutching her frail nape, pulling back her head by the strands of her curly red stresses. – You have a confession to make? – she watches intently. – It was a Wolf. Ramsay Bolton and you are so heavy! Lose some weight! – this did work on him. – I am not fat! – I told you that you are bulky, well framed, not fatten!
His ears were erecting all the way up and it looked so cute to her. She had to touch them, relaxing him. If anything, she does worship elven ears. Like it.

- You are all wonderfully looking with your ears, there is no why you would easy up with your marzipan filled chocolate – words endeared him, she pushes buttons so well and he admires her because of that. He is playing shadowy, playfully, and yet, even if he is winning by drawing out of her the best, she is successful in her conquest praiseworthily. She is remarkable like no other. – So, My Cold Cow and Fat Elf?! Isn’t that so!?

Sansa beams, wishing to stroll, which he fulfilled, leaving her alone. She will never be in a good mood. That is why, side by side, they were taking that walk throughout the gardens of water lilies, it was something to remember. There are many, but this is one of her most loved places, whilst sometimes, he is following her and joining her later. Loving to watch how she is accepting, at least, his so elvish being. Talion appeared to both with his small smile.

- May the Third Wheel join in? – if there was somebody she did acknowledge, was Lannister who kissed her both hands, Celebrimbor stood his guard over her possessively. – You are most welcome. – I am glad you are acknowledging a lion, leastways – Celebrimbor cut in – since the time you two made your acquaintance, you are both intolerable. – Stop your jealousy, My Lord. – Stop touching her – he slaps the lion’s hands away, which had him chuckle, asking. – Why is your lovely Lady in…pieces? – New fashion. – Or your eyes better to see?! – That as well. If I weren’t as decent and as civil as I am, she would wear no clothes at all. – With no tongue. – She has one. – She can’t use it, you answer in her stead. Elf.

This definitely entertained her. Their friendly interactions were ridiculous when it comes to her. Talion would do that every single time, it was sort of the little vengeance he would exact and she would permit it. Each time, when Talion or she would find the spot for their own personal space, both would talk about everything. It was stupendous to have such a companion who never judged her. Never. If anything. Lions never judge, he would justly remove all traces of her unhappiness with the stroke of his lighter soul. The more she was coming to know him, getting into his head, the more he reminds her of Jaime. Very similar in appearances, but Talion was bulkier, Jaime is leaner. Enjoying each other’s companionship. Wolf Lady and a Lion! Walking in shadows to hide, from them and amidst, laid is friendship.
*
Perhaps, Elves approved to their Targaryen kindred to replenish their population by conquering the permitted, outlying areas and the surrounding edges which were inhabitated by the human villages and countryside of hamlets, but the Citadel of Martell stood taller and stronger, even prouder than evermore. With 25 hatched Dragons, they were the Force, unseen.

Chapter 164: Outlandish and served

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Intimidated, that is how she felt at her first months. Everything was weighing on her. From secrecy, she would watch the clandestine affairs, how both men and mainly women are giving themselves or someone is selling them, for the cures or to be cured, because of impoverishment or for the sickness from life. Never to have them as he was owning her in every way possible, but in all these shadows, she learned and Celebrimbor was a great teacher, she was learning and studying from the best. How some practices are performed, how it was done or executed.

With swiftness or humanized snare. She would often whisper to people, choose the harshest and you will see the light. More often than he could count, knew that it was her who would impede or prevent his schemes and he loved their mutual dance. Sansa was the perfection in the imperfect world. Her soul was pure, her spirit intact and her mind was something he would rather eat. Yes, just like that. He should split open her brain mass and feel the gory stickiness which is oozing amongst his fingers. He loved her that much that he would devour her bones and suck her blood even though he wasn’t vampiric, she was intoxication without which he can’t live anymore.

His fate was sealed and her heart is the most powerful weapon in the world. She was the Will of the Wisps which had grown into the flames and thundering purity, for it was both thunderous and clamorous, not giving up when it is the hardest. Especially she memorized the first meeting with Talion, the Kingsguard of the Silver. He sneaked upon her, around the waist clutched and handgagged not to scream. When he introduced himself as a whisper, he liberated her, it was to her as if the second chaining of her unslaved will was reprieved and she was in shock of him. For he was tall, male looking and yet, such gentleness is unbeknown to her. However, this man was different, she liked him from the first sight, the lion.

- I would never presume that he is holding you as well. Lannister? Out of all. – People say that all the time. – How did… it? – Long story short, I was insufferable and he lives for the spoil as I – she giggles, so true.

- We can’t offer him much, yet, I believe it is the sweetest when something is unconquered for him – Sansa is like a lark who proffered her hand for a handshake, this was the first time since she was brought here that she actually showed some interest, other than just brooding around about her ill fate, what struck her the most, wasn’t his initial manner of kissing her hand, but the way he was doing it, sensing it is the touch of velvet feathers. Like an Angel. Making her smile so profoundly, that it in reality, brightened his utter bleak world. – Oh, you are the knight in the shining armor – he upended his posture at her glowing beams.
- What?! Only donkeys passed by until now, I saved you?! – she started laughing so hard, oh, yes, this was something…no, someone into whom she can pour her sorrows and doubts, he laughed together for her. For each other, it was a godsend, depending on the days, the two of outcasts, both were finding the hope in one another. – Yes, I prayed for one and you came up! – and the soft friendship between a woman and man flourished as little might be thought. – What are you doing here? Lady Sansa? – Oh, I am praying and I pray a lot.

- To what, for whom? – For everything and everyone. – Do Gods of all breeds…listen to your pleas? – her lips stay unsealed, that was the answer. – So, this is your place? What is it? It is just some rock and grass, a little farther from Lord’s Gardens. – Here, no one bothers me. – I see… and I also notice that you write too? – I write, in fact, a lot more than someone would think. Even in my head, I have the complete pictures and when I paint them, they end up something differently, but I am happy for it – he knows what she is speaking about.

- Would you show me? I want to watch how you pray and write, how it is done. I believe, I need a prayer or two. – You do!? Oh, I can teach you! Wait! – childlike bride of Celebrimbor was irresistible, he saw that Celebrimbor didn’t fall for her pureness or innocence, sometimes, it has nothing to do with it, it was this…the child in her never died out, she didn’t become hateful, no resentment, she was free in her head. A girl-child she is. Somebody would take praying as some hobby or the triviality to shun, but to her, it was the act of the upmost reverence, because what you deem as mundane, to her it was the elevation and she did it with such practice and discipline, kneeling down and putting both hands clasped in front of her. Even the gesture as simple as she shows was the most splendid to observe. – Always keep in mind that Will of the Wisps are around you.

- Will of the Wisps? – I see them all the time when I pray, you will see them too once you start to pray, but you have to stay focused on the present, what you plead for and it always inspire me to write even better! – he kneels next to her. – What are you writing about…or whom? – Beowulf. – Beowulf? – About the man who was both hated and loved, and so he, in turn, he learned to both hate and love. – Hm, intriguing.

- What is? – Women usually write about other women and their loves. They idolize the humanity or their potential love interests. – Because all they want is gratification of lovers, not a story. I sighted that even the most intellectual woman doesn’t write nobly, but just skillfully about her personal unprivileged statuses in the society of men. – And what about you? – she shrugs her shoulders childishly. – If I still can be me, who cares to whom the world belongs?

- But, women despise to be a role in someone’s story. – I don’t. I believe…that is honor – the more he listens to her, the more he was falling also, no, this is friendship, it started as one, and it won’t end as love. It will be platonic and much more. He wanted her being to be for herself, not for any man.

And he lived in the man’s world, in the same one that enslaved him too, both of them, the two caged and kept birds who are finding the purpose in their bars, and who are locked to find the meaning in their lives, and the irony was that neither him or her had the choice. He truly loved this girl, and who wouldn’t be enamored from the maiden sight? Just look at her? She was the personification of the freed mind. You don’t even need wills of wisps or whatever, although, they were already around him, he gained no sight yet, while watching her how she performs the simplest ritual as it was the noblest, no, she made it look so and so it was. Emulating her moves, very soon, he did discern some glimmering orbs, loitering. Asking a Little Princess.

- Tell me more about Beowulf. Who inspired you to write about a man? – Is it that so unusual? – Women identify with their gender, not of the humankind. That is all they perceive. – I distinguish a man from the animal, actually. – How so? – There is that Elf who enthralled me. His name is Glorfindel…- ah here it is. This was that connection between, this is what it is about, he knew there must be it. – You know him? You came into contact? – Yes, it is hard to forget…ever. That is his allure. – Did he bring…

- No, no…believe me, I wouldn’t suffer it…Celebrimbor, thankfully, does it himself, while he came to buy me from our dearest Dark Elf – making her snigg*r – and, it was unsuccessful no matter how much he offered, higher than any price. He had some plans for the House of the Dragon, I escaped such destiny. He is sugaring, sweet conversing, but underneath, you never know. – He doesn’t. – What? – He is honest. While I was in his hands, he never present you with the impossible. You may trust his word – this is when his initial rejection of Glorfindel begins to bend, doubting his decisions, maybe, he should have come with him, but then again, he would never meet her.

- I found out some stuff about him and my personal bloodlines, the point from where we are all connected. – Keep digging, Sansa Stark, it is our only due. – Glorfindel is a good man with all his evil complexities. – You don’t detest him? – I miss him – she exhales, shocking him not, he understood. Glor is one of a kind not to miss, to forever crave to be in his shining shadow he casts on Walls and in between. – I believe he misses you also. – I pray that he will look past his mistakes and come to claim me back. What you experienced with him, is exactly what I want! For life is complicated, it is us who love to simplify the basics of all the living.
Talion got humbled, unbelieving and surprisingly this wasn’t what she yearned for but what incidentally she did affirm and all his misgivings were past.

- All in all, I said to him, a long time ago, even before you are brought that…I can’t go with him. But he may do something for me. – You forged the Pact? You know there is a high cost for it, when you do it with Elf. – Yes. – Who was it? – My daughter. Cersei – and the larger image was unraveled before her bewildered self, confessing to her everything. – She might even come for you and me. When she does, welcome her Sansa.

She did, keeping her promise. It was hard for her to see Cersei like this. It would be lighter if she were a bitch, at first, she even engrossed herself about the revenge, but the child in her triumphed once again and regardless how much she was angry about it, she was glad, that the anger does everything for her to survive, but it pulls back when there is person she has mastered to forgive. Therefore, the very firstborn closure of the bigger picture is still at hand, but it is delivered. Leaving from this part of the story, continuing where we left off. Dandelion was captured, on one of Dwarven horses, which amused him, he was hauled by Jaime on his noble steed from behind in tow with his reins which are binding his hands, well, it can at any time become...

…Worse.

Chapter 165: One of us is chimera of wildflowers

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The more they were closer, the more Jon felt that something is intricately amiss and he didn’t like the prospect of it even for a bit, his Mimicry was expressing himself, some kind of sounds are let out, sometimes, Jon was confused, is Mimicry a boy or girl? He acted accordingly, these Dwarven horses are such a tease, so, he convinced himself that this horse is a male, or maybe was a female. You can’t differ one from another because down there was such a bush that you have no insight what is hidden, which reproductive organs? Well, that is why they are Dwarven. Not because they are smaller or taller, but they fit the sizes of their riders and you can’t tell apart a woman from a man in the Dwarf society and so are their horses. So quaint.

- What is it, Jon? – asked Jaime who had a slight difficulty to ride a horse while pulling the reins of another man, their captive, even though, very soon, he got used to it. – Where is Little Lady? – he answered with the question, and the rejoiced girl for having her official title, loving it more than rather the strange Realm’s Delight, for she felt more accustomed to what she is really deep down, answers at the side of her father, for she is riding her own already, Mimicry was a great practice, grateful she was granted to ride the King’s horse.

- I am here! What is it?! – Honeybee is slightly…tense – he looks down and sees that his Ancalagon was in the state of the hunter, strained and his ears of the bat are upright for the impending impact, which he had no clue from where it might come faster, animals and their six sense. Ygritte and Lady were no better, but they disguised it much smarter, while the rest of the Wolves and their riding companions are having the same inklings. – My Syrax is identical!

