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

Chapter 29: Alarys

Chapter 29: Fire and Shadow

The morning sun rose over King's Landing, casting long shadows across the ancient walls of the city. Alarys Martell stood at the edge of the camp, her eyes drifting toward the towering structure of the Dragonpit in the distance, its dome barely visible over the rooftops. Today, the parley with Cersei Lannister would take place, and tensions were already high. The fate of the realm hung in the balance, yet her mind was far from focused on the diplomatic tasks ahead.

She clenched her fists, feeling the familiar warmth in her chest—her fire, always simmering just beneath the surface. It had been like this since she was a child, a secret she had struggled with for years. But today, it felt different. Unsteady. She had always been able to control it, but as her emotions tangled into knots, that control felt as fragile as the peace they were about to negotiate.

A sudden, familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "Alarys."

She turned sharply, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw her brother, Oberyn Martell, walking toward her. Beside him was his paramour, Ellaria Sand, her ever-watchful gaze following his every movement.

"Oberyn," Alarys breathed, relief flooding through her. She hadn't expected him to be here, and the sight of him—alive, strong, and well—filled her with a sense of home that she hadn't realized she'd been missing.

Her brother's lips curled into a soft smile, his dark eyes scanning her as if assessing the changes since they'd last seen each other. He took a step closer, his presence commanding as always. "You've come a long way, sister," he said, his voice low but warm. "I'm proud of you."

Alarys felt a flush of pride bloom in her chest at his words, but before she could respond, Oberyn's eyes darted behind her, his expression shifting from affection to something far more calculating.

Jon Snow was approaching.

Alarys' heart lurched in her chest. She hadn't seen Jon since they'd left the ship early that morning, since the night they'd spent together. The memory of waking in his arms still clung to her, the tenderness of his touch, the quiet moments before he'd left. But now, in the cold light of day, everything felt complicated. Especially under Oberyn's watchful gaze.

Jon's stride was purposeful as he closed the distance between them, his expression tense but calm, his eyes flickering to her for only a brief second before landing on Oberyn.

"Prince Martell," Jon greeted, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it—an acknowledgment of Oberyn's reputation.

Oberyn nodded, his gaze sharp. "King in the North," he replied, though the title rolled off his tongue with a hint of amusement.

Before Jon could say anything else, his hand brushed lightly against Alarys' as he stood beside her. The touch was subtle, barely noticeable, but it sent a shockwave through her. It was as if he were checking on her, grounding her in the chaos that surrounded them. She almost leaned into it, wanting the reassurance of his presence, but she caught herself, stiffening instead. Now wasn't the time for tenderness, not with Oberyn watching them both like a hawk.

Jon's fingers lingered for only a second before he pulled them away, his attention shifting to the task ahead. But that second was enough. Oberyn, sharp as ever, caught the exchange. His dark eyes narrowed slightly, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—a smile that held more knowledge than Alarys was comfortable with.

"Well, well," Oberyn said, his tone light but laced with something else entirely. "It seems you've done more than help the North, sister."

Alarys shot him a warning glance, but he continued, clearly enjoying himself. "I sent you to gather information, to assist in the war effort... not to make the King in the North fall in love with you."