#jon snow x targaryen!femreader

[damn-stark]

Chapter 1 Heir to the iron throne

Chapter 1 of Sandstorm

A/N- First chapter I hope you guys like it!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, death and blood, talks of sexual assault, fluff.

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 7x02 & only the beginning of 7x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*21 YEARS AGO*

“Mother, when is father going to return?”

He has been gone for months now, you can’t seem to recall what he told you last, but you know you miss him.

“Soon,” your mother assures you and tucks you in bed. “I swear.”

It was always the same answer. Vague, “he’s fighting a war.”.

“Now, Little Sunspot,” your mother continues softly and sits at the other end of your bed. “It’s your turn to pick a story for tonight, so what will it be?”

Without a moment of hesitation you beam at her and give her your answer. “Tell me the story of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters.”

“Oh no!” Rhaenys whines from her side of the room. “Not that one again, Visenya, pick a different one!”

You pull your blanket over your mouth and snuggle under your blankets. “That’s mine and fathers favorite,” you mumble and then look at your mother to bat your lashes. “Please mother, tell it!”

Your mother offers you a sweet smile and nods in agreement. “I will, but I must warn you, I am not as good as Rhaegar is at telling it, but I will try my best.”

——

Home.

What a fickle thing. Home is as some say where your own family is. But for the 21 years you lived at Sunspear with your family; with your late uncle Oberyn and his daughters you thought of as sisters, and with your late uncle Doran and his son, both of them brothers to your mother, both beloved uncles, it seems you could never find such belonging amongst them.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel peace and happiness at Sunspear. Because you did. Yet it’s that sense of belonging that you’ve always craved and missed.

It’s a belonging you hope you’ll find here in Dragonstone, your family’s ancestral home, amongst the only living relative you still have from the House of the Dragon, from your fathers side of the family. Amongst your aunt Daenerys Targaryen.

Your great reunion has been a long time coming, years perhaps, but time only seemed fitting now. Especially since it’s not until recently that she herself has arrived back home, at Dragonstone.

A place you were born at and left a long time ago, a place you did not recall in any of your memories.

Coming upon it in the clouds seems so surreal, like a dream maybe, a faded one. It was a lot grayer than you imagined, colder; but that’s maybe due to the fact that you’re several hundred feet in the sky—The ocean's waters are darker as well; a lot more than the ones at Sunspear. It was strange, truly.

Dragonstone seems a lot smaller too—or seemed a lot smaller, but as you began to descend from the sky the castle became larger. Not only that but now that the clouds didn’t hide you anymore something else came to view, three dragons. They all looked dark and small, but the more you began to descend the larger they got, the more you can see their colored scales.

There was a green one like the green fields of grass, but it seems it’s also mixed with bronze. There was a cream and gold one, smaller than the other two. And the third one was larger, a beautiful black dragon with red mixed within it as well. And without fault all three of them screech, sing their song as they catch sight of Eraxis, your beautiful white She-dragon descend to the sand in front of the castle gates.

All three of them circle Eraxis as she lands. And Eraxis just watches them before she sings, a loud echoing and sharp song.

Once you climb down her and hit the sand, you can’t help but smile at her and caress her neck. “It is alright girl. It’s okay, they're family.”

Eraxis turns her head and tilts it before she looks back up to the sky as the dragons keep circling her.

You look up and smile at the three dragons before you drop your eyes to the sand beneath your shoes, and slowly crouch down to scoop up some of the cold sand in your hand and watch each grain drop out between the gaps between your fingers. You proceed to dust off the sand and rise up again until you hear a soft thump on the sand behind you.

“Welcome home,” you break your silence and begin to grin a soft smile. “Rhaenar.” You look back and meet the pair of dark brown eyes of your son.

Said boy lets out a small breath and looks up the castle gates to slowly examine it and watch the guards that stood in front of them. “It’s cold,” he mutters and buttons the top button of his shirt as if that would make any difference

You sigh softly and nod. “Quite is. Come on, let's get inside then.”

Rhaenar drags his hand along Eraxis as he follows you to the gate, but hesitates to depart from her as you reach the guards.

“I’ve come to see the Queen,” you tell them.

The guards eyes shift over your shoulder and land on the white dragon who watches them intently.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “She won’t do any harm.”

The guard's eyes shift back to you before he shifts to push the doors open, finally letting you see the long and grand stairway that leads up to the castle.

“Come Rhaenar,” you tell the boy who you know has probably only moved an inch from the dragon.

“And if she does not like us?” He asks in a timid voice that let his Dornish accent come out even after he tries to hide it.

You sigh and turn to reach him. “You do not have to worry about that my Sunspot,” you assure him. “Okay? She is family, your grandfather's sister, it will take some time to get used to one another but I am sure she will love you.”

Rhaenar lowers his gaze and nods, letting you smile as you cup his cheek. “And do not hide your accent, what would your uncle say?”

“Targaryens do not talk like me, mother,” he mutters and fists his hands.

You scoff. “Who said that?”

Rhaenar goes quiet, so you grab his face with both hands and press him. “Rhaenar, tell me.”

“Myself, books I have read about our family,” he whispers.

You sigh. “Oh my sweet boy, we talk how we damn want to, no one can tell us otherwise. Not books of old dead ancestors. Be proud you are part Dornish. That only makes you more fierce than any other Targaryen.” You smirk and brush the strands of hair out of his face. “Come. Let’s go.”

You turn back to face the gate and offer him your hand, but he just scoffs and shakes his head.

Now without any more delay and falters, both Rhaenar and you walk up the long stairway, catching Eraxis now flying overhead, keeping her distance from the other dragons flying in the sky. You can see the grand castle getting closer and closer.

Yet, before you can reach the castle gates, an army of unsullied, and tall, dark and muscular men in fur garments walk out and meet you halfway.

“Halt there,” a slender and tall man orders, causing you to do as he said.

“I have come to see the Queen,” you inform him. “I am…family.”

“Doubtful,” you hear a familiar voice interject between the crowd of men. “Who are you…” the moment the men part to the side to let him meet you halfway, the tiny man trails off and looks at you in shock and yet a puzzled look.

You scoff in amusement and smile mischievously as you instantly come to recognize the short man. “I am sorry, Lord Tyrion, it seems the last time we met, my hair was a different color.”

The small man hums and loses the confusion and now looks more serious. “Y/N Sand. Prince Oberyn’s daughter. I thought Dorne was not meant to get here yet.”

You shake your head. “No, but they are on the way, I,” you glance up at Eraxis and smile, “flew here.” You glance down at him. “And my name is not Sand. I am Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell,” you reveal yourself. “If you want to get technical, my true name my father gave me is Visenya, but well…I’ve grown accustomed to my new name.” You sigh. “I am the niece of your Queen. I have come to meet her, to join her.”

Lord Tyrion studies you for a brief moment with doubt lingering in his stare, making you smirk.

“Do you wish for me to prove myself to you, my Lord? Wash my hair? Bleed my veins, or tell my dragon a command?” You retort.

Lord Tyrion sighs and shakes his head. “No. Please none of that. I was just trying to progress the fact that a supposed dead princess is standing right in front of me.” He counters.

You swallow thickly. “I was never presumed dead, was I?” You ask rhetorically. “Nevertheless, I have no reason to lie, nor am I, Eraxis can prove that.”

Tyrion looks up at the white dragon and watches her as she keeps circling the area.

“Well,” Lord Tyrion says and meets your gaze. “Greetings Princess. It is very nice to finally meet you.” He offers you a faint smile. “Now please if you don’t mind please hand your weapons over.”

Usually parting from your weapon is a condition you don’t like to follow, but in this case it’s only fair, besides these large handsome men didn’t seem like they were going to let you pass if you didn’t follow orders.

“Rhaenar,” you say and hold a tall man’s dark gaze as he watches you unsheath your weapons. “Hand over your weapons.”

Without arguing, your son does as he’s told and hands his sword and daggers to the men, leaving you to bend down to unsheath the daggers you have hidden under your dress.

“Dothraki, I assume,” you comment as you keep holding the man’s gaze with a sly smirk.

“Yes,” Lord Tyrion confirms. “The Queens warriors.”

You stand up to your given height and catch the tall, dark man smirking at you as he takes your weapons. You then smirk back at him.

“Follow me,” Lord Tyrion breaks the tension and pulls your gaze back to him. “The Queen is already waiting.”

When you walk inside, the soldiers that had come out to greet you continue to follow you inside. They surround Rhaenar and you, and don't let you take in your surroundings very well.

“I do pardon for such a cold greeting,” Lord Tyrion interjects. “We just don’t know the true intentions of you or your…dragon.”

You scoff. “Do not worry, Lord Tyrion, I understand.”

“Tyrion,” he corrects you. “I am not the Lord of anything now.”

“My apologies.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you and brings his army of men and you to a halt in front of big black doors that lead to only one obvious room, the Throne Room.

Now it’s closer than ever. The moment you have dreamed of since you found out about her being alive. Beside your son Rhaenar, she was the last piece of family you have remaining from your Targaryen bloodline.

Her….

Let’s just say that happiness isn’t the most powerful feeling you feel now. Rhaenar senses that it seems, your nerves, and reaches for your hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

You look down at him and offer him a soft smile before you secure your hold around his hand.

Before the doors can be opened, Tyrion asks for your name and titles. It’s only after you give it to him that the guards begin to push the doors open, letting the gray dimly lit throne come to view.

As you proceed to walk inside, you see her. She’s sitting so poise on that stone throne at the end of the room. You see the color of her silver-white hair that matches yours. You see her fancy black garments and her red cloak elegantly hanging off her chair. You see her pale face, her blue eyes. You see her, your aunt, the Queen. She’s there, she’s real.

“Princess Y/N Targaryen, Princess of Dorne, and Daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen,” Tyrion announces as you keep slowly walking inside.

Now you notice a bald man, a man you know as Lord Varys. You catch his gaze narrow, and see him take a slow step forward as if fascinated by your presence. You then don’t fail to notice the Queen's face twist to something you can read as disbelief and…anger.

“Prince Rhaenar Targaryen, son of the princess.”

You come to a stop before you can reach the unsullied guards standing in front of the steps that lead to the throne, and let go of Rhaenar’s hand to curtsey; while he bows to the Queen.

“My Queen,” you say and return your gaze back on her as you stand up straight. “It is an honor finally getting to meet you.”

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” A woman with brown skin, and dark curly hair announces the mouthful of titles that must be a pain in the ass to see each time.

Nevertheless, Queen Daenerys holds your gaze and retorts. “I am sorry I am not rejoiced by your presence. Until now I had no idea you were alive.” She slightly raises her eyebrows as she seems to pierce her glare in you.

You scoff in amusement. “That’s good, it means my uncles did a good job in hiding me from the world that wanted me dead,” you rebuttal confidently and pass a discreet glance at Tyrion. “But I do swear to you on my fathers memory that I am who I say I am. I mean…if I wasn’t would I have come flying on a dragon?” You smirk. Yet no one else finds it so amusing.

“You have no reason to believe me,” you continue. “But I do know people who know of me.” You glance over at Lord Varys standing a bit a ways from the Queen, and make her gaze drift to the man.

“Lord Varys, can you attest to her word? Can you prove that who stands before me really is a niece I have thought long dead?” She asks and looks at you.

The Lord slowly steps forward and stops at the top step to study you from closer.

“Yes, I can,” Tyrion speaks up and walks to the top step. “I can attest to her word. I have met her before. However, back then she went by another name.”

You scoff and nod. “Yes. Back then I went by Sand. I was just another bastard daughter to my uncle Oberyn Martell, but it was for my own safety. After all, it is his family who wanted me dead.”

Tyrion nods and accepts your accusation. “Yes. It was my family.”

You clench your jaw and let out a deep sigh.

“Her uncle died for me,” Tyrion continues. “He was a good man. That is why I trust her word.”

The Queen slowly stands up from the chair and begins to head your way, yet she stops at Tyrion’s side. “If it is you. If you do have a dragon, where have you been this entire time?” She asks you.

You clasp your hands in front of you and part your lips to speak, but then Lord Varys speaks up before you could. “She was hiding, by her uncle's demand. Sworn to keep her identity a secret until the right time came. As was I.”

The Queen shifts her head to the side to look at her Lord.

“She is who she says she is. She is Princess Visenya Targaryen, daughter of your brother Rhaegar Targaryen. She is blood of your blood, My Queen.”

You shake your head and correct them. “No. It’s Y/N. Not Visenya. Not anymore.”

The Queen begins to glare at the man for a second before she finally returns her gaze to you and begins to step down the steps to meet you halfway.