- For how long? When was the first time you have noticed it? Initial beginning!? How much time has passed since then? – An hour ago, I took it as a sign of her feeling nasty. – Nasty? – I think, she is riddled by something. – My Dragon too, look, he hisses as the snake. – Well, they are snakes with wings. – I always considered them big lizards. – That too, they have that reptilian side, but the foundation are great snakes with the Wings.

That was so nice. Jaime and others, are discerning that something is pestering Jon. They were stealthy, travelling with wits. But, something was strange!

- You know, he will find you, Jon – Dandelion spoke out, and Jaime in turn, growled like a lion he is. – A free mouth doesn’t mean you may run your tongue, watch it! – Dandelion winces. Damn, this lion’s growls are something.
- Let him speak. Jaime, maybe he feeds me with something useful which is far more preferable than with something what I already know – upon hearing it, Jaime snorts, and Dandelion smirks. - Well, Witchers are monster hunters as they are the Monsters themselves, both human and Targaryens, the perfect combination if you ask me. They are the evolution which Targaryens strive to become, with their silver – haired crowns.

- Who made them first or who was the first? – Hm, some say it was done by the Maiar, but the first, no one knows, it remains the mystery – only then, it was cleared to Jon. Of course. Saruman made the Witchers. Who were the foundations for them? From whom sided? He can’t even start to fancy. This is why even if it is wrong what Geralt of Rivia might do, he can’t decline his own Master’s offer. The Progenitor of their Witcher bloodlines. They are never free.

- Tell me, Dandelion, how does he hunt? – Why do you ask? – Well, he is not the only Monster that hunts other Monsters. We are both White Wolves. I wouldn’t love for your Master to turn into the lamb. – He isn’t my Master, nor Owner, I am a freed man, he is my friend. – Is that right? – Jon swirls in his seat. – Wouldn’t be convenient that you join my Pack, then? It seems to me that Jaime grew fond of you – he sneered whiles Jaime keeps snarling at Dandelion’s disregard. – I simply can’t exist in this type of intense conditions. Tell your Lion to keep his claws away from me! Truly, Jaime, stop it!

- You shall address him as King he is to us! – Stop you two, both! You both are getting on my nerves! – Dandelion grins, Jaime is pissed off.

- When I just think that I believed that you are a good guy.

- I am, Jaime! What is wrong about me?! Witcher chose me! – oh, here it goes again. – I might even start to sing!

- Oh, no you won’t! – Jon facepalmed, they are not going anywhere. Something was fishy about this all.

And the thing is. It wasn’t the Witcher. Of course, he feared him, but Witcher is the Evil he knows, this was something much discernable. What is that?

- HALT! – straight away, everyone did just that upon their King’s command, for Ygritte and Lady did grumble, mini Dragons hissed and both riding companions and his Pack braced themselves. Flexing their weapons at the Witcher and his Dragon Sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerberg, doing nothing, merely watching.

- Would you be so honorable to step aside? This is Mordor, and anything may happen to the lost wanderers as you are – Jon’s gaze is bolted with Geralt’s who conducted himself on the vigilant threads, albeit Yennefer was growing impulsively impatient, for her hasty glances were cast at a direction of Dandelion who waves merrily at both with his hands tied, happy go lucky. She rolls the lavender eyes, it figures. Nothing went unsighted by Jon and the Pack. – You are not as talkative as I see – for a long time, Geralt stared with his catlike irises which were narrowing and widening, the two warrior lords are measuring each other and Geralt chuckles, aware that Dandelion is claimed.

Very much easily. That is going to be corrected by him, mended forcefully, because one thing is the affair he has with the Prey, another when it is mess.

- Would you be so kind to return what is mine to me? Jon Snow? – the coarseness in his voice wasn’t on purpose. Some men love to sound intimidating, Geralt was feral and frightful. – He is yours? – the thick accent of Northman King is coating the plain reveal, not even one is going to budge, as it is understandable. – My friend. – I wouldn’t ever regard that you have feelings, Witcher. – I don’t. – Then, what is this about friendship? He is safer – Jon glances at Dandelion and then turns to Witcher whilst gripping the leather reins – in my care. – Bastard. I came here for your head. But, neither Yen or I may not do anything when he is in your confinement. Let him go and start to act out. I am a busy man.

Jon smiles a little bit. This man was THE BEAST. He could care less about Kings or Queens or the Order of Elves. He had no heed to use a magical shield that won’t deplete him, yet it will save him from the fire, no need for that, he is Unburnt as him. And if some animal bites off some of his limbs, they regenerate faster than light and grow again. But no, not because of advantages, yet for the sheer measures which he is giving out. Even without all these gifts of the Witcher that are bequeathed and endowed, Geralt would still go one on one with Jon Snow. Why? Because it was the Matter of Pride. You may defeat all the likes, still, the Pride of the Man is unlikely to happen in the near future or ever. This was his game he dances as The Lone!

- Elves of yours, the Silvan, they are conscious of what I am speaking to you. Jon. White Wolf. – So thrilling, the two White Wolves, weighing their chances against one another, pitted to oppose their odds. There are epic songs in development, I know Jaskier is by far writing it down in his mind and don’t take their names into your mouth. You are impotent to delve into their elven heads, you can’t read them or anybody’s mind, for we are of the North. And what are you? The vagabond who is getting paid by a higher bidder.
- You are shielding? – That is not necessary, they are their own. – It would use you up. – No knowledge for you. Witcher. And no. I am not giving him back! He belongs to me – this was mental dance, he plays on nerves. – I said, he is mine. Give him back to me.

- Come for him yourself. – GET DOWN! ONE ON ONE, but I refuse if he is in your clutches held! – Deal! That is what I waited for. I learned the hard way that when I offer, I am disregarded, I was patient. – Smart, and I gift you this knowledge, as long as Yen is here, not a person will interfere or save you from me – and just like that? Oh, Jon Snow doesn’t cower and he instantly took the offer? That was music and something what The Witcher found quite amusing. Astonished he feels, because nobody before would dare, only mad man, but this Man is not mad. He is King unlike ever deemed or any other. The King in the North who commanded authority. – Jaime, untie him. Let the spoil be given back.

- Do we have to? – Kingsguard Lannister, you do not expect less even when you should like to, Jon spins in his seat to address the Lannister, in whisperings saying. – Let him go. – He is my spoil. – Jaime – he squeezes through the clenched teeth - let him be. – You are no fun. – LANNISTER! – Fine, fine…here, you are free to go. – May I take the horse? – No, you have your personal, Witcher brought it to you, you all three have your rides, now…see you, our friend – Jaime winks – if you ever come by in the North, you will be well received. – No, thank you. I love my skin unfrozen – skidding back to Geralt who smiles back at the rejoicing boy. – I missed you, Geralt. – Hop in, and stay back.

- As you say! Defy the odds! – As always – now it was the calm before the storm, because Yen, although, she is calmer and nicer looking when Jaskier is returned as promised, she still kept all to herself. – Hey, Yen, what is with face of yours? – Dandelion asked in the shushed voice. The small smile is plastered upon her visage. – The King in the North, Dandelion.

And the friend of Witcher looked up. Because both men were down, they were wasting not even a second. They are the men of honor and word. They live by the same code. One on One, they are the same. The duo who meet the same fate alone. There was no other way. The Heroes who believed they are needed to the world, but instead, they are bastardized and scorned. It was a cruel twist of destiny when Saruman has done what he considered it is only fair. However, what one bystander could ever know? Nothing as they didn’t. They knew nothing. And it was for the best while drawing out their cutting edges on each other. One man who is bound by the Promise and another by the Duty. What shall prevail? Duty over Promise? One of us is your, …DOOM. You will find it in the depth, watching straight at you.

Chapter 166: Oppose the oddities

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Ygritte rarely was out of her wolf form and now with Tauriel, she was following every move that Yennefer made and if there was something to make out of it, because their eyes are latched together. Tauriel had more than enough of experience with someone who is from the House of Dragon and despite that experience, she could differ that this woman was divergent from anything she had the opportunity to meet or get to know, because under the cold bearing, there was the ardent heart of calmness. Just how much this woman was, indeed, powerful? What did she hide behind those lavender eyes of deepness and darkness.

One exquisitely beautiful woman. While Tauriel’s was of innocence, hers was of pure sensuality and she never hide it, but further practiced the beauty that was overtaking what was lost, and all of overpowering what was renamed. That was Yennefer, in all her glory and unflinching right. She loved this man, and if something happens what truly doesn’t hold her heart in peace, she has such the flaring might to desolate all and in the middle of the start, the final what Jon could think of is about his unborn son, about wife, family, his loved sister and dear friend Sam. He has so much to lose.

God will let occur everything that must, heedless of his emotions. Because, why would his purpose be higher than of those who were struggling each day? Why would anybody be looked down just because someone paid no care to their struggles? That is the larger image, not heroes and demi-gods, but the people who every day are holding the darkness at bay by the little joys they offer to others. Jon gripped his Longclaw. It was his father’s legacy, Geralt was clasping his hands around the headstall. Just one stroke may end it or start it all, or become the crucial.

Ease your heart, Geralt, in front of you is no ordinary man, this man was extraordinary. All his life he devoted to only one cause, while you had none except for the bare life. Still, maybe, he has no children, maybe he has no home other than Witcher’s abodes, maybe he is good for nothing, but still, he is worth something when a woman who loves no one, loves him back and when his friend’s presence is warming his back.

Who is he? What was he doing with throwing his life away and what is this man doing, by conducting the same. Their lives are not more important than the others. They are just the spokes on the Wheel, and when they figure out that the Wheel is breaking under the understanding that they are all connected, only then and there, they bested Game. Both mini dragons spread their wings, knelling the sounds of bells. Jon was the first to attack, he jumped and from the midair in the swirls, he clashed with Geralt who wasn’t caught unawares, but the grip was going onto Jon’s side.
The King was far more agile and a very good athlete. In the modern world, certainly, he should have been a sportsman, unlike him who would be sent to battlefields of some foreign country. So odd, why would it cross his mind, calling to it and bearing identically? Never mind, when he responded back, Longclaw almost broke apart, drawing out the worrisome face on Jon Snow.

- You hold, we are welded in this dance, Jon Snow, but you are losing before it even began. – Oh no. I anticipated you for all my life, Witcher, I wasn’t even aware I want it, now, I DO! – leaping, both made their acrobatic stunts, crushing against one another and opposing with every skill of theirs, for their capabilities were infinitive. Jon stooped down, and with the extended leg, he grazed the sturdy shins, bringing down Witcher who didn’t expect for Jon to play so skillfully.

He is underestimating him, but Jon was in great fear, everything he has done is a foil and each time Witcher falls, he just comes back on his two feet, like it was nothing, the Death was looming over him. The final time Witcher got up, he was the towering Mountain, and only then, he begins the brutish plays and the brutalized bestial*ty, it was something barbaric in him and the style reminded him of somebody whom he never had the probability to ever know.

Mountain, that was it. He saw through Geralt’s Shields, reading him in the glimmers of vulnerability. It was the ponderous beast man that was battling the Red Viper. Martell?! He is seeing his death, that was f*cking him! It was wrong to assume that the soul would be reborn through Ingwion Vanyar, there were the remnants, but the full bulk of his spirit was transferred into Geralt. He was fighting off both! Grappling and wrestling, brawling to the impossible. It was turning into the vicious cycle, where for each time he would strike, for that every stroke, Geralt is turning invincible.

Jon’s strength was diminishing while he fights, but for Geralt, HE GROWS STRONGER. Before Jaime could estimate the situation, he knows that Jon is falling. No, no…Jon. When you are battling such an enemy, you have to stay tactical, use your imagination. Jon, f*ck it. He can’t meddle in. Bolton and Brienne were on the edge, they want to help, they don’t know how. Everybody could only watch, still there was one among all them who is wiser. The Hand of the King, Haldir of Lorien who viewed this battle by the somewhat different eyes. Jon was faltering, but, look at Geralt.

He is so used to his raw strength, that one mountain of the beastly creature could never realize with its own existence that there is someone who is in fact resisting his evilness. He is fighting himself first, Jon was sure of himself! Yes! That was it! Jon is RAPTUROUS! That is it! Even so, he is losing the battle, but obtaining the war!
If you would look even closer, now he sees for what it is. Jon held back the last reserves of his stamina, the durability when it would be the most necessary, and there it was, the OPENING, Jon struck through Geralt, the first blood, the drop fell. Geralt stops the combat, so he could see for himself. Inspecting the wound, it was shallow, but enough that it is trickling through his fingers. Jon had numerous cuts, but for Geralt, this was…the first and ever last, turning his head toward Jon. – Would you forgive me, Jon? – breathless King nods. – Geralt, I am so glad that you are not my friend. If you were, I would never fight you as equal.

