The Demon of Winterfell

Chapter Forty-One: Aegon

When Edd returned to the office, Tormund was beside him. They both stepped up to Jon. "Took a lot of knives," Tormund noted as he looked over the stab wounds. "I'll have my men get the wood for a fire. Bodies to burn."

He stepped back from the table, leaving the room. Edd and Davos shared a look before looking back down at Jon.

When Davos retrieved Melisandre a second time, he went with a hopeful wish that she could somehow bring Jon back. When the two returned, they began the process. It was strange. Melisandre doubted herself, and instead she guided Emmelyne through the steps. It involved stripping down Jon, the only covering a thin cloth. Emmelyne wet a cloth, wiping away the blood from his bare chest. Davos, Edd, and Melisandre watched her closely. Once the blood was cleared away, Emmelyne began the second step. With a pair of scissors she trimmed away Jon's hair, speaking Valyrian that Melisandre had taught her. Each lock of his hair was dropped it into the fire. By the time she was finished, his hair and beard were shorter. She glanced at Melisandre, picking up a pitcher of water and beginning the Valyrian again. Her fingers held his dark locks, pouring the water out over his hair. Once his hair was soaked completely, she stood over his body, placing her hands on his chest with shaking hands. She uttered the final Valyrian phrase. She lifted her hands. Nothing. She lowered them again, lifting them back up. Valyrian once more. And then she whispered to herself, "Lord, cast your light upon this man, my brother. Bring him back from death and darkness. His flame has been extinguished. Restore it. For the night is dark and full of terrors. Please."

Nothing. No movement, no reaction, not even a single breath. She took a few steps back. "I'm sorry," she said softly to everyone in the room.

Tormund scoffed, leaving the office. Melisandre gazed at her apologetically, and Davos just stood rooted in place. Edd seemed sad. Melisandre followed Tormund. Then Edd. Davos looked at Jon one last time before he left. But Emmelyne remained. She took Jon's hand in hers, a few small tears starting to fall down her cheeks. "Please," she begged. "Please Jon. Come back. For me."

It was useless, she knew. He wouldn't come back. She slowly leaned over, kissing his forehead. "I going to miss you, big brother. You'll miss me, won't you?"

She didn't want to leave him. Didn't want to truly be gone. She smoothed her thumb along his hand, sighing softly. "I love you, big brother. Promise me. Promise me that you'll come back."

Her mind went to a woman, lying in a bed, surrounded by blood. "Promise me, Ned," she whispered.

Emmelyne tried to shake the thought out of her mind. From their spot on the floor, Ghost and R'hllor woke from their sleeps. R'hllor's eyes fixated on Emmelyne, but Ghost looked up at Jon, whining softly. And then Jon's eyes opened, and he took his first breaths. Emmelyne gasped, stumbling back from the table, hitting the wall. She didn't think it had worked. Jon slowly sat up, his eyes landing on his little sister. His dark eyes went wide. "Jon?" she whispered.

The door opened, and Davos stood there. He looked first at Emmelyne, and then at Jon. There was silence as Jon gave a few more ragged breaths. He slowly looked at Davos. Ghost got to his feet, staring at Jon with his red eyes. Jon looked at down at the scars on his chest, his fingers brushing along one of them but his hand jerking away when he touched it. He began shaking, panting and gasping for air. Davos swept off his cloak, hurrying to the table. Jon tried to stand, but his legs collapsed under his weight, sending him falling into Davos, who wrapped him in the cloak. Emmelyne made her way toward the two. "Easy, easy," Davos urged Jon, sitting him down on a stool.

Melisandre stepped inside next. Shock was evident on her face as she took in Jon. Davos looked at the Lord Commander. "What do you remember?" he asked.

Jon took a few more breaths before answering. "They stabbed me. Olly... he put a knife in my heart," he shook his head slowly. "I shouldn't be here."

"Your little sister brought you back," Davos said.

Melisandre hurried up to Jon. "Afterwards, after they stabbed you, after you died, where did you? What did you see?" she demanded.

Jon shook his head. "Nothing. There was nothing at all."

"The Lord let you come back for a reason. Stannis was not the prince who was promised, but someone has to be."

Emmelyne had heard that phrase before. It seemed like forever ago, but Vyreo had said that perhaps she was this 'prince who was promised.' He'd called her the princess, however. Davos sighed. "Could you give us a moment?" he asked.

Melisandre stood, and Emmelyne moved toward the door. Emmelyne looked at Davos. "Let me speak to him when you're finished," she said.

"Of course, my lady," Davos nodded.

So Melisandre and Emmelyne left the office, R'hllor following, and Davos closing the door behind them.

When Emmelyne went to her room, she was tired. She had barely slept during the nights spent in Jon's office. Truth be told, she was surprised she was still able to stand. She collapsed on the bed, R'hllor jumping up beside her. Her gray eyes closed.

There was man. Emmelyne somehow knew that it was her father. He stood outside of a tower, blood and bodies surrounding. A scream of excruciating pain echoed from the tower, and Ned ran inside. Emmelyne started to follow him. "Father?" she questioned, and the young Ned stopped.

He looked around, but did not see her, standing only a foot behind him. He continued into the tower, Emmelyne close at his heels as the screams continued. Ned shoved open the door at the top of the tower, where two handmaidens stood by a bed. "Ned?" a woman's voice asked.

"Lyanna," Ned said.

He propped his sword at the foot of the bed, moving to Lyanna's side. This was Emmelyne's aunt, and King Robert was right. She and Emmelyne looked exactly alike. Blood stained the yellow blanket on the bed, and sweat beaded on Lyanna's forehead. "Is that you?" she questioned.

Ned looked down at the blood, watching Lyanna weakly raise her hand from the blanket. "Is that really you?" she continued.

Ned took her hand in his own, uncaring of the red that spotted her pale skin. She managed a smile at her older brother. "You're not a dream?" she said.

"No, I'm not a dream. I'm here. Right here," Ned replied.

"I've missed you, big brother."

"I've missed you, too."

Lyanna let out a whimper, her voice breaking as she uttered one phrase. "I want to be brave."

"Shh," Ned consoled. You are."

"I'm not."

Ned looked at her other hand, this one covered in even more blood than the one he still gripped. "I don't want to die," she admitted.

"You're not going to die," Ned stated.

She was crying now, and Ned turned to the handmaidens. "Get her some water," he urged.

"No, no water, just listen," Lyanna said weakly.

"Is there a maester?"

"Listen to me, Ned," she said, taking his cheek in her hand and turning him toward her.

He leaned close, and she whispered in his ear. "His name is Aegon Targaryen. If Robert finds out, he'll kill him, you know he will. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned. Promise me."

She let out a sob as Ned slowly started to rise to his feet. From next to him, a baby started to cry. One of the handmaidens slowly lowered the child into Ned's arms. He looked down at the baby, which peered up at him with eyes that Emmelyne had seen many times before. Eyes that reopened only minutes before the vision. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna continued. "Promise me."

Emmelyne stepped closer. "Jon," she murmured.

Lyanna lifted her head, and her eyes fell on Emmelyne. She smiled, speaking quietly in a voice that only Emmelyne heard. "You look just like me."