She then continues to study you, to check out the gold dragon scale corset over your red dress, the golden rings on your fingers, the golden snake around your bicep. She looks at your silver-white hair probably trying to see if your hair color was actually real and not fake, or if you were actually real or not. Her eyes then shift to Rhaenar for a brief second before returning to look at you again.

You don’t do anything, you let her take her time, and take this time to study her too; to realize how beautiful she is, how tiny she is as well now that she’s not sat on the throne.

“Who might you be?” The Queen breaks her silence and looks back at Rhaenar.

Said boy bows and then tries his best to once again hide his Dornish accent. “I am Prince—”

You clear your throat to correct him, making the Queen glance at you in confusion before returning to look at your boy.

“I am Prince Rhaenar Sand, your Grace,” he shares in his normal voice, and this time you glance at him slightly concerned since he refers to himself as Sand.

The Queen scoffs softly and her lips are just faintly showing a smile. “Sand?” She questions.

Rhaenar nods. “I am a bastard,” he tells her, making you sigh.

“And like I have told him before,” you interject. “That does not matter. That does not change who you are descended from.”

Daenerys nods. “Your mother is correct,” she agrees in your defense. “You are still the blood of the dragon aren't you? You are a Targaryen first and foremost.”

Rhaenar shrugs. “I suppose.”

The Queen offers a soft laugh before she looks at you. “Let’s take a walk.”

You nod, and without a fault when you walk out, the curly headed woman, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki warriors follow you out and walk behind you like lurking shadows. It’s something you have never grown unaccustomed to after your years of being somewhat free in Dorne.

“What’s your dragon's name?” The Queen asks once you’re out of the castle and walking up a stairwell that leads to some place you can’t see yet.

“Her name is Eraxis,” you share with a faint smile.

Queen Daenerys eyes snap to you, and you catch her surprise at your comment.

“Your dragon is a female?” She questions.

You nod. “Yes. She is. Or at least that’s what I like to say, I don’t think we can really place a gender on a dragon.” You smile.

The Queen nods. “Yes, I suppose we can’t.”

A screech sounds from the sky before Eraxis flies down past you. Both the Queen and you look up to watch her, to admire how her white scales glimmer like diamonds against the sun's rays; to watch as she let her large wings soared, and how her horned tail swung to the side as she flew up.

“She’s…quite big,” the Queen points out with an admiring smile. “How old is she?”

Once Eraxis passes, the Queen's black dragon flies past you to follow Eraxis up in the sky.

“She is fifteen,” You answer softly, and catch her swallow thickly before she brings you to a stop so you can watch the both of your dragons as they begin to twirl up to the sky together, like if they’re dancing. Like if they were familiar with one another already.

“It seems Drogon is quite taken by Eraxis already,” the Queen says. “That should be good.”

You rest your hands on the stone before you and nod. “It is. It means Eraxis won’t be alone anymore.” You look down to look at the Queen. “What are the names of your other dragons?”

The Queen drops her gaze and answers, “the green one is Rhaegal, I named him after your father.”

Your smile falters, and your eyes go soft.

“And the gold and cream one is Viserion, named after my brother, Viserys.”

Ah. Him. The youngest brother. The uncle you only have one memory of, and it’s not a pleasant one.

“If I may ask,” the Queen continues. “How was Eraxis born to you?”

The story is something you hardly know how to explain to make it sound sane. Yet it is one people ask for a lot.

“To be honest,” you laugh softly. “It’s going to sound funny, but…” you avert your gaze and begin messing with your rings. “…a dream…”

You hear the Queen's feet shift against the stone ground at the sound of your comment.

“…it was a dream I scarcely remember anymore. But it was of my dragon being born from fire and blood.” You let out a deep breath and slowly look up to once again meet her gaze. Now you notice her look slightly disbelieved.

“It was fate then,” the Queen interjects softly.

You shrug and smile faintly at your rings. “Perhaps.”

You could tell her what you did to have the egg hatch, every detail. You can tell her that even if you don’t recall every detail of the dream, you still have a fragment of it painted so it could keep your mind from clouding at that time.

Yet you don’t.

At least it doesn’t seem so fit yet. Instead you let the conversation drift, you let her continue to lead you up the steps. And it’s now that you can see you’re being walked to some green cliffs where you spot her two other dragons resting.

“I have heard a lot of great things about you, not only because I have made it my job to keep myself informed, but word travels. I am more than in awe, I am fascinated,” you share sweetly, and make her smile a lot more timidly.

Yet when you reach the cliff her smile begins to falter, a serious and almost threatening look paints on her face as she comes to a stop and faces the ocean.

“If you have been alive this whole time why have you not tried to take what’s yours,” she says seriously. “You have the right claim, you, my brother's last living heir.”

You look away from her and face the ocean as well to watch the horizon as you think of what to say. Something that would sound like you’re not lying. “There’s many reasons, one, I am a woman. My claim is not as strong.”

“But you have a son,” she cuts in.

You nod and peer back at Rhaenar, catching him watching the dragons with awe. “A bastard. In Dorne they might not be shamed, but here they are. They would never accept my son, even if he is my fathers grandson.” You sigh and face her. “There is also time,” you reveal carefully. “My uncle had a plan, we couldn’t just risk ourselves by flying down to Kings Landing and burning everything. We needed a lot of time, ally’s, and resources. I actually was meant to marry your brother, but,” you scoff with a playful smile on your face, and catch her stare. “Before the proposal was officially announced, well, we heard the news he passed.”

The Queen scoffs and smirks. “Maybe it was a good thing,” she interjects, making you slightly furrow your brows in confusion. “I loved my brother, but I don’t think he would’ve made a good husband. Especially not to someone who already had a dragon before him.”

You laugh softly. “Is that so?” You query. “Well I for one was quite excited. More so for the promise of seeing the family I thought I had lost.”

The Queen lowers her gaze before she goes serious again, letting you continue.

“Anyway, before much else could be done my uncle…died, and the dream died with him.” You swallow thickly and let out a deep sigh. “Albeit, I can’t say I ever shared his dream, that's another reason I haven’t tried to claim what’s “mine”. I never had a desire to rule. Not after what happened. That’s why I have not taken the throne, that’s why I am here. Why, I sent Dorne to ally with you.” You meet her gaze and raise your head proudly.

“I don’t want the throne for myself. I want to help you take it,” you share confidently. “I want to take back what is ours with fire and blood, I want Cersei to pay for what her family did to mine. I know,” you sigh. “You have no reason to trust me, but know that I am done hiding and tired of doing nothing. I want my son to be proud of me, I don’t want him to hide anymore either. I just want to help you, at your side, united like family. Just like how Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters did, together.”

Daenerys continues to look at you with a threatening and piercing glare, she lets out a deep breath and looks past her shoulder. And without saying anything both her dragons walk over, causing Rhaenar to step back. When her dragons stand behind her you see the same burning, piercing glare that their mother carries.

“If it’s true, bend the knee,” she orders in a menacing tone. “Swear to me that you nor your son will go against me, that you will fight alongside me and help me win this war to take back what belongs to our family. Swear to me, Y/N Targaryen, and you and your son will have a place in my court. You will keep your title as Princess, your son as Prince. If not….” She pauses and her dragons begin growl. Yet you don’t react out of fear, you hold her gaze and stay calm.

“…I would hate to consider my last living relatives as traitors.” She finishes.

You look back at Rhaenar, and he meets your gaze, and together without hesitation you get down on one knee and look up to meet her gaze. “I swear to you,” you assure her. “I swear I will have no ill intentions. I will not fight against you. I will fight at your side.”

Daenerys begins to smirk and continues to walk over to you to offer you her hand. You’re confused at first, but when you take it she helps you up to your feet and keeps you in front of her for a moment, before she pulls you in for an embrace.

You’re caught off guard for a brief second, but once you feel her grip tighten you return the embrace and clutch onto her with relief, and joy.

Finally after years, here she is. You’re finally together.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Nights were already hard to sleep. Returning to Dragonstone sounded like it could be a solution to your restless nights, to the nightmares that plague your mind, but the bitter night air made it harder. There was some reassurance in the morning when you woke up and saw that meeting Daenerys wasn’t some fever dream. She was real.

As slow as things are between her and you currently considering you only just met, she was a comfort, that instant familiarity. Plus, you shared the restless night and got to speaking about everything you were missing about her current progress of the war, you spoke of other mindless things until the sun broke the sky. After the sun started to rise from the earth, you shared a mutual craving and spent no time finding your dragons.

“What’s on Eraxis back?” Daenerys points to the saddle on your dragon's back as she lowers her neck down to the ground.

“A saddle,” you say slowly and find it surprising she had to ask. “I can’t ride her bareback, not anymore at least, I have the scars on my thighs to prove that,” you laugh softly and approach Eraxis to grab one of her many horns that align her neck. “It helps me steer her too. And since Rhaenar rides her with me, I had it made so he wouldn’t fall off.”

Daenerys approaches Eraxis and then glances at you. “May I?” She asks and points to your dragon's body.

You nod, and watch Daenerys turn and begin to smile at your dragon as she carefully begins to stroke a part of her neck.

“I find it quite easy to ride Drogon with no saddle,” she shows off, making you scoff in amusement. “Then again it’s not like I have had much of an education besides what feels natural, and the few books I did have.”

You hum and smile at her. “Well don’t worry, I am here now. I can teach you all I’ve learned about our family.”

Daenerys eyes drift to you and her gaze softens as a softer smile appears on her lips.

“Now,” you say playfully and begin to climb onto Eraxis. “Let’s fly, yes?” You smirk down at her, and Daenerys begins to grin before she rushes over to Drogon to climb on him.

Since this won’t be a long flight, you don’t bother restraining yourself on her, you just climb on your saddle and grab your handles before you speak to Eraxis in High Valyrian. “<Fly, girl.>”

Without hesitation Eraxis begins to run off the hill, and Drogon follows, creating thunderous stomps on the green hill until both dragons flap their wings and take flight.

At first Daenerys and you are riding side to side, glancing once at one another with playful looks as both dragons gain more momentum and fly higher. However, it’s once Eraxis reaches the clouds that you turn her to her side, exposing her belly to Drogon, before you then drift to the left to hide within the clouds.

Drogon calls out for Eraxis, most likely to know her whereabouts, but Eraxis stays quiet and flaps her wings, blowing air and clouds behind her before she twirls upward rapidly and shoots out above Drogon. Once again the black dragon calls out, and this time Eraxis responds. You then lift your body off the saddle to peek down, catching Daenerys urge Drogon forward so she could lead, instead of being right under you.

You grin at the action and push the handle forward, causing Eraxis to flap her wings harder and get ahead of Drogon with ease. Daenerys looks up and sees, and then as if they have been mentally communicating, Drogon flies up.

Before they both could lose them, you motion Eraxis to fly up as well. Now both dragons have their bellies exposed to one another as you all fly up.

The dragons screech, and you snicker before you lean forward and exclaim happily, “<Dracarys!>”

Eraxis blows out a cloud of fire, and as Drogon was going to approach it, you make Eraxis drift to the side so you both could then begin diving down.

Daenerys doesn’t notice you flying in front of her anymore until she’s past the fire cloud. And when she sees you and Eraxis diving down, she beams and makes Drogon do the same.

Since gravity is what is pulling you down, Daenerys and Drogon don’t take long to catch up, but Eraxis and you do end up beating her to the surface of the ocean water. Albeit before Eraxis could splash in, she instead flies up and only lets her body barely skim above the water, creating ripples on the surface as she flies past.

Drogon and Daenerys on the other hand drift to the side and he skims the tip of his wing in the water as he flies at his side. When he fixes himself he then flies at your side, letting Daenerys and you turn your heads to smile at one another.

Now as little as you have known one another, there was a sense of a connection no one else can understand. For the first time you both could share the joys of flying with another soul, for the first time it wasn’t just the two of you alone in the skies with your dragons. It was now you and her. Her and you. Together.

However, as you flew, as you got closer to the castle, you could now spot Dorne, Greyjoy, and Tyrell ships sailing to Dragonstone. Daenerys sees them too, but instead of flying above them like you, she flies ahead without you. Yet you don’t stay just above them for long, you instead fly to the first Dorne ship leading the way and stay flying by it.

And since only the people you were truly closest to, and a few trusted guards knew of Eraxis, those who didn’t gawked as they saw you on a dragon, and as they literally saw a dragon. Those who did know about Eraxis however, like Tyene, looked excited and happy to see her again. Your other sisters climbed out to deck to watch Eraxis too, but unlike Tyene, they watched with more calm and collected demeanors.

Once you landed on the sand to wait for them to get to shore, Tyene shares that same excitement for your dragon when she arrives. She didn’t even bother to greet you.

