"Fire and Blood"

By Loki Palmer

Author's Note: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling. The TV series Game of Thrones belongs to HBO, David Benioff and D.B. Weiss. The book series on which it is based belongs to George R.R. Martin.

Back when I first wrote the short for my Madhouse Kitchen, I did not see Season 6 of Game of Thrones yet. Now that I have, I don't know how much of the original idea will change. I reckon I will keep most, if not all, of it as I have written it.

Chapter 1

How could it come to this?

So thought Jon Snow, once the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, as his wounded body lay bleeding outside Castle Black.

Am I dead? If so, what happens now? Would the Old gods or the New gods let me see my father? I knew Ser Aliser hated me, but how could Olly, my faithful steward, do this to me? Damn those traitors to the depths of the Seventh Hell along with Rast and the other murderers of my predecessor, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont … if they wish to die at the hands of the White Walkers and their Army of the Dead, so be it.

He saw his body on the snow as his spirit left for regions unknown …

~FIRE AND BLOOD~

At the end of his journey, he found himself within a large white carriage station. Ned Stark was there to greet him with a hug and they sat down on a bench.

"Iċ tealde þē sē nīehst tīma wē mētton, iċ wolde þē mā be mōdore þīne tellan. Hit biþ scamu þā lēoda iċ trēowede lugon mē, eallswā sē Nihtweard lēag þē." (I told you the next time we met, I would tell you more about your mother. It is a shame the people I trusted betrayed me, as the Night's Watch betrayed you.)

"Þā Sēofon āwiergen Olly, Ser Aliser Þorn, ond Bowen Marsce."(The Seven damn Olly, Ser Aliser Thorne, and Bowen Marsh.)

"Þā Sēofon āwiergen Lȳtelfinger ond Janos Slynt. His dēaþ wæs sōþliċe ġerihte " (The Seven damn Littlefinger and Janos Slynt. His death was justice indeed.)

"Hū cnēowe þū ymbe þæt?" (How did you know about that?)

"Þēah iċ bēo dēada on Westeros, gāst mīn siehþ hwæt wierþeþ þēr. Þēah iċ rǣrde þē eallswā mīn hornungsunu, iċ ne bēo þīn fæder." (Though I am dead in Westeros, my spirit sees what happens there. Though I raised you as my bastard son, I am not your father.)

Jon shook with suppressed rage. "Ābīde. Þū sæġdest mē: Þū ne meaht habban mīn nama habban, ac þū hæfst mīn blōd. Luge þū?" (Wait. You said to me: You may not have my name, but you have my blood. Did you lie?)

"Nā. Iċ macode hāt þīnre modore tō cēppane þē hæle, swā iċ namade þē hornungsunu mĩn." (Nay. I made a promise to your mother to keep you safe, so I named you my bastard son.)

"Þīn brōðor ealder, Brandon –ne hæfde hē ċild beforan his dēaþ fȳrære fram þǣm Cyninge Mād? (Your older brother, Brandon – he didn't have a child before his fiery death from the Mad King?)

"Nā, hē ne hæfde." (Nay, he did not.)

"Þæt mǣneþ … Lianna Stearc … hēo biþ modor mīnu ..." (That means … Lyanna Stark … she's my mother …)

Ned nodded.

"Ac þæt mǣneþ … hwenne funde þū mē?" (... But that means … when did you find me?)

"Iċ fand hīe mid þē on bedde blōdes … æfter þǣm dēaþ Æþelingas Rhaegar ..." (I found her with you in a bed of blood … after the death of Prince Rhaegar ...)

"Hē ferede hīe onweġ, þus hē began þā wiġ … ābide, biþ hē fæder mīn? Þū sæġdest iċ wæs hornungsunu þīn ..." (He kidnapped her, thus he began the wars … wait, he's my father? You said I was your bastard …)

Ned laid his hand on Jon's shoulder. "... Tō beorganne þē fram Cyninge Robert, ġēa. Þū bist Ioannes Targarien, mid þǣm blōde þæs dracan ond þæs scaðawulfes. Winter biþ cumende, ond þā heriġas þāra dēadan cumaþ mid þæt. (... To protect you from King Robert, aye. You are Jon Targaryen, with the blood of the dragon and the direwolf. Winter is coming, and the armies of the dead come with it.)

