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The Fire Burns Just as Bright

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"A word before you depart with the Queen for the beach. It concerns the man awaiting her."

Like always, the slippery voice of the Spider grated on the old knight's ears, but he paused in getting on the boat. He saw the Queen pause as well, turning so that she too could hear the master of whispers speak to her Kingsguard.

"If half of the rumors I have begun to hear about this Jon Stark are true, then he will either turn out to be our Queen's most effective ally, or her worst enemy. Regardless of that, he is to be considered highly dangerous, and I would treat him with extreme caution."

Barristan nodded, but it was Daenerys who spoke up,

"What have you heard about this King in the North?"

Varys turned to face the Queen, his expression serious.

"In only a matter of a few months he led a brutal and ruthless campaign against the Boltons in the North, utterly wiping out not only their family home, but coldly killing Ramsay Bolton by archers during a meeting. There are rumors that it was his men, and the king himself, that led the attack on the Twins that left that castle burning, and every male Frey dead outside the walls, as well as the disspearence of Jaime Lannister."

"Jaime's missing?" interrupted Tyrion, the first thing he had spoken since Grey Worm had listed the titles of the man awaiting him.

"One of the first things that I did confirm was that your brother has indeed gone missing, and was last seen at the Twins. He is either dead by the northerners, or their prisoner."

Tyrion gave a dark scowl, and Barristan could see his gaze flicker over to the young Arya Stark, who was still standing at Daenerys' side, though her gaze was on the beach. The Queen's voice drew her out of her trance,

"Well Arya, do you think your brother means me harm?"

The young Stark girl scoffed at that,

"He's too good for that, he was always too good. Seems to me like he's done most of the work for you, getting four of the seven kingdoms."

"Regardless of your feelings for your brother, Lady Arya, I do not believe that the Queen should meet with him. Perhaps I should go talk with Snow first, as the Queen's Hand."

The Queen shook her head once, increasing the scowl on Tyrion's face.

"I've not named you as my Hand, Lord Tyrion, at least not yet. I see no harm in meeting a man who is waiting for me, and Arya does have a point. I also believe that he called himself Jon Stark, not Snow."

"That boy's nothing more than a bastard."

The thin blade that the Stark girl held at her waist was suddenly pressed against Tyrion's neck in an instant.

"Say that about my brother one more time, and you can swim to Dragonstone from here, dwarf."

It was Quaithe who stepped forward, her mask firmly in place as usual. Barristan did not trust the woman at all, but for some reason Daenerys did. He wondered what the masked woman had shown or told the Queen all those months ago in Meereen when she asked a private audience of her, but whatever it was seemed to have gained the Queen's trust. Her hand pressed on the young Stark's hand, moving her traveling companion's hand and blade from Lord Tyrion as she spoke in her soothing voice,

"It would appear to me that our Queen would benefit greatly from an alliance with this Jon Stark. After all, even in Essos we have heard of the animosity between your two houses. Were you to help bridge the gap and rejoin the dragons and wolves, would it not send a powerful message to Cersei and the rest of the Realm?"

It was that thought that consumed Barristan's mind as their smaller boats rowed their way to the shore. He could see a small party waiting for them, with a man standing next to a large pile of white stones. As they drew closer, Barristan gasped in shock as the white stones began to move and from them emerged a large white wolf, it's shoulders reaching the man's elbow. No wolf could ever reach that size, could that possibly be,

"By the Seven, is that his direwolf?" exclaimed Tyrion softly.