“Eraxis!” She exclaims and rushes past you to reach Eraxis. And since Tyene, Nymaria, Tyrstane, and Obara helped you raise her, Eraxis was comfortable around their presence and didn't fail to let herself get caressed.

“This is where you wanted to come to so badly?” Nymeria asks in a teasing manner as she and Obara approach you after they climb off the boat.

You look back at the castle gates and nod. “This is where I was born…albeit I do prefer Dornes heat, and the Water Gardens.”

“It’s very bland,” Obara doesn't hold back from saying.

You hum as you can’t help but agree since you are used to more color because of where you were raised.

“How is it going?” You hear your late uncle's paramour, Ellaria, ask as she approaches all of you.

You glance at her and swallow thickly before you speak. “Good. I’ve made peace with my aunt, we were just bonding.” You meet her gaze briefly, but can’t stand looking at her for too long because all you see when you look at her is her with a knife in your uncle's stomach; all you can see is his death, you remember him dying in your arms after you were too late to save him.

You remember pain and grief, and feel it all over again. Ellaria is only alive now because of the love your uncle Oberyn had for her, you only tolerate her because she's Tyene’s mother. Otherwise she would no longer be here.

“Rhaenar is inside,” you say and look back at your sisters. “He’s excited to see you all again. It’s as if he hasn’t seen you in months.”

Obara smirks at the mention, and before you could spend more time out in the chilly air they follow you inside.

——

*LATER*

“If you want the Iron Throne, take it,” Yara Greyjoy tells Daenerys, making her turn to face the table you're all gathered around. “We have an army, a fleet, and four dragons now. We should hit Kings Landing now. Hard. With everything we have. The city will fall within a day.”

You scoff to yourself and drop your gaze to the table.

“If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorm,” Tyrion protests.

“It’s called war,” Ellaria interjects. “You don’t have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.”

You roll your eyes and proceed to lift your leg over the other.

“I know how you wage war,” Tyrion snaps. “We don’t poison little girls here. Myrcella was innocent.”

“She was a Lannister. There are no innocent Lannister’s,” Ellaria says, and to some degree you can agree with her. But not about what she did, not about Myrcella; like Tyrion said she was innocent, she was also never cruel, not to you, not to Rhaenar. You can understand Tyrion’s anger. Yet you can’t accept their bickering, not if you’re meant to be ally’s now.

“My great regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you,” Ellaria continues to spat, finally causing you to cut in.

“Ellaria, that's enough. Please. Tyrion is the hand of the Queen, you will treat him with respect.” Without bothering to look back you glance over at Tyrion and sigh. “More so because we both know my uncle died fairly. Tyrion is no one to blame for my uncle's carelessness. Besides…” you peer back to side eye her. “You would find it wise to try and forgive him just as I have forgiven you for what you have done.”

There is a bit of silence for a lingering second before Ellaria talks back. “Yes, Princess.”

You hum and let the meeting continue.

“I am not here to be Queen of the ashes,” Daenerys finally inputs.

“That’s very nice to hear,” Lady Olenna of House Tyrell interjects. “Of course, I can’t remember a Queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her. The nobles loved her. And what is left of her now? Ashes. Commoners, nobles, they’re all just children, really. They won’t obey you unless they fear you.”

You glance down, clasp your hands over your knee and let out a small sigh. “May I add something?” You interject and gain everyone’s attention.

“Go on,” Daenerys encourages you.

You sit back and share what comes to mind. “A century back, when our ancestors were fighting amongst each other in the Dance of Dragons…it’s those same commoners that raided the Dragonpit and killed our dragons.” You glance at Daenerys, and then at Lady Olenna. “And I know for damn sure that dragons were feared back then as they are now. Burning Kingslanding down will turn everyone against us. We have to be smarter. We have to make them fear us without killing the people.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension and pulls her gaze away from you to look at Lady Olenna. “I’m grateful to you, Lady Olenna, for your counsel,” Daenerys says. “I’m grateful to all of you. But you have chosen to follow me, I will not attack King's Landing. We,” she makes her word clear. “Will not attack King's Landing.”

You nod in agreement, but Lady Olenna on the other hand doesn’t seem so convinced.

“Then how do you mean to take the Iron Throne?” She questions. “By asking nicely?”

“We will lay siege to the capital surrounding the city on all sides,” Daenerys shares. “Cersei will have the Iron Throne, but no food for her army or the people.”

“But we won’t use Dothraki and Unsullied,” Tyrion adds after your aunt. “Cersei will try to rally the Lord of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty.” He begins to walk around the table as he continues to speak. “Their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we prove her point. Our army should be Westerosi.”

“And I suppose we’re providing the Westerosi?” Ellaria questions,

Tyrion nods. “You are,” he agrees. “Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to Sunspear.”

You slowly begin to put your leg back and lean in as your interest is piqued.

“And her Iron Fleet will ferry the Dornish army,” Tyrion continues, “back up to King's Landing. The Dornish will lay siege to the capital alongside the Tyrell army. Two great kingdoms United against Cersei.”

“So,” Lady Olenna quips. “Your master plan is to use our armies. Forgive me for asking, but why did you bother to bring your own?”

Tyrion places down a dragon figurine that represents Daenerys and her people as he begins to explain and walk again. “The Unsullied will have another objective. For decades House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros. And the seat of that power is Casterly Rock. Greyworm—” you have learned that he is one the Queen's most trusted war advisors, and the commander of the Unsullied army, an old friend now to describe it better.

“…will dial for the Rock and take it,” Tyrion continues and knocks down a lion figure to place down the dragon, leaving a silence to linger thereafter as everyone takes in what was explained.

Yet, it’s you who breaks that silence rather quickly to comment on something else. “In regards to the upcoming siege on Kings Landing, I will meet up with them on Eraxis.”

Both Lady Greyjoy, and Ellaria turn their heads to look at you, and agree with their look alone.

Yet...“no, that would not be wise,” Tyrion interjects. “People still believe you’re dead, Princess. We can use that to our advantage.”

You scoff and argue, “what better way to reveal myself than to stand with my people? Cersei’s fleet will be there as well, I will fight with my people.”

Tyrion looks back at Daenerys to share a quick look before they look to Lord Varys, and all come to a speechless agreement.

“Go then,” Daenerys says. “When the day comes you can meet with the army and stand to fight alongside them.”

You offer her a kind smile and nod. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Daenerys offers you a nod herself, and then rather than letting the meeting proceed you share one more question.

“What about the North? Have we heard anything from the King?”

Lord Varys steps forward and responds this time. “No. Not yet.”

You hum and sit back to continue on the matter. “Well, as we well know, the North is made up of proud people. The Starks as well have just taken back their house, what will we do if they want to keep being an independent Kingdom?”

“You have dragons,” Lady Greyjoy interjects.

You scoff. “So did Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters when they wanted Dorne to pledge their allegiance to them. What did we do? We resisted for years.” You remind them.

Daenerys slightly narrows her gaze and questions your comment. “What is it you’re trying to say then?”

You begin to smirk and meet her gaze. “Well if they come on their own accord. Listen to them. I doubt they’ll come just to bend the knee, no, they probably want something. If they resist.” You pause briefly. “Then offer them a marriage proposal. What better way to unite the grand Kingdoms than through marriage of the Queen and King?”

Daenerys quirks her brow in disbelief to your suggestion, and Tyrion speaks for her. “That could work. Winter is among us. They will need food for their people, what better way to sway them than to bargain. It will be hard to decline.

Daenerys swallows thickly and interjects. “I hear you, Princess. I agree, but we will decide what to do when the time comes.”

You hesitate before you nod agreement, causing the silence to return for a moment before Daenerys continues to interject. “Do I have your support?”

Lady Greyjoy steps up first. “You have mine,” she adds.

Without hesitation you follow, “Dorne is with you, Your Grace.”

Lastly Olenna nods agreement, and with that this meeting is settled.

“Thank you all,” Daenerys ends the meeting. “Lady Olenna, may I speak with you alone?”

You get out of your seat and walk out of the room alongside Ellaria since you’re both going to the same place.

And it’s a quiet walk at first, you both wait for everyone else to pass by and get out of earshot first. Even then when you were approaching the hall your family was in, neither of you could right away say what you both had to say.

First actually, when you were reaching your chambers, you spoke to the guard bringing in your things. “How are my paintings? Did they make it alright?”

The Dornish guard nods. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Princess,” Ellaria corrects him. “Y/N is a Princess, you shall address her as such.

The guard looks nervously between her and you and immediately bows his head. “My apologies, my Princess.”

You shake your head. “It is quite alright. Go on please.”

The guard nods. “Neither your, nor the…Prince’s items got damaged.”

You offer him a faint smile. “Thank you,” you say and then continue to the hall.

This time Ellaria finds the courage to speak. “How can you not be angry? How can you even look at him after what he’s done to your family?”

You sigh and begin to mess with the rings on one hand. “You know why, Ellaria. He is not mine to make leave, nor is he at fault for my uncle's death. You have accepted the facts of his death. We were there that day, we saw.” You glance over at her, and she meets your gaze. “In regards to…my mother and siblings, it is other Lannisters I set my anger on. I suggest you do the same if you want to keep having a chair at that council, I can't let your anger get in the way.”

Ellaria lets her gaze linger on you as she scowls for a brief moment before she nods. “I will try,” she says.

You nod and offer her a faint smile. “That's all I ask,” you tell her before you open the hall doors and make yourselves known to your sisters and your son.

“Mother!” Rhaenar greets and breaks away from his fighting stance to run over and greet you.

You grin down at him. “Hello, my Sunspot, what have you been doing?”

He points back to Obara. “Aunt Obara and I were just training.”

You smirk and ruffle his dark curly hair. “Did she kick your ass?” You tease him as you make your way to the wine tray.

Obara begins to snicker. “He held his own for a few minutes. It is a much better improvement.”

You grab a cup and serve yourself some Dornish wine before walking over to sit with your back facing the fire so it’s easier to face your family. Whilst Rhaenar returns to Obara to pick up the stuff they had around them.

“Dorne will be part of the siege on King’s Landing,” you share with your sisters.

Tyene stands from her chair and begins to smirk. “Are we?” She questions. “Does that mean we can finally kill Cersei?”

You snicker. “I wish it were that easy. Albeit if all goes well, we will be one step closer.”

“Will you accompany us?” Nymeria asks.

You nod and take a sip of wine before speaking. “I will. Once you reach King’s Landing I will go on Eraxis and help fight the enemy fleet.”

“We will be done in no time then,” Tyene says cockily.

You smirk and nod in agreement. You then proceed to take a longer sip of wine, and when you set your cup down you share a thought you've had since you knew you were coming here.

“I have a proposal for you, sisters.” You sit up and look between the three of them. “After this siege, I want the three of you to join me in the fights to come. I want you to be by my side.”

“Like what? Your ladies in waiting?” Obara asks teasingly.

You scoff and shake your head. “Not quite. More so my protectors. I may have Eraxis, but one can never be so sure now that I am going to reveal myself to Westeros again. Of course only if you want, I won’t force you.”

All three girls look at one another, and Tyene looks at her mother before the three of them look back at you.

“I will join you,” Tyene says first. “Father would have wanted us to stick together. Besides,” she begins to smirk mischievously. “It seems there’s a lot of Dothraki men here I would like to get to know.”

You smile, and then look at Nymeria as she interjects. “I will also join your side.”

Lastly, Obara walks over to be in your pherial view and says her response. “I will also join you too, sister.”

“Yes!” Rhaenar exclaims as he runs over to be a part of the conversation. “Does it mean we won’t have to be apart?”

You glance at him and assure him. “Yes. Exactly.”

Rhaenar grins with excitement, causing Tyene to ruffle his hair whilst he turns to face Ellaria. “What about you aunt Ellaria?” He asks. “Will you stay with us?”

Ellaria draws in a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, little warrior,” she sighs. “I will have to stay with our armies. But I will come see you frequently.”

Rhaenar gets comforted by her response and then takes a seat amongst you all.

In the meanwhile you lift your cup of wine and offer a toast. “Thank you, sisters. And to our bond, may it only get stronger.”

All three of them lift their cups and Tyene is the one that interjects with excitement. “To us! And to our battles to come!”

——

*A YEAR BACK*

The doors locked. The windows are sealed.

Why—

Footsteps are approaching the door.

“Rhaenar?” You call out in hopes it’s your son. “Rhaenar, is that you?”

The footsteps stop and a thud sounds at your door. You run back to your door and try to open them again, but to no avail.

“Rhaenar?” You call again and try to peek through the doors creak. But there’s nothing there. You get on your hands and knees to peek at the creek below and see only boots.

“Hey! Let me out! Guards! Let me out!” You yell and jump back up to your feet. “What’s the meaning of this?!” You pound your fists on the door before you begin to kick it. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out or I will feed you to my dragon!”