Rhaegar Targaryen appeared, hair silver as the moon and purple eyes that blazed like the dragon of his House. He laid his hand on Jon's other shoulder. "Mid fȳre ond blōde, sunu mīn, þū scealt āġenrīsan ond oferdrīfan þæt grēatost frēcen þā Sēofon Rīcu habbaþ ġeseġen. Eallswā Faðu þīnu, Daneris, hafaþ ġesæġd: Fȳr ne cann dracan derian." (With fire and blood, my son, you will rise again and defeat the greatest danger the Seven Kingdoms have faced. As your Aunt Daenerys has said: Fire cannot harm a dragon.)

Jon screamed as if a fire burned in him and through him.

"Lōca, Ned, sēo āwedenes biþ worþende … sē draca āwæceþ … þā god hæbben mildheortnesse on hise fēondum ..." (Look, Ned, the change is happening … the dragon awakes … may the gods have mercy on his foes ...)

The last words Jon heard before his father and uncle faded from view were, "Maca ūs heāhmōdan." (Make us proud.)

~FIRE AND BLOOD~

The traitors, led by Ser Aliser Thorne, came back to the Lord Commander's corpse. "Biernaþ hine," (Burn him,) he said. "Wē ne willaþ hine eallswā part þæs heriġes þāra dēadan tō wacianne." (We don't want him to wake up as part of the army of the dead.)

Much to their collective horror, the fire did not burn Jon's body. On the contrary – it breathed new life into him and healed his wounds.

He opened his eyes, which were now the fiery purple of his father.

"Hwæt on Sēofon Hellum biþ þes dweomorcraft?!" (What in the Seven Hells is this sorcery?!) said some of the traitors.

Jon smirked as he rose to his feet. "Eā, ne wiston ġe? Fȳr ne cann dracan derian … ac iċ eom ġewiss þæt cann ēow darian!" (Oh, did you not know? Fire cannot harm a dragon … but I'm sure it can harm you!)

With a burst of flame from his mouth, Jon roasted most of the traitors. Olly ran as fast as he could, but Jon ran faster and hoisted him by his throat.

"Ġief mē ān gōd rihtrace hwȳ iċ ne sceolde þē for hlāfordsearwe allswā cwellan." (Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you also for treason.)

"Hlāford mīn, iċ þinge þē, haf mildheortness!" (M'lord, I beg you, have mercy!)

Jon gave him a malicious grin. "Sariġ, þū ne ġeærnest mīn mildheortnesse ... " (Sorry, you do not deserve my mercy ...)

"Hlāford mīn!" (M'lord!)

"Grēt Hlāford Slint þū þa siehst on þǣm Sēofon Hellum, læwa!" (Greet Lord Slynt when you see him down in the Seven Hells, traitor!)

He threw Olly into the air and charred his body while it was flying.

Seven hells! thought the other members of the Night's Watch who witnessed the carnage in fear ...

This first dream cut to another. Jon was sitting down in Winterfell's Great Hall before a gathering of soldiers and lords, his cousin Sansa sitting at his side.

One of the lords stood up. "Hlafdiġe Mormont heardlīċe ond trēowlīċe spriceþ. Mīn sunu stearf for Robb Stearc, se Ġeonga Wulf. Iċ ne þōhte wē sceoldon ānōþer Cyning findan, on mīnum life. Iċ ne behytan mīne menn andweorce þīn, þæs iċ ne wolde māra Manderlis for nāhte tō stēorfannne. Sed iċ wæs unriht. Ioannes Snawa þēodwræc þā Rēadan Weddung! Hē biþ sē Hwīta Wulf!"

(Lady Mormont speaks harshly and truly. My son died for Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. I did not think we should find another King, in my life. I did not commit my men to your cause, because I did not want more Manderlys to die for nothing. But I was wrong. Jon Snow avenged the Red Wedding! He is the White Wolf!)

He drew his sword and made a salute. "Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum!" (The King in the North!)

Another lord stood up. "Iċ ne feaht be sīdan þīn on þǣm felda, Ond iċ sceal besorgian þæt oð mīn stierfende dæġ. Mann ǣnlīċ cann hē wæs unriht andettan, ond āscian forġiefnesse." (I did not fight beside you in the field. And I shall regret that until my dying day. A man only can admit he was wrong, and ask forgiveness.)