Barristan noticed the Queen's attention was immediately drawn to the beast at the side of the king. He had stood guard while she and the Lady Arya had spent hours talking with Missandei and the others. One of the stories that Daenerys had loved to hear about was Arya speaking of the family of Direwolves that the Starks had found. She had been even more impressed when Theon Greyjoy had confessed that it was Jon himself who pleaded for their lives when they found them. Barristan began to inspect the men, and women, around the King in the North. He quickly recognized a few of the Northern banners such as the Manderlys, Umbers, Glovers, and even Mormonts as well. The banner of House Royce of the Vale was there as well, and a Tully flag too. No banners from the Westerlands flew. Perhaps his conquest was not yet complete? Either way it was an intimidating site, though he was confident that the Queen would not be affected. He could also tell that there wasn't anything directly hostile in the eyes of the northerners, a fact that surprised him. The few men of the North that he had met had always scowled at the mere mention of dragons, and to see them avert their gaze with only a hint of a frown was very confusing. The King himself seemed to have eyes only for the Queen, his face opening in shock for a moment as he took in her features, and as Barristan turned to help her out of the boat, he saw that she too was struck still and gazing at the man.

"Your Grace?"

For a long moment no one said anything as the two monarchs seemed to stare at each other with impossible recognition displayed on their faces, but quickly they both mastered their expressions as they began to slowly make their way towards each other. The silent and reverent moment was lost when the great white wolf bounded between the two and began to sniff all over the Queen before barking energetically and running around her. Barristan and Grey Worm both stepped forward, hands on their weapons when Jon Stark took a few steps towards his direwolf, his gloved hands pulling the large beast back. He spoke in a low and gruff voice, but something about the tone of it struck a cord in the memories of Barristan.

"Down Ghost, you're scaring the Queen."

The Queen gave a light chuckle,

"I can assure you, your Grace, that it would take far more than a single direwolf to scare me."

As Jon Stark turned his head up to face the Queen, Barristan was once more struck with a distant memory. He looked so familiar for some reason. He internally shrugged off the thought as the rest of the Queen's advisors stepped off the boat, but he couldn't see the lady Arya among them. His gaze was redirected towards the two monarchs as they shook hands, and the king spoke once more,

"Queen Daenerys, welcome home. Dragonstone is yours."

Most everyone's eyebrows raised at that, the Queen being no exception.

"I thank you, though I must ask why you are here and welcoming me, and not to mention just handing the castle over to me."

Jon Stark gave a slight smile before shrugging his shoulders.

"Dragonstone has always belonged to House Targaryen, and as a Stark I have no claim to it. My men and I were here looking for something on the island, and have been here for a few weeks."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

He gave a short nod before looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Perhaps we could take this conversation inside, your Grace? I had my men inspect the castle when we learned of your arrival a week ago, and they have assured me that it is safe."

Before the Queen could nod, Barristan could do nothing but watch as Tyrion moved forward, glaring up at Jon.

"I think you should tell your rightful Queen exactly what you've been doing on her island. She should know whatever it is that is rightfully hers that you have taken."

A dark grin spread over Jon's face, his eyes going cold as he looked down.

"I will speak to Queen Daenerys about what I found on her island. As for taking things that rightfully belong to others, well no one was here to defend it, not that they would defend the thing I was looking for. And in the case of Casterly Rock, since that is obviously what you really want to talk about, no one was able to defend it well enough. If you want it back so badly Tyrion, you can have it. I personally have no use for a ruined pile of rubble."

"What did you just say?" growled Tyrion.

"After I took Casterly Rock, which fell in less than a week, I spent the next month or so tearing each and every stone in it's walls down. We took everything of value from the castle first, and most of the stone and men that surrendered has gone North to either rebuild Moat Cailin or the castles on the Wall. After I took everything that we could take, we burnt the rest. The smoke made its way to Oldtown apparently."

"How in the name of the Seven did you take Casterly Rock in less than a week?"

"I had help from the inside, as well as the insightful knowledge from your brother Jaime, who was eager to talk. Eventually."

If looks could kill, Tyrion would be a kingslayer twice over. For a moment it seemed like the young Lannister was content to glare at the northern king, but then he opened his mouth as the man turned to face Daenerys.

"Then it is a good thing we have your sister."