There's a shift at the sound of that threat. Yet the damned door remains closed.

“Do you hear me out there? I will feed you to my dragon,” you curse and step back to look around your room for anything that could knock this door down. “Let me talk to my uncle!” You yell as you search your room until you think of your daggers, and sneak over to snatch them from the chest.

“I will give you one more chance,” you sneer and tiptoe back to the door to pick the lock. “Open…” you pause as you hear the lock click. “The door,” you mutter before you throw the doors open, startling the guards that were for some reason placed outside.

“What's going on?” You demand to know from the guards as you point your daggers at them. “Where is my uncle?”

The guard to the right clenches his jaw and gives you an answer. “Go back to your room, Princess.”

You scoff and then lunge at him to throw him back to the wall and point your blade at his throat. “Tell me now,” you sneer and side-eye the other guard who keeps his hands out to show that he won’t hurt you. “What is going on? It’s only a matter of minutes I assume before my dragon comes to me. Should I throw you to her first? Or you,” you point at the watching guard.

“The prince's chambers, he’s there,” the watching guard spits out.

“See,” you scoff and drop your dagger before letting the guard go and stepping back. “Easy. Next time you disobey, I will make Eraxis eat you.” You offer them a sweet smile before you turn and storm over to your uncle's chambers.

And as you pass halls and step outside, guards begin to look at you weirdly, they pass odd looks between one another and give you second looks as they watch you storm past them. The closer you get to your uncle's chambers, the more suspicious they get. They even try to stop you, but you just ignore them and quicken your pace.

Once you begin to see the pool outside his quarters, the guards try to grab you, but you just swiftly slip past them without hassle.

“Princess wait!” One of them yells before you can turn the corner of the patio to reach your uncle's quarters. “Princess!”

He runs after you, and as guards around his pool see you approaching, they unstiffen from their stance and try to rush over to you. Yet you just run past them until you get to the steps of the deck. That’s when you notice the dead Maester and a pool of blood dripping down the steps. As you slowly look up you see Areo Hotah dead next to where Tyene is standing. Next to her is Ellaria pulling a dagger out of your uncle.

“No!” You immediately cry out and gain the attention of your cousin Tyene. “No!” You try to run over to him as he falls to the ground, but Tyene runs over to hold you back. “No!” You sob.

Your uncle Doran flips over and reaches his hand out to you. You try to pull away from Tyene, but guards then help her keep you away.

“When was the last time you left this palace?” Ellaria snaps at your uncle. “You don’t know your own people. Their disgust for you.”

Your uncle begins to cough out blood, but he keeps trying to drag himself away, making you try to squirm with more force to try and reach him.

“Elia Martell, raped and murdered, and you did nothing,” Ellaria spats out, causing you to hit the guards harder. “Oberyn Martell butchered, and you did nothing. You cloud your niece's head with that same ignorance.”

Your uncle flips over again and begins to pant.

“…You’re not a Dornishman. You’re not our prince.” Ellaria finishes spitting out.

“My son Trystane,” your uncle mutters.

Ellaria turns around and scoffs. “Your son is weak just like you. And weak men will never rule Dorne again,” she says spitefully. And finally the guards let you free so you quickly rush over to your uncle and fall down on your knees next to him.

“Uncle,” you cry and cradle him in your arms. “I’m here. I’m here. I will help.”

Your uncle groans, and slowly pulls his bloody hand away from his wound to cup your cheek. “My sweet y/n, you have the power to change the world, do not let vengeance cloud your judgment.”

You sob and shake your head. “I won’t, I swear to you,” you whisper, knowing deep in your heart that there was no saving him anymore.

He lets out labored breath and offers you a wobbly smile. “You have your mothers smile, you know that?” He whispers. “Smile for me, one last time, will you?”

A sob escapes your lips, but you muster a wobbly smile before he takes his last breath and drops his hand from your cheek.

“No,” you mutter as tears stream down your face, and your heart feels as if someone had just stabbed it. “No, no, no!”

“It was for your own good,” you hear Ellaria say from behind you. “Now you can come out of your uncle's shadow. You can finally fulfill your destiny and take back what is yours!”

You swipe your hands over your uncle's eyes to close them, and then slowly put him down.

“Now you can stop living in fear,” she continues.

You let out a shaky breath and drop your head, choosing to ignore her, choosing not to act out on your desire to stab her through the heart.

“Y/N,” she mutters and grabs your shoulder. “Now…” she trails off as the sound of flapping wings sounds from the sky only seconds before Eraxis reveals herself and lands down on the ground, only barely managing to fit her body in the courtyard.

You keep staring at the ground regardless and only hear her growl at Ellaria as she stands stiffly behind you.

“Sister!” Tyene cries out, but doesn’t move.

Eraxis breath slowly unfurls out of her nose, blowing back Ellaria’s dress.

“I watched my own mother die,” you whisper in a quivering voice. “Every night in my dreams. Of course I didn’t know what it meant then, I was only four,” you feign a laugh. “And well it was only fragments of her death, pieces I couldn’t place together. Not until years later. And now it lives over and over in my mind.” You stand up from the ground and let out a shaky breath.

“Do you want to know how that feels, losing a mother?” You ask Tyene, and turn, seeing Eraxis keep her eyes pierced on Ellaria.

“Please,” Tyene pleads to you.

“Do not hate your sisters,” Ellaria interjects, making your eyes snap to her. “They had no fault in it. It was all my doing.”

You swallow thickly and slowly begin to walk around her. “Yes,” you say. “I figured as much. Only you are capable enough to fill their heads with poison.” As you reach Eraxis side you pierce your glare on Ellaria as well, mirroring your dragon's same burning glare.

Ellaria scoffs and lifts her head with confidence. “Tell me what you would have done if I hadn’t killed your uncle?” She spats. “He was a plague. You would have kept hiding, kept dying your hair pretending you’re someone you're not, you would have kept hiding your dragon. You would have kept living in ignorance here. It’s time to wake up y/n!”

Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you have lived your entire life in fear. But she still killed him. And you still couldn’t avoid it.

“I am only sparing your life because of Tyene,” you change the subject, and Eraxis begins to lose her scowl and begins to whimper and lean her head against you. “Betray me again and I will burn you alive.”

Eraxis pulls her snout out the deck and then lifts her head as you walk over to begin mounting her.

Once you’re on your saddle you grab your handles, and Eraxis flies off.

——

*NOW*

“Lower,” you tell Rhaenar and walk over to push his arms down a bit lower. “Pull your arms down.”

The boy sighs. “Uncle Oberyn said this way,” he tries to argue.

You nod and move back. “Yes, I understand, but there are many fighting styles, you have come close to mastering his way, now you must use different tactics,” you advise him and slide your foot back to once again stand in your fighting stance. “If you want to become a great warrior you must know much more.”

Rhaenar sighs and mirrors your stance. He then looks at your blade and lunges, but you quickly change your stance and swipe off his feet.

“That’s no—” Rhaenar cuts himself off and instead pushes himself to his feet.

You drop your head and laugh softly to yourself.

“You did better,” Daenerys tries to assure him as she watches him train—out of simple curiosity she said. “Less complaining this time.”

You chuckle before you turn around and watch the boy scratch the back of his head whilst he walks to grab a spear off the rack.

“Perhaps the young prince could spar with me soon,” Greyworm offers from the Queens side, as he too was curious to watch your morning training session.

You glance at the soldier and then at your son. “How does that sound, Rhaenar, hm? Maybe Greyworm will be a much kinder teacher than I am.”

Rhaenar turns with his spear in hand and offers the soldier a grin that goes from ear to ear. “Yes I would love it!” He exclaims happily.

Greyworm smiles faintly and nods. Daenerys smiles at the boy, and you part your lips to tell him something, but the door then opens and Tyrion and Qhono, the Dothraki Lieutenant, walks in behind him.

“My Queen, Princess,” Tyrion says, and gains the attention of everyone in the room. “Your guest ship has been spotted docking at shore.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension, letting The Hand turn to leave. Qhono albeit lingers and meets your gaze, making you smirk at him before you turn to face Rhaenar. Daenerys catches your interaction but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Go change out of your training clothes,” you tell the boy. “When you’re done go to the Throne room.”

Without argument Rhaenar puts away his sparring weapons and does as he’s told.

Before long you also go and change out of your training outfit, deciding to put on a long red dress that perhaps is too revealing for the chilly weather of Dragonstone. The long matching red cloak that attaches under the golden dragon scales on your shoulders provides some warmth, but then again you never much mind being too cold or too hot in something if it means looking good.

And sure, The King of the North wasn’t yours to impress, if it came to it it’s not you he’d marry, but you still do choose to show off your golden chained gloves that connects to your golden rings, and matches with the golden breast plates that was elegantly carved to go over the dress. You still didn’t choose to cover your exposed chest, or a part of your sides, or your arms. Because the truth is, if it were a choice to choose between armor and dresses, you’d choose the expensive and most beautiful dresses, even for dragon riding.

And well there is maybe Qhono that you are trying to impress.

“Come,” you call Rhaenar over once you walk in the Throne room.

Rhaenar sighs and lets you walk to where he was standing already.

“Your pin is all crooked,” you let him know and unpin the dragon pin to correct it. “There. Better. Handsome.” You pat his shoulder.

Rhaenar rolls his eyes out of embarrassment, making you laugh softly before you fix his hair.

“Mother,” he whispers sharply and pulls back to then glance back at the Queen.

Daenerys catches his embarrassed glance and shoots him a teasing smile.

“Fine,” you scoff lightheartedly. “I’ll go.” You then go and stand in your spot to wait patiently.

Once those doors open, the first one to walk in is Qhono, Tyrion, and Daenerys most trusted advisor Missendei of Naath follow, but you watch Qhono, as he watches you while he walks past you. You don’t notice the King of The North right away, not even when Missendei says all of Daenerys titles, you instead then look at your rings when Qhono is out of sight until you hear your name.

“…and the Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell, Princess of Dorne, daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.”

You finally blink and look up, finally taking in the sight of the King of the North, and noticing that his eyes are already on you. They were on you for most the time he’s been in here but you didn’t notice, not until now.

Until now you see that he isn’t as tall as you imagined Northern men to be, he isn’t as musclary built, or as hairy. He’s quite small, more lean. His hair is dark, as dark as perhaps a moonless night. His eyes aren’t rough, they’re soft and a very pretty dark brown you can get lost in. He has soft features, scars on his face that he wears more than well.

The King of the North is handsome and breath-catching. Much to your surprise.

“And Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, son of the princess.” Missendei finishes introducing everyone that she needed to, leaving a very long silence as the King of the North looks at his advisor.

“This is Jon Snow,” the advisor reveals, letting said man glance at the Queen. “He’s King in the North.”

You smile at the introduction and once again catch the softened gaze of Jon Snow, the King of the North. His gaze lingers on yours, as your eyes linger on him. Neither of you dare to look away, it seems in a way you’re both too mesmerized. For that brief moment until Daenerys spoke up all that existed was just the two of you.

It was such a…weird and new feeling. One you never want to lose.

.

.

.

.

#Sandstorm #chapter 1 #fanfiction #damn-stark #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #Jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #Jon snow x fem!reader #Jon snow x Targaryen!reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #Jon snow x Targaryen!femreader #jow snow fanfiction #Jon snow fanfic #jon snow fic #dorne #Daenerys #oberyn martell #doran martell #elia martell #rhaegar targaryen #fanfic #tyrion lannister #missandei #Greyworm #fluff #angst

[damn-stark]

Chapter 14 Ice & fire

Chapter 14 of Sandstorm

A/N- Stop this my favorite chapter, and the next one will be so good and full of fluff too.

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff!, talks of birth, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS LATER*

Hints of smoke filter the room as the candles are brought to life, basking the room and the altar with its yellow dancing hue.

It’s hard, but you manage to get on your knees on the pillow and slowly look up at the portrait of Rhaenar. “Hello my boy,” you whisper as if he were here. “Sorry I didn't come last night, I,” you scoff softly. “Couldn’t stay awake,” you laugh softly and drop your gaze as you clasp your hands together. “I’ve come to update you, all the forests at Storm's End are finally burnt, no tree means no ships. This morning the soldiers managed to completely cut off all food from coming in and out of Storm's End as well. Let’s see how King Gendry handles this problem.”

You sigh deeply and look up at his portrait; the only way you can see his face ever again. “Thanks to the Riverlands alliance and the Reach we’ve managed to reach King’s Landing borders, we have them surrounded. It’s been a short war, but well she hardly has any allies here…she’s just stubborn….” you trail off and groan as a a dull but irritating pain radiates throughout your lower back. “Anyway, I just want you to know that I’m in good hands here with Jon…I’m grateful he’s with me. He doesn’t leave my side now that the babies are due any week. He…” you swallow thickly and smile softly. “He’s kept my anger in check. Oh! And Helios left now, last night, he’s on his own now. Hopefully, I’ll see him again.”

