After a night camped in a hollow hill filled with weirwood roots, the band sent after Gregor Clegane headed to the Mummer's Ford. Sam rode with Jon near the center of the group with Ghost at his side. Rather than spend the day riding in full plate, Jon kept in his Stark guard mail shirt, surcoat, steel cap and gray wool cloak with white satin borders. He kept his sword secure around his waist while Dark Sister sat hidden in his bags beside his egg. Sam wore his guard gear as well, his bow and quiver hanging from his saddle while his new sword hung from his waist.
"Have you ever seen it?" Sam asked Edric as the squire rode beside them.
"Once," Edric nodded. "I sneaked into the armory and got caught, but then Aunt Allyria showed me Dawn anyway. She wouldn't let me touch it though."
"I'm sure she wants you to earn it," said Jon.
Edric laughed. "Maybe in a dozen years if I practice every day."
"Ser Barristan said I wasn't half as good as I am now when I first came to King's Landing," Jon said looking to the young squire. "I was your age then. If you want it, by the time you're my age you'll be twice as good."
Edric's shy smile faded as he arched his brow. "But didn't you train every day with Ser Barristan and Ser Loras?"
"Ser Jaime as well," Sam added.
Jon's faced darkened a bit as he nodded. "Aye, Ser Domeric helped as well. Even Sam would give me advice from time to time. I watched others fight, read history books to study strategies they used. All of it adds to your experience, lets you handle things better, but what determines your skill is you. Maybe you won't have Dawn by the time you're my age, but if you want it and work for it, you'll wield it."
"Do you still think we'll be okay?" Sam asked Jon, looking around at their company now nearly forty men fewer since Ser Marq Piper and Karyl Vance took their men after hearing of the battle in the hills below Golden Tooth.
Jon had been tempted to leave as well when Jaime Lannister was mentioned, but remembered Lord Stark's words. Looking to Sam he answered, "This is my first act. It will end with us standing tall above a river run red with blood."
Watching Jon move his horse ahead, Edric moved his closer to Sam. "He isn't as I expected. I know they treat baseborn differently than they do in Dorne, yet he shows little of it."
"It was there before we left to bring the Starks from Winterfell," Sam revealed. "But since then he has been more a knight than a bastard."
They were nearing the river when Jon neared Raymun Darry. "Ser Raymun," he called, making the knight turn his head.
The knight greeted Jon with a nod. "Ser Jon."
"I understand Darry isn't too far from here, just east to the Trident?"
"That is correct," Raymun nodded, adding grimly. "Not far from the Ruby Ford."
"I read you lost three brothers in the battle," said Jon.
"That was only the start of our loss," Raymun sighed. "Next came our land, our wealth, our power… Our house has been left little more than most landed knights."
"A shame," Jon said to Raymun's surprise. "Loyalties don't lesson the value of one's life or diminish their courage. Surely that is what it takes to ride to war, or sneak away with the remnants of those you support as Ser Willem Darry did."
Raymun arched his brow. "What would you know of it?"
"My father is Lord Hand," Jon said holding his reins. "He knows more of the Targaryens than most."
"How to slay them perhaps."
Jon laughed. "Less than you might imagine, Ser Raymun. He isn't Robert Baratheon."
When they reached the Mummer's Ford Sam had been speaking with Anguy, who had taken to giving him advice after seeing Sam practicing with his own bow. A quiet came upon the company as they passed through the silent streets. Sam had thought them empty until he saw the bodies. Men cut across the back, woman laying with their throats opened and blood pooled between their legs, pieces of babes laying where there were cut through while nursing. The stench of death caked the town masked in terror as all inhabits lay dead.
They had barely made it through the town when Ghost began to growl, making Jon glance down and look around. Sam gasped. "Ambush!"
The men all drew their arms as a moment later they heard the clink of armored men rushing toward them and soon saw the Lannister forces closing in on them. "Fall back!" Beric called out, tugging on his horse's reins.
He started the charging retreat when he suddenly saw the massive figure of the Mountain the Rides charging toward him with a lance in hand. With only his sword in hand, Beric prepared to try and deflect the lance until a streak of white flew past him and Ghost bit into the horse's leg, causing it to scream in pain and flip forward, throwing the Mountain from his saddle, snapping the lance against the ground.
With Gregor down the company clashed with his men as Ghost went around tearing throats from horses, leaving the men trapped under them while Beric lead the others back to the river.