At once there was a flash of white as Ghost lunged forward and crashed into Tyrion, pinning him to the ground. Men on both sides drew their blades as Jon advanced towards the Lannister, with a look of pure rage and murder. It was only when Daenerys placed herself in between the two, her hands pushing against Jon's chest that he slowed down and looked at her. To her credit, she didn't flinch at his gaze, but Barristan believed her to be standing far too close, and frowned when she didn't take a step back.

"Your sister Arya has been a guest of mine for many months, and is a good friend of mine. In no way shape or form is she a hostage, nor would she ever be. I am certain she is eager to meet you, and is waiting on our ship out in the bay."

"The last anyone heard of her, she was in King's Landing when my, when Lord Stark was executed. How did she end up with you."

It was Quaithe who stepped forward, placing a hand on the young King's shoulder.

"Your sister managed to find herself in the Free City of Braavos, where she hid for a time. Danger found her there, and she continued running eastward, where she and I met up in Volantis, and we both journeyed to Meereen together."

Jon nodded at that, before taking a few deep breaths. He didn't call Ghost off of Tyrion, but the direwolf moved away all the same, leaving the dwarf gasping in pain as he clutched his sides and chest.

"For that, and that alone, so long as I am King, you will never touch an inch of Westerland soil Tyrion. On every heart tree there is, I swear it. Now I want to see my sister, and I want to see her now."

It was Daenerys who responded, finally taking a step back.

"She is still on the ship. I will have someone go back to get her. In fact, why don't you do that Tyrion, and make sure to ask the rest of my council to come to shore. You however are to stay on the ships until further notice."

"How am I to advise you then?"

"I've no wish to hear your advice right now, especially if it entails threatening a friend of mine."

No one spoke as Tyrion pushed himself up from the ground with a wince as he limped away towards the boats. Eventually Varys stepped forward and softly whispered into the Queen's ear, who nodded in return as she faced Jon Stark once more. However before she could speak up, there was a loud roar from the sky, followed by two echoing ones. All three of the Queen's dragons flew out of the clouds and landed on the nearby sand, the impact of their wings carrying the sand all across the ground. The black dread reborn perched above his younger brothers on the cliffside, viewing those below him with little interest. The green dragon named for the Prince that Barristan once fought for was eagerly sniffing the air, as was its other brother. It was the white dragon that stopped in its tracks as it appeared to catch the scent of something in the air. Everyone in both groups had begun to slowly back away, but when the Queen and Jon Stark moved, Viserion's head whipped towards them, though it appeared that the dragon's gaze was upon the Northern king. That suspicion was confirmed when Viserion crossed the beach in a few eager bounds and struck his head forward, sniffing up and down the Stark king like Ghost had just done with his Queen. The dragon even roared up into the sky when it had done so, before pushing his head back into the chest of the man before him, nearly knocking him to the ground. After a moment, the Queen's amazed voice called out softly,

"He wants you to pet him, Jon Stark."

He looked over at the Queen incredulously, shocked that she would even suggest such a thing. But she had eyes only for Jon Stark, though his attention was solely on the dragon before him. Who was this man?


The rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms walked silently through her childhood home, her mind wandered once more to the silent and brooding King who was her guest. He was her shadowy lover, the one who had been visiting her nearly every night in that dream of hers, she was sure of it. Daenerys was also almost certain that he had recognized her as well. Was the dream some sort of premonition of a future that had yet to pass? Her dreams had come true before, could this not be one like those too? She wondered if she could ask Shiera these questions, and whether her riddles of an answer would yield results. It had been quite the shock to see Quaithe remove her mask to reveal the silver hair and familiar features of her family that night in Meereen, but since then she had gained the confidence of the Queen. While her advice could be cryptic, Daenerys knew that unlike her other advisors, she never had to wonder if the result of listening to Shiera would bring harm upon her. Her thoughts eventually brought her to a room filled with bookshelves and a large desk, with a simple bed in it. She turned to Ser Barristan with a questioning look upon seeing the large dragon motif carved into the floor.

"This was the room that belonged to your brother Prince Rhaegar, your Grace."

"It would appear that someone has been in this room recently. A servant perhaps?"