Your smile then falters and tears fill your eyes, but you hold them back and instead offer him a happy smile. “That’s all for tonight, I’ll return tomorrow. I love you.” You linger in front of the altar for a moment longer before you try and push yourself up. However, the huge belly you now have forbids you proving Jon right; you do need him by your side all the time now.

“Ser Podrick,” you call out to the Knight standing outside the door. “May you come help me up? I believe Jon is right.” You look back and expect the door to open right away, but there’s no sound of metal armor brushing against each other, there’s no hurried footsteps as the kind knight tries to hurry to do as commanded, there’s silence.

“Ser Podrick?” You call out again. You wait, but nothing. “Okay,” you breathe out and now drop your head to try and get up yourself.

It’s a struggle, definitely, but you start to move up to your feet. The door then creaks open and you scoff breathlessly. “I’ve done it, Ser Podrick, no need to help now.” You smirk proudly and peer back, and that’s when you notice that the man hidden under a cloak is not Ser Podrick, or anyone you know; and you know that because you’ve made sure to take in all the faces of the soldiers that fight for you, everyone that lives in this castle and or is temporarily staying. This man is a stranger.

You try to reach for your concealed blade, but the man snatches your wrist and shakes his head. “No,” he says in an accent you’ve only heard across the sea and…with the Unsullied. She sent him.

You try to fight back and use your knee to hit him, but you can’t move your leg that far at the moment, so you instead stumble back and hit the altar. You try to reach for a candle, but then another man barges in and he quickly makes sure to cover your mouth and nose with a cloth that makes you lightheaded for a second, before darkness follows as you fall unconscious.

——

*JON*

The view of the stuffed wolves shifts as it tilts to the side. “Damn,” he hisses under his breath and reaches over to sit it up again and tilt it again so it can stay seated like the other one on the other cradle.

Just now a small package had arrived from Old Town, Sam had sent presents for the unborn twins; two black stuffed wolves. And Jon wanted to surprise you, but there was one defiant stuffed wolf that wouldn't stay up.

“Fuck it,” he gives up and leaves the one wolf on its side. He however does stay in front of the cradles and watches them even if they lay empty for now. A knock albeit then raps on the door, interrupting his quiet moment.

“Come in,” he addresses the visitor.

The door opens and footsteps walk in past the door, he turns and sees Ser Brienne, and the other six Queensguard Knights and Ser Jaime outside the door with worried expressions that make him falter.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne interjects and averts her gaze. “It’s the Queen…”

His eyes widen and a smile begins to tug on his lips as he thinks that you went into labor.

“….she’s gone,” Ser Brienne finishes, causing Jon’s smile to fall and panic and disbelief to paint over his face—“she was taken. Ser Podrick was put down by some kind of sleeping effect. I’m sorry, I will go on horseback and try to follow the trail of the abductors.”

Jon drops his eyes and stumbles back. “How…how could you let this happen?” He spats. “Why wasn’t there more than one guard with her?!”

“She went to the altar within the castle grounds, we never thought they’d take her from here. I’m sorry.”

Jon exhales and turns around as he shakes his head before he knocks the pitcher of water and cups off the table out of anger for them, your Queensguard, and himself for not disobeying you and staying by your side.

“We think that the abductors were probably undercover, or hiding and preying on the Queen from the shadows.”

Jon scoffs and then abruptly picks up his sword to storm out of the room. “Ser Brienne, you and two others of the Queensgaurd hurry and try to catch up to the abductors trail, two of you can stay with me,” he immediately commands. “Ser Rayne, have the castle locked down, no one leaves or comes in. Wake up the members of the small council have them convene at the hall, rally up the soldiers to get ready to march out.”

“One more thing,” Ser May adds. “There were two soldiers; an Unsullied and what we assume to be one of the Second Sons soldiers caught trying to escape the castle.”

Jon’s eyes snap to the woman knight and the corner of his lips curl. “Where?” He asks.

“We tied them up outside in the courtyard. Your sister, Lady Arya, is watching them.”

Jon nods and quickens his footsteps to head out to the courtyard first.

“If I may,” Ser Jaime cuts in and hurries up to catch up to Jon’s side. “I would like to accompany Ser Brienne and the Queensguard. I owe the Queen my life, let me help.”

Jon looks at Ser Jaime and then glances at his golden hand. The Knight notices and counters.

“I’m not whole, but again, I owe her my life. And…I made her and her father a promise. I might’ve failed before, but I won’t now. I’ll find her, protect her and your children.”

Jon’s hesitant, he only wanted the best after you, but if he wants to go then he can’t stop him. “Fine,” Jon says. “Go.”

Jaime offers Jon a nod before he and the others depart and hurry off to do as said. Once Jon makes it outside, Tyrion joins his side. “If I may—”

“You cannot,” Jon cuts him off. “For all I know you were the one that let in those people that took Y/N. Actually I should have you arrested. Ser Lana, take him to the cells, I’ll think of what will happen after I’ve brought back my wife.”

The Knight right away grabs Tyrion and pins his arms back, but he still manages to cut in with more words that begin to irritate Jon. “It’s smart to lock me up. I don’t have anything to do with it and only just found out as I saw your sister torturing the soldiers, but you won’t get an answer from the unsullied. Nothing will make him talk.”

Jon stops and turns on his heels to talk back. “I don’t need him to talk.” Jon clenches his jaw and gives him his back to continue towards the courtyard.

When he gets there he sees the two men tied back to back, both of them are bleeding but only one of them looks affected by the torture afflicted.

“Have either of them spoke?” Jon asks Arya.

Arya stands up straight and shakes her head. “No. Not yet, but they will.”

Jon shoots a glare at the unsullied. “Only one will,” he deadpans before he snatches the collar of the Unsullied’s chest armor and begins to drag him out towards the gate. “Bring the other one,” he commands Arya.

And without question or hesitation his sister obeys and trusts his actions, letting him feel thankful for that at this very moment.

“<You’ll die screaming in flames,> the Unsullied spats in Valyrian probably thinking that neither Jon or Arya can understand, but thanks to you he was learning and understood every word.

It’s why Jon stops in his tracks and drags the Unsullied around to be able to face him as he counters back venomously. “<After you.> He rolls his eyes ahead and continues to drag the man out, the gates open without him needing to say anything, and there in the darkness that blanketed the hill ahead lands a green beast. Due to the cloudy night he’s not seen, but his thunderous footsteps are heard before his blazing bronze eyes appear ahead, they begin to narrow as he begins to growl.

Jon walks towards Rheagal and leaves the Unsullied soldier there on the ground, before he steps back and clasps his hands in front of him. And without hesitation, remorse or a moment to ask questions, Jon says those menacing words. “<Dracarys>”

Rhaegal breathes out fire over the soldier, swallowing him in flames within seconds. The intense heat hits Jon, but he doesn’t move, he stands in front of the flames and watches the soldier begin to squirm, clench his jaw but eventually scream out when he couldn’t handle the flames eating at his flesh and bones. Jon watches the flesh melt off his bones before nothing is left but black burnt bones.

When all that moves is the flames Jon slowly turns around and faces the other soldier with a burning glower on his face. Rhaegal approaches Jon to be beside him, and growls at the soldier without needing to say anything. And this one soldier, unlike the other one, is visibly shaking, sweat beads roll off his face, and a foul smell begins to come off him as he just keeps his eyes on the dragon beside Jon.

“Please,” the soldier begs under Aryas grip. “Please. Mercy.”

Jon stomps towards the soldier and assures him in an angry filled tone. “My dragon won’t eat you, but only if you tell me where they took my wife.”

The soldier swallows thickly and slowly slides his eyes to Jon. He hesitates for a moment but his fear takes control and he can’t help but betray the Queen he was meant to be fighting for. “Harrenhal, Queen Daenerys asked to bring her to Harrenhal. That’s all I know, I swear, please…mercy. I’ll fight for you.”

Jon lets out a deep breath and without needing to say anything Arya pulls out her dagger and slices the man’s throat, killing him instantly. “Let Rhaegal eat him,” Jon grumbles before he sets towards the great hall.

When he’s inside all the members are already there, most of them are not as collected as usual because of how late it is, but they’re there and all go quiet as Jon strides in with his jaw clenched and his gaze narrowed. Arya follows behind with her chin raised high, and they notice you’re not leading the way or behind them, providing even more confusion.

“I know the hour is late, my lords and ladies,” Jon addresses everyone when he’s on the platform facing them. “But a dire situation arose, the Queen, my wife,” he sighs and clenches his fists. “Was abducted.”

Murmurs spread around the room and Sansa gets up from her chair, losing her smile as she thought you were having the babies.

“Queen Daenerys sent some of her men undercover to take her when she was visiting her son's altar,” Jon shares with them. “No one was killed during the act, and the Queensguard did manage to find two who had fallen behind. I killed them already after I got information from one of them. They’re taking her to Harrenhal. ”

“How did they sneak in and not get detected?” Sarella demands to know. “Why did her guards not stop them? That’s why they’re there!”

“Yes,” Jon agrees, “but they couldn’t, or at least that’s to my understanding, Ser Brienne said Ser Podrick was put to sleep that’s how they took her.”

“Where is Ser Brienne?” Elia asks. “And that dwarf? It was probably him, he was probably her spy, that's why they got in without getting noticed.”

The others quietly agree, and Sansa can’t defend him now because she might be right.

“Ser Brienne, and Ser Jaime and three others from the Queensguard went after the abductors. Lord Tyrion was placed under custody by me just now,” Jon shares. “He’ll remain there until after I return with Queen Y/N, after that we will decide what to do. As to how they got in?” He pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I do know is that I will get her back. Daenerys seems to be getting desperate, she knows she can’t hold Kings Landing without allies, winter is cruel and she can’t feed the people she wants to protect. She’s losing but doesn’t want to fail, it’s probably why she took the Queen, she probably wants us to surrender for her return, and if…y/n gives birth then she’ll use the children as leverage as well. But I won’t give up,” Jon adds and exhales deeply.

“I won’t lose y/ns fight, nor will I lose her, I will bring her back home and we’ll take that throne. Daenerys wants this war to come to an end, so we’ll give her what she wants.” Jon spats menacingly.

“Arya,” he names and the girl straightens up. “Sarella,” he adds, causing her to lift her chin. “Ser Davos, Lord Royce, you will lead the attack on the ground. They may have the numbers, but they’re on our lands, we know our lands, Daenerys doesn’t, we have the advantage. I will ride on Rhaegal and fight Daenerys and Drogon, keep her away from the armies while Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime and the Queensguard find y/n,” he continues, “we will find y/n and bring an end to this war.”

“What about me?” Elia interjects and jumps to her feet. “What will I do? It’s my cousin that they took, my sister, I can help.”

Jon’s gaze drifts to the girl, he knows she’s good on horseback, probably better than he is, but no matter how skilled she is he can’t bring himself to risk her life….and well Sansa does need people here to help her in case Daenerys wants to attack while the armies are marching elsewhere.

“Stay here,” Jon shares with the girl, already noticing her disbelief and annoyance. “Help Sansa keep the castle safe. That’s your job.”

Elia parts her mouth to argue back but Sarella pulls her back and whispers something to her, bringing silence and no other objections.

“Bran, if you can…see where Eraxis is, we might need her in battle,” Jon adds as he steps down the steps. “As for everyone else, fight, win, and don’t die, your Queen depends on it. Now let’s bring Queen Y/N back.”

——

*LATER. YOU*

The sound of booming thunder startles you awake. Is it storming outside?

You slowly sit up, and immediately that daze that took you captive and made you believe you were home disappears as you notice the small stone room you’re in.

That’s right…you were taken by Unsullied, by Daenerys.

Where did they bring you?

The room smells humid, thanks to the light provided by the single dancing flame eating away at the torch, you notice moss growing between the creaks of the wall. There’s only one window, but it’s far too high for you to see through. There’s one tiny bed, and a vase of water on the wooden nightstand, nothing else resides in this room besides that.

What’s her plan with you?

“Hey,” you call out and slide off the bed to stride towards the door. “Hey.”

There’s no answer.

“Hey!” You yell out louder and begin banging at the door. “Where am I? Where’s Daenerys! Tell her to come and stop being a fucking coward!” You pound both fists on the door, but receive no answer, so you turn and glance at the window; it’s far too small for you to escape out of with the belly, even if you didn’t have it, it would still be far too small. But it can give you insight about where you are.

Yet…there’s nothing for you to use to climb on and see through it, damn it!