Jon nodded. "Þēr biþ nāþing tō forġiefan, hlāford mīn." (There is nothing to forgive, my lord.)

The second lord turned to his fellow lords as he said, "Þēr sceal māu feoht cuman! Hūs Glōfere sceal beæften Hūse Stearc standan, eallswā wē hæfdon for þūsend ġeare standen. Ond iċ sceal beæften Ioannes Snawa standan…" (There shall be many battles to come! House Glover shall stand behind House Stark, as we have stood for a thousand years. And I shall stand behind Jon Snow …) He drew his sword and saluted. "Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum!" (The King in the North!)

Other lords got to their feet and cheered, along with young Lady Mormont. "Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum! Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum! Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum! Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum! Sē Cyning on þǣm Norþum!" (The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North!)

Sirius woke up with a start.

~FIRE AND BLOOD~

Hermione woke up from her dream about an alcoholic dwarf with a clever brain and a silver-haired woman who had dragons.

She heard his story that he told to a young bastard: "Hwæt þū siehst biþ dweorg. Ġif iċ wæs būr boren, hīe meahton hæfdon innan þā fryhþa mē tō steorfanne forwupon. Ēalā, iċ wæs Lanister Casterli Stānes boren. Þing sind of mē ġebasniod. Mīn fæder wæs sēo Hand þæs Cyninges for twentiġ ġeare …"

(What you see is a dwarf. If I had been born a peasant, they might have thrown me into the woods to die. Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Things are expected of me. My father was the Hand of the King for twenty years …)

"Oð þīn brōðor cwealde hine," (Until your brother killed him) said the bastard.

The dwarf smirked as he rolled his eyes. "Ġēa, oð mīn brōðor cwealde hine. Līf biþ full of þissa lýtelan hīwunga. Mīnu sweostor weddode þone nīwan cyning, ond mīn lāþlic nefe sceal cyning æfter him bēon. Iċ mōt part mīn for þære mærnesse mīnes hūses tō dōnne, ācordest þū? Ac hū? Wel, mīn brōðor hafaþ his sweord, ond iċ hæbbe mīn ġemynd – ond ġemynd þearf bēċ eallswā sweord þearf hwettanstān. Þæt biþ hwī iċ rǣde swā miċel, Ioannes Snawa."

(Yes, until my brother killed him. Life is full of these little ironies. My sister married the new king, and my repulsive nephew shall be king after him. I must do my part for the glory of my house, you agree? But how? Well, my brother has his sword, and I have my mind – and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone. That is why I read so much, John Snow.)

She saw the silver-haired woman smack her abusive older brother – in the middle of a beating from the same – and say to him with stormy eyes glaring fire: "Iċ bēo Xalisi þāra Doþracis! Iċ bēo sēo wīf þæs miċelles Xal ond iċ bera on mē his sunu! Sē nīehst tīma þū mē rīsest hand sceal sē endemest tīma þū hæfst handa bēon!"

(I am a Khaleesi of the Dothraki! I am the wife of the great Khal and I bear his son in me! The next time you raise a hand to me shall be the last time you have hands!)

She saw their respective journeys that led them to meet each other.

"Iċ ne gā þē tō cwellanne," (I am not going to kill you,) she said to him.

"Gǣst þū mē tō forsendan?" (Are you going to banish me?) he said.

"Nā." (No.)

"Þū ne gǣst mē tō cwellanne, þū ne gǣst mē tō forsendan …" (You are not going to kill me, you are not going to banish me …)

"Þū gǣst mē tō ġelǣranne …" (You are going to advise me …) she said, reaching over and taking his wine cup away, "…þende þū cann on cwideum fullum ġiēt sprecan." (…while you can yet speak in complete sentences.)

The dwarf gave her an amused smirk.

~FIRE AND BLOOD~

As for Harry, he had dreamed about a young woman with eyes that spoke of danger and death. If a person tried to kill her, much less to cross her, bad trouble – most often in the form of the person's death – followed in the wake of her anger.

Back in the present day, Sirius, Hermione, and Harry had the same thoughts on their minds: Who were these people? What have they to do with me?

Author's Note: Another start to what could be another interesting fanfic. Read and review!

Smiles and laughter,

Loki Palmer