Though ten men died the rest managed to reach the river, Jon staying at Sam's side as he took panicked breaths watching the men clashing around them. When Jon parried the strike of a man in a surcoat showing the Myatt sigil, another from house Hamell swung at him. With a gasp Sam swung his sword up, letting the soldier's sword bounce off his while Jon swung his sword back, slashing into the man's chest plate and knocking him from his horse before he and Sam sped away.
The Lannister forces rushed out to meet them in the riverbed, the water barely past their horses ankles. It was Alyn who called out to the others, "Make south!"
They began moving south along the river, fighting off mounted Lannister men while others on foot chased after them. Jon saw Lothar Mallery knocked off his horse by a blow from a men in Lefford colors. Just as his face landed in the water, Ghost arrived to yank him free, letting him choke and cough, spitting up water while Raymun Darry rode to his side, stopping his horse from running.
"Ghost!" Jon called as he saw Ser Gregor Clegane riding toward them. His massive size let him wield his greatsword one handed, holding it on his shoulder ready to slash at them until Ghost dashed forward and ducked into the water. Gregor's sword brushed past his fut before Ghost rose and bit into the horse's stomach. It bucked, again throwing Gregor clear of the saddle, tumbling through the water.
His white fur spotted red, Ghost turned and rushed back toward Jon as Raymun Darry helped Lothar Mallery onto his horse.
"Make for the pass," Alyn said pointing to a closed off path just off the edge of the river.
Men tried to strike at Gregor while he was down, but their lances snapped against his heavy armor. That left them open for his men to rush in and skewer them on pikes while Gregor slammed his fist into the rocky riverbed and stood. His gaze hardened as he found Jon parrying blows from a man of House Brax before Thoros came up from behind and stuck his sword through the man's neck. "I'm going to kill that fucking wolf."
Ghost deftly dodged crossbow bolt, downing their wielders while Anguy turned at the pass and loosed arrows on the Lannisters to cover their retreat. Alyn joined him, parrying the blow of a Lannister man who slashed at Beric, letting the lightning Lord turn and stab the man through the throat.
"Come," Alyn called out as the soldier fell from his horse, which ran off into the woods while the guard waved the man toward the pass, "hurry!"
When Jon joined them Sam was confused to see Jon turn his horse around. "I'll guard the rear," he told Beric and Alyn.
"Jon," Alyn shook his head, "Lord Stark-"
"Isn't here," he told them. "Lead the men. I'll guard the rear with a few others. We can hold them off, give you time before we turn and run. It'll be easy enough for a few of us to lose them."
"I'll join you," Gladden Wylde said he approached, his sword red with blood.
"Jon-"
"Go with them," Jon cut Sam off before he could say more.
Sam shook his head. "I won't leave you."
Jon met his eyes, grabbing Sam by his collar. "That is an order." The others look on confused as Sam frowned and nodded, accepting Jon's command as tears stung his eyes.
"Don't die, Jon."
Jon thought of riding in the tourney, remembering that invincible feeling he had when he faced Loras, Jaime and Sandor. "I won't," Jon assured, adjusting the wooden Stark shield on his left arm.
Edric frowned as he watched Beric ride to Jon's side. "Your father asked me to guard you and bring you to Winterfell once we were done." Jon looked to him with a look that told him he wouldn't be talked down, so Beric sighed. "Fine. Then I'll stay with you."
"They're your men," Jon told him. "Lead them."
Thoros rode to Jon's side. "Go, I'll stay with the boy."
Alyn turned to Beric. "Make for Sherrer, then head for Hollow Hill."
"Ser Alyn-"
"I'm no Ser," he said turning to join Ser Jon Snow, Ser Gladden Wylde, Anguy, Thoros of Myr and a dozen men to guard the path as Beric led the others.
Ghost rushed to join them, growling at the line of men charging toward them. Jon's blade was still clean as he parried strikes until killed the rider's horse, letting him fall over and be crushed under hood by his comrades rushing to attack them. With only his normal slender blade he had little hope of slicing through their armor or even their mail shirts, and by the time he'd prepared a riposte to strike their gaps Ghost had ripped open their horses. When they tried to attack from the ground Ghost was there to push them over and rip at their throats or bite into their arms deep enough it wasn't long before they bled out.
A roar drew their eyes to the river where Gregor Clegane rode atop a stolen stallion. Ghost looked ready to attack again, but Jon spotted a man aiming a crossbow from behind another rider. "Ghost, back!"