You turn back around and begin to pound on the door again. “Tell me why I'm here! Bring her!”

Nothing again. You don’t have weapons to use. Damn. So there’s nothing left to go but keep hitting your hand against the door to annoy them and hopefully get an answer. Several minutes pass before finally through the sound of heavy rain multiple footsteps begin to approach the door. You back up expecting them to open the door, but instead the panel from the door's small window opens, and Daenerys' face appears.

“You should be resting,” she says, that’s the first thing she tells you after what she did—“it’s not safe for the babies—”

“You should let me out,” you cut her spitefully. “Or come in here. Let's see how good it goes for you.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’m no fool, I know that the moment I walk in there you’ll try and kill me, as you know I have someone I have to protect now too.”

You clench your jaw and glare at her.

“You won’t be hurt,” she adds. “But you won’t be let out either.”

“Jon will come,” you sneer. “He’ll get me out.”

A sly smirk tugs on her face before she retorts. “I’m counting on it, but you can save him from the fate that he'll meet today. Bend the knee, you’ll be pardoned and get to live your life with your children wherever you want. Don’t, and lose him and all those that come after you.”

You swallow thickly and rather than seeming upset, defeated and give into submission, you lean forward and hold her gaze with a burning glare; even if inside your heart was beginning to tear at the thought of losing the one person that mattered to you now, the only person keeping you together, Jon.

“Kill him,” you snarl. “And I will kill you after I carve out that damn baby out of your stomach.”

Daenerys blinks in disbelief.

“Ask me,” you retort with a mischievous smirk even if you begin to feel a sharp cramp on your lower stomach. “Ask me how it is that you were able to get pregnant.”

Daenerys stiffens and her jaw clenches. She doesn’t reply so you continue.

“It was me. I was the one that reversed that witches spell. You should be on your knees thanking me you fucking bitch. Now, ask me why I did it.” You snicker.

Daenerys lifts her chin and looks at you with a gaze full of tears. She backs away and the panel then closes, blocking out the view of her tear covered eyes.

So she has you here as a trap to lure Jon and everyone else here? She wants to kill Jon now too?

No…not him. Anyone but him. If he dies…what else is there? What—

Again there’s a sharp cramp on your lower stomach and back. This was a lot more painful, it rattles your entire being.

The babies?

You twist around and look around panicked, no ounce of anger lingering behind, no hate for Daenerys, nothing but worry. Thunder claps in the sky, causing your shoulders to jump and more pain to attack your body.

But you’re here, stuck in a cell without Jon, they can’t come yet. Not yet. You’re all alone here, without even your dragon to keep you company. They can’t come yet—

More pain hits you and this time water pours out of you and runs down your legs and hits the stone floor. “No,” you murmur with tears in your eyes. “No. Not yet, please.”

Yet you have no word on the matter, they’re coming fast.

You try to lay on the bed, but the pain becomes insufferable, it makes you restless and doesn’t let you keep quiet anymore, you begin to grunt, groan and cry out as the first baby begins to come out fast. It’s not like before either; and maybe it’s due to the fact that you had your sisters, midwives and maesters with you, but this time the pain of labor is worse.

So much so that without you knowing Eraxis even feels the suffering you’re under, unbeknownst to you Jon had come across her on his way to you and he heard Eraxis cry erupt in the sky. He however doesn’t know why she screeches, he thinks it’s because she knows you’re missing. She might miss you, that’s what he thinks.

But no, you were under withering pain, covered in sweat and squatting on the ground.

“Come on!” You bellow out and then cry. “Get out!”

Thunder keeps erupting in the skies, sometimes it drowns out your cries, but sometimes it seems you’re louder.

A few minutes, or hours later who knows, just as Thunder roars in the sky, out slides the first baby after your last push.

“Oh,” you gasp softly and shakily lift the baby up in your arms, noticing that the first one out is Rhaenyra. She’s so tiny, so red and beautiful.

Rhaenar was the same when he came out….

However, he cried right away, Rhaenyra doesn’t. She stays quiet and you can’t help but grow concerned.

“Rhaenyra,” you whimper.

And as if understanding her name at that second she then breaks out crying, she begins to squirm in your hands, and squints her swollen eyes.

“Hi,” you muse and press your forehead against hers very gently. “Hi my love. Hi Rhaenyra, it’s okay, you’re okay. You’re with me. I’ll keep you safe.” You smile, but it’s only for a second because more pain then overwhelms you as the other baby follows to come out.

You try to be quiet so as to not startle Rhaenyra, but you can’t keep quiet, you cry out as you push. You place Rhaenyra down on the skirt of your dress and claw your nails on the floor as you keep pushing.

Thankfully the second baby comes out faster, and this one uses his new fresh pair lungs to cry out the moment they’re out.

“It’s okay,” you whisper and lift up the second baby, noticing that it’s a boy. The second one is a beautiful baby boy. “Hello my sweetling.” You cry out happily as you pull him towards you to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Hello my love.”

You then proceed to put him down next to his sister, and rapidly yank off your necklace to wrap the chain around the umbilical cords to cut them off. Once that’s done you pull the thin blanket off the bed to wrap them up and keep them warm, before you pick up the both of them and cradle them in your arms with a wobbly grin, and tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know, I know, your father isn’t here, but you’ll meet him soon, he’s going to be so happy. He’s so excited to meet the both of you.” You smile and watch them both calm down as they hear you talking to them. “Does it sound scary outside? Yeah that’s thunder, but it’s okay, you know my uncle Oberyn, your uncle, said that being born during a storm is a sign of good luck, a good omen, you my babies will have a good and exciting life.” You grin and watch the baby boy watch you with eyes as dark as Jon are. “But as for now it’ll go away.”

You then reach for the boy's hand, and he doesn't fail to wrap his little hand around your finger. “I’m sorry,” you direct at him. “I’m sorry you don’t have a name yet, your father…hasn’t decided. He’s too nervous about it.” You laugh softly. “You look like him,” you whisper. “Same dark eyes, same dark hair.”

The afterbirth comes out but you pay no mind to it, you’re too busy admiring the babies. “You, my lovely girl, have his eyes too, they’re so beautiful and dark.” Her hair albeit wasn’t the same color as Jon’s and her twin brothers, she doesn’t have a lot yet, but from what you can see, you can tell her hairs are silver-white just like yours, and your fathers.

She has Jon’s eyes though, they both do. Thank the gods they do. It’s like having him with you.

“There’s so many people happy to meet you.” You continue talking to them, unable to help your smile as they both watch you as if they’re hanging on to every word you’re saying.

“When we get home you’ll also meet your cradle mates, the dragon eggs your big brother Rhaenar picked out for you.” You let out a shaky breath as tears threaten to come out, but you hold them in. “You’ll meet Eraxis and Rhaegal too. You’ll fly soon as well, I promise.” You muster a smile and can’t help but caress their little cheeks.

They keep watching you, they bore their deep and dark eyes in you, and they’re all you can watch too. That is until the door opens and Greyworm walks in with a stoic face.

“Get out,” you grumble.

He however ignores you and approaches you. He crouches down and takes them, he takes the babies from your arms.

“No,” you sneer and try and push yourself up. “No! Give them back to me!”

The babies notice the stranger holding them, they don’t feel your warmth anymore and cry out. And that only makes you panic more, and triggers an adrenaline rush that lets you stand on your feet.

“Give me back my babies!” You bellow out as Greyworm only gets further away. “Greyworm!” You reach out for him, but the door then slams shut behind him and your babies. All you’re left to do is once again pound on the door and cry out, but this time with more desperation, this time with fuming anger, and thick tears.

You hit and hit the door over and over again until your hands are bloody and bruised. Eventually though the adrenaline runs its course and exhaustion overruns your body, leaving you stranded against the door and battling sleep.

The thunder had seemed to stop too, which is good, the twins are probably scared. Without the thunder however the cell was quiet, and it’s dangerous because it tempts you to sleep.

But you can’t fall asleep, you need to stay awake and keep trying to get that door open. You need to rescue your babies, they need you….

But this exhaustion is like a weight, it keeps pressing and pressing down. It dulls your senses, making your vision blur as your eyelids begin to droop, your hearing begins to tune out, causing you to ignore the rattling that shook the fragile castle and the hundreds of footsteps outside of the castle that sounded like more thunder. Your mind begins to go quiet as well as it dangles between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Grunting and groaning, metal clashing against each other begins to sound outside the door, but it seems distant so you ignore it and can’t help but rest your eyes.

Just for a second…

Alas, only a few minutes before the door gets pushed open, hitting your back and causing you to snap your eyes open.

The door gets pushed again, so you quickly drag yourself to the side and have no choice but to wait for the visitor that slowly creeps inside.

There’s no kind of weapon around you, so you hide in the corner of the cell and hold your breath so as to not be heard. A foot steps inside first before the door gets pushed open more, you then turn your head away and clench your jaw.

Yet just as the person peeks their head inside you quickly recognize the head of dirty blond hair. “Ser Jaime?” You breathe out, causing his head to snap to the side where you sit.

He gasps as his eyes widen with shock at the sight of your withered body.

“Your Grace,” he mutters before he rushes inside. And as he does come to you, you notice blood dripping down his leg.

“You’re bleeding,” you point out and stay pressed against the wall.

He shakes his head and crouches down, letting you see him twist his face as pain strikes from his leg. “Don’t worry about me, let’s get you up and out of here. You need to see a maester.”

You let him help you up but shake your head. “No…no, the baby’s,” you whisper and grab his arms to meet his gaze with tears clouding your eyes. “Greyworm took them.”

Jaime shakes his head again. “You’re in no condition to chase after anyone, let Jon do it, or Ser Brienne.”

“Jon?” You question. “Where is he?”

“Don’t you hear it?” He says and glances back. “He’s fighting the Queen to get you back.”

You shake your head. “She’ll kill him, she wanted to drag him out—”

“Don’t worry,” he cuts you off. “He’s not alone, he’s brought a whole army with him. I’ve never seen someone determined to get someone back...I envy it.”

The corner of your lips pull to a small smile at the thought of Jon coming after you, at the thought of him fighting for you, but the longer you stay here, the longer you’re apart from them.

“Then he can fight Daenerys,” you retort and pull away from him. “I’ll go after Greyworm and rescue my children. You shouldn’t doubt my determination, Ser Jaime.” You scoff as you begin to walk out of the room, feeling the exhaustion get pushed back as determination and fury replaces it for now.

“You are very stubborn,” Jaime throws out at you as he walks out after you.

However, before you can make it far you stop as you see the bloody bodies of Unsullied soldiers laid on the ground. You don’t feel bad, you’re just impressed that a man with one hand did all this.

“I’m impressed,” you tell the man and bend down to pick up a spear off the ground. “You did well.”

Jaime scoffs. “Not well enough…” he trails off and you glance at his bleeding leg.

“Let me have a—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Later. Right now tell me where we’re going. Do you know where Greyworm is taking your kids?”

You drop your gaze and search the ground as you think. “I,” you mutter and blink repeatedly.

Luckily you don’t linger too much in thought because it hits you quickly—There was a battle here now, Daenerys was here to lure you and Jon out so you can bend the knee. If you refused then her plan was taking the babies and forcing you to your knees. So they won’t be here, not so close…

“Kings Landing,” you throw out. “We may have them surrounded, but they can still go in and out, that’s where he’s going.”

Jaime doesn’t question you and nods, letting you add one more thing before you leave. “Thank you, ser Jaime. I owe you my life.”

Jaime shakes his head. “No you don’t. Now come on, my horse isn’t far from here.” He proceeds to grab your arm and begins to lead you out of the castle, and the closer you get outside the more you hear the sound of battle cries, shouts of pain, and clashing metal.

Yet the noise doesn’t compare to what plays in the sky. When you get out of the cover of the ruined castle, there up above rages a beautiful battle between dragons. Their fires light the sky like if thunder and lightning played within the clouds, as if the sun was out hiding within the thick stormy and smoke clouds. It was captivating.

“Here,” Ser Jaime snaps you from your stupor and pulls you to a brown horse. “Can you ride?”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Yes.” Your body fucking hurts, but fuck it.

Ser Jaime helps you mount the horse before he struggles to get on his. Eventually when you make it out on the dirt road, the sound of the battle on the ground grows quieter the further you get, but the sound of the dragons fighting does grow quieter, it doesn’t fade in the distance, their screeches and roars are still heard clearly miles away.

You look up and you can still see them battling, and you also catch someone else beside Rhaegal and Drogon in the sky. You hadn’t heard her at first, it didn’t seem like she was with them either when you first got out of the castle, but you see her now hidden between the clouds. And then she isn’t there.

The fire Drogon blasted out extinguishes, hiding the view of your white scaled dragon. It makes you slow down your horse to watch what comes next as your fascination grows.

