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

Chapter 31: Alarys

~The Fire Within~

Alarys Martell stormed out of the tent, her thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and unease. The cold air of the Northern camp bit at her skin, but the chill did little to cool the heat of her anger. Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen, Cersei Lannister—they were all playing a dangerous game, and none of them seemed to realize how close they were to setting the world ablaze.

Fools, she thought bitterly, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. All of them, so blinded by honor, ambition, or pride.

As she walked through the camp, her boots crunching against the frost-covered ground, she became aware of the looming shadow beside her. Drogon, Daenerys' largest and most fearsome dragon, lay just beyond the camp's edge, his massive wings folded against his sleek black body. His golden eyes, as piercing as molten fire, were fixed on her, following her movements as if sensing the storm brewing within her.

Alarys stopped in her tracks, her gaze locking with the beast's. There was something about the dragon that had always drawn her in. Perhaps it was the fire, the raw, untamed power that radiated from him. She understood that power, knew it too well. It was the same power she carried within her—hidden, buried beneath layers of control and fear. For as long as she could remember, she had been terrified of what lay inside her, afraid that the flames might consume her if she let them free.

Without thinking, she moved toward Drogon, her feet carrying her closer to the creature that embodied everything she feared and everything she longed for. The dragon watched her approach, his golden eyes calm and unblinking. Alarys could feel the heat emanating from his body as she came to stand in front of him, the warmth wrapping around her like a comforting embrace.

She hesitated for a moment, then spoke in High Valyrian, the words coming to her naturally. "Nyke sagon gaomagon drīve iā perzys" (I am fire or flame). Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but Drogon heard her. He lowered his head, bringing his massive snout closer to her outstretched hand, the heat from his breath causing the air to shimmer between them.

Alarys felt her heart race in her chest, but it wasn't fear that gripped her now. It was something else. Acceptance. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Drogon's warm scales, feeling the rough texture beneath her fingertips. The dragon's gaze never wavered, and for the first time in a long while, Alarys felt... seen. Not by a person, but by a creature that understood her in a way no one else did.

Slowly, she withdrew her hand from Drogon's snout and took a step back. As she did, she raised her hand in front of her face and allowed the fire within her to rise. A soft, gentle flame appeared, dancing across her skin like an old friend. The sight of it was mesmerizing, and for a moment, she simply watched the fire, feeling its warmth and its power. There was no fear this time, no panic or sense of losing control. Just calm.

Drogon shifted, his massive head moving closer to her hand, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. And then, in a gesture that made her breath catch in her throat, he pressed his snout against the flames, the heat rolling off him in waves as if he were enjoying the warmth against his scales. Alarys blinked, stunned by the dragon's reaction. He wasn't afraid. He had never been afraid of her. He had known all along what she was—what she carried within her.

"Kesan, kessa ao isse kesīr" (Yes, I am like you), she whispered to the dragon, her voice barely audible as she marveled at the connection she felt with the beast.

The moment was broken by a familiar voice behind her. "You seem to have gotten better at your control."

Alarys whirled around, startled by the sudden interruption. Oberyn stood a few paces away, his arms crossed over his chest, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. It was a smile he reserved only for her—gentle, full of understanding, and tinged with affection.