Instead of going behind him as he intended, Ghost dashed to the side, taking a curving path to leap up and slam into the man with the crossbow. The landed in the river and Ghost tore out his throat while the man fired a bolt into the back of another horse, causing it to rear and throw the rider back.
Jon raised his shield to take a swing from Gregor's greatsword. His arm felt numb as the strike dug into the wooden Stark guard shield, nearly reaching his arm. Jon released it, letting the greatsword take it as Gregor swung it back up, throwing the cleaved shield behind him.
Alyn tried to strike at Gregor's hip, but found his sword glanced off Gregor's armor. When he went to bring his greatsword down on the guard captain, Gladden Wylde threw his dagger at the Mountain, distracting him as Alyn pulled his horse back, avoiding the slash.
Jon turned his blade and struck for the eye slit of the Mountain's helm, but Gregor shifted his head, letting is slice across the side, leaving barely a scrape. Taking his greatsword in both hands, Gregor turned in his saddle, slashing down at an angle as a series of harsh pops heralded the searing pain stretching across Jon's torso as Gregor's greatsword cut through his silver mail.
With a yell, Jon pulled on his reins, leaning back and turning the horse. He swung his sword at the Mountain, weakly glancing off his pauldron as blood poured down his torso and legs. Anguy quickly fired two arrows at Gregor, drawing his attention when one glanced off his eye slit only because Gregor turned his head slightly.
"Jon!" Thoros cried, reaching for a bottle to pour it's contents across his sword before striking it against a piece of flint. The sword ignited in brilliant green flame, startling the horses of the men who came for him. He began to slash wildly, startling the horses he passed as he moved to Jon and grabbed his reins, "Hold on, boy!"
"G-Ghost," Jon called out shakily, barely holding on to his sword. He tossed it back into its scabbard hanging from his saddle, trying to take the reins from Thoros, but too weak to pull them from his grasp.
"Retreat!" Alyn called out, leading the remaining men to turn their horses and gallop down the pass.
Gregor started to follow, but found himself falling again as Ghost ripped through the back leg of his horse, stopping to shoot him a glare, his fur caked in blood to match his eyes before turning to run after Jon, avoiding a crossbow bolt.
The longer they followed the more their horses died to Ghost and Anguy. They tried targeting the wolf but he hid behind trees, used other horses and riders to block their aim, and seemed to slip into shadows while Anguy fired arrows at them. By the time they reached Sherrer the only soldiers following them were far enough they never saw the men bypass the town completely, heading toward the Hollow Hill.
Beneath the weirwood roots Sam went around helping the injured men as best he could when a guard called out, "Riders!"
That caused all the men to take up arms and prepare for an attack. Even Sam drew his sword, fighting back a shiver that broke when another called out, "It's Thoros!"
People started to gather around the entrance before one of the Stark guards, Harwin, called back, "Get water and clean cloth!"
Sam heard people dismounting and hurrying inside while others tended to the horses. Then he felt his fear give way to tears upon seeing Thoros of Myr carrying Jon in his arms, blood dripping from what seemed to be the entire lower half of his body. His skin was pale, looking half dead already as he struggled to stay awake.
Ghost, also stained red, whimpered as he followed Thoros inside. Beric's eyes widened while Edric fought off his panic to motion Thoros toward a tangle of roots they could lay Jon in.
"What happened?" Beric asked Alyn as he followed Thoros with the other men.
"The Mountain," Alyn answered, his fist clenched tightly. "He cut clear through the boy's mail, right across his chest."
"S-Sam," Jon called out.
Sam wiped at his eyes, his sword falling to the ground as he rushed to Jon's side. "I'm here," he said looking down with a put on smile.
Jon smiled up at him. "I'm c-cold… but i-it burns…" Tears trickled from his eyes as he looked to where Edric was helping Thoros remove everything from his torso, leaving him bare chested, revealing a cut that stretched from the collar, across his left pectoral, ending near his waist.
"Y-You'll be fine," Sam assured, taking a cloth to help them wipe away the blood. "You're strong."
Thoros quickly said, "This'll sting," before pouring boiled wine one of the men handed him across the wound. "Now we can try closing it."
Jon winced, but barely made a noise as he looked to Edric. "Sorry, we couldn't…"
Edric shook his head, glancing to where Thoros was using a needle to force the wound closed. "We will when you're healed."
"My horse?"
Edric motioned behind them, "Right there."
"Sam?"
"Yes Jon?"
Jon's smile faded as he looked to the men gathered around him. "Give me… my egg."