However the darkness lingers, letting you not see a thing. You can only hear the sound of Eraxis screech before seconds later it seems that Rheagal blasts out fire next, letting you see Eraxis jaw clamped on Drogon’s neck, and her claws digging in his wing, causing them both to begin twirling down to the ground.

It was awestrucking, but…why was Eraxis there and not searching for you? It’s not like she would pay much mind to the battle without you there to tell her. There was also this anger within her, it was strange and new, it was almost like she was possessed.

Was she perhaps mad that you were gone?

Yeah…maybe that’s it.

Nevertheless, you nudge the horse to pick up its speed once again, letting you catch up to Ser Jaime before there’s a loud thud that shakes the ground.

“What was that?” Jaime asks.

You peer back and smirk softly. “The dragons.”

——

*A FEW MOMENTS LATER*

“Rhaenyra…and undecided. Jon hasn’t chosen a name.”

“Rhaenyra.” He nods softly. “It's a good name for a Queen.”

You smile faintly. “Yes, it is.”

“We’ll save your kids. If that’s the last thing I do,” he assures you, making you pull your gaze away from the dirt road below the green hill you wait on.

“Thank you,” is all you can say again.

Ever since he gave you his word he’s nothing but loyal. It’s more than what you deserve.

“There,” Jaime breaks the short silence and points. You follow his finger and catch a single carriage approaching rapidly. Since it’s dark you don’t see the rider right away, you have to nudge the horse to take a step forward, that’s when you gasp as you catch Greyworm at the front, leading the horse.

“All right, I’ll block him off at the front and you sneak behind him when we begin to fight,” Jaime explains. “As soon as you get those babies, you run out of here and meet Ser Brienne, she’ll be at the south side of the castle. Don’t linger behind, just take them. Understand?”

And leave him to die? He’s not the warrior he once was, it will be like easy practice to Greyworm. Jaime will die.

“I can’t leave you to die!” You snap out with concern.

Jaime meets your gaze and shakes his head. “I’ve told you already, I owe you, don’t worry about me.”

You draw in a deep breath, and just as you’re going to argue, he nudges his horse to run down the hill as Greyworm gets closer. You wait a little longer and just watch Jaime get further down the green hill until he eventually runs out onto the road and blocks the carriage's way, causing Greyworm to come to an immediate halt.

They share a few words from what you can tell, but you’re too far to hear. They actually take a while talking, it begins to make you desperate to reach your babies, but you have to wait until the weapons are drawn.

They better be in there though.

You draw out a deep breath and clench your jaw as you watch them through the darkness the stormy clouds cast. It’s not until a few minutes later that finally Ser Jaime draws out his long Valyrian steel sword that you finally can run down.

The sound of his weapon clashing against Greyworms makes you want to help, but you force yourself to just stop behind the carriage. You don’t look at the battle going on ahead, you try and block out the sound and quickly slide off your horse, causing more pain on your lower body. You then proceed to run to the back of the carriage and throw the doors open, but gasp in surprise as you see two Unsullied soldiers sitting there at both sides of a wooden cradle.

“<Princess,>” one of them says.

You meet his black eyes and counter. “<It's Queen now. Let me take them and I’ll spare your lives.>”

The one on the right laughs and then shakes his head. “<We can’t kill you, but you won’t get these babies if you don’t bend the knee to the true Queen.>”

You reach back for your spear and get ready to talk back, but suddenly one Unsullied soldier jumps out of his seat and throws himself on you, making you fall back on the dirt ground harshly.

You let out a groan, but have no time to dwindle in your new pain because he then presses the stick part of his spear against your throat, cutting off your air circulation, and dulling your other senses.

You try to press back, but he’s stronger right now, he’s angry too, adding to his strength. It seems like he's going to best you, but you manage to slip your hand off his spear and instead throw your hand up and stab your fingers in his eye.

The Unsullied soldier doesn't make any noise, but he throws his head back and stays on top of you, adding more weight on your body as he sits down to grab at his wounded eye.

The other Unsullied peeks his head out and notices his injured companion and throws out a curse before he reaches back for his spear. Fuck.

He can’t join this damn fight or you’ll never win. Fuck. Okay.

You look at your side to search for your weapon, but find it too far out of reach. The weapon of the man you just fought is at your feet and he’s sitting on your legs, so you can’t get it. Fuck!

Okay….

Out of desperation to reach your newborn children, you pump yourself with as much fury and adrenaline as you can muster and throw your upper body up to sink your teeth on the soldier's throat. The soldier stiffens, and just as he tries to claw at you, you pull back and yank off a part of his throat with your teeth, causing the other soldier to suddenly stiffen in surprise.

You use that though and push the now dead man off your body to swipe his spear off the floor. You then quickly hurl it at the second soldier’s chest still on the carriage.

Now that they’re both dealt with you push yourself off the ground and stumble towards the carriage. You still hear Greyworm and Jaime fighting ahead, which is impressive that the one handed soldier is holding out so long, but you can’t stop, he told you not to, so you keep ignoring it and climb onto the back that now holds the wooden cradle.

“Rhaenyra. My love,” you mutter out and don’t care about your appearance, or that you’re hurt, you reach them and look in, seeing both of them there, sleeping peacefully as if nothing is happening around them. “I’m here,” you assure them even if they’re sleeping. “I’m here,” you smile. You reach down to pick them up, but just as you do you catch a glimpse of the fight happening ahead, and see Greyworm stab his spear through Jaime’s stomach with a violent blow that knocks the one handed knight right off his feet.

You’re told not to, you’re supposed to just take the twins and leave, but he’s sacrificed so much, he’s been kind and loyal, he’s been a friend surprisingly enough, you can’t help your heart from sinking and your feet from taking you to him bleeding out on the ground.

“Ser Jaime,” you whisper and cradle his face to turn it towards you. “I can still help you. Just…don’t take the blade off.”

The man swallows thickly and shakes his head. “No,” he grunts. “No...Princess,” he mutters. “My time here is done. I…tried to keep my promise now. Just go.”

Tears wells your eyes and you regardlessly press on his wound to stop the blood from trickling down. “No…you have to see your brother. He’ll be waiting. You have to live and…and still watch over me. That’s an order.”

He scoffs and then coughs out blood. “Tell my brother…” he trails off and continues to cough out more blood, darker this time. “Tell him that I love him…that no matter what I will always look out for him.”

You nod even if you don’t want to accept his death.

“And you…” he continues and cups your hand with his gloved one. “It was an honor serving you…Queen. Your mother would be proud…of the women you are…don’t let her down okay? I’m sorry…I couldn’t protect her, or you. I’m sorry.”

You whimper and shake your head. “I forgive you. It’s thanks to you that I found my children. You did good…it was an honor having you as my protector.”

The corner of his lips tug up slightly, causing blood to begin trickling out from the corner of his mouth. His breaths begin to go ragged, and his hand falls off your hand and lands on his sword's handle. He then drifts his eyes to it and then points his eyes behind you.

You’re confused at first, but you blink and peer back, understanding now that he’s pointing at Greyworm. He’s telling you to kill him.

Greyworm was kind to Rhaenar without question, he was kind to you. But he ripped your newborn babies out of your arms and took them, he’s not on your side anymore, he’s just another enemy. A causality, and Daenerys only friend now. It’s a message to her from you.

That makes killing him much easier.

Albeit, just as you’re going to reach over for the sword, Greyworm comes over and pulls his spear out of Jaime’s stomach, causing blood to pour out of the wound and only pushing Jaime closer to death. And fueling your anger.

So just as Greyworm is walking back to the carriage you reach over for Ser Jaime’s Valyrian steel sword and clutch it in your hands.

Now usually you prefer spears, they’re lighter, easier to use, but your spear is too far away and well, this blade is better than Greyworm’s spear. It’s actually a lot lighter than you expected Valyrian steel to be too.

“Why do you mourn for a man who stabbed your grandfather in the back, and chose his own reputation over being loyal to you?” Greyworm spats out.

You exhale through your nose and slowly push up the sword from the ground. “That man was no grandfather of mine,” you counter spitefully. “I’m glad that he got stabbed in the back, he deserved far worse. But perhaps I’ll save that for Daenerys.” You snicker.

Greyworm spins around and growls out of anger, only making you smirk as you meet his gaze with a taunting glare.

“I won’t fight you,” Greyworm quickly tells you without letting his anger get the best of him. “It won’t be a fair fight, and the Queen wants you alive.”

You lose your taunting look, and slowly begin to scowl at the man as you remain on your knees with the swords tip nailed against the ground, and the handle in your hand. The blood that was drying on your lips and chin only made your look more intimidating, but he still doesn’t flinch.

“Then you’re a coward,” you spat back. “It’s fine, it'll make this fight easier.” You breathe out and slowly begin to use the sword's weight to push yourself up to your feet.

Greyworm remains collected and actually throws his spear at your feet. You glance at it and sigh deeply in annoyance before you meet his gaze and kick the spear at him. You then raise your chin and point at him as you shift your feet to get in a battle ready stance.

Before he can once again turn you down you charge at him and swing the sword. Greyworm quickly blocks your attack with his blade and then manages to push you back. He then doesn’t falter or turn away, he swings at your stomach, but you slide back. He then counters with another swing, but you throw your head back and avoid the blade.

You proceed to swing at his legs, but he shuffles back and thrashes his arm to the side, letting you quickly throw your arms up and clash the blade against his. You proceed to meet his gaze and shoot him a smirk before you lift your leg and shove him back. You don’t lose your momentum and use all your strength to swing the blade across his chest.

Greyworm however catches your attempts and tries to block them, but in doing so he fails to clash the blade against yours, causing the Valyrian steel sword to cut his wooden spear in half and the tip to cut his cheek.

You’re shocked by your actions, but can’t help but smirk proudly. Whilst Greyworm touches his cut and looks at the coat of blood that stains his fingers, he then blinks and knits his eyebrows together as he looks up at you in surprise.

“<Lucky you,” you throw at him in high Valyrian as you begin to walk back. “You’ll meet your gods today.>” Once you reach the spot where you had fought the other soldiers, you pick up your spear and throw at his feet. “<Lets end this.>” You sneer and twist your blade around your hand.

A faint smirk appears on Greyworms lips before he picks up the spear and lunges forward and swings down. You quickly jump back to avoid being hit, and then counterattack. Greyworm albeit blocks your action and pushes you back.

“<Your ancestor should be proud,” Greyworm throws out in Valyrian as he spins the spear in his hand. “You’ve learned well. You make a mighty warrior.>

You huff out, and then charge at him. Just as you get close you jump off your feet and throw the sword down. Greyworm nevertheless avoids the blade and quickly counters by lunging the spear at your side.

Luckily you twist your body and miss being hit, and before he can pull back you turn your hand around and capture his handle.

Greyworm’s eyes snap at you in surprise, you shoot him a smirk and try to stab him, but he’s stronger than you now so he manages to yank the spear out of your hold.

And just as he steps back suddenly his body jerks up, and he lets out a groan. You falter and watch him in confusion, however you then see the cause of this sudden halt when you notice Ser Jaime on his knees behind Greyworm, and with Greyworm’s own broken spear stabbed through his own back.

How did Jaime muster the strength to get up?

Who knows, but you’re thankful.

So before Greyworm can react, you use both hands to hold the sword and charge at him. You lift the sword in your hand as you approach him, and the moment you get close enough you open your mouth to let out a mighty battle cry as you swing the sword across Greyworm’s neck. And since the blade is sharp and made out of the toughest steel, the blade cuts clean across, cutting his head right off his shoulders. Ending this battle, and causing Jaime to fall back.

You first make sure no one is approaching before you run to Jaime and cup his cheek. “Thank you, Ser Jaime,” you mumble. “You did well.”

Jaime’s eyes begin to flutter close, and his breath begins to slow down. He musters enough strength to grab your hand and add one more thing. “Thank you...” he trails off and his eyes close, his chest rises once more as he takes his final breath, and then it sinks for the last time.

——

*LATER*

The air wasn’t filled with battle cries anymore, there’s no cries of pain, or metal slinging. There’s no fire brightening up the sky red, there’s no dragons flying either. It’s not quiet or calm, but it seems that the battle had come to an end. Actually the castle people say is cursed doesn’t stand as tall as it once did moments ago, there are towers that are missing, walls are gone and turned to rubble and debris.

Where once stood a haunted mighty castle now remains crushed walls, and smoke.

It’s sort of fascinating, in a weird and creepy way.

“Halt right there!”

You rip your eyes away from the ruined castle and see Ser Brienne, Ser May and Ser Marizelizabeth come out of hiding from behind rubble to point their weapons at you.

