Broken Wheel

Spoiler Alert. Set after episode 5.

Blood. Ash. Dust. He could feel it everywhere. On his skin, his nose, his lungs. He had still the taste of it on his mouth, bitter as it should be, with that warmer undertone that chilled his bone.

Jon was clean of it, though. Two days since that bloodshed, it was. Two days that seemed like two seconds ago. It was still all so clear, the feeling, the mess, the smells of bodies burning, their owners crying for a mercy that never came, or for a death that was taking her time, slowly roasting them alive.

He felt like throwing up.

He felt disgust. Pain in his head, his eyes, his hands that were shaking. Pain in his stomach, that growled for lack of anything solid since these two days. Nothing solid, but still he felt full. Full of filth. Full of hate. Full of rage.

All of this. All the burning. All the bodies.

All because of her. Daenerys. The Dragon Queen.

The one who burned them all.