### 1. The Night That Knows
Jon awoke trembling.
Not from heat — but from immense, soul-deep *stillness*.
The First Flame inside him… was no longer waiting. It was *listening.*
He stood barefoot on the polished onyx floor of his new residence aboard the Vigilance-class Helicarrier — the Dawnspire Deck, carved by Wanda into interdimensional shielding. The walls were starless tonight. The windows reflected not starlight, but memory. Memory made from fire.
In them, he saw:
→ The Wall.
→ The blade in Daenerys's heart.
→ Arya cradling her blade over a shattered god.
→ And now… something that wasn't memory, but anticipation.
Flame.
Something older than Valyria.
Calling his name.
> "Aegon of Two Worlds. Time to listen."
### 2. The Bonded Gather
Jon called them to him — not with words, but flame.
They came like they always had.
- **Wanda**, heart searing through scarlet lace, eyes already glowing.
- **Daenerys**, wrapped in Phoenix silk, barefoot, shoulders bare, lips parted.
- **Sif**, armor undone at her sides, hair damp from river training.
- **Mystique**, in her truest form this time — smooth blue, unmasked, hungry.
- **Arya**, watching from the shadows, arms folded, quietly pacing like a direwolf outside a circle of fire she wasn't sure she wished to enter.
He stood in the center — and the room lit in **living flame** but did not burn.
> "The Flame wants to speak," he said hoarsely.
> "But I don't think it wants words. It wants to be *felt.*"
Wanda nodded, understanding. This meant merging — not of bodies this time, but of something deeper.
Daenerys reached behind her and let the robe fall. "Then it must burn within us until truth rises."
And with that, the ritual began.
### 3. Through Fire, We Remember
They made a circle.
Each woman touched Jon — palm to rune, lips to scar, spirit to flame — and then released magic, memory, grief, and hunger.
Wanda whispered: *Chaos chooses the wild.*
Daenerys: *Flame rules but does not beg.*
Sif: *Victory is the birth cry of desire.*
Mystique: *We wear our longing like second skin.*
Arya: *The heart cuts deeper than any blade.*
A golden burst sank into Jon's soul.
He gasped —
And he was *no longer here.*
**Vision: The Time Before Time**
He stood in a desert of stars where suns were born from dragonbone. He saw creatures not unlike gods forging **Flames** — not to destroy, but to *lock away Babylonian truths.*
He heard it spoken in the voice of his ancestors — ancient Targaryens who never reached Westeros but sailed star-rafts instead.
> "Flame is memory. Power is grief repurposed. The Flame chooses through pain."
>
> "And when it finds a heart broken enough to carry it... it **awakens**."
He saw the *First Flame*, given form: not a god, but a living truth. A woman bound in light and fire, weeping molten tears.
She looked at him… and smiled.
> "You are the Flame's last key. You don't serve fire. You are the language it speaks."
### 4. A Love That Transcends Time
He collapsed back into Wanda's arms, breathing hard, his body steaming slightly.
Daenerys knelt beside him, skin flushed, face unreadable.
"You heard her?" she whispered. "The one before gods?"
Jon nodded.
"She's not a weapon," he said. "She's the ghost of every love we've lost. She's *the memory of what power cost.*"
Arya moved to the edge of the circle and finally spoke:
"Then why does it still *want* your heart?"
Jon turned to her.
"Because I gave it willingly. When I killed Daenerys. When I left the Wall. When I chose to bear the guilt and the heroism and *never* be rewarded for it."
He stood now. New. Whole. Glowing faintly gold.
"And maybe it's time for me to stop walking toward punishment, and start *choosing joy.*"
And this time, it was he who kissed Daenerys — not like before.
But as one fire to another.
Then Sif stepped forward and pressed her forehead to his.
Wanda wrapped her magic like a shiver around his chest.
Mystique curled her hand around his jaw, smiling as if watching a god recognize his name the first time.
Arya didn't join this time — but she watched. And her eyes didn't glare.
They *welcomed it.*
### 5. The Voice Behind The Fire
That night — when the queens slept tangled in his arms, and Arya stood watch from the archway with her ghostblade unsheathed — Jon stepped once more into the sanctum.
He called to the Flame.
> "Why now?"
And for the first time — it answered:
>
> **"Because the end of gods is coming. And only the mortals who remember love… will survive it."**
Then, carved across the walls appeared ten ancient symbols, glowing from behind in lunar flame.
Only one did Jon recognize.
The first three letters of his true name in Valyrian.
> "You are the Keeper of Flame and Flesh," the voice echoed.
> "And you were never meant to rule a kingdom. You were meant to *build the next world.*"
Jon realized then—
This war was never about which universe lived.
It was about **which truths would define all others.**
And the First Flame?
Wasn't just choosing him.
It was *becoming* him.
And each woman he welcomed to join him in fire… became more than queens.
> They became parts of the new god that wept like a man.