Hers Is The Fury

Delirium & Betrayal?

He tore off a strip of his own cloak and used it to staunch the flow of blood from her arm. She shuddered and moaned in her delirium, her eyes darting back and forth beneath her lashes. Jon's heart ached to see her like this, so strong and determined now reduced to helplessness.

Outside, the city continued to burn, the screams of the dying echoing through the night. The wights seemed to be everywhere, relentless in their pursuit of the living. Jon knew that he couldn't stay here, couldn't protect Dany from them. But he also couldn't abandon her to their mercy. He had to find a way to keep them both alive.

He looked down at Daenerys, her face still pale and bloodied, her breath coming in ragged gasps. He forced himself to be strong for her, to keep his own fear at bay. He had to believe that somehow, they would survive this nightmare.

Jon glanced around the abandoned building, searching for anything that might help them. In one corner, he spotted an old chest. It was rusted and battered, but it might contain something useful. He kicked it open, revealing a jumble of dusty, cobweb-covered items. There was a dagger, rusted beyond use, and a few pieces of jewelry that looked as if they belonged to someone long dead. But there was also a small leather pouch, which rattled as he pulled it out.

He ripped it open, revealing a handful of dried herbs and a crumpled parchment. The writing on the parchment was faded and stained, but he could still make out the words. It was a recipe for a healing potion, one that could staunch the flow of blood and mend wounds. He quickly gathered the herbs and ingredients he needed from the chest and around the room.

With the ingredients in hand, he knelt beside Dany again. He carefully read the instructions, trying to decipher the faded words. As he worked, her eyelids fluttered open. She looked around, disoriented, before focusing on him. Her eyes widened in recognition, and she tried to sit up.

"Jon?" she croaked, her voice barely audible.

He looked up from the ingredients, concern etched on his features. "Shh... you're hurt. I'm going to make you a potion to help you feel better. It'll help with the pain and stop the bleeding. Just rest, all right?" He continued to work, measuring out the herbs and mixing them with water from a nearby flask.

As he tended to her, her mutterings grew more and more incoherent. She thrashed about on the bed, her eyes wild with fear and delirium. Jon tried to soothe her, but she seemed to be caught in a nightmarish cycle, unable to escape her own tormented thoughts. He wished he could take away her pain, wished he could make her understand that he was here to help.

Finally, she lashed out, her fingers clawing at his face. "No!" she screamed, her voice raw and desperate. "You can't have it! It's mine! Mine!" Her nails raked across his cheek, drawing blood. Jon winced in pain, but he didn't let go of her. He couldn't let her hurt herself any further.

"Dany, please," he begged, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing. "You need this. It'll help you feel better." He held the steaming cup close to her face, hoping she would eventually come to her senses. She continued to struggle against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her eyes wild with fear and confusion.

Her resistance only served to fuel his determination. Jon couldn't let her suffer any longer. With all his strength, he forced her head back against the pillow and held her wrists down by her sides. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice strained. "But you have to drink this." He pressed the cup to her lips, forcing her to take a sip.

As she struggled against him, he couldn't help but feel a sharp pain in his shoulder. She'd managed to stab him with the dagger she'd been holding. Blood seeped through his shirt, staining the fabric crimson. For a moment, he thought he might pass out from the pain. But he couldn't let that happen. Not now.