The Perfect Ending []

It had been done. The Night King had been slain.

Everyone had seen Drogon fighting the Ice Dragon. Everyone had seen both dragons crash into the mountainside. Some soldiers had even claimed to have seen Jon Snow leap from Rhaegal. But, without a doubt, everyone heard Viserion’s shriek as Longclaw cut him open from throat to tail. Everyone saw as a pillar of blue fire rose into the sky.

What most failed to realize was that that had not been the end of the battle. The Night King had emerged from the husk of his undead thrall. And while Jon Snow had the love of the North, of the Mother of Dragons bolstering his strength, the Night King had centuries of warfare and experience and strength borne of the darkest magics. The King of the North put up a valiant fight, but his frozen foe buried his spear in Jon’s chest without ever changing the expression on his face.

In the end, in mankind’s darkest hour, it was Arya who saved the day. The youngest surviving Stark thrust her Valyrian steel dagger in the Night King’s back, piercing his frozen husk of a heart.

It was the first time in years that Arya had seen Jon.

She swore that it would not be the last.

That was how she had found herself once again face to face with the Red Priestess.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” Melisandre asked, although she knew the answer.

“Many have been sent to the God of **** today. Friends. Allies. Those who had long cheated ****. Surely, **** could spare a single soul,” Arya answered.

Melisandre’s lips curled upwards, though her eyes held no mirth, as she glanced at each soul in the room.

“You must be sure this is your heart’s greatest desire,” she said. “All of you.”

Sansa nodded, her eyes full of tears. She still had so much that she had wanted to tell Jon—things had just begun healing between them. He had given up and sacrificed so much; if she could help restore the rightful King of the North she would.

“I am,” Daenerys murmured. She had also been crying, though many of her tears had dried on the battlefield. Jon had done for her what she had thought was impossible—he had rekindled the sun in her life. There was more than just an attract between them. More than just love. Their very souls were entwined together.

Melisandre considered each woman for a moment before she nodded. She turned her attention back to Jon, who lay on a slab on stone in front of all of them. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder before dragging it down his chest towards his newest wound—a gaping hole made all the more gruesome by magic and ice.

“I have been asked by Jon Snow not to bring him back should he perish once again,” she stated evenly. “But there are alternate methods…” She pulled off Jon’s coverings, revealing his naked body.

Sansa gasped at the sight of his scars, his muscles, and of his manhood. Dany and Arya tensed, unsure of what was going to happen.

“His body must be warmed,” Melisandre explained, looking at the women as she pulled off her robes, leaving her as naked as Jon. “Body to body, soul to soul. The fire of his life must be reignited and our bodies are the kindling.”

Without further explanation, the Red Woman leaned down and ran her tongue along his limp length.

The braziers arranged in the corners of the room blazed to life as Melisandre began her work.

As the red-haired woman took his cock into her mouth, she began humming an ancient prayer to R’hllor. It wasn’t clear whether it was due to her spell or her mouth, but Jon Snow body began to react. Sansa, Arya, and Daenerys stared on with rapt attention as his cock grew and grew, like an angry python. Tormund had once claimed that Jon Snow didn’t possess the cock of a god. Jon had merely been too humble to reveal that he was a grower, not a shower.

Melisandre’s humming became punctuated with slurps and gags as she took the King of the North’s manhood deeper and deeper into her mouth until he was plunging into her throat. With every inch that he grew, the flames of the braziers grew to match it and the women watching began to feel warm even within the icy room. Soon, Melisandre was struggling with the gigantic shaft of meat, having to stroke his length as she bobbed vigorously on his tip. The whole time, she continued to hum; when she pulled off of his bell end, the surrounding women could just hear **** chanting in High Valyrian.

The chanting and humming grew more and more intense until finally, Jon’s cock pulsed, visibly, his balls contracting. Melisandre moaned as she felt his seed filling her mouth until her cheeks bulged. She pulled off him when she could take no more, letting the last few spurts ooze from his tip.

The Stark sisters and the Mother of Dragons found themselves staring at Jon’s throbbing cock, shining with spit and cum in the light of the braziers.