- And I am sorely sorry that I hadn’t seen one in you, Jon Snow. Had you known…before it had begun?

Jon smiles softly at Geralt who is watching Jon with the awakened eyes. Why? Because Jon didn’t judge him for being what or who he was. That was everything he ever knew. Sold to the slavery by the Law of Surprise, brought to the Witcher’s Fortress, and there, he was starved, beaten to the death, to the brink of dying tortured, just to draw out the best of the best. There was no sleep and no eating, no nice life. Somebody would believe that you are even born evil, he was made that way.
The hatred, just as the kindness, are learned. He was a twisted and fell man, in previous life, and in this one. When he tried to protect the woman from rape, she was frightened by his looks, so, he would leave her to her doom, to be raped and hanged. Wresting the same urges from himself. To rape, to pillage and kill without consciousness, until all what remained was the shell, how he truthfully was beheld by the world who DESPISED HIM, and so in return, he abhorred them all.
The man who was welcomed by disdain, stoned to the low existence, in the end, even he learned nothing but despair he enjoyed to see in others, but Jon Snow, who was slipping, losing control and overtly failing to him, against his unswerving magnificence, didn’t bear any grudge for that, he was glad that he fights the Monster. On his back, Jon isn’t ready to die, he collides his blade with Geralt’s. Keeping it strong and mightily. Geralt’s traces of the bloodsoaked visage were evanishing and in his place, was the maniacal Mountain who spat and leers over Jon, telling him if he feels it, the nearness of the inevitable and Jon spoke back, through the gritty fangs he was showing and proving once and for all! What stays is the Wolf!

- I AM THE KING IN THE NORTH! AND YOU…YOU ARE BUT THE WALL I WILL CROSS! – throwing Geralt back from himself, and so from the force of the blow, Geralt sensed it, his whole ribcage was splintered. Jon acrobatically, in swift agility is back on his feet. His back up reserves are doing wonders and possibly, he didn’t get mightier as Geralt, but the experience was the most preciously attained. Trying to take Geralt out, only for him to stand up, every single time he is to fall, that was the most f*cking admirable that Jon or anyone of the present could vouch to see. Jaime is feeling fairly relaxed now, with the rest of their kin and Elves.
Haldir is smirking, he knew it. Look at these two. Both are broken, on the verge of collapsing, barely held themselves up, and still, they are clinging to the concluding string of their consciousness. Even Yennefer could see it along with Dandelion who doesn’t blink. Such the duel, it was the sight for the sore eyes. Jon is smiling and Geralt as well as little might be thought, something has taken the shape that day. Jon’s vision of Mountain was fading away, never to come back. The last of evil was gone, it died out and in his stead was standing somebody whose heart can be golden.

- I won’t back down. Witcher. – I am rejoicing it.

It was Geralt’s way to say. Thank you, Jon. To all, I am the Mountain Monster, to you, I was…your equivalent. Though, I am better than you and I enjoyed your suffering, you took pleasure that you are combating somebody who can teach you more than someone you call friend. With me, you held down nothing. You can be who you are. Jon and Geralt both swung their honed cutting edges from the uncounted battles, and at this moment, swords felled not, they are discharging such the amount of power levels, that all the people around them were cast away. Falling down, together with the Wolves and Dragons, and all the riding companions.

Only Yennefer stood and watched it, to the endings. Go, go! Now or never! Jon was swaying and swinging miraculously, you couldn’t recognize one man from another. Jaime got up first unexpectedly just to witness how Jon’s energy was replenished and Geralt’s got much higher. Both charged at one another with the war shouts by the honor and promise, duty and call, sealed in the perpetual play of the Game of Thrones. Both are striking, punching and unrecognizable they appeared. Jon’s hair is pinned and body is sweltering, Witcher is drenched in sweat and blood. Both exhausted all, now, untiringly, what remains are the Power of Wills. Will was what kept them on and on. Jaime Lannister was so inspired to come closer, to look into it exhaustively, smiling like a child. This is what Jon didn’t ask for, but what he needs. No one could come nearer, not because of Dragon Sorcerer, but because of the two men who are stuck together, only for the end, both swords are shattering realities. Both did fall.

There was no winner when the dust is dispelled, and iron chains which are thrown around Jon evanesced, never to return. That was for the best, indeed.
Half-star in the air, mini dragons dropped down, retracting their small wings, looking how one man sharpened himself all life and another honored duty.
All the way to the end, without a hiss. Wheezing through the shrilling fangs, the baby’s cries were vibrant through halls and domes. Jon’s son was born.
His name is Turin, by the wish of his Father. And every Time a New Targaryen is born to this world, it holds its breath, for the flipped coin landed well.
Jon’s Dragon Helm lies next to him, Rhaenyra stands in her warrior dress of sister’s gift. Promising to herself, this is the person she wants to grow into. To be the Queen as he was the King. For the Targaryen elven armor withstood all what was thrown at it. There were cracks and tears, it did hold out all.

Mimicry props up! People of the King give everything to him, it is up to the King to return the sacrifice for their sacrifices. Indeed.

Chapter 167: Our King in the North

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Dungeons. Jon fainted for a minute, he was in the womb, it was some sort of the ship. What is this?! It was filled by humanoids, no, those were human slaves who lived in there, never to see the day of light, only by permission. It looked and it felt like the mother’s womb, all those starships, on which are based all others of the elven kind. It looks that the Reimagined borrowed the culture onto which they founded their original roots, and the Original Elves learned from Targaryens. Who would guess that they are all so connected, but something was out there, calling out for him.

What was this?! The throbbing heartbeat inside the visceral innards of which it was created. No way. Was this his Womb? His Starship? But how…it is growing, but he didn’t plant anything, or so he thought. Every Elven Lord has the ability by the sheer will of the desperate mind to initiate the beginning of Creation, the create life, and the Womb is seeded upon the birth of his son which he envisioned, made him so happy. Turin, a baby, like he could feel him in his arms, and the love was spread. He was in love with the child he hadn’t even held yet. Maybe never will, but he was in peace, because he is alive to carry on while he has to keep his promise. Promise is promise. You can’t get away from the Law of Surprise or it will return to you. Lady Mother once said to him, if you gave your vow to Gods, you have to carry it all out, if you don’t, it will strike you back. No, it won’t. His family is safe and he is Targaryen.

- Dragons… - Hm, the first word is a Dragon, what is with Targaryen Elves of all breeds and their Dragons, are they giving even birth to them or they are letting brood or breeding mares to do the same, or even their eggs as another fashion? – Shut it, Jaime, I am beginning to get a headache from you. – But, Brienne, he is coming back and forth with the awareness. – If I didn’t know better, I would say it is platonic love between you two, not friendship you share.

- You are jealous!? – No, he loves me more. – Now, you make me jealous, Jon doesn’t love you more than I love you, my Brienne. – He shared with me, on more than just one occasion. – Ah, yes…I remember. Well, you are mine, not his. – He has a wife. – I never took notice that ever stopped any Elf from claiming more. – Stop it, this is Jon Snow! – in fact, Jon shouldered thick connections with each of them, even if he never spoke a word with some, they are deeply connected, it doesn’t always end intimately or privately, Brienne was one of such people, including Bolton, everyone was around. Jon steadily opened his eyes, to perceive each one of fellowship. His people smiled hardily, back at him, whiles he addressed one by one, all 300 and some, henceforward, by heart.

- Dame Brienne – melting her heart - thank you for watching over me…my son is born…I – it pressured him because of her son and Jaime’s, but the people, specifically the certain two requited the love. – We are so happy for you – she is taken into Jaime’s embrace, at least, some good news, Jon deserved happiness, he wasn’t suffering less. His Elf irises fell on Sir Jaime, and the silence said it all, even without saying, not even reading for his mind was open for Jon who didn’t take advantage but looked upon Lord Roose Bolton, the closest he had of the father figure after the death of Ned Stark and the closest this man had of a son, after his abduction, for that bastard Elf stole him, and now he sided with the rest, yes, through Dandelion they found out every piece of chess.

- I will be great, Bolton. – Better be, boy. That little performance, I am disappointed, vastly it was a letdown – his dark and deep voice is holding the nuance of humor, and Jon could attest it through when it is spoken as the Black Humor. – I was that good, didn’t I? – I am Old Man, veteran and well-versed warrior, you may deceive with these pretty eyes of yours, since the day of your confession to us, but not for long and not myself. – You were always such a hardcore.

- At your disposal, my King – he kisses Jon on the sweaty forehead, rejoiced in the feeling until his eyes doesn’t fall on the Dragons and Rhaenyra. – Watch them. You have your Watch to keep, and you do it splendidly – she nods solemnly at her King. – My Watch is not ended yet, it is the beginning, Our Sire – then Honeybee and Syrax licked Jon a little, both were enamored by the Targaryen King until Ygritte and Lady came next who were nothing but Wolves and you to deny such a fact, that is heresy itself. – We are congratulating you for son and…the battle that could have been better – said Ygritte who was always so strict with him, even when she is still his little cub he claimed, smirking to both because they were such sweethearts, promising to Lady.

- Soon, sooner than you think, Lady. I smelt you. I know she hears you too, your howls – words perked Lady totally up, resembling the tiny pup rather than the war hound of the great that she was too. For now, the situation didn’t demand her curing properties by the ability of Direwolf tongues, Jon healed by himself, just as Valinor High Dogs of War, of werewolf blood, who are remedying themselves but are unable to heal others, while for the Direwolves, it all depended in comparison. That was both pro and con even for Matriarch of Wolves, from whom they all are sprouted, it is another thing that Elves played the role in the creations of their own Ents forests, including elven bloodhounds or wolfhounds evenly. The last, but never the least were their Elves, Hand of the King and their Guide/Healer. – I am more than glad to see you both so rejoiced. – You got us worried – Tauriel admitted by her lark voice and Haldir answered.

- I wasn’t so. I know you a little longer than them all, of your existential crisis – he winks which goaded Jon into a bright laugh, laughter brightly did shine, so the tears did show up also. Everyone else were taken by those tears.

Glistening upon the glistered twilight, thinking of Tauriel and Haldir. Somebody would consider their fates doomed. Yes, the Silvan are the outcasts, the outsiders of their kindred, still, they did things their ways, for the requirements are met by other styles, hence, gladdening them all so because he was f*cking marvelous out there. What power and capability against far experienced and mightier warrior Lord, it was unprecedented, for Jon was still so young. In his thirties. Geralt lived for 200 years and he saw, and he fought, but Jon was plainly someone else who bought his freedom back freely. If he is so powerful now, pushed beyond boundaries, what may you await in the near future if he lives? He reminded so much of his Uncle of Gondolin, that it was irony.

The same coin of the two sides. Many people say if Glorfindel were Dragon, he would be the unstoppable force that could eclipse God’s powers, for he already possessed godlike attributes. Who knows why God never permitted Glorfindel to outclass him, is it for the best or it must be so? Mimicry neighs and Jon with gentle care showered his love on him as well, or was it a girl? Dammit. Dwarves.

By the name of Eru, Dwarves were the most mysterious of all races of Arda. He tries to support himself by getting up, but there was his Pack who helped him to touch the ground with both feet, looking around, noticing that Geralt was tended by Yennefer who wasn’t bitter of the outcome. Geralt lost a battle, not war. Just because it is even, it doesn’t mean there is no room for advancement, this is what both they were in need for their growth, but gospel stands, Witcher has lost. The first time in his life. And he is glad, Jon took from him the choice. He chose instead him. The burden was lifted, so elevated from his broadened shoulders, he was tranquil. Failures.

People might not believe it, but they are the greatest teachers of all because he learned more from losing, than winning. In victory, you gain nothing real.

