𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐕: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅

꧁CHAPTER XXIV:꧂
꧁THE KING IS DEAD꧂
꧁300 AFTER CONQUEST꧂

꧁JON꧂

Below decks, the storm seemed further away, the sound of thunder and the flash of lightning faint through the small window cutting through the cabin and through the boards of the ship. Candles were how they saw, and if one were to see the lot of them, they would more than likely see men who had seen ghosts. They did, in a way. I can only imagine the ghosts living within his head, Jon thought to himself quietly, eyes staring into the single flame atop the wax candle in front of him. Reaching out, he began to trace around the flickering flame, uncaring of the heat and how it hurt the longer he lingered. He needed to feel warm.

Edd sat beside him, quietly chewing away in a chunk of bread he had been dipping in his stew. He stowed himself away it seemed in his meal. Jon knew that they all had their ways of coping with what they saw, what had happened only days ago, some..better than others. Glancing up, Jon looked to Tormund across the table who rested his head on his hands, eyes closed. He wasn't asleep, but the Giantsbane was tired. He had said very little in a way of trying to address Hardhome.

"He hasn't been out in days.."

Jon spoke quietly, finding his voice, though with how it came out, it was clear parts of it was still gone from the shouting and screaming. Edd hummed quietly to himself, eyes unblinking as he stared into his bowl in front of him, continuing to chew.

"If he didn't take the food at the door, I would think he had not woken up."

He remembered how Benget had dropped when he loosed the arrow toward..him. How he..caught the arrow of Dragonglass with such ease and simplicity it made the effort they made, the fight they put up..it made it all feel worthless and in vein. Despite the feeling, Jon knew that it was not. They saved thousands that otherwise would be dead right now...or worse.

"He'll come around when he's ready."

Tormund mumbled as Jon glanced back at him, raising a brow.

"And you?"

Tormund moved his head up from his hands to look at Jon. He could see how his blue eyes were bloodshot and tired, empty and not caring of anything in the world.

"What about me?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Tormund. You just don't want to acknowledge it."

"Acknowledge it, hm?"

The ginger scoffed, shaking his head.

"She was the last blood I had left, Jon Stark. The last... And now she's gone."

He sighed heavily, shaking his head before placing it back in his hands. Neither Jon or Edd who he peaked up from his bowl only for a moment would acknowledge that they noticed how Tormund's shoulder shook up and down, a suppressed sniffle coming out.

They were all a bloody mess.

Across the lower cabin was the door to the captain's quarters, which even before the journey to Eastwatch they had settled on it would be Ben and Val's quarters. But..now it was just..