[Chapter Size: 3700 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Essos, 296 AC.

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The man woke up in a dark place, his eyes still dazed from the pounding headache he had after taking a heavy blow from the stranger who had opened the place where he was hiding.

Remembering this gave him a shiver immediately, thinking he might have been taken by that monster who captured him, and he quickly looked ahead in a nervous burst.

His fears were confirmed when the form of a man appeared in front of him, illuminated only by the dim light of distant candles.

“You finally woke up…” The voice from the other side made the man tremble slightly as his body’s adrenaline seemed to kick in, as if he were about to die, according to his survival instincts.

“Can you understand me? I don’t have much practice with the bastard Valyrian you lot speak in Slaver’s Bay… son of the harpy… Yes, I already know that, but my question is, why did you infiltrate the city even before I arrived and waited for a chance to attack my family?” The voice from the other side was slow, but cold and dark, making the man wonder what would happen to him here.

“What’s wrong… won’t you say anything? I’m waiting for you to start talking, we have some time for that, and from your reaction, I know you can hear me.” Jon commented, looking at the man with a gleam in his eyes.

“…” The man didn’t respond, as the Arctic king sighed, starting to draw a 45-centimeter blade from a dagger he had received from the Red Priests. He had been given it when he left the temple after speaking with the Lord of Light. He couldn’t say it was bad—after all, it was Valyrian steel.

The man saw this, and before enduring full torture without wanting to say anything to this person, he bit his tongue as hard as he could—at least he wouldn’t die being eaten by birds. He was calm enough to die from blood loss.

Jon saw the blood explode from the man’s mouth at that moment and raised an eyebrow but kept a calm gaze on him. “So that’s how you plan to escape… What a disappointment.” He commented calmly as the man let out a loud groan of pain, with blood pouring from his mouth.

“…” The man only looked at him, waiting to die before the torture could begin.

“If you want it so much… then I intend to help you.” Jon said in a neutral tone. In the next moment, he moved his arm, raising the blade before striking the man’s thigh, making him jerk in pain, groaning intensely as he couldn’t scream with his tongue hanging out.

“That doesn’t seem to be enough, does it?” Jon asked with a curious look at the struggling man, who tried to flee but was held back as Jon grabbed his arm. In the next moment, the sound of bones breaking was heard as the man moaned in agony at the sensation but couldn’t react much.

Jon saw the man crying as blood dripped from the chair, but he had no pity for him, watching as the man looked at him with fear like never before, hoping to die soon and escape this torture.

“You’re in too much of a hurry; after all, we’re only just getting started.” Jon said, and in the next moment, he pushed the blade deeper into the man’s thigh, tearing through his skin as he screamed with all the strength his throat could muster, only producing an intense groan of pain before losing consciousness.

Everything went dark for a while, and then he finally woke up, startled, thinking about the nightmare he’d just had. He couldn’t see anything in front of him, thinking about what he had just gone through, feeling that it was all a recent and rather painful memory.

“You finally woke up, I was already thinking of cutting you to wake you up.” The voice made the man look ahead in fright, seeing the man from the dream waiting for him, the blade lowered, but with blood on it. His gaze dropped to the floor, seeing himself covered in blood.

“What’s going on…?” He managed to speak, deeply terrified, unable to understand what was happening—after all, the pain was gone, and he could even speak again.

“If you’re trying to understand… I’ll explain it to you easily.” Jon spoke, and in the next moment, his thigh was pierced once more as Jon moved like lightning, striking the man’s skin.

“AHHHHH!!!!” The man screamed in agony.

“…” Jon didn’t care as he removed the Valyrian steel dagger and touched the injured part with his hand, causing a green glow to appear, starting to heal him.

The man didn’t know if he could be more terrified… feeling the pain vanish as if it had never happened.

“You know… the human body can recover from the wound… but the human mind isn’t made to handle extreme peaks of pain while you’re healing… So I don’t care if you try to kill yourself, I’ll help you, and when you’re near death, I’ll heal you again… but I wonder…” Jon continued, not feeling particularly proud of this side of him, but he would do whatever was necessary to find out who was targeting him and his family specifically.