- How are you feeling? Your Grace – it was the most obvious change. From Bastard to Your Grace. – Fine, you? – Well, with a woman and friend at my side – he glances at brightened Dandelion who was returned to his Witcher and who now helps Yen who is also happy about the aftermath after all, before he eyed Jon anew – the love is in the air – such dignity in the failing, Jon had what to learn from him. – You are not a sore loser. – Why would I be? The winner takes it all, still, that is where her or his story ends, my continues – Jon was shoved into his immersive thinking. – You won’t stay with us? With me? For a little longer?
- Well. I lost – the two male voices are disciplined. - And I said it before, the Winner takes it all, which means, I am in your debt which I shall repay. – But…after? – I am Witcher. This battle taught me that I might be the best, but there is always someone who is better, you bested me at my own game, Jon. I take it. Yet, I am a free man. The Lone Dragon if that pleases you more. – But…you were paid. – And in an only way I may pay back is recompensation for the money I am owing, that is the Law of Surprise. I serve you until I don’t fulfill my duty. – I regarded you as the potential Northman – upon this Yennefer answers instead of her Witcher. – The Law is Law, Witcher is not slaved to no one. He serves no Kings and no Queens, he only answers to the one who pays him. He is the Warrior of Culture which prospered independently.

You don’t argue with her. There was no argument. Witchers do not bend the knee, not to even the Lord Maker. However, he had to ask her, now when he let the early and initial dissatisfaction of the answer passes by, subsiding and suppressing. Jon has got to find out how to put up with the answer No, when someone refuses him. Though, the matter was about these visions he has got and who would explain him better than the Dragon Sorceress, whose mightiness and unbound bounds are remaining to be seen. Where Witcher is sent, so is she, for the Witcher choses his Sorceress or the Sorcerer to accompany him. This one was quite preferable with her thicker shades in the voice, making her far more sensual than all the societies of theirs. Together.

- Wombs. What do you know about them, Lady Yennefer? – surprising with the question all but her. – Just Yen, I am not touchy about titles, Jon, so shouldn’t you be – she offered something new, indeed which took him aback. – Well…Yen…you stay too, right?

- Where is this idiot, I am there also and even him – pointing at lost Dandelion in space, Jon snickers secretly at Geralt’s face he has gifted to her, so he isn’t the only, so good – but that is not why you ask me Dragon about the Wombs, right? You had a vision of one, didn’t you? And Dandelion, stop staring at Geralt like you will swallow him. – I was anxious about his well-doing. – Was, now you are un – anxious.

- That isn’t even a word! – Oh, spare me, well…Jon to put it simple – she gives her undivided attention to King. – It is growing, that is how it all starts. All Elven Ladies, Mistresses, Masters, Lords and the Others, or the Great Other, for this is how aliens are by you humans, yes you, addressed, and by the time you either survive or not…it will be the full grown battleship of stars. – I regarded them as sentient beings who require…humans and their…blood and all that goes with it. – Wrong. Humans make Wombs for what they are, but you may be…different - she winks – and who knows, you may find another planet for your humans, some identical or the twin Earth.
- I would be able to do so? To even traverse!? – on the higher level they were speaking to one another, whilst people just followed what ensued the next. – Name it, whenever it is, it will know its name, you shouldn’t be caught by surprise by anything anymore, nor your Pack with yours or all of the North who has a lot more to ascertain – it came to him. Galactica.

Battlestar, yes, it sounded nice even to her who folded her arms across ample bosom. Yes, he was pondering, deeply and even darker immersed in his thought. She was finished, a faint smile was on her full lips drawn, oh Jon, if you only knew, this was just the beginning, as your Little Lady pointed it out, but that is another story of which many are familiar, no stranger to it. You will breed humans as Glorfindel does. One way or the other. This life or another. In the various varieties of dimensions or you will create a path for them to be preserved. You shall send Angels to guide them. Cast either in the image of the one who destroys or protects, it is your will you are willing unto. You shall be behind their lives and synthetic life they build in a name,

Cylons.
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What is the realm, neither King or Throne, when there is the entire Universe of projected Dreamers to project and dream.
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Thank you, my love, Sigrid is overflowed by the sensations how the purest set of wings are taking her into the velvety of loving embrace...in a dream. She wore a smile in the true reality.
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Sansa, for that time, is unearthing all his black experiments on tortured souls of captured Hobbits, underground battle enormities, and the Plan the Dark Lord intended, all just for her...
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Where Witcher is called, he follows…

Chapter 168: Night King and Jon

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Yours is the day of the Sun, ours is the shade of the Night. Echo that is lost in the stirring of magic. Take her to my chambers…where you step, the wilted flourishes, where you go, all follow and the seed grows. Talion stays nevertheless, for Celebrimbor has no one but him. For Sansa, the mark fades and no pregnancy.

What is hiding under the Dark Lord’s guise. Meanwhile, fearless Brienne and her husband, regaining hale to themselves in all parts of their psyche and body, but like all of them, they never fail not to remember. The Pack was back on the track with the additional and temporary members of their fellowship, but as soon as they advanced further, Yennefer was sensing it, even smelling from afar.

If before the nature was silent, now all is amplified. Because the Woods grew so quiet that it was intensifying the emotions of animals which are running away, leaving the murky forests, waters are still, no life and no fish. Geralt’s catlike yellow eyes are on Yennefer. Something bedeviled her and it was the omen. He halts and upon doing it, the rest of the colony are halting as well, in the similar rhythm. Jon glances back to see what is going on. Was it necessary to enquire or they will receive their answers? He was fearing the worst. For such a long time they were evading, was it coming to that. Jon hesitated to set a question.

- Lady Sorceress… - Jon’s voice which resembled more the elven one, than the broken violin evermore, for it was recognizable, is evoking in all of the present folk, the appalling dread of something the most sinister in him, the one thing that laid dormant and untapped…the King of the Night.

- They are coming for us, Jon Snow. They are coming. What now? We viewed it through Dandelion too on the moment of our reunion. It is One Ring and its Master. But who is the Owner, that is pretty smarter to question. So, where is your…legion or forces? The one you have concealed from even your Pack? – people are turning to Jon for the answer and he has none. Bolton has spoken. – If there is something you want to share with us, the time was never riper. Jon – and the King meets the rare grey eyes of Bolton, inwardly, he realized the truth that Jon was skulking, for all this time, even from himself. – Jon…have you harnessed the power of Night King? We bore the witness when you both fused into each other, and we believed…for there are but mere 300 of us, and merely the extras…there is the army, right? – with every question, Jon was withdrawing into himself, asking in exchange for the response of what they hungered to hear. Geralt sighed out in secret. He knows what is going to be and Yennefer together with Dandelion couldn’t fathom it. – What do you want me to say, I will say it. Lord Bolton, if that will have you calmed.
- Jon…we came this far…believing…I mean…we are out of any troop in respect to Martell, during all the situations and circ*mstances where the promise to the Citadel prevailed opposed to yours – never before he sounded so despairing as he was at that instant, and it wasn’t Jon who did it, it was Bolton’s human heart. – Jon…tell us…there is…the horde? – White Walkers? – Yes! We all witnessed it, watched it, we know what awaits and…you are ready.

- Have you seen that the waters are not frozen, it is still hot and humid, spring came and went, but the Winter is not back. Winter isn’t coming. I can’t…I am incapable…if I do…then… - Bolton grabbed Jon. – For the Love of God, child, yes…I am calling upon him or her, whatever…Jon…what is wrong with you?! – I trusted that – he looks down, then up into the man’s irises which are widening with his every word – that the fortune favors the bold – Bolton let him go. – You brought us here, this far, so that you can tell us that you risked all our lives on the miracle?! – I have no power! – YOU NEVER f*ckING TRIED!

- I shall lose myself to it, betray once more, this is different, what you ask of me… it is HERESY! It will turn against you all! – JON! STRIGAS ARE AT OUR THROATS and all what you can think is what limits you just because you want to stay the way you are?! You are far too mistaken to have that privilege. Jon Snow! YOU HAVE THE POWER! – NO, I DON’T! – the two man shrieked at one another. – Waters are not freezing! Snow is melting at every turn. I am struggling, but the Night King is silent!

- You are the Nigh King!

- The bond is not complete. The Night King is the Hurin blood, the real blood of Starks, and it he doesn’t listen, he is wrought out of bloodstained tragedies which are aimed at Glorfindel. When Gondolin fell, and now is rebuilt far fairer and sturdier, like we did the favor to the Heart of the Elven Realms, the Night King refuses to listen to me! I reach, I attempt, I suffer, but it is never enough! When it will be?! – and Bolton understood what is happening. For the maiden time of his spring’s life, Jon Snow did stall, because he was frightened by himself. – Jon, listen to me…you can do it. – Winter comes with the White Walkers, I can’t summon them, for the f*ck’S SAKE. I GAVE EVERYTHING!

- I COULD CARE LESS WHAT YOU GAVE! For all I care. We demand THE BLOOD OF DRAGON, OF WOLF, WHAT ARE YOU?! – Bolton grapples at Jon. – Leave me alone! – Jon resists. - Speak to the Devil! WE NEED HIM! We want Jon Snow! Not this pathetic incarnation of his. We desire and strive, aspire for the Conqueror, Jon Snow! Do not betray us, not your sister.
- I will keep the promise. We have dragons! – THEY ARE INSUFFICIENT! You had them both, and still, you lost Sand Queen! You failed, Jon. YOU FAILED! I ask you…go and fail again! – these words…had the man to whom the words belonged been here to spoke them, it would have even grander effect, but this was Bolton and it was interpreted by another meaning. In Jon something did break and it wasn’t Wolf or Dragon, it was human. Bolton seized the opportunity. – DO IT. DO IT. We believe in you. We lay our trust on you. Jon Snow.

What could he do?! He has to claw deep into himself, much deeper and find the one whom he needs to speak with. Distancing himself, alienating never more, but estranging he did when he closed his eyes. Just like before, back then, when he didn’t have any faith in humanity, not in himself, not even his family. At one point of his life, he lost it all. For he betrayed himself. Seeing for the first time what Night King did, how the torture after the torture of good people never brought to him nothing but the emptiness in the long run. Because he experienced no remorse, and no mercy. For what is there to expect? Due to the reason that told even to the monsters which knew their inhumanity and the worldviews are the unique perfection like no other. Rare.

- How long did it pass, since that final time? You forgot who you are, what you might be and so, I am forgotten too. I am not the Winter as God Elf, I am the one who brings the cold of the emotion. So, I ask you again. For how long you were the boy? – Night King asked Jon Snow, grumbling in the low tones. – How much do you aim to pass, this time on a warm land you still have. You are Monster. You shouldn’t live. You retaliation is death. I want you dead, for I don’t know you. I don’t recognize you. Night King – the creature of the night shades came into the light, to see this human elf, with the human elven heart and to hear how he speaks humanly of ethereally, spiritual realms.

- Your belief is still the same. Give someone death and that is the justice for it. – What is it then? What is it not?! – Fool. When you die, you are free, you are still Elf, you will never be able to go where they go. To your family, you are mortal, but still with the longevity. – My essence will prolong their lives, and I… - And you will die, but you can’t follow. Jon. You are Elf. Jon. My dear boy. You are the one I have come for, for my Hurin bloodline is tainted by your existence. You took it. I had strived to take it back, what you have taken! From me! From pureness of bloodlines. You are ABOMINATION! Abnormality. You are the phenomenon I hunger to extinguish!

- I thought so. Well, you got stuck with me although I am the evil you disdain the most. I am everything you have sought to destroy. – I sold my humanity so that you will be the f*cking hybrid, bastard!
Jon chuckled, yes, that is it. The comprehension between the being that knew him the best. That is the reason he didn’t have any desire to confront him.

- You think that I love my life? Huh? Night King? – You eat, drink, sh*t, dream and sleep…rather randomly now, the elven blood of Targaryens won’t save you from the Feanorian curse. From all Original’s sins. It has its cons and pros. Some are waning the flow of life for the sinned, others are replenishing the dreamers, those are reimagined versus the primordial, from whom you have originated. Oh, dearest boy. How foolish and silly you have been until now. – Give me the power, let us partake and share. Give it to me. Night King. I will take good care of you, as you were of me, till this moment. – What is there left to protect? – Life. You want Life above all else. The death is just your instrument. Give it pure.

Dreamstate, dreaming with the pupils wide open, thick with virtues, no flaws. It was done. All what they need to do is to wait. Jon unconsciously brought his hands up, imitating the Night’s movements. People weren’t breathing for the half of second, they are anticipating. All of them. Come on, come on! Finally, they enraptured into the exhilarating and thrilling choruses. The heated soil under Jon’s feet, was getting frozen. Oh My God! He actually did it. He invoked them and the White Walkers answered the call against Strigas! They are coming out into the existence, brought into the being from the oblivion and elsewhere, not farther, the umbilical cords are hauled. Into the silenced trees, reverberating are Shrieks. Strigas drew nearer.

