Arya slowly backed away from the body, the pool of blood expanding, spreading towards her feet. Numbly she returned her face to her own, just as Jaqen had taught her. She had done what she must, just as the Many-Faced God had instructed her.

Green eyes closed forever.

Those eyes had held only madness. No regret. Remorse yes, but no regret.

Daenerys Targaryen had been too dangerous to be left alive. She would have brought only fire and destruction to the Seven Kingdoms. Jon had loved her, would have followed her to the ends of the earth and yet she had killed him. She would have let nothing stand in her way, and so she had to die. For the good of the Seven Kingdoms.

Somehow that did nothing to ease the ache in Arya's heart. Jon was still gone, and the Throne was still in chaos. Nothing had changed except that a new tyrant would take over. Arya sank to the floor.

The dragon in the center of the room lifted its head and screamed towards the night sky above. Whimpering, it lowered its snout and nuzzled Daenerys' lifeless body before letting out another bone-chilling screech. It began snorting and stomping, the room quivering.

Arya scrambled to a corner, trying to hide from its wrath. But instead of advancing toward her, the beast lowered its head and released a stream of molten flame, engulfing Jon's tomb in an inferno. "No!" Arya screamed, knowing that Jon's body would be destroyed, but the monster continued.

She tried to run forward, to stop the beast, but the withering inferno drove her back, threatening to scorch her skin. The glass tomb began glowing in the heat of the dragon's flame. The lid split open, the two halves sliding to the floor where they sat glowing like hot embers. And still the dragon continued its molten blaze. A shape rose from the vault, glowing even more brightly than the tomb it lay in. The man, Arya could now see it was, stood and stepped onto the floor, a flaming sword in its hand. It walked through the flames towards where she sat trapped against the wall, nowhere to go to escape its advancement.

Finally, the dragon ceased its blinding inferno and in the darkness that followed Arya could see nothing but the blazing sword, still advancing.

When the shape stood directly over her, it stopped and raised the blade. Arya ducked trying to hide, until she saw the face revealed by the dancing flames.

"Jon," she breathed.