The man only looked at him in terror, trying to escape, but he felt chains holding him in the chair. It was useless to stand up, and he swallowed hard, wondering what kind of situation he had gotten into. Perhaps dying to the birds would have been better.

Jon wasn’t on the main ship; as soon as he took the man to the port, he boarded a nearby ship. After all, he didn’t want his family to hear the screams of the man he was torturing.

He was being cruel, but all he wanted was information about his hidden enemy, and he would find out who it was before burning and destroying them. His royal guards stood at the door, forbidden by the king from entering as he did this himself. They exchanged glances, hearing the man’s screams on the other side of the door, even feeling a chill at how cruel their king could be when necessary.

“You can’t go anywhere right now…” Jon commented, watching the man struggle to free himself, but it was futile.

The man looked at him, trembling. He thought about cutting his tongue again without a second thought, but the monster before him was practically encouraging him to keep going, knowing it was pointless.

“What do you want…?” The man stammered, his voice barely coming out from the fear that gripped him.

“See… you can speak when you want to…” Jon said, looking at him with a satisfied expression. “Now, let’s start talking about why you want to kill me and who your masters are…” Jon commented, as the next hours passed.

Eventually, Jon finally left the room, and as he did, his men made space for him. In the end, Jon emerged with the man’s head, ending his suffering with a quick death. After all, he wouldn’t leave him alive after being part of what had happened.

“Have someone clean the room and get rid of this head,” Jon spoke in a calm tone, while one of them grabbed the dead man’s head.

“Shall we return to the main ship, my king?” another asked, maintaining a bit of caution in his voice.

“Yes… there’s nothing more to be done here,” Jon said as they made their way outside, returning to the ship while the men on board glanced cautiously at Jon, having also heard the man’s screams.

He left some of his soldiers to do what he had asked and boarded the other ship. Inside, Ygritte was waiting for him with a cautious look.

“How is she?” Jon asked. Seeing Arya’s expression when she learned about Hilla’s death had affected him immensely. He didn’t want her to go through anything like that, though he knew it would be impossible for her to avoid facing cruel things in life. That’s why he had tried to prepare her as much as possible, but still, it had hurt him.

“She’s distraught, hasn’t left her friend’s side since she arrived… I’m worried, Jon… and you’re covered in blood…” Ygritte murmured, her gaze falling to the bloodstained clothes Jon was wearing. She knew he had taken the prisoner to the other ship.

“I’m fine… it’s not my blood.” Jon said calmly, as Ygritte looked at him, already knowing that but still worried about her husband. “I’ll go see her.” Jon said, heading into the ship, with Ygritte following him. They went to a room guarded by soldiers, with Daenerys and Rhaenys standing in a corner, looking with pity at Arya and Mearin, who were crying in front of Hilla’s body.

Jon approached her, passing by everyone.

“Arya…” he said, looking at Arya as she turned to him with sadness in her eyes.

“Jon… if I hadn’t convinced her, you…” Arya murmured with a sorrowful expression as she hugged him tightly.

“I’ve already told you, you’re not to blame for this…” Jon said, returning the embrace. “I promise you, whoever is behind this will pay dearly.” Jon spoke with a firm tone.

They stayed there, as Jon consoled her and even reached out to Mearin beside Arya, comforting the girl who was in the same state as Arya.

Meanwhile, outside the ship, sailing towards Volantis, a Dornish ship appeared heading to the city at that moment. The Martell banner was visible, and this was quickly spotted by the Arctic fleet, even though the ship tried to avoid them by sailing “hidden.” But the wargs easily detected it and began passing this information to the king.

It was morning, and though the weather wasn’t ideal, the people in the city were eager to know what had happened. The Arctic men went to explain on Jon’s behalf, quite surprised by the attack from the Sons of the Harpy from Slaver’s Bay. Even more terrifying was how all of them died—killed by thousands of birds and Volantene warriors, slaughtering dozens of men in such a short time. It was obvious to them, with rumors from the West and suspicions that Jon controlled animals, that this was exactly what had happened, making them even more fearful of him.

Jon was leaving most of the matters to his men now, as he sent them to finalize negotiations with the city before they started departing.

He was standing with Arya at the edge of the ship at that moment.

“They came from Slaver’s Bay because they wanted to attack us?” Arya asked, almost as a demand. After all, she was angry, and Jon could understand that.