Chapter 169: War schemes and what do you want or expect from life

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They are readying their base for the Impact. Couldn’t catch, especially the human ones, any sleep. Because of the gruesome voices which would have waking them up every time it was possible or whenever the soul wished to reclaim some rest. Along with the rest. Our Blood is in you, changed you…Lannister, as half of Dragonheart from your King. You are, Brienne, bonded to Lady, until you don’t return her Mistress, but never will. In dreams of theirs, the fell creatures of the shadow lands are assailing. Besieging from each corner of the possibility. Tongues are needless to us, to hear your thoughts, but, traditions uphold the meaningful life. Jester. Clown. Barbarian, Priestess, Witch. With a stare to move mountains. The hand is risen to silence. Silence, lower it, making the sign while the waters are freezing. Bolstering and securing they were the very first and maiden strongpoints of their center. But it was proving to be too difficult, the more they are struggling against the odds which were countered in opposition to them. Awful so.

- Ygritte? – Yes, Lady? – under the purple reddish eaves, both Wolves of Lore were shadowing the preparations for the incoming Apocalypse, this is how it looked to both. – I am troubled. – Why don’t you learn the human speech or some universal, common tongue, you could have done it by now? Why do you keep using telepathy? – I do not want to trouble myself even with that, but the truth is, why would I? I am Wolf. And I am uncertain if I am going to succeed together with Tauriel to heal everyone with the same wounds over and over again or with the multiple at once. Who knows… - You were never concerned before.

- Before we were just…you know…assaulted but this is the onslaught we are waiting for. I feel like the lamb before the slaughter. – We mention that much those lambs that people will stop eating them. – That is like…wrong? – Beautiful indoctrination nevertheless. You would be the perfect for conditioning anybody. – Stop jesting. – I am serious! – Ah, and why aren’t you more in your human body anymore? – I believe that is how it suits me rather better and it is preferable, the last time I was in my human body, Dragons befall us. I promised to myself, as long as there is the danger and particularly now in Mordor, I am not shapeshifting until…well…till I die, perhaps, it is never boring. – You are mightier than I am. – So? What does it have to do anything? – You may make the long lasting effect than I, more damage. – And you are saving lives while I am taking. Tell me, who is the winner in the long run? – You know that everyone just pays attention to the strength. – And what is the achieved strength? Nothing but the illusion, you can be killed. Remember, Lady, this is what I taught from Arya Stark. ANYONE CAN BE KILLED. – Even God? – Even God if you slay him in yourself. Even, God, so do not concern yourself much with what is coming, but what is at the present. – I am in fear, the great one.

- Why?! – Ygritte looks into her much more profoundly. – What if I never see my Sansa again? I want to live with her, to share life. – You will. – How do you know?! – her ears are up in amusem*nt and hopeful expectation. – Trust me, YOU WILL IF THAT IS THE LAST PROMISE I MAKE TO YOU – the peace is ensuing, and after a moment or two. – Thank you, Ygritte. – You are welcome. – You are a true friend. – You too. – And…I have one more doubt. – And that is?! – Would the White Walkers come with those dead horses of theirs to us? – I am not so certain. Mordor doesn’t allow something that is already dead to enter, you may die here and forever to wander between death and life, but the dead, no. – Jon can’t wake up the Dead? – I don’t think so. He doesn’t want to, he is…well...he is not a sad*st or the gorgon. – He is using just the advantages. – Exactly that.

Since the talk was complete, through Mordor only one theme was being played in each heart. The sound of Game of Thrones. The trumpets and drums were relentless, so restless to beat their odds. The world’s map was being studded and dotted by the small footsteps, from Eregion to where the Pack was positioned or better to say, entrenched, for those were the longest trenches ever delved by the Northerners and by the reinforcements in the form of Witcher and his team, alongside the Elves while the Wolves kept their Watch as the Wolf people, all the way to the hour when they were from time to time, beckoned to come and help, either by pulling or just holding. Jon Snow was taught a lot by Robb Stark in their dreaming conversations, and tactically he has to approach something as big as this was. First of all, he has to have his own footing, where the army will fall back when it comes to the brink, he can’t just charge in or then call people to fall back.

Of course, there are Dragons and everyone else, but this was the menace of which they are not informed, unfamiliar and never before fought against, or ever opposed. There were songs how Strigas could leap so high that they are reaching Dragons and ripping through their dragonscale hides the whole hearts, eating them while fighting, learning through the war. You never know. His nerves were strained, but he was present more than ever, taking every heed or advice into consideration, and so, he came to the decision. Trenches. But not the underground, which could lead down, but up, always up above. And so, throughout the lines of lines, one after one, rows upon tree orders, the similar moats and ditches were being established, deep as the roots, and higher than the normal human. In there they will hold not only the Last Stand, but stave off, warning the Striga hordes off too as the defense and attack.

He was taught that the best defense is to attack. No, he has to do it both. Perhaps, he will never be as good as Robb Stark as tactician or strategist, because Robb Stark never lost a single battle, but Jon is the one who wants to WIN A WAR and this is how he approached it. In one of the camp sites, which were founded as the main headquarters he was holding the war council.
- Lord Bolton, tell me, how many men you are left with at your disposal, have they survived mentally and would you be able to manage from the higher trees to defend those who are in the mildew trenches situated? – after a minute or two, for this is how much the seasoned veteran requested to piece it all together. – My Banners of Dark Angel will be the highest then for Celebrimbor even to see from far away with his eyes of Elf – Jon smirks, yes, that is that North’s pride even in the face of perseverance and the threatening absolute defeat of theirs, they have to hold on until the White Walkers don’t come.

- Yes, My Lord – Jon answers and Lord Bolton retorts. – Very well, then. With my fifty men of the best archers and one hundred of swords, my bulk of 300 and so, is the biggest and prime, that means, I will fortify myself as you said here and here, but the point blanks would be at my blades who would be in the same trenches from this another side, I believe I am able to fend off or force back even the most treasonous attacks just by the sheer precision and Will and if the worst happens, lead them all down to emerald river, if songs are true, Strigas as White Walkers can’t swim, that would be our salvation and we are marching as the vanguard first to be sighted by Hollin (elven name for Eregion) forces and Celebrimbor himself, which means – he looks up at Jon Snow – we are breaching strong their elven borders and my small troop of Boltons will break through and lay siege at Eregion’s fortress. Is that it? You aim to get us as the leading conquerors in this conquest of yours, is that it? – Jon’s glint in the eye told him all what he needs to be aware of - but under one condition, My King. – Ask and you will be granted.

- I ask for Tauriel and Haldir to be with me, at my side, they are the excellent bow people and Elves whose agility is surpassing ours. – I may give you Haldir, not Tauriel, she is Healer. – I see… - She must stay here. I need her with Lady, for the support – one voice broke the creepy sound of silence. – I will go! – they turned and glanced upon…Dandelion? – Hey, ask my pal, the Witcher, God knows I am lousy with the sword, but give me a bow and you have no problem and my Song can be added to it as well. So, what do you think? – I take him – Roose has turned to Jon in the mutual consent, but then, Dandelion asks.

- You are so sure that you are about to penetrate through them, why is that? – Jon smirks again, Roose responds. – Boy, I am not sure. I KNOW. We are Boltons. – What does it mean, actually? – It means, that the North is as strong as there are Boltons and under my command are also those from House Karstarks and Freys, so you see, we are not your regular armies, we are professionals. Why you maybe sported your skills, we are trained for one only purpose. The War.

The people who were seated around the round hearth were grinning nonetheless. Give to Bolton a war, and you have given them all. War is their Name.

- Dandelion, every Bolton man or woman was rarely ever captured by Elves, they either died in battle or they commit suicide, but you will never get them unless there is Higher Force behind. Each of men or women are disciplined hard and are worth ten times over than the standard which implies, that one Bolton in the army, equals ten men, the best of the best. Boltons are our professional legions – you didn’t have to be smart to acknowledge what Jon Snow was saying, Lannister clears his throat.

- What about us? – You Jaime and Brienne, you both take the main body of the storm. You alone. But my Ygritte will be with you while I will, jointly with Rhaenyra, ride our dragons, for the time being, the Dragon Sorceress and the Witcher are at the front lines. This is how they advised me. Let them go first, so they will, as the moment of surprise. And concerning our horses, they are sheltered by the built up ditches, let them stay in there, we will free them if there is the call for those who are battling on foot – Brienne had to question it. – Is that wise? What if there is no one to set them or Mimicry free? – Then, it heralds the end. Our Dame, and the least we can hope for is that White Walkers will do the rest for us. Whoever survives, leads what or who remains. Odds are faith.

It went unanswered, all the while on the opposite side of their War Council, the Dragon Sorceress is tested to give everything to this battle. She led them many, but this one was different, always is. Witcher is observing how she is massing the fire element from the nature, and this was Mordor. He can’t even begin to imagine, never to commence, just how much it will be like everything else, the vital to the victory or ruin. Meantime, Katniss was without any breath. Both her and Grey Worm had the difficulties, clambering hills and cliffs with the male goat that bears the female name, Kiki and who produces the milk, the cusp of fantasy realm, howsoever, they came to the agreement, the Pact is forged. She aims and he hardened was to protect!
*
I am Coming, I am coming, Snow…Mockingjay hurry! The Wheel of Thrones is turning…to whom it will preside? Dames and Sirs are to find out soon.

Chapter 170: Ride with us, sided parties of Witcher and Dragon Sorceress

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Sacrament is the Throne of the World. Yennefer was studying it through all of her journey of life, even when she is travelling with the Witcher. And there it was, firstly, it was nothing to see or hear, but then, it was taking place. The sounds weren’t from this world, it was sinister, no shrilling yet, and the shaded figures were in the plain sight, during the dusky sunset, approaching. She gasps. Witcher reacts. Next to her, both are estimating what came!

- What do you say about this, Yen? – Geralt, look at them, they are crawling, nesting into each other. – What does it mean? I fought them, this is something unexplained. I can’t explain it, Yen. – Breeding among selves. – Impossible. Strigas are made, created, not born. They are formed and shaped. – These ones…are those…tentacles? – No…it can’t be. What are these abominations?!

- I don’t know. – How much do we have? Your eyes are better than mine, see farer. – Well, three hours in the least, but they are nearing fast. And they multiply even faster, like when the cows are sounding the most grotesquely when they are both giving birth and arriving for the pasture. – Are those grazing lands and water meadows? – They call them grasslands of the crimson soil. – Have you massed your powers from it too?

- I did and have. – By your assessment, how many are there and how many you may hold off? – That would be the burning shield and they will burn likewise, cleansing their souls into the Afterlife. To the Halls of Mandos. And…there is about…2…no…3.000.000 Strigas. Yes. More or less… - the whole life flashed through his mind. Is this where he is going to die, but owing the debt, wasn’t the Witcher’s way. He gave the word to fight for Jon’s cause, for the North and so it shall be.

- You haven’t answered. For how much you may stand off, Yennefer? – she is assessing. – I may hold…one million of them and maybe a half more, no more – so…that was it. Even for that number, Yennefer is going out of her comfort zone. – When do you begin, Yen?

- Right away. – Do I…warn others? – Elves already know, they would inform them. – I don’t see they have done it, I don’t sense it, why?! – Because of humans, if they know…that 300 of them, are fighting off…the 3 million of Strigas…well, even the most encouraged and spirited would become demoralized in the matter of seconds. – You think so low. – I don’t. I have my human part, and Targaryen, but…- she lifts her head up at him, to look into him – even I feel fear – the two shared the moment. – You need a high ground, Yen – his husky voice is arousing her, and so she is him.
- I know. Everything is going to burn. – I am unburnt. – But I may control the fire, as well as I am the same as you…we do not burn and for Strigas, the Fire Wall and its effect will impact even the most willed. – Ladies first – her full lips are taking a shape of the smile, causing for him to smile in turn. The Fire Wall will be the warning. Everyone is waiting. Upon the higher ground, she was seeing much further and this was it. Without hesitation, with no restraint, for Yen’s fire doesn’t compensate. It counters the real Dragon Flames.