Her knight nodded once, and they continued on their way to the council chambers. Unfortunately for her, the way brought them into the path of Ser Andrew Estermont. The tall knight gave a short and terse bow and began to walk side by side with her, assuming much already, and then he opened his mouth.

"Have you considered changing your mind about the proposal I have offered you, your Grace. It would be a wise move."

Daenerys could not help herself from scoffing as she stopped suddenly, causing the Stormlander to halt in his steps. She waited until his eyes were on hers as she began to speak.

"The answer to that question will always be no, Ser Andrew. No matter how many ways you spin it, I will not be marrying my cousin Edric to rebuild the gaps between our Houses. It is the Baratheons that owe me a debt of fire and blood if you would recall your history. Fortunately for your ward's case, I do find children innocent for the sins of their fathers. He will gain Storm's End, and his fathers name, so long as he can give me the Stormlands and their perpetual fealty. That is the agreement we shook hands upon in Lys four months ago."

For some reason the man decided to continue to talk,

"But with these dead men that King Jon has shown us but an hour ago, would it not be more prudent to secure your claim? There are many a lord and lady who do not look kindly upon your name, but remember Edric's sire with fond memory."

"Do these fond memories include the times when he laughed at the corpses of my good sister and niece and nephew? Or perhaps when he slew my older brother and forced Viserys and I into a life of exile? Maybe it was the past twenty years when he seemed to do nothing but attempt to drink and whore himself into the grave. You should be thanking your Seven and even the Old Gods of the North that I have even agreed to legitimize my cousin and allow the Baratheon name to continue. I have no reason to do so save for the blood that Edric Storm and I share."

Finally the knight looked away, his cheeks red with either anger or embarrassment. Daenerys voice was softer, but no less sharp.

"Inform my cousin that I wish his presence at our council meeting, and yours far from it."

His jaw clenched for a moment but he bowed and nodded before walking away. Daenerys did not turn from him until he vanished from sight. She would need to keep an eye on that one. His loyalty was clearly to the Baratheon name, and only that. It had been Shiera's suggestion that they stop in Lys on their way over, though it was Arya that had been the one to find Edric and the others. A few days of terse negotiations had followed, before the accord had been struck, and they continued on their way together. Edric was a young boy of sixteen, with his looks clearly favoring the Usurpers save for his ears. He was a good person though, and loyal, thanks to her promise of giving him Storm's End. It had been his home until knights loyal to his Uncle had taken him away to Essos once Cersei had gone on a rampage of killing his half siblings. Keeping him safe and promising him the castle of his ancestors would be a smart way of securing the Stormlands. Suddenly all thoughts of the Baratheons were driven from her mind as she turned the corner to see Jon Stark on his knees with a knife wielded by Arya at his throat.

"You're lying. My brother had brown eyes not grey!"

"Arya it's me, I swear it!" said Jon, his eyes only on his little sister, "When we were children, I hid in the crypts and covered myself in flour and waited for Robb to bring you and Sansa down there with Bran as well. Sansa didn't speak to any of us for a week after I scared her. I gave you that sword the day you left for King's Landing and I to the Wall."

The knife faltered for a moment, and Jon pressed on,

"When you were young, you snuck into my room, worried that you were a bastard like me because we looked alike and not like your mother. I snuck into the library and found that book of lineages, and proved you looked just like a Stark."

"But your eyes, why have they changed?"

Dany took a step back, not wanting to intrude on this private moment, but not nearly enough to not hear the confusing words that came out of the Northern King's mouth.

"When I let the Free Folk south of the Wall, there were men of in the Watch that didn't agree with what I did, so they led a mutiny against me, one that succeeded. They killed me Arya, until a Red Priestess brought me back."

He was the one that came back? When Daenerys had stopped in Volantis, Kinvara had mentioned that one of her apprentices had performed great miracles in Westeros, including bringing someone back from the jaws of death. Arya had said that that was some knight in the Riverlands, but could it be someone else? At Arya's gasp around the corner, she peeked her head around, embarrassingly aware of how unqueenly she seemed, but unable to care. The sight of Jon Stark's muscular but scarred chest ripped out any coherent thoughts from her mind as he pulled his shirt up. He just as quickly pulled it down and began to speak softly once more,

"Melisandre said that something about me being dead for over a day caused my eyes to change color, but she wasn't sure why. It honestly hasn't been something I've been thinking too hard about."

That seemed to be enough for Daenerys' new friend, for she watched as Arya quickly put her dagger away and said quietly,

"I've missed you big brother."

Jon immediately responded by pulling his sister into a big hug, and Daenerys had to look away and compose herself. Viserys had never hugged her like that before, like he had actually cared for her. She was happy for them both though. So many nights Arya had talked of her favorite brother as they sailed from Meereen to Westeros, of all the ways they had played together and everything he had done for her. Equal feelings of jealousy and longing had conflicted the Queen's mind as she had thought of her friends brother. But now she knew that this Jon was also her shadowy lover, the one who seemed to know her body so well in that world of dreams. She wondered if she could postpone this formal meeting in order to discuss a far less formal meeting with Jon, but knew she couldn't just yet. She turned to Ser Barristan and motioned for him to follow her down a different path to the Painted Table, giving the two siblings time to reunite.

A short time later found all of Daenerys' allies staring at the King in the North in shock once more. It was Varys who responded first, his tone disbelieving and cautious.

"You have a spy in King's Landing."

Jon looked over to her spymaster, smirking as he answered.

"I have many spies in King's Landing. How else was I to know about if Cersei was going to send men up the Kingsroad?"

"Fine, you seem to have more sense than your father did," answered Olenna Tyrell, "But what is this about seeing Lords from the Reach speaking with Cersei."

Jon first looked to her, seeming to ask her permission to continue. At her nod, he pulled out a scroll with a broken Lannister seal upon it.

"We intercepted this coming from King's Landing on it's original destination to Braavos. We were able to send a different message on the bird, but the original one seemed to be Cersei wanting to open a dialogue with the Iron Bank and the Golden Company specifically."

"Robert Baratheon drove this country into debt, there is nothing in the treasury to interest the Iron Bank. Unless she was able to take the mines back in the Westerlands."

"Those are empty," said Jon to the surprise of everyone before he continued, "And I don't think that's where she's planning on getting the gold. Lord Randyll Tarly and his son were there, and he shook hands with Cersei and thanked her when she called him Warden."

"So the Lion bitch intends to take the gold from Highgarden?" asked Ellaria.

Daenerys and Olenna exchanged a worried look. They both knew who was hiding safe in Highgarden, and Daenerys knew that if that person was harmed, any chance of Olenna helping her would be lost. She pulled away from that thought as Jon continued speaking as he moved pieces along the table.

"Fortunately Cersei has given most of her remaining soldiers to march with Tarly as they head towards Highgarden, leaving King's Landing unprotected, which we should take advantage of."

"We? Why the fuck do you care?" asked Yara.

Daenerys supposed the glare from her master of ships was somewhat reasonable. When Theon Greyjoy had arrived on the beach that morning, Jon had almost killed him. The man was still being tended to by the maester, and Yara had wanted to attack Jon for striking her brother, but Daenerys wouldn't allow it. Secretly, after hearing what Theon had done to the Starks, she believed he had gotten off easy. She looked up to the silent room as Jon continued to stare coldly at Yara before she looked away.

"As I showed you all but a few hours ago, the White Walkers are real. You all saw that dead man in the throne room, how nothing seemed to stop it. There are easily over one hundred thousand of those beyond the Wall, probably more. Now as much as I would like to get everyone to the Wall, I am well aware that we can't fight a war on two fronts. This war can be won in a week or maybe even less."

"And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

"Simple. I can get Cersei to meet me outside the walls of the city by telling her that I'll trade her brother for a more lasting peace, maybe even a treaty. While she's distracted, you can take the city, and I can kill her."

No one spoke for a moment until Arya frowned and looked over at her brother.

"Father would never approve of something like this."

It was like a light had gone on behind his eyes as he turned towards his sister, a fiery light that stirred at Daenerys' memory for some reason.

"I don't give a damn if Lord Stark would approve of this, little sister, because he's dead. He's dead because he didn't have the stomach to do something like this, and would rather hide behind his pathetic honor than do what was right, what was needed. His honor got him killed, forced you on the run, and Sansa to be a prisoner. We lost everything because he decided honor was more important. I will not make the same mistakes he did. My personal honor is not more important than the lives of the people, and I will gladly tarnish that if it means protecting them. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm certain that you have other things you wish to speak about with your advisers. When a plan is made to take the capitol, please let me know so that I may lend my soldiers in aid. Until then I have dragonglass to mine."

As he began to walk out the room, his retinue and direwolf following, Daenerys found herself calling out,

"I will see you tonight to speak of the terms of our alliance over dinner, King Jon."

He paused in the doorway and turned slightly to face her. The way the shadows hit his face confirmed without a doubt that he was the shadowy lover. His eyes seemed to darken in recognition and he gave a short nod.

"I look forward to it, your Grace. We have much to discuss."


He wasn't exactly sure how he found himself delving his tongue into his Aunt's mouth, his hands pulling her into his lap and hers grasping his hair. They had started off with a proper dinner between the two of them, and Jon had been careful to keep his feelings below the surface. He had recognized her almost immediately on the beach earlier this morning as the woman of his dreams, and it almost seemed like she recognized him too. They had been talking about Daenys the Dreamer, he was certain of it, before she mentioned something about having prophetic dreams too. He had asked her if any of the dreams had to do with a boat, and then the next second they had been practically jumping on each other. However, this wasn't what he had planned on doing, though he wasn't complaining, when he had agreed to this dinner, and it was with great reluctance that he pulled her away from his neck, the two of them breathing heavily.

"Before we continue, if you wish to that is, there is something I need to tell you."

He could hear her groan in displeasure, her body shifting in his lap till he groaned in frustration as well.

"Are you sure this cannot wait till afterwards?"

"As much as I would like to continue this and forget about what I have to tell you, I cannot. This is important, it's about your brother, Rhaegar."

She frowned, but slowly pushed herself off his chair and sat back down on hers, arms folded in impatience. Jon staggered to his feet, willing his blood to return to his brain before making his way over to the chest of belongings he had brought up with him. After burning Casterly Rock and taking Lannisport, he had decided to stop by Oldtown and pick up his friend Sam, who turned out to be holding a very interesting journal of a High Septon. It was that book that he handed to Daenerys, a thin ribbon helping him open up to the passage. As she read, he could see the moment her eyes touched the words that had proved his legitimacy, as well as shattering the lie that was Robert's Rebellion.

"They were married?"

Jon nodded slowly before he responded in a low whisper,

"Not only were they married, but they also had a son."

Daenerys looked up in shock and almost hope in her eyes, though that was soon tempered with suspicion and worry.

"You know where he is then."

Jon nodded once,

"I know exactly where he is."

She stood up, her hands still holding onto the journal as she made her way to the window, the fireplace casting shadows on her side and back. After a moment she spoke softly,

"Where has he been? What is he doing right now? What does he want?"

"Honestly all your nephew wants to do right now is throw you on that bed and spend the night between your thighs, but we can keep talking if you want, Aunt."

Equal parts lust and anger met his gaze as she spun around to face him, her eyes narrowing in disbelief for but a moment. Jon stood up as well, though he kept his distance.

"Apparently my Uncle found my mother and I as she bled out on the birthing bed and promised to protect me. Of course, his idea of protecting was letting me be treated like shit and then shoving me off to the Wall when it was convienent, but I'll not complain or whine about my life."

"Why are you telling me this? Is this part of your plan to take the throne?"

It was Jon's turn to frown.

"I don't need the Iron Throne. If I did, I would already be sitting on it. All it would take was sending copies of that book out to Westeros, and I would have dozens and dozens of Houses swearing their fealty to me."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because it would put you in harm's way, Daenerys. I'm not a fool. All it would take is one Lord trying to prove his loyalty to me by killing you, in his mind he'd be removing a threat from my reign. Or an obstacle from shoving his daughters in front of me. You are my family, and I will not be the reason you are in danger."

He could see she was begining to relax, but her voice was sharp as ever.

"Why should I believe you, nephew? How do I know this isn't some sort of ploy for me to lower my guard and strike when I am vulnerable."

Jon began to walk forward, his gaze darkening to match the intensity of hers.

"I've known you've been coming to this island for over a week now. Plenty of time to pack up and sail North if I wanted nothing from you, and plenty of time to set up a dozen ambushes in this castle. Instead I am here, giving you the only copy that proves who I am. You, me, and two others are the only others that know who I really am now, and I would slit the throats of the other two without hesitation if I thought they meant to use this against us. You are the heir to House Targaryen, and the Iron Throne is yours. I will support you in this, even if it means living as Jon Snow for the rest of my life. You can cast that only copy in the fire if you wish, but whatever you decide, it is your decision."

By the time he had finished talking, he had walked towards his Aunt till her back was up against the wall, though their gaze never broke. For what seemed like an eternity they stared at each other until Daenerys gave a short nod and a small smirk. She tossed the book away, not towards the fire, but rather the table where their unfinished meal lay.

"We will discuss this tomorrow but what I want right now is for you to make good on your promise of spending the night between my thighs, nephew."

Jon smiled and reached down to her face, pulling her into a searing kiss as they stumbled their way to the bed, clothes falling off until it was just the two of them as the storm raged outside.


He had woken up from some sort of strange nightmare. He had been on his way to setting up a trap for those Dornish bastards, when that violent storm came out of nowhere and struck his ship, and then another ship had rammed into his. The oddest part was that he recognized the sails on the ship. They were his sails. The stranger thing was that some of the men he was fighting looked like his own crewman. In fact the last thing he remembered was watching one of his crewmen fighting what looked to be his exact twin.

Suddenly rough hands pulled him up and out of the cell he was shoved into. A cloth sack was pulled over his head, and he found himself being lead about a rocking ship, one that almost seemed familiar to his feet before entering a room and being thrown down to the ground. When the sack was pulled from his head, he found himself in his quarters on the Silence. Only somehow they had already redecorated, putting strange maps and devices all across the walls. He could even see a large blackened horn, though it looked to be half melted. What truly grabbed his attention was the man sitting at his desk. It wasn't the fact that he had taken what wasn't his, but rather the fact that the man looked just like him. The only difference was that his apparent twin was wearing what seemed to be smoky Valyrian armor, and had an eye patch over one of his eyes. The remaining one stared at him impassively for a moment before Euron felt the need to speak up,

"Well mother never told me I had a twin. At least I have the looks."

There was a blur of motion and searing pain on Euron's face as his twin leaped over the desk and plunged a gloved finger into his eye, twisting and ripping it out without saying a word while Euron screamed. His screams turned even higher when a mute shoved a burning coal into the hole, somewhat cauterizing the wound. Still his twin said nothing until the whimpering died down. Then he spoke, and Euron could hear his own voice, though it raspy and dark. He looked up to see that the man had what appeared to be burn scars on his lips and trailing down his throat.

"It would seem that all you have is your pointless quips. I, on the other hand, have seen the world. I have witnessed things you couldn't even possibly imagine, beings so powerful they are something else, something other. I have even felt the power of a dragon beneath me, and for a time their flames were mine. This time, however, I have far more important goals than taking one of those beasts under my control. Tell me, my apparent twin," he said as he placed an axe, the blade swirling with dark Valyrian steel, under Euron's throat, "What do you know about the Mother of Dragons, and the one who calls himself Jon Snow."