Lons spoke with Dany in the massive chamber, just the two of them for once in a great while.
“Lons, I want you to know, that after this is over… if you want to leave Mareen, I won’t hold any ill will against you. You can head back to Westeros and I promise you, that when we meet again, it will be on good terms.”
Lons smiled. He’d come a long way from the necessary betrayal that punctuated his early relationship with Dany. “Truth be told, I don’t what I want to do. So much has changed since I first came to Qarth. I don’t know.”
“How’s Tyene doing?” Dany asked, genuinely concerned.
Lons lowered his head. He didn’t want to talk about this, though he respected her concern for their friend. “I’ve done all I can. She’s been unconscious for the past few days… it’s…it’s out of my hands now.” he said quietly. Those words stung like a million of the finest arrows.
The one patient he’d ever failed…
No, he hadn’t failed.
He managed to keep himself outwardly composed, though Dany had that pecuilar way of understanding him, knowing what was truly ticking inside his head.
“Now, I’d like you to go spend the rest of the evening doing whatever you need to do. Take some to rest or something. I’ll see you tomorrow for the feast, okay?”
Lons couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, we’ll speak then. Have a good night, your grace.” he said, turning to hobble out of the chambers.
He made his way down to the quarantined area where two Unsullied guarded the floor. Air and Fang stood guard in perfect disciplined formation. He nodded to the two of them as he went in to check on Tyene.
He opened the door to see a dimly lit room. Seeing Tyene laying there, seemingly wasting away nearly broke his heart. But there was always hope. He sighed and crossed the threshold.
Something was wrong.
He approached her, “Tyene. I’ve brought some milk for you.” he said, knowing full well she was unconscious.
Something was very, very wrong. He placed a hand on her chest.
She wasn’t breathing. There was no pulse.
He stormed out of the room. ‘I can’t be here.’ he thought, heading up to his bedroom for some type of reprieve. The woman he’d loved had just died and he’d been utterly powerless to do anything for her.
He sat down, head in his hands as he tried to recollect his thoughts, knowing his Queen would need him tomorrow. Suddenly, his eyes fell on the Kiss of R’hllor. It was open to a very familiar page.
His eyes quickly scanned it. Upon realizing what it was, he rushed down to her chambers, commanding several Unsullied to grab items for the ritual. His leg was seething in pain by the time he reached the chamber. The Unsullied had already grabbed the brazers and brought them to the chamber. He grabbed a large dull iron bowl and a butcher’s knife. He held his arm above it and for a quick moment thought about what he had to do.
“Faith and more faith.” the old priests notes read.
He closed his eyes and sunk the blade into his flesh. He wanted to cry out from the pain, but held it back. The blood came oozing out and quickly filled up the bowl. He slapped a piece of rag around the wound and quickly tied it down. This work needed to be quick and his own pain didn’t bother him at this point.
Nothing else mattered to the maester. Not the wedding, not the siege. Not even his own pain. His arm screamed at him for the transgression but he paid it no mind as he began to smear the blood on Tyene’s lifeless body. He fought back tears as he felt the flesh beginning to cool, that familiar, comforting warmth disappearing.
The Unsullied spoke up, and for the first time, he heard fear in their voice. “We… have to go, Master Lons.” They locked the door behind them.
Lons tore off Tyene’s clothes, knowing the symbols needed to be drawn in the same blood. He began to chant as he laid out the symbols.
“Lord of light, master of fire and shadows…” he muttered “Raise this soul from the depths and fill her with your fire.” he continued, repeating the same phrase as if it were his life’s blood.
The shadows in the room seemed to shift and move towards the bed. Lons swore he saw claws climbing from the shadows. No eyes, only clawed, grasping hands. He suppressed a shudder and forged on, focusing his mind to the keen edge of a valyrian blade. His mantra became everything.
He looked at Tyene’s emaciated body, knowing he needed to bring her back from the brink. Her frail body was quickly covered with the designs written in his own blood, archaic drawings of fire appearing everywhere. The light dimmed till there was barely a flicker as Lons began to hear voices.
“If you want to have your chain, I won’t stop you, son.”
Focus. Just focus.
Natan’s cane echoed through his mind. “I truly mean this. You are the best maester I have seen in all my years. House Lancaster is lucky to have a man of your caliber… and loyalty serving amongst us. You are a good man Maester Lons. I would call you a Lancaster any day.” The voice was warm. Lons could almost feel the old man’s firm, battle hardened hand against his shoulder.
Breathe. “Lord of light, master of fire and shadows…” Breathe.
“Give up, cousin, it’s useless.”
Lons poured everything he had into this, focusing his mind, his heart, every fiber in his body.
“It’s never worth giving up, my crippled cousin.” a familiar, witty voice added.
Lons felt an intense burning in his gut. It began to travel upwards. He wanted to wretch, vomit it out and away from him. Twice he held it back before realizing what he had to do.
The claws reached closer, nearly surrounding him. They were nearly grasped around him and many more reached for Tyene.
THe fire flickered and for a moment there almost no light, save a single ember.
Lons heart was filled with nothing but faith, knowing only R’hllor could save him from this. Only R’hllor could save Tyene now.
He closed his eyes and simply prayed once again. His heart and mind focused on the pure and cleansing fire that was R’hllor’s namesake.
Suddenly, the light exploded in the brazer, filling the room with light. Lons leaned forward, kissing Tyene right on the lips, simultaneously saying goodbye, confessing his love and resigning himself to the shadows if need be. Suddenly, the burning sensation manifested in a scourge of fire that shot straight into Tyene’s mouth. Lons knew he should have been so horridly burned, but both he and Tyene remained fine as the bed melted away and burned beneath them.
The fire shot into the darkest recesses of the room. Lons swore he saw the creatures from the darkness burning up and flailing in the midst of the flames. Who could tell after what he’d witnessed. Suddenly, everything was quiet for just one moment as several fires smoldered in the corner.
Tyene took a huge breath in, her body heaving off of the bed as if her very essence had slipped back into her body. Tyene opened her eyes for the first time, again.
“Tyene…” Lons muttered as he passed out, slipping into his own dark abyss as he struck the floor.