The Witcher is whirling his enchanting chains and the whip is readied so. After a second or two, the Fire Wall of the highest trees and even above was reaching the clouded skies. The Fire Wall was the size of the North’s Wall, wide and broad. Jon and other people were left in awe and wonder, so this was Yennefer of Vengerberg. She was channeling all of her might like it was the speck of dust, the control of hers is absolute, here was no any mistake!

- Wow – it was all what Rhaenyra, their Little Lady could utter, and in her eyes of the Targaryen Elf, humanly were aflame the irises – Dad, Mom, she is truly Dragon Sorceress! Look at the girth of it! – Brienne thaws every single time, she was no longer Aunty, the girl knew what they both needed, what her soul was claiming and demanding. Will she ever be the same? Did she change so much?! Jaime did, she did, but the essence is the same, the pain will transform them, turn more human than before. For she is addressing her as such, having the other way around when the little princess is being endeared so, of silver and lions. The very identical of what a father feels as well, but Fire Wall, looks outlandish.

Jon alongside everyone else were witnessing such a miracle. Yennefer can hold it as long as it was needful, but it all depends upon the assailing force of Strigas, but she will hold. She shall prevail. And the first signs of the shrills and blood soaking shrieks were deafening and blaring even elven sensitive ears. The initial wave of Strigas assaulted fiercely and with no remorse. Witcher and Yennefer at the core were fending them off, pushing back and even dispelling. Witcher then was striking simultaneously all the around, he was spinning his witching irons and the leather whips, keeping them at the arm’s length. No fear, no intimidation, deadening their first tide. Not allowing to pass more than necessary. But it was proving to become improbable.

One side of Fire Wall he used to his advantage, and each time they were throwing themselves at him, he would pull them into the blazing fires, and they were aflame, they flamed, they burned. Their dying and cleansing spirits were flying to Mandos. Up to now, he got rid of 30, then 50, then 60, after it, even hundred, and hundred turned to hundreds, until it wasn’t the thousands, all the time, no rest and no ceasing of adrenaline. This was the Battle of all Battles. Not the Last, but the penultimate.
His sweating body was sweltering the sultriness even more, and she was getting angrier for she senses that she is weakening, sapping her strength. No, it won’t! Appearing that the Fire Wall is reaching its heyday. She even broadened as much as it was probable, the sole width of it and Jon, for the first time, had to admit. Targaryens. They are assholes, but they were really something else. All them!

- Lord Bolton! The second flickering is on the way! – We are tensed and ready! – he looks back. – Archers! Knock, Draw…LOOSE! – above Jon the flying arrows which are filled with poison and the flaming powder which they carried for the last resorts, were exploding and booming all around, the next were spears and lances, even the small javelins, all above Jon’s head, who had faith in them, and not only that, their accuracy and punctuality were second to none.

He trusted them so that it was unbelievable, and when the Strigas reached. The traps of the spiked snares were awaiting and after that, Jaime and Brienne rushed, some of them on horses, other people on foot, whilst Boltons never ceased to shoot right into the hearts, never missing and never hitting one of theirs. In the heat of the battle, Boltons were the only people in the North who could hit any target even when their warriors are amongst the mingled crowd. How did they do it? From such distances? No one could tell no matter how many times to witness.

Ramsay Bolton was able to send into the air any arrow and it will land precisely where he deemed, no matter the distance, when he misses, he misses ON PURPOSE. And with the gifted bows and arrows of Jon’s birth father, he should be what he is, the most invincible when his arrows are in his hands, far better than when he is fighting with weapons or barehanded. Fully was coming to the fruition when from the other battle fronts, Bolton succeeded to not only pierce through but to join Jaime and Brienne, after he attested that there is no more what to shoot at, they were out of arrows.

Now, the swords remained along with lances. All 300 were and so, are battling what appeared the most gruesome creatures, but the adrenaline worked to their vantage and the overwhelming sense of dread was evanesced, the Striga’s screams and hideousness, are turned into the meat and bone for them to stab, slash and cut. Jaime was rapturous, in him and Brienne was evoked all what they together buried. This was for their losses. For his son, for their baby. Brienne at one point jumped from the horse and after all demonization of Strigas, she didn’t see a demon, she just viewed the evil that must be vanquished and with bare hands, she hits and hits, and hits, and hits, and regardless that Striga was stronger, faster and agiler than her, Brienne’s mother instincts kicked full in and the Hell knows no fury like the woman scorned, for she was DENIED THE MOTHERHOOD. Her bloodied eyes after everything she gave are fruitless.
Because of this barren and accursed soil! Not even realizing that Jaime is having her back, protecting whiles she took all the vengeance to a bloody pulp.

- Brienne, get up, girl, get up, my woman! – You need some help out there!? – she screams, covered in blood. – Bolton and I counsel you to draw back with the rest of the troop. Stay in the trenches! – he had just sliced down with the Lion’s cutting edge what remained of the Striga, seeing for himself that one of them, held his son’s face, Joffrey. He went mad out of craziness and hurt. Killing it with bare hands, strangling. Brienne was a witness not to a broken man but to the rise of the lion. Taking destiny into his own hands. He was just a man, but he strangled, smothered the beast with nothing but hands, barehanded indeed.

And Joffrey was liberated. What force was awoken that day in Jaime, no one could tell for sure, but it was real. Both got the satisfaction, for this was not vengeance, it was JUSTICE. And she did as she was commanded, pulling people out, who once again, stayed all alive miraculously. God was on their side, all 300, but the head bulk followed Lord Bolton who was breaching Striga’s hordes, how? By flaying them. That was it, once he started flaying, every time some of them fell, the tenth lengths of Striga were down too, and Boltons as they were taught, were peeling and skinning the beasts with such effectiveness, that it was the Art to watch, the flayed corpses who were strung up. In those moments, when the armies of Lannister, Tarth and Bolton are joined, it was proven to be most vital.

Then and there, the Dragon flames from another dimensions, were spreading the Hellfires, Jon and Rhaenyra were expressing their Dracarys, piercingly.

- DRACARYS! – Honeybee who grew anew, until he lives, the hide is sturdier and with Rhaenyra and her Syrax, it is no different, both were the dominating potency on the battlefield. Thanks to them, Roose went through with his men, Dandelion and Haldir by his side, marching without any restraints at Eregion! Dragon flames encircled them, and they were in the halls of the blazing flames sprinting straightly with their standards high and blaring horns singing.

They are arriving, reaching… it will take some time, but together with Dandelion and Haldir, they will reach Hollin’s Gates!
While Mimicry, King’s horse got vexed, but chilled down the riding companions, acting as the bastion of the Wall for those who waited for their riders. Jaime succeeded to the fronts, battle lines, joining with his people Witcher and Sorceress, at that hour and in that place, Witcher saw something in Jaime Lannister, it was just the vision, only that, but it did cross his mind, a vanishing glimpse and he smiled, for he was Glad, so...
That will be you. Continuing with Lannister to wrestle their prospects all the while Honeybee was utterly tasting the feel that multi - dimensional portals are maybe not unnecessary to both of them, for maybe it would be better they utilized them, for the sharper control, for the two are losing their stability, some of Strigas nearly reached them, so high and so scary. Still, he spread wildfires, and she her turquoise flames. Dracarys! Intensifying all the Games.

- Lady, come here! – Tauriel is calling for Lady who was right by her side. – Please, I need your lick, thank you! – I am going on the other front, hang in there! – Lady acceded with Tauriel who was giving all what she has got as well as Lady to heal as swifter and as efficient as there was the probability, from the distance, She – Elf is watching how Ygritte is snapping heads and in all blood that will be washed by the rains of on her coat are getting dried. Biting off in continuation, watching Jaime’s back. All was organized and to the detail orchestrated, but the Third EBB was there, it was here, advancing. This they won’t sustain. Hoping for the White Walkers or they won’t maintain the same dance, for long.

Looking up into the twilight sky, it was such a beautiful night, twinkling were the stars as they were waving down on her, albeit she is engulfed in both protection and healing process, she was praying for that marvel, to which Jon was praying too, even in his swarming thoughts, he is present at the state that they will not hold out. Where are you?! We are at our peaks! In the meantime, Dandelion with both his instrument and without, exploits his song in all this madness, even as he claimed, he had shot the prey, but the Song helped also, proving he was not some pushover and Haldir is drawing on his Elf Magic, by enforcing it through the course of the Great Battle, decimating and felling those who stood in their path. Laying waste whiles Boltons march.

Chapter 171: Reminiscing

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Nausea. Her woman’s body was weak, she wants to vomit. Taking a break and closing the eyes didn’t help. Grey Worm is calling to her, giving water to drink, she is refusing. It was fresh and from the spring, the only they could have found without being infected with the infestation of all diseases, but she couldn’t take any longer this humidity, so hot, heat, it was driving her all mad. She can’t listen. She fought far too hard. Kiki, through whom, Rowena was speaking couldn’t do anything to bring her to the sanity, she was delusional and feeling this was the end of her. No, it was Mordor. Her mission was to protect, she failed, to bring, she rejects One Ring, and now, it was time to pay. Mordor, the Shadow lands do not forgive. Grey told her.

- Katniss! Drink, eat something! – I can’t…I am weak – barely speaking through the chapped lips. – Weak?! Do you hear yourself!? You are like me. You are Unsullied! Unsullied are strong, stubborn, we do not give up, we do not give in, irrespective of our odds, regardless of everything, Unsullied always had what to fight for. I remember all my past life, another one, and I am telling you. You are my sister! You are the Unsullied, and I will RATHER kill you than allow you to shame yourself! You are Everdeen, doesn’t it mean anything to you! – she is crying. – Take my bow and arrows, lead Kiki and Rowena, you still have got time. – No. You will do it. You hear me, Kat? You will. – This is too much of the burden…Mordor, this red land is killing me. – Burden? I can’t carry it for you, but I may you! Come on! – With no hesitance, he took her in the unsullied arms and put over his staunch back. Katniss was languid, feels exhaustion and her limbs are lax. Can’t move her head, not even raise it.

Rowena from her room was doing the next enchantment, for Kat just broke, Mordor, it has to be done something about it. Garnering her psionic power.

- Kiki, no…Rowena, my daughter – he spoke to confusing goat who always bleats wrongly – are you doing something about this situation? She is down, I repeat, she is down. Mockingjay is being purposely wearied. – Dad, I am doing it as best as I can, to the best of my abilities, there are seals and runes, just stay tuned.

- I will – until then, he was suffering flashes, flares and blazes in his mind. Fire it. How it sounds nice, when you belong and someone belongs, merely the sound, it warms the insides. Our people. Warm bubble baths, someone is washing him. There was no animals to hunt much, reserves are used up, still they manage something with no manipulation. Yes…this is what he is receiving, it was from another man, his thoughts and feelings. Mordor is attacking him presently.
No, he won’t submit to it, he won’t stumble. Never to deter. It was becoming heavier, his sweat was eating him alive, breathing shakily. Then, he hears him. People say, once you heard him via your mind and listen to him how he vibrates through your head, you are slowly drawn to the madness. Harder and heavier all becomes. His water in the eyes was alight, inflaming his fears he didn’t permit to conquer him. He is unconquered, his own person, and Dark Lord manifested. In golden chains you will be brought to my Dark Throne of Rings, at the foot of it, sealed and slaved as you are…Unsullied. You can’t defeat me. You are nothing.

You are a mere slave who belongs to bonds of iron. Grey Worm. You remain to be a slave. You are serving the Queens, the Huntresses, but never yourself. Leave Katniss to me, give her blood, kill her, bring me her heart. Carve it out and I will spare you. You will earn your right at my side. Be mine, Grey Worm, slay the Mockingjay. She is a strong woman, but look at her, so weakened she is. Consumed. And so you will be with your family. Think of Missandei, you want her head, part of her or whole?! You have this opportunity to share life and live with her, and you are throwing it all, because of this bastard child of the Huntress and Mockingbird. She was my sigil, now, she is replaceable. I am your Lord, you are my slave, all of you, are my slaves to do my bidding and as I see fit. I hear and see you all, all in you what I crave is incarnated, you are the perfection for slavery.

You are born to serve others. You see, this world is full of slaves, contemporary or the past ones. Nonetheless, servants and thralls are the backbones upon which the empires are risen up. You don’t see, because you look away. You don’t want to hark, because it is the truth. There are people who are served and to whom you deliver. You have no freedom. Never the real one.

Ah, you are noticing the Fire Wall, so close. Encompassing reaches from the West, to the East borders, remember how you brushed lovingly noses together, altogether with Missandei, your loving memory. You watch her nakedness. Your child waits. Are you going to leave your daughter fatherless? Why are you selfish? You ran away, like a cowering man you are, about to see. Nudity was no stranger to you, you were.

What a beautiful slave, woman she is. The enslavement suited her. The shackles suit the humans who are beneath those who are fittest and strongest between all, that is the Order of the Wheel. Suddenly, the sudden drop of rain hit his forehead. He rises his head, it was the shimmering revitalization, from all nooks, he is thrilled, laughing out loud. Eru. God sent it! The rain, the blissful and gentle one that won’t put out any fire but enough to revitalize all that was broken, withered and left to die out. And the voice was renounced. It was Eru Iluvatar. Thank you, Allfather.

I am your child too, experiencing the epiphany in the image of Yavanna. One of the Ainur, her satin voice is resonating.
- Thralldom doesn’t suit to anyone. Your child, the daughter is powerful – upon saying it, the cleansing rain has stopped. So, it was her! Rowena! His Rowena invited one of the Ainur to save them! Nienna, the Goddess of wisdom, tears and mercy showed up too, beside Yavanna. The Teacher of Great Gandalf the Grey who is embodying Rhaenyra’s pendant with which she was endowed as the gift, the only precious Sam had, the first founding stone of the Wall which his family over the centuries held in possession, it was now hers. Also it was reacting to Rowena’s cry. To aid her friend and father. Remarkable.

For incredibly he did feel, watching the jointed Ainur against the One Ring. They did care, but they can act upon only when the human hearts are their truest selves. He glances at Kiki, through whom, he is seeing how his daughter’s eyes are staring back, perceiving what is right there in the center, revealing what is underneath, for both Ainur gave their flaring blessings and guided him where is the fortitude they have to reach. Soon, with Kiki, he achieved to wake up Katniss, for her to regain her senses back, her strength, it is truly when you think about it, one of the greatest happiness we take so lightly for granted. Upon disappearances of both charming Ladies, Kiki told by his daughter’s voice to take her milk and feed it to the Huntress, did so.

- This was it, by all means! – thinking back to, inviting to his mind, invoking what she said, just how much the goat’s milk of any kind may be the sustenance that will nourish her back to life. Both forgot for Kiki was drained, but here it is, the milk as much as you wanted! – Oh, thank you, Kiki, my Rowena – from the other side of sphere, the tiny girl was happy while Katniss lastly opened her eyes to the fullness of time, smiling so.

Together, all three are continuing the journey. She listens to what he is consulting her. What the Ainur told him to do it. She can’t trust it, her ears at all.

- You saw them?! – I did and had, I speak the truth. – I believe you, just…she did it?! Really, for us?! – with every word, her doubt was passing as it never was, in her place, the determination is taking the roots. – Yes…yes…and…oh, look, there, duck down – she obeys and both are in the awed state. White Walkers. – We join up them. – Are you crazy?! This is the first time I am looking at those, and the next I know is, you are conferring to me that we just walk in and… - We are linked by the same cause, it is Snow. They won’t hurt us. – I heard tales of these people, and it is quite… - Yes, cold – the two shouldered a glance, sharing a laugh, before they are sprinting dauntlessly at the direction of White Walkers, but as soon as they reached, they were blocked the passage. One White Walker, the General, as white as Snow, and as ashen as he bestows, gruff and stern, scoffed at the three.

- If you weren’t what we smell you are, you would become one of us. Or you die – for a second, even the Unsullied cringed.

This amused Kat who is answering instead. – Great One, I am the Huntress, Katniss Everdeen. The one people call Mockingjay, naming me and taking as their Champion. So, I am Protector of the King in the North until his mission is completed. I was sent by One Ring and its Owner to guide Jon Snow into a trap, I fought it off. I would never commend, deliver or bring another being to such a foul creature. I came this far. Together. With our goat Kiki and my travelling companion. Grey Worm. He is the Unsullied. You heard of it? Even in this realm, I am certain you know him. Please, you are the least we are scared of, let us join you in! – White Walker consults all the other kindred amongst themselves amid the highly esteemed and greatly venerated wastes of the soiled pastures. The Grasslands were rich and enlarged in sin.

White Walkers took all three to their ranks temporarily. Alleviating the tensions and the concern from the minds of both transhumans who were trained to the bone and blood. But, they had to race against the Time, that Fire Wall won’t resist for too long. There is the shortcut, and White Walkers, were glad that the Night King of theirs is among them again. For they are created by the Children of Forest as the answer to the Conquerors of all kinds, only for Children to blend into Wood Silvan civilization. It is true what they say, the Life finds a way in the most unimaginable places, as little might be thought. White Walkers led the way, all followed the lead. Through iced steeps and frost slopes, Jon’s Host was running to reinforce King of the Night.
*
Passing by the scorching colossal waterfalls, the chiming bells are tolling. Specters are wandering around.

Chapter 172: Everything what we bury, goes out

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Come to me, you will. We look humanoids, we sound that way, but we are not what you think we are. The childlike bride learns that the King is given all by the people who follow him and he has to give all to the humanity, over and over again. This is the Eternal War. It doesn’t have to be the most beautiful, but to be something that captivates the world. White Walkers did march and eventually are crushing against the first lines of hordes, they are striking their odds while Katniss and Grey Worm were caught in between. She has to approach to the center. To Jon’s side.

There were too many and how could she possibly with a goat and Grey ever prevail until Grey didn’t shout to her to climb, just to climb. White Walkers will make the way for them to reach the other side and so it was. Wow, she felt like Tarzan and Jane, her favorite series, and Grey, the brother she never had was supremely taking her to that road, by exploiting vines and big leaves for their catapulting acrobatics. The stunts were unrealistic because he was pushing her outside of her possibilities, but still was shoved nonetheless, encouraging and reassuring her all the way, inbreathing in her what is to be instilled and inspired what is missed, every single time when she whines how she is a woman, he chides her, each time she says she can’t go on, he proves her wrong.

- I can’t…I just can’t…help me…dammit! HELP ME! I am swinging…ahhhh – her hoarse voice was ear-piercing, but he withstood for her sake, reaching for her with one hand while he is holding with another. – Do it, just do it! Swing to me! – I can’t! I am stuck! You idiot! Bloody fool! I can’t, I can’t! What part you don’t understand!? I am a woman, damn you! – That is your excuse?! I don’t take it. Unsullied doesn’t claim it, you will swing to me, or you die tonight, Katniss Everdeen! – Help me! I can’t alone. – Instead of CAN’T you idiotic woman, use CAN. I CAN, AND I CAN, maybe that will do the work! You can, you must! – NOOO! – her sobs are splinting her, never to die.

- Katniss f*cking Everdeen, my girl, my sister, just look at me, look…at…me…good, now…swing…slowly…slowly…yes…just look at me, don’t look down…KATNISS, YOU WOMAN, do not look down, just me, nothing matters, nothing is out there, nothing is around us, just focus on me, concentrate on the present, center all your willpower on the task, and your mission is simple. Swing from one tree to another. Swing! Yes…that is it… you are doing good. – Oh, God – whimpering to herself – Oh, God, Oh God…it is so…far! Like 30 meters, I won’t make it…I won’t make it… - Stop panicking! Kat, Kat…hey, hey…HEY, Woman, hey…here…the eyes…look me in the eyes…you hear…you hear me… - Yes! – she is faintly grasping, sniveling while doing so, tightening her grip, her hands are sweaty, fatigued and bleeding.
- You can do it! You can! Good? – Good – it was a whimper. – Now, try again. – We are losing time! – FORGET THE TIME, HERE…HERE…EYES, EYES… KAT. You are the Unsullied. They do not cry, they do not whine like you do! No lament, just DO IT! Steady, steady…and now…push it…PUSH IT, did you give birth?! – YES! – PUSH! PUSH! PUSH! Push that motherf*cker. You gave birth, this should have been a cinch to you! You hear me!

- YES! – I don’t hear you! – YES! YES! YES! – YOU ARE QUIET! – YEEEEEES! YEESS – it was maniacal how he asserted her to actually do it! And she was soaring screamingly, catching his awaiting hand, swinging together all along, though, down was the gaping abyss of the apocalyptic collision of White Walkers and Strigas, they tore each other apart, into the tiny pieces.

It was the merciless fight and both sides were on the primal level of their consciousness. Blood, blood and blood, they were exterminating everything before one another. This is what the species searched for and White Walkers got it. Hanging from one of the stems, he is forcing her to enwrap her legs over the thickest branch that was vined by the budding flowers. No, she couldn’t, it was impossible for her and the hands of hers are ruined.

- Forget hands, we will take care of it later, now, I need you to wrap your legs around the nearest bough, do it! – I am not such an acrobat!

- Listen to me, I can’t swing us both, this branch that I am holding will break, and when it cracks, we fall! You understand me? It is you who must save us both so that I may let you go to catch onto another branch. So, Kat… Kat! – Yes! – FOCUS. FOCUS! – Yes! Yes! But my hands… - Start doing it… - But I can’t reach it and it is hard for me to bend my spine, I… - she reaches and reaches, but she slips all the time, starting crying all over again.

- KAT! KAT! LOOK AT ME! Do not look away, girl…- he squeezes now both hands, for she was literally…clinging to the last straw. – I look, but it won’t change anything. I will die here. And I didn’t even fulfill… - KAT…Mockingjay, hey, hey! – Yes?! – Eyes on me! Eyes on me and let the body do the rest for you. – I am unable to do it. – You said it for the last time, one more time…and I will drop you – she widens her eyes. – You won’t. – I will. I swear to the Mother of Dragon. I will let you go – and all of the survival instincts kicked in her, from the first swing she caught that f*cking bough, enswathing her tight and toned thighs around it, her spine was breaking and she was hurting, but the mutual formed comradeship between those two was soldered and with a beacon, she catches with both hands, while he is catching another branch.

From that point, everything was easier, and they came on the other side. From the tallest of all tops, they are evaluating the situation. It was the Great Battle of all Battles, but not the last, nevertheless, at least, not yet. Not even heeding that he was bandaging her hands, captivated by the dancing battleground. She was in many wars and games, but this was utterly something different, only then and there, startling herself to look at him, seizing her chance to claim his hands into hers. Strong and warrior.

- Thank you. Thank you – she kisses them both, and Grey is speechless, till he says it. – A Brother to Sister!

One hand is on his chest, another he places on hers. Both are laughing. He was so scared. He was. Both began laughing so hard. With their tears in eyes.

- You did give me a scare, Kat. – I am sorry…it was… - It was no weakness… you know what it was? – No? – Human…and you are equal to all Queens of Dragons, that stunt back there… - Wait…I thought… - I couldn’t know, but I believed and you were…something the most astonishing I have ever had a probability to experience, all was overlapping, overlaying and you were in the center of it, even I or the Unsullied wouldn’t do it better. Wouldn’t know how. You saved us. – No… I don’t believe in what you say…You saved me, you saved us both…

- No, no… no, it was all you! Mocking jay. I was just your teacher. You failed, and you failed, and you failed and you failed and you failed, but you stood up and here we are. Failure is a great teacher. Indeed! We agree that we disagree, but on this one, we all accede – you never know until you try it to the end and she was so blessed, with her bandaged hands, she hugs him so strong that even he had to return the gesture, surprising selves all over again. Until both weren’t at one point, truthfully terrified. The biggest of all, Striga and White Walker, are charging at each other. Mother of God, where did these things came from?! You wouldn’t find the origins even if you give a try. – Go, now it is our turn. Go, Go, GO!

For all that time, Kiki was passing through the carnage as it was the dance on its own. And really, you don’t need to trust my words as the Storyteller but Kiki was in her prime, no one even noticed and her bleating definitely confused hell out of everyone, even Strigas and White Walkers alike who had no time to spend upon some roaming goat on the battlefield of the lifetime. Successfully the goat reached Kat and Grey Worm. Discerning both were that Bolton couldn’t go through the last obstacle. If he marches, he loses men, but he reaches Eregion. So, he got back, resentfully to Jon who was glad that Bolton made the right choice that cost them the turning point that would turn into the bloodshed. And what seemed as the failure, soon, it will be shown that it was the blessing in disguise as it always does.
For, perhaps, Bolton is now resenting it, but when all is laid down, settled, and his reason is not beclouded, he will see for himself that what appeared as the fail and misfortune, was the founded triumph in the long run that was seeded.