“It’s okay—”

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne cuts you off right away and doesn’t hesitate to drop on her knee.

“Queen,” The others mutter and mirror their commander's action.

You bring the carriage to halt and offer them a nod. “At ease.”

However, neither of them rise.

“Forgive me your Grace,” Ser Brienne shares with her eyes on the ground. “I failed to keep you safe, they took you because of my incompetence. I understand if you want to remove me from my rank.”

You slide off the carriage and approach Ser Brienne. “It was not your fault. It was no one’s fault,” you assure her and touch her shoulder. “No one could have known. So please don’t blame yourselves, that’s an order.”

The three of them look at you, and Ser Brienne hesitates, but it was an order so she listens and doesn’t press on the matter, instead she and the others stand up and examine you.

“Ser May,” Ser Brienne orders over her shoulder after she caught the blood on your face and on your gown. “Fetch the maester.”

“Wait,” you call out before she can run off. “While you do fetch Jon too. I have something I need to show him.” You smile, but it falters. “He is fine right?”

Brienne nods. “Worried,” she assures you. “That’s all.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod with a happy grin painted on your face. “Good. Go then.”

Ser May runs off to go as she’s told, letting you now address the problems. “Catch me up,” you direct at the pair of knights as you turn to head to the back of the carriage.

“King Jon,” Ser Brienne doesn’t falter. “He came with an army of men when he heard of your disappearance. While Arya, Sarella, Ser Davos and Lord Royce led the battle on the ground, Jon fought Daenerys in the sky.”

You hum and stop as you reach the doors.

“The battle didn’t last long,” she continues. “We lost some warriors, but they lost more.”

“Good,” you comment.

“It seems Daenerys was injured in battle after her dragon fell from the sky. That’s when the battle on the ground ended because her men retreated. Albeit not before Drogon lay waste on the castle.”

She was injured?

You swallow thickly and find yourself lost between feeling guilt and pride.

“Her dragon was hurt too, badly may I add,” Brienne adds, but you knew that, you saw that as you were chasing after Greyworm—“when they were retreating, King Jon, and your dragon….burned probably a third of her army.”

You blink in surprise and look over at her to share your disbelief. You don’t say anything, you’re just shocked he’d do something like that, especially that Eraxis would dare do something like that without your command.

“Is that all?” You probe and grab the door handles.

Ser Brienne nods, letting you sigh and look at the doors with a faint smile. “Ser Marielizabeth, if you may. May you please ride to the gates of Kings landing and…” you trail off to open the doors and pick up the sack that held Greyworm’s head. “Leave this at the gates for Daenerys,” you continue. “Make sure she gets it and then ride back to Sunspear.”

“Sunspear?” She queries.

You meet her gaze and nod. “Aye. A third of her army is gone, her Master of War is dead, she and her dragon are injured, we can’t return to Winterfell now that we have the advantage. We have to remain close to attack soon and end this war.” You grab the sack and give it to your knight. “Take care, alright?”

She nods and turns away to go get ready, letting you face Ser Brienne with a frown as you see her studying the body covered with a tarp.

“Ser Brienne,” you mutter and grab her hand. “I'm sorry. Ser Jaime….he…He’s passed.”

The tall woman knight drops her head and blinks repeatedly as you know grief and disbelief strikes her heart. She keeps her hand in your grasp and just swallows thickly before meeting your gaze with red eyes as she fought the need to cry.

“It would please me if you took his body and sword to his brother, you can grieve him as you please, and then go to Sunspear with the Hand.”

Brienne shakes her head. “No,” she argues. “I need to stay by your side, protect you. I can’t go, I’ll have someone else go. I can grieve him alone. By your side.”

You draw in a deep breath and hold her gaze for a second as you debate arguing with her. But it is her choice so you sigh and nod. “As you please. Have three Knights of the Queens guard take the body and sword so they can return with Lady Sansa.”

“Y/N?!” Your name is called out as you finish giving Ser Brienne an order, and when you snap your eyes past her body you spot Jon; his face is caked in blood, and his hair is down, he looks exhausted, but he’s a relief to see, he’s the very sun missing from the sky today.

“Jon,” you call out and break away from your spot to run to him.

Said man instantly meets you halfway without a fault and captures you an embrace. “Oh my love,” he whispers. “I was so worried,” he whispers as he holds the back of your head and hugs you tighter.

You laugh softly out of exciment, and pull back to kiss him over the dry blood. He deepens the kiss, and you linger in his taste for a moment before you pull back and grab his chin to study his face for any injuries.

“It’s not my blood,” he assures you and grabs your chin too as he sees the dry blood stained over your lips and chin.

“Not mine,” you mirror.

“Good,” he says and reaches for your belly that hasn’t gone down, but you grab his hand and grin at him. “Come with me. I need to introduce you to a pair of twins.”

Jon’s face quickly twists in confusion, but before he can ask, you pull him to the back of the carriage, and then inside where the cradle is. He’s hesitant to approach, he still looks puzzled, so you beam brighter and reach down to pick them up.

“Jon,” you whisper since Rhaenyra remains asleep, “meet Rhaenyra and your son.” You turn around to show them off, noticing that his eyes are locked on Rhaenyra fast asleep and the boy watching you. He looks surprised, but that slowly falls as the boy begins to complain and squirm.

Jon then approaches you and pulls the sheet down to see their faces.

“They’re okay,” you assure him. “Healthy. They’ve just lived an adventure now. Isn’t that right?” You ask the baby boy. “But you’re here now. With your mother and father.” You peek over at Jon and see that he carries a soft smile that matches his softened eyes that are welled with tears.

“May I hold them?” He asks and meets your gaze.

You giggle and nod. “Of course, my love. Here,” you whisper and carefully hand the twins to him.

Just as you’re going to pull your arms away, Jon stops you. “Wait, I don’t want to drop ‘em. Just—”

“Jon,” you cut him off softly. “It’s okay. You won’t. You won’t.” You very slowly pull your hands away, but keep them close for a second to let him know that he was okay. That they won’t just fall from his hands. “See. It’s okay.”

Jon scoffs, and then looks down at the twins with a lovestruck gaze. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your mother when you were born. I’m sorry. I’m here now though, I’m never letting you leave my sight.” He laughs softly and meets your gaze with tears rolling down his cheeks. “They’re so beautiful. Rhaenrya, she has your hair.”

You nod and then rest your chin on his shoulder as you watch him with awe. “They both have your eyes. They’re beautiful.”

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your forehead. “You did good, my brave girl. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there, I’m sorry you had to do it alone. Forgive me.”

You shake your head, “there’s nothing to forgive, it’s not your fault. They’re here now, alive and healthy, that's all that matters.”

Jon licks his lips to get ready to argue, but then his name and yours is called out. “Jon? Y/N?!”

It’s Arya. Her footsteps race around the carriage, but once she reaches the back and sees Jon holding two bundles she stiffens and gasps.

Jon and you share a happy look before he motions her to come in. She hesitates but then jumps in and meets her niece and nephew.

“Look at them,” she whispers with awe as she reaches her finger for the boy's hand. “Hi. I’m Arya, your—” she cuts herself off and gasps as the baby boy holds her finger. “I’m your aunt,” she continues with a beaming smile. “Your best aunt.”

Jon laughs softly, and then shares a passing look with you before he looks at the twins and parts his lips to whisper. “Arya, meet Rhaenyra and Robb.” He smiles softly.

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Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #jon snow x you #Jon snow fanfic #game of thrones fanfic #got #got fanfiction #daenerys targaryen #Greyworm #tyrion lannister #jaime lannister #ser brienne #sansa stark #arya strak

[damn-stark]

Chapter 11 Some sunny day

Chapter 11 of Sandstorm

A/N- Hope everyone likes it!!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, violence, ANGST, death, talks of pregnancy and THERES ALSO CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*KINGS LANDING. A COUPLE WEEKS LATER*

There’s no one now; it's quiet inside, and even out in the city.

She has no one now, not even the people; they don’t walk the streets with the debris still covering the streets. It’s like an abandoned city with Drogon keeping watch. Albeit she liked to think it’s peaceful. That people were quiet because they were at peace with what she did for them, after all they had nothing to fear anymore.

However, her own peace is disturbed by a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she lets them know and keeps her eyes on the ocean past the city.

The door opens and footsteps walk in, but stop past the door. “My Queen,” she recognizes GreyWorm. “I’ve brought your envoys.”

Daenerys turns to face him and furrows her eyebrows a bit out of curiosity. “Read them to me.” After all she trusted no one else except him now that she locked Tyrion away.

Greyworm clears his throat and without needing to look at the paper he shares the first one. “A Raven came from Meereen, Daario Nahris received the envoy and is now on his way with the Second Sons.”

Daenerys' lips lift to a faint smirk, but all she offers is a nod in comprehension to let him share the next one.

“The next Raven came from the North, Princess Y/N Targaryen has arrived at Winterfell with the entirety of the Dornish army, and she wants to debate peace.”

Daenerys' smile fades, and she finally breaks away from her spot on the balcony to be basked by the darkness that her room is covered in.

“Peace,” Daenerys repeats in a low voice as she brushes her fingers across the wooden desk in her room. “After what she did?” She averts her gaze as she’s filled with the memory of you stopping her as she was raining down fire on the city, she remembers the attacks after, she remembers most of all your smile; your laugh, and all the ways you would make her smile. She remembers all the sweet things, all the comforting hugs, all the family dinners. She remembers being welcomed by you and Rhaenar, she remembers finally being at peace with you, her niece, family.

But with all those nice things she’s also plagued with all the crude things too, most of all she remembers your marriage and the babies you are meant to have, unless…

“Any news on the babies?” Daenerys breaks her silence.

“No, I’m sorry my Queen. All I read is that the Princess has been put on bedrest for some time.” Greyworm breaks the news, making her fall silent again.

If those babies are gone then their can be a chance to salvage what broke between you and her. Albeit there is one factor that can make it worse again, Jon Snow. As long as he’s alive he can produce more heirs….

“Alright,” Daenerys interjects and clasps her hands together. “Tell my niece…” she trails off and meets the man’s gaze. “What is it they’re calling her again?”

“The rising Saint,” he shares.

Daenerys scoffs. “Ah yes, well tell her I agree. Let’s debate peace.”

——

*WINTERFELL*

“He’s gotten bigger hasn't he mother?”

You glance at the orange dragon ascending off the window and smile faintly. “Yes, he has. Perhaps it’s all that food he eats, hm?” You suggest and bounce your eyebrows.

Rhaenar scoffs and peers back over his shoulder. “I cannot stop him from feeding himself now.”

“No,” you agree. “But you can make sure he is feeding on the right things, right?

Rhaenar returns to watch his dragon fly around the room and then interjects. “Yes, of course. Just as you said with Eraxis.” Rather than coming back to his seat by the bed you’re basically tied down to, he wanders off to the table holding the dragon chambers.

When you had first reunited with your son he had shown you the dragon eggs he risked his life to take, the way he got them exactly is a bit hazy considering he was rambling out of fear of what had happened, but he managed to take the dragon eggs from Dragonstone. Just adding more fuel to Daenerys' anger most likely.

“Why don’t you finish reading the book?” You suggest and reach over to the edge of your bed to drag the big thick book towards you.

Rhaenar opens the lid of the blue dragon egg and waits for the steam to clear before he begins to admire it. He’s bored, but he has refused to leave your side since you got here.

“Rhaenar,” you call out.

Yet before he can turn a knock raps on the door, making both of your heads turn.

“Come in,” you say, and right away the door opens and the first person you see is Sarelle, she meets your gaze and shoots you an apologetic look as she walks in. And once you see Jon, Sansa and the other Stark’s, Ser Jaime, and the other lords you know why.

“Princess,” Sansa greets, whilst the others bow their heads.

You sigh and know this won’t be short or pleasant for you so you then look to your son.

“Rhaenar,” you call, “why don’t you go find your aunt make sure she isn’t getting into any trouble.”

Said boy looks around at the crowd that’s forced to meet in your chambers and hesitates because he wants to be a part of this meeting. But you shoot him a pointed look so he covers the chamber backup and waits for Helios to perch back on his shoulder before he leaves. Once the door is closed you face the group gathered around and smile before addressing them.

“How pleasant it is to see all of you.” You clasps your hands over your lap whilst you catch Jon walk over to stand by your bedside. “Have we received word from Daenerys yet?”

The maester shakes his head. “Not yet, Princess.”

You let out a deep breath and nod in comprehension and then glance around all of them with a tightlipped smile. “So who will start first?”

They all look around at each other to wait who would actually step up, everyone with their mouths basically bleeding as they bite their tongue. So as to relieve them of their pain you choose for them and go for who you might have the easiest problem to help with.

“Ser Jaