A Song of Fire & Snow (GOT)(Jon Snow)

Chapter 16: Alarys

~Arrival at Dragonstone~

The salty breeze whipped through Alarys's hair as the ship glided toward the rocky shores of Dragonstone. She stood at the bow, her heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. This was not just another journey; it was a step into a world filled with intrigue and potential alliances. She had heard stories of the Targaryens and their dragons, of the political machinations that swirled around them like the stormy seas surrounding the island.

As the boat made landfall, Jon Snow, Ser Davos, and she disembarked, their boots hitting the rocky ground. Alarys took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the briny air that seemed to promise change. She glanced at Jon, who was surveying their surroundings with a keen eye, his expression a mix of determination and caution. She admired his resolve; he was a leader, albeit one burdened by the weight of his title and the impending war.

"Welcome to Dragonstone," Jon said, breaking the silence as they stepped onto the dock.

Before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the air. "Ah, the bastard of Winterfell arrives at last!" Tyrion Lannister approached, a sly grin spreading across his face. He was flanked by Missandei, whose calm presence balanced Tyrion's sharp wit.

Jon bristled slightly at the title, but Alarys found herself smiling at the playful banter. "And you must be the dwarf of Casterly Rock," Jon shot back, his voice steady.

Tyrion chuckled, and Alarys noted the scars etched into his skin—reminders of the battles he had fought, both in the political arena and on the battlefield. "Still as sharp-tongued as ever, I see. It's good to see you, Jon. I hope you've brought better news than I expect."

"Only time will tell," Jon replied, his gaze drifting toward Missandei, who stood patiently, waiting to interject.

"This is Missandei," Tyrion introduced, gesturing to the woman at his side. "My trusted advisor and friend."

Missandei offered a small smile, her eyes warm and inviting. "It is a pleasure to meet you both," she said, her voice soothing.

As Alarys stepped forward, she caught Tyrion's gaze, which lingered on her a beat longer than necessary. "And who is this beautiful woman?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Before Ser Davos could step in with an introduction, Alarys spoke up, her voice confident and clear. "Alarys of Dorne."

"Of Dorne?" Tyrion echoed, his expression shifting as he tried to place her. "My brother fought in your name during the trial for the murder of Joffrey Lannister... and he killed the Mountain, and you were named innocent."

"Martell?" he continued, realization dawning. "I didn't realize Oberyn had another sister."

"Well, yes," Alarys replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "It would seem I'm Dorne's best-kept secret."

Tyrion laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can't see why they'd keep you secret."

Jon, sensing the growing flirtation, cleared his throat, his discomfort evident. "We should get on with it. Missandei, I assume you're here to guide us through the process?"

Missandei nodded, her demeanor professional. "Yes, I must ask you to hand over your weapons for the time being."

Jon and Ser Davos complied, sheathing their swords as they approached the Dothraki guards stationed at the entrance. Alarys, however, didn't seem fazed. With a laugh, she unstrapped her twin blades from her back and handed them over with ease. "Like I needed these anyway," she quipped, though the hidden daggers strapped to her ankles remained concealed beneath her boots. A Viper was always prepared.

As they began their walk toward the castle, Jon found himself walking alongside Tyrion. "You've seen your fair share of scars since we last met," Jon remarked, glancing at the marks etched across Tyrion's face.

"Ah, the price of survival in Westeros," Tyrion replied with a wry smile. "At least I can still see the sunrise."

Missandei walked beside Ser Davos, engaging him in conversation about her homeland. "I come from the island of Naath," she said, her voice warm with nostalgia.

"Naath? That's a paradise full of palm trees, isn't it?" Davos replied, his eyes lighting up at the thought.

"It is indeed," Missandei replied, her smile growing. "The people there live in harmony with nature."

As the conversation flowed, Alarys drifted a little behind, next to an Unsullied warrior. She listened intently, absorbing the different personalities surrounding her.

Meanwhile, Jon and Tyrion delved into another topic—Sansa's marriage to Tyrion. "It was a sham wedding," Tyrion said with a shrug. "But she is a lot smarter than she lets on."

Jon nodded, remembering his sister's quiet resilience. "She's finally starting to let on, I think. She's become quite formidable."

"Ah, that's the spirit," Tyrion replied, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "She'll be a force to be reckoned with if she continues on this path."

Alarys walked slightly behind them, observing the interplay of personalities. She was intrigued by the way Jon and Tyrion interacted, their banter filled with a familiarity that spoke of mutual respect. It was a side of Jon she hadn't seen much of, and it warmed her heart.

Suddenly, the sky darkened as massive shadows passed overhead. Alarys looked up in awe, her heart racing as three dragons—Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion—soared low over the causeway, their wings creating gusts of wind that whipped through her hair. Jon and Davos dove for cover, startled by the sudden appearance of the beasts.

Missandei and Tyrion, however, retained their composure, exchanging amused glances. Alarys stood rooted in place, entranced by the sight before her. The dragons were magnificent, their scales shimmering like molten metal in the fading light. A chill ran down her spine, and an inexplicable warmth spread through her body, as if a connection sparked within her at the sight of these legendary creatures.

She felt alive, a fire igniting within her that was impossible to ignore. The dragons were embodiments of power and chaos, and they resonated with her in a way that sent tingles down her arms.

"Are you all right?" Jon asked, pulling her out of her reverie as he helped her up from where she had knelt on the ground.

"Just a little taken aback," she admitted, brushing the dust from her clothes.

Tyrion's voice broke in, light-hearted as always. "I wish I could say you'll get used to the dragons, but I doubt anyone is quite used to them—except for their mother, of course, who awaits you inside."

Alarys felt a rush of anticipation as they approached the castle, her heart beating faster with every step. They were moments away from meeting Daenerys Targaryen, the Dragon Queen herself. The prospect filled her with both excitement and apprehension, knowing that the path ahead could change everything for them all.

As they neared the grand entrance, Alarys took a moment to gather her thoughts, her mind swirling with the possibilities. This was not just a political mission; it was an opportunity to forge alliances, to bridge cultures, and perhaps even to uncover the truths buried deep within her own heart.

With Jon and Tyrion flanking her, and Davos at their side, Alarys stepped forward, ready to face whatever awaited them within the halls of Dragonstone.