“A petty reason, thinking we might destroy the slave trade… those bastards don’t even know our real strength, and they believed our relationship with Braavos could hurt the southern Free Cities’ trade. A foolish decision, and I’ll make sure they regret everything they’ve done.” Jon spoke firmly. There were more reasons why they did this, but it didn’t matter now.

“Let me be part of this…” Arya requested.

“I’ll think about it, though I don’t want you acting solely on the impulse of revenge. You could make mistakes in a fight,” Jon warned seriously.

“I can fight well, Jon. Let me be part of this…” she insisted.

“…” Jon didn’t respond.

“You know… before the attack, a red priestess came to me and told me to beware of the Harpy and its sons… At first, I didn’t understand… but now.” Arya murmured.

“Do you remember her…?” Jon asked, as Arya shook her head.

“No… strangely, she feels like a phantom memory… as if she never existed. Not even the guards remember her face.” She said while Jon tried to search the memories of the animals near Arya. There had indeed been a woman in red who approached them, but her image was blurred in all the animals that saw her.

‘How odd… did she use some kind of magic, or was it really her…?’ Jon thought, wondering if it had been a projection with all the information he had. The person might or might not have been in Volantis—it was a mystery, and Jon had nothing to do with it for now.

He was about to finally respond to his sister when an Arctic man approached him with a scroll. Jon nodded to the man to leave, opening it and reading it with a raised eyebrow. After all, Oberyn Martell was arriving, and the fleet was asking if they should take him down.

Jon thought it was foolish to travel under his banner, though it wouldn’t change much. His wargs always investigated any ship passing by the fleet, especially those trying to hide from view.

“Arya, I need to take care of something,” Jon said, leaving the girl still with a sad look as she nodded.

He headed inside and found Rhaenys talking to Daenerys.

“Rhaenys…” Jon called her, and she went to him, receiving the letter from her husband.

“Jon… this…” she murmured with some apprehension, seeing her family behind her. “What do you plan to do?” she asked.

“End this once and for all…” Jon commented with a serious look.

“Wait, Jon… you can’t kill him!” Rhaenys pleaded, catching Daenerys’ attention with her plea.

“We have to end this,” Jon said.

“He’s still my family. I know you don’t like him, but still, I beg you to spare his life…” Rhaenys didn’t want her uncle dead. Despite his rather bad personality to most people, he had taken care of her. She recognized how he had protected her over the years, always talking about how much he loved Elia Martell, her mother.

“…” Jon looked at her for a moment before sighing. “Let’s see what we can do…” was the only thing he said in the end.

The Martell ship continued sailing, with the city now visible on the horizon. It was late afternoon the next day, and they entered the port without stopping, keeping a little distance from the Arctic ships on the other side to avoid being too direct, although Oberyn was always one to act directly.

“You stay on the ship, I’ll handle this,” Oberyn said to his daughters.

“But father… we can fight!” one of them demanded.

“Not this time. I need to deal with him personally, and if something goes wrong, you must leave this place.” He spoke with a serious look, and this time they remained silent.

Some guards approached Oberyn. “What should we do, my lord?” a soldier asked, not knowing how the Prince of Dorne would handle such a force on the other side of the port. They clearly stood no chance.

“We won’t waste any more time. I doubt we can get past all the guards, so let’s go straight for my niece.” He spoke seriously, grabbing his spear and stepping off the ship.

His men quickly followed after their prince, composing themselves. They passed through the port, and strangely, there wasn’t a single guard in sight on their way. They heard things like Azor Ahai and Jon Artica being mentioned by the people in the streets, but it didn’t matter now.

Even a representative of the Tiger faction appeared to greet him, but he had to dismiss them along the way as they got closer and closer to the Arctic ships.

As he finally approached the ships, he saw some Arctic men and giants walking nearby and on the decks of the ships. But what surprised him the most was seeing Jon Artica himself appear on the ship, looking at him seriously as he descended from the prow, approaching him at that moment. He stopped a little way off without guards, though they appeared at the edge of the ship. Still, the Arctic king didn’t want them to follow as he placed one of his swords on the ground, holding it by the pommel with a serious look at Oberyn.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here, Dornish prince. I made it very clear to your brother that I’d kill you the next time I saw you.” Jon spoke in a serious tone.