While the others looked on confused, fearing his mind was slipping, Sam's eyes widened. "Jon, are you-"
"Now," Jon ordered weakly.
Sam frowned, but nodded, setting the stained red cloth aside to rush past the others. They watched him dig through Jon's saddle bags before removing a large scarlet egg that made the men all gasp.
"Is that-"
"A dragon egg?"
Sam rushed past them to Jon's side, holding it out for him. "Here."
Thoros and Edric stared as Jon took the egg from Sam, groaning slightly as he slid up enough to sit slightly. Jon wrapped his arms around the egg, holding it to his chest, blood trickling across it and smearing the bottom as he whispered, "I'm sorry." He pressed his head against the egg and chuckled weakly before laying back. "It's warm."
At his side he heard a whimper and turned his head, letting his hand down to Ghost's blood stained head. "Ghost," he whispered before he closed his eyes and fell still.
"How does he have a dragon egg?" asked Thoros.
"It's his," Sam said firmly, "given to him by his father."
"Lord Stark?" asked Alyn.
"Rhaegar Targaryen," said Sam, looking to Jon's cold body, "left with his mother, Lyanna Stark."
The men around them gasped in shock as they turned to Jon, who lay in a tangle of weirwood roots.
Thoros stared at the boy for a moment before shaking his head and reaching for a piece of root, tearing it from the walls. Laying it on the ground he struck his flint against a dagger, igniting the end and raising a big enough flame for him to hold as he stood. The others looked as he began to pray to the Lord of Light before taking the flames into his mouth and turning to Jon, pressing his lips to the boy's and breathing flames into him.
"What did you do?" Alyn demanded when Thoros pulled back.
"I gave the boy the good god's own kiss to send him on his way."
"Fire and blood," Ser Raymun Darry gasped, staring at the boy he'd thought ill of when he mentioned the Targaryens. Others seemed to repeat the words, but soon silence filled the hollow hill.
That silence was broken by soft cracks followed by a whimper from Ghost. They followed his crimson eyes to where the sealed shell began to crack and shatter, gasping as a chunk fell away and they saw a small scaled snout push through it. More of the egg broke away as the scarlet dragon pushed at the shell, letting it fall around him to reveal it's body before raising it's head and letting out a screeching cry.
The men stared in awe of the first dragon on Westeros in well over a century. They watched it blink it's golden eyes up at the pale man it sat upon, sniffing at the stitched wound across his torso. Ghost whimpered and the dragon turned its gilded gaze on him, gold meeting red before the dragon turned and crawled up Jon's chest. After a moment it pressed its snout to Jon's chin, then to his cheek and forehead before moving back to his chest and pressing his snout to the dead man's lips.
Once the dragon moved away, Jon gasped and sat up, wincing as he felt tiny claws dig into his chest. His eyes widened seeing a scarlet dragon clinging to him, staring at him with eyes of molten gold.
Looking to the others and seeing their shock he knew they would have few answers for him at the moment, so instead looked to the dragon which crawled up to his shoulder, it's tail sliding across his neck while it flapped it's wings and pressed it's forehead to his. Jon closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the warm spot against his chilled skin.
Had he died? It felt like he did, and there had been nothing. An empty void waiting for him as he drifted from the light.
Gregor Clegane had killed him, same as he had killed Elia Martell and his elder brother Aegon. Tywin's mad dog, a Lannister pawn. All because of Robert's Rebellion which spread lies of his parents and played Robert as some champion of stolen love when he was a lecherous brute obsessed with what he couldn't have. It had been the Stark who were wronged worse, but people seemed to forget that the moment Robert killed Rhaegar.
Jon had lived a life in ice and snow because of them, because they couldn't settle for removing a mad king but had to slaughter children and take power for themselves. Even when he was given an escape he found only those who had slaughtered his family, forced his uncle and aunt to flee. He found an undeserving king, a vile queen and a cruel prince waiting to be crowned. Though they flew Baratheon banners there were no stags there, only lions and snakes.
It was then Jon decided the Lannisters would pay the debt they owed him. They would pay with fire and blood.
Opening his eyes, the dragon pulled it's head back as Jon raised his right hand and called to it. "Bloodwing."
The dragon flapped it's wings and crawled to his open palm, sitting in it and wrapping it's tail around Jon's arm as the others watched it rear back and unleashing a roar, letting the world hear their song as the men in the hollow hill all fell to their knees around Jon.