Kingdom of One

Jon

Jon Snow took one more staggering step towards the dark shadow huddled before him. The light from the sword in his hand illuminated a pale face, framed by short, dark hair. A face he had not been sure he would ever see again. The face stared at him in awe and terror. "Jon," it whispered.

He stared down in amazement at his little sister. "Arya?" he breathed. "Is that really you?" He sank down to the floor and pulled her into his arms, sure that she would disappear the second he touched her. But when he opened them, there she still was. "You survived the attack on King's Landing?"

Arya leaned back, her face even with his. "Barely. If it was not for our brother, I would not be here now."

"If it was not for... who? Bran?" he asked, confused.

Arya laughed. "I will explain another time. Right now, though... you're alive," she said, still in wonder.

"I am... although how, I do not know," he said, gazing dazedly around the room. "I feel as though I have woken up from a deep sleep."

Arya stood, pulling Jon up with her. "I must tell Bran what happened. Although," she said, smirking, "I have a feeling he already knows."

   **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     **     

Jon sat in the great stone tower, staring at the now cold sword in his hands. It was no longer ablaze. Arya was preparing horses and supplies for them to return to Winterfell, giving him a moment to ruminate. His mind was still reeling from the events of the last hour, unsure how or why any of it had happened.

Across from him, Drogon snorted, a jet of steam rising from his nostrils. Slowly, the beast uncurled his long, reptilian body until Jon glimpsed a still, small shape, it's white blonde hair glowing in the moonlight from above. His blood ran cold as he recognized Daenerys. He stood to rush to her side, when Drogon let out a warning growl.

Jon froze, eyes darting back and forth between Daenerys' body and the dragon. Drogon let out several more snorts before allowing a burst of flame to escape. It whirled past Jon, narrowly missing him. He yelped and jumped back, crying "Hey!" 

The massive beast unfolded itself, filling the room. It began to advance towards Jon, jowls glowing with an inferno awaiting release. He backpedaled rapidly, waving the sword desperately in front of him. "Now would be a really good time to catch fire again," he muttered, certain that at any moment he would be turned into a charred heap, in one final act of Targaryen vengeance.

When Drogon finally opened his jaws and unleashed the blazing conflagration, Jon squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for a quick end.

But it never came.

He sensed the scorching heat, heard the whoosh of the flames, but felt... nothing. Slowly, incredulously, he opened his eyes to find that the dragon's flames were being conducted directly into the blade he held in front of him.

After several blistering moments, Drogon ceased his firestorm. The room went dark except for the sword, which continued to burn as it had before. Jon stared mesmerized as the flames licked up the blade, climbing higher and higher. The longer Jon looked, the more the flames began to resemble distinct shapes. As he watched, the shapes morphed, becoming more and more human.

A single flare fell to the ground and began to grow larger and larger, until it was taller than any human Jon had ever encountered. He stumbled away. The flare, as it twisted and stretched, became a woman, the likes of which Jon had never seen. She shook out her hair, tongues of flame licking the air around him. One wrapped around his forearm and he was sure it would melt through the sleeve of his tunic. But when the tongue released him, there was no mark left behind. The sleeve looked the same as it did just the moment before. The being turned and looked at him, her eyes burning into his. He found himself unable to move, though from fear or awe, he was not sure.