Seven Dreams One Kingdom

41-Sansa

In the muted chamber, Sansa's skilled hands moved elegantly, weaving the story of a union into the fabric of a marriage cloak. The soft glow of the fire danced upon the forest green velvet, as the red thread traced the intricate details of the huntsman image—the emblem of House Tarly. Beside her, an oil lamp cast a warm light, revealing the careful stitches, and the dedication poured into the creation.

On the bed next to her, Jon lay upon furs, his breathing steady, his milky-white eyes a sign that he had embarked on another journey through the realm of skin-changing. The room held a serene stillness, broken only by the occasional crackle of burning logs in the hearth.

Sansa's focus remained on her work, with an occasional glance toward Jon. The marriage cloak symbolised not only an alliance between houses but a promise of the Reach's loyalty toward House Stark. As she laboured on, Sansa contemplated the power dynamics that defined their world, the challenges of war and destruction, which lay ahead.

Sansa sat waiting, her fingers pausing over the delicate stitches on the marriage cloak, her mind wandering to the distant scene unfolding. She could almost smell the burning grain, the destructive dance of dragonfire consuming the sustenance meant for countless mouths. Jon's prolonged absence within Drogon's body intensified her unease.

Two hours had passed since Jon delved into the dragon's consciousness, witnessing the brutal destruction that unfolded in real time. The toll it took on him, and the weight of the choices being made, lingered in the room. Sansa cast a worried glance toward Jon, lying still upon the furs, his milky-white eyes revealing his immersion.

As the time limits of Jon's abilities neared, Sansa's concern deepened. Another hour without his return, and she would intervene, attempting to guide him back from the depths of Drogon's mind.

Sansa's sense of urgency escalated as Jon's silent journey within Drogon's consciousness took an alarming turn. Uncharacteristic guttural sounds emanated from Jon's lips. Desperation propelled Sansa to shake him, calling his name with increasing concern, but Jon remained trapped in the dissonant struggle within the dragon's mind.

Fearing the worst, Sansa rushed to the adjoining room where Jaime Lannister stood, engrossed in studying a map at his desk. Sansa's voice cut through the air. "Lord Jaime."

Jaime looked up, his gaze meeting Sansa's distressed expression. "What is it?" he asked, his attention now on her.

"It's Jon, he's not waking up. Something isn't right. He's thrashing around, making strange noises. It's not like him when he's skin-changing. We need to do something."

Sansa rushed back into her room, and Ser Jaime followed, witnessing Jon's distressing state on the bed. Jon's limbs moved violently, and the distressed sounds escaping his lips intensified, creating an atmosphere of anxiety and urgency.

Concern etched across his face, Jaime inquired, "Where is he?"

"He's inside Drogon. They're over the Reach with Daenerys and Tyrion. I think she is burning the grain... and Lord Tarly," Sansa said, her voice carrying a sombre tone as she shared the grim details of the unfolding events.

"There's more to it than that. on says he feels pain if the dragons are hurt. Do you think Drogon might have been hit by the scorpion?" Jaime told her.

Jaime's revelation about Jon's connection to the dragons and the possibility of Drogon being injured by the scorpion weighed heavily on Sansa. The newfound knowledge added an extra layer of concern to the already distressing situation.

"Do you think he's in pain?" The worry in Sansa's voice was clear. The idea of Jon experiencing the physical pain of the dragons he shared a bond with intensified her concern for him.