- Katniss. You are the final player here. It is your call – she turns to him. – As we agreed. You protect, I aim. – Deal – both made a sign of the Unsullied and with no hesitancy, she courageously with him on her side and the unshrinking, heroic goat, after the full second, made her prayer and let go of the first arrow. The Pack and Jon turned around, Witcher and Yen looked back. What the?! THAT WAS the nuclear blast that piled all the heaped mass in itself, swallowing the rest of the Strigas, eating and devouring.

They are besieged and as pledged, Grey Worm was protecting her back and goat, whiles she was aiming one after another, bending down and up, shooting all of her arrows of the precise aims. Everything fell at her feet. Jon hollers a war cry and Pack knew who it was, doing the same. Her arrival is prophesized and it was the majesty of magnificence. Mockingjay. The Birth of Woman. Tested beyond her bounds, she did overcome all odds. Let the odds were always in your favor and they were. Crouching and then, once more, she was firing like it was nothing to her. This was her moment, twirling and leaping all the while Grey Worm was with her at every step. Strigas had no chance. Witcher had to clap, the girl did the remaining job. Even Yen felt dumbfounded!

No miss, not even one. The nuclear blasts were steadily cleared away, to whom the nature and animals are immune, for Pack and all others had to hide in the bottoms of trenches, hiding from the hydrogen bombs of her arrows. See, that is why there were such deep moats and ditches, they absolutely had no qualm that she won’t come and she did in all her glory and mastery to rule the Great Battle of all battles out when the Last still awaits. Alas, when the victory was nigh, could have been sensed, the Lord did appear. For the power of the ring couldn’t be undone. He was teleported before Katniss, It was Saruman the White. Oh, no! He devilishly gave her something to remember, but it was meant not, Witcher was quicker and he stood between Katniss and her companions, repelling his Maker’s corrupted and vilified attacks, for Witchers, after all, were the Warrior Wizards. Saruman is thundering by the most pitched roar, for it was roaring that was telling to Witcher that he let him down, why does he turn to his Master. Witcher spoke!

- When you point your staff at the little girl, all what I could think to myself that for a long time you were the Shadow who betrayed your KIND!

Witcher finished him off by cutting off his head and upon the rolling of it, near the next tree, all was restored back to how it was. Bodies of the fallen were crystalized and sent to Mandos.
Both Jaime and Brienne viewed hugged, the smile of their neverborn child how it was waving its joyful glee at them, freed alongside with Joffrey, he was a good boy, cleansed from the impurities. Strigas found their peace and White Walkers withdrew with their fallen, Jon delivered them from their oath in doing so, but the Main General glares at Jon Snow, telling…they will be back whenever he calls, that is their duty and he is their NIGHT KING from this day forth. He may run from all, never himself. Grateful. Jon with everyone surrounds the true heroes.

Katniss, Grey Worm and the…goat?!

Yes, just like in the prophecy...all was unraveling. Unfolded will be so. You can make through the harshest winters as Everdeen did. Evergreen she was.

Chapter 173: The new world is born

Chapter Text

There may be lots of diverse sorts of Gods, but one is supreme, one is prime and one is sovereign, the head and the main above all else. Charisma that makes you enslaved to me. You would often ask yourselves, repeatedly slam your heads into the walls, convincing yourselves that you just might break them, but instead…it breaks you. Rider on the hillside who preys on you is me. You may take or keep what is mine from me, I always do come to own it back. Celebrimbor is speaking.

Yes. I am addressing you, little human, behind your safety bars. How lonely you may seem, aren’t you? I remarked that through all these times, there are innumerous reasons and styles how to subdue someone, make them good slaves, make them yours, eventually, all comes from just one mind, charisma or not, it comes to your brains, it affects your head. And that is…what if? What if?

Let me tell you this short story of my thoughts about the world you live in and someone else did create, but that someone was also designed, never by itself. Gates are opening and some beings are being escorted, the shadows are gathering in one place. What are they talking about?

At present, you shall understand what you want to be it, shadows are talking among themselves. Of course they are alive, they live because they are the manifested and visualized parts of our materialized egos.

- More human than human – to whom and with whom, about what they are speaking?

- No one will come for you as it won’t for us. Hope not, you will come to him, to us, to me, on your own, when you are called, when he invokes you, when his eyes are laid on you. When he desires it, until then, all is fair.

- He made us, and our name, we are Nazgul and without our Witch King, we are left to saunter around.

- He gave us all, prepared for us as he did for his Childlike Bride, now, me must give all of self to him, to scream his name to seize us away and back. It is all old, dark and deep. From our shades we came out, out of the same, the one stood out. Hiding in shadows as life forms that cast light larger on the walls than ever, for all our lives, it was platonic love, not pure friendship to our real Master, to the Owner of One Ring not, but to the One Ring itself that is the missing part of the reborn Arya Stark. It wants her and to overpower Celebrimbor.
- No, listen, Celebrimbor is countering it right away – one of Nazgul peeks into one of the missing hallways of Eregion, where the doomed are roaming. In there, Celebrimbor is one on one with the Wraith of Arya Stark.

- So, I found you. How cunning of you – his voice was the most irritating thing for the One Ring to hear, the one that personified the part that is missing, and wants it back. Arya Stark who was on the day of their rebirth, sundered, finding upon the invocation, a haven, into the One Ring vessel, reshaping it and molding to her pleasures, this is why her voice is demonic while her twin sister continued to live under the night of her father Emperor, one daughter opposite seven sons.

- You can’t do anything to me. This is what I told to Jon Snow. I tell to you too. All what I claimed, it shall be so – when saying it, his mouth is twisted into the sinister laugh. – Arya…no, One Ring, are you aware that it wasn’t you who did it, it was I who invited you when I made a new one – Arya’s dark side that is embodied and imaged takes a step back.

- One Ring is the Ring of Sauron. – No, it was destroyed. This one is MINE – oh, no…no, no, no…- Nazgul, you have someone to feed upon – Demoness Arya ran or in what she could turn into if in another life she didn’t heed what Hound implored from her.

- Go, child, save yourself, if you keep up, you will end up as I am. Death will be all what you find – Arya can’t hear anymore, at Winterfell, she has woken up in the sweating cataclysm, grasping her heart, panting, gasping for the air, until the possessed part of her on the other side of the spectrum, the missing part she was living with all of her young life is leisurely eaten, bit by bit, unhurriedly being devoured by Nazgul. One moment she was in the cage, another…she is left alone. Looking up, before her is the translucent silhouette, colorless and beside him, was the White Horse. Her all features are transformed from the grown up woman to the immature child.

- Daddy?! – softly she spoke out and he did smile upon her. It was over. He waited until Celebrimbor didn’t find out and realized that something is pulling him down and with him, even Arya Stark, the real one who gave birth to three Targaryen sons who are living together with her and family in Winterfell, along hatchlings of Robb Stark, it is a big family. Indeed. – Arya – he did speak to her and her human voice is clogged inside her. – Remember as North remembers, never forget your roots. Once you renounce what makes you who you are, you are forsaking myself, thus you are doing a favor to shadows. All is good, little one… - Dad, stay – she tries to catch the invisible Wall. – Winter is coming. Tell that to your brother! Tell to Azor Ahai. My Arya!
Winter is coming, all spectral and ghost chills are run down her spine. Winter is coming. When she looked up once more, he vanished. Winter is coming.

- Robb – was all what she could utter, getting up and down the cobble – paved corridors of Winterfell she literally woke up the full house on feet.

Winter was coming. The white raven has flown by Winterfell, belling the incoming Last Battle. Dagor Dagorath. When the Gods will fight Gods, Titans will fall and One Ring is fully formed now. Its power is absolute. What they will end, fighting the impossible. The Wall must brace itself, the Night’s Watch to be reinforced by Wildlings and Dothraki who found their home with them, Uncle Ben has to summon Direwolves and the Mother of Wolves. They all have to be prepared. In the meanwhile, Ygritte and Lady licked giggling Katniss, minimized dragons are swirling around the amused Grey Worm because he never thought he will be in their presence ever again while Mimicry and other Dwarven horses welcomed even the unusual goat.

- Please, let her speak, make some room for her and her companions – Jon orders and it be so. – Oh, thank you. I am Katniss and this is my Guardian, Grey Worm, we became – both glimpse at one another – brother and sister on this journey of life and it was the great one, and this is Kiki, there is enough milk for all. Honestly. It is the magical goat as you may see and thank you for welcoming us into your fellowship – hence one by one they introduced each other to her. First was Sir Jaime Lannister, who bows and presents himself, making himself known.

- I am Kingsguard. Sir Jaime Lannister, but you may call me just Jaime – he winks, earning from Brienne a slap, ouch. – What was that for!? – I am Brienne of Tarth, the Dame and Shieldmaiden of the North, and this lost case is my husband. You are most welcomed – upon such a display, Katniss unto herself could only bring a smile that brightened her nice traces which were for such a long time tight, now they are loose and she looked much younger than she is while Grey Worm and goat Kiki were stoic as ever. – You know Ygritte and Lady, Dragons and…horses, well, I am Lord Roose Bolton. – I saw you, you marched…

- Yes, yes…it didn’t go as planned, but we still win out. – And I am Haldir of Lorien, the Hand of the King, to this one here…yes, that grumpy looking Targaryen Elf, the crossbred or half-breed or whatever… - Hey, hey…next! – Jon broodingly commands, and this teaser of Elf is going on his nerves more than he would ever admit to himself, but can’t live without him anymore. If he must abduct him or steal him from the life he lived, he will, the same goes for She - Elf, the next was, thankfully, Tauriel who was all spring and fairy dust.

- Welcome, dear. I am Tauriel of Wood and Stone, the Daughter of Forest. You have our eternal gratitude – this Elf Lady certainly knew how to charm people and so she did even Katniss. Then, there was Rhaenyra who hopped into Katniss’s arms just to feel her essence, stunning and taking by surprise everyone, for she is their Little Lady, of course, and the last is Jon Snow and just a way it goes, he does get up first from the High Table or his seat, yet the last one he is when he meets anyone, such is a tradition whilst Witcher, Yen and Dandelion did make their acquaintance during the fight with the girl. – Katniss, you are a Final Player, but crucial to us. Dear.

Simple, yet significant, more than that he used hundreds of words, sometimes, just some are enough, for the brevity is the soul of the wit, even more it is emphasized and enhanced than ever that he told all what is the most relevant to be known so. Therefore, as of now, Katniss continues with the Pack to the last of sagas, but there is one more to be storytold as I promised, the Saga of Sansa Stark. What will ensue is what is being entailed. How she was brought to Celebrimbor, their meeting and her life with one of the darkest characters of the Realm of Fantasy. But, before we keep on, let us take a peek at what she does right at this moment. There must be something that is of relevance, for she has changed, from a dove, she was grown into a Wolf!

- Why are you lost in your thought, Lady Sansa? Our Princess? – Rat, once the most dreaded by her, now one of the closest friends beside all others she did make, for she felt more relaxed and herself with them, than with other humanoids. – Just how it all went for us. – You mean, how you come to know the world better? – Yes, and there is something we have to do, I won’t be a damsel in distress. Those shadow games had to stop. – Underground and experimental? – All of his, I don’t know how or when, but even when he falls, there has to be someone to whom we may trust to establish the Order. Unifying the upper and lower realm one and for all. – We all owe, but who owes the most? – she says. – Varys.

Both glared at each other with the profoundness. When she just recalls herself, ah, when it comes to the mind, how awful she was because of her prejudices and fear, mostly because of it and mainly for the circ*mstances which were surrounding her. In the foreign world she was the bud that blossomed into the prettiest because all those harsh winds and biting breezes, the scathing and scalding mind games, fortified her resolve that she has to keep resisting. And each person, from the past or the future, whoever encountered her or she did the people, for what comes subsequently and what is to come, she is ready. Hm, how she would call her story. How the tale may be called other than, no, better not. Beowulf is fine, but…she knows. It is it.
*The Final Part…to be continued in…Sansa and Lord of the Rings