“I’ll repeat your words back to you, Jon Artica… but I’m here for my niece, whom you kidnapped. She’d better be safe, or things won’t go like they did the last time we fought.” Oberyn replied, venom in his tone as he twirled his spear before striking it on the ground, challenging Jon.

“Your niece is now my wife,” Jon raised an eyebrow. “After all, she’s carrying my child, and I won’t let your brother take my child or her to use them as political pawns…” he spoke firmly, while Oberyn narrowed his eyes.

“I want to see her,” Oberyn demanded from Jon.

Jon was about to reply, but a figure appeared from the prow of the ship. Rhaenys emerged, visibly pregnant. “Uncle,” she murmured, approaching Jon now with guards.

People at the port began to gather as they saw the commotion, while Azor Ahai stood in front of the Dornish with their weapons ready to fight at any moment. It was obvious this was drawing attention.

“Rhaenys, I hope he hasn’t done anything to you, or else…” Oberyn commented, but Rhaenys shook her head.

“Of course not. You know this child is his. Yes, we married through the old gods… He is my husband and the father of this child,” she said firmly.

Oberyn kept his eyes locked on his niece, while silence settled around them. By now, many people from the city and the ship had surrounded them, especially the royal Arctic guards, who remained alert to any movement.

“Do you really want this? You know you have a great birthright… You are his heir. Will you give that up?” Oberyn murmured, demanding an answer from his niece.

“…” Rhaenys waited a few seconds before replying. “Yes. Either way, I would be a queen, even if not of the Seven Kingdoms. I’m happy with what I have, and Artica has proven to be better than the southern kingdoms…” Rhaenys answered. Artica would have loyal people, intelligent and fierce citizens, magic, and dragons. Jon’s vision for the kingdom was revolutionary, something far better than the Seven Kingdoms.

Perhaps her son could claim the Iron Throne in the future if Jon had any interest in passing down his legacy with hers, though she doubted that if he ever conquered the Seven Kingdoms, he would leave an heir to rule the entire continent alone.

“Rhaenys… you know you are loved by me, as your mother was, so I will ask once more: do you really want this? If it’s a yes, I will leave and let you follow your desire.” He spoke once more to confirm, ready to fight the Articans if necessary, should she want to return to Dorne.

“Yes, uncle, I truly want this. I will live with Jon. I don’t know what our future will be, but this is what I desire. I will be Queen of Artica!” she said firmly, as Jon had made it very clear that this was her position in the kingdom and that she would live with him for the rest of her days.

Oberyn remained silent for a few seconds before nodding. “Very well, then. I wish you a happy life, niece. I hope you live better than your mother did. If that bastard treats you like that damned Rhaegar treated Elia, I swear I will invade Artica and kill him.” He said, while the Articans didn’t take kindly to the threat. But Jon, surprisingly, didn’t get angry, even being taken aback by what he heard.

“Uncle…” Rhaenys murmured, watching her uncle’s back disappear into the port as he left with his Dornish guards.

She knew that Doran wouldn’t be happy with how things had turned out, but she was relieved to be able to live the life she always wanted, with control over her destiny, and not under her uncle Doran’s commands. After all, she loved Jon, and he was her family.

Jon showed no reaction as he watched the Prince of Dorne leave, and he began to gain some respect for the man he had wanted to kill not long ago. He then returned to Rhaenys. “Well, let’s go back inside. We have no further business with him.” Rhaenys nodded and followed her husband, returning to the ship with his help.

Jon stayed at the port that night, with negotiations with Volantis already completed. There was no reason for him to remain in the city. Before the sun rose, they began preparing to depart, and the ships were nearly ready.

Many high-ranking nobles tried to speak with him, as did the Red Priests, but he ignored them all, already tired of the place and not in the mood for further interactions.

They set sail from Volantis, heading directly to their next destination. It would be quite risky, but Jon knew the rewards there would be unimaginable. And so, he departed for Valyria, the land ruled by fire.

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Raccoon Here:

The third volume is finished, there will be no more negotiations as the main focus, and we’ll start the fourth one, which will focus on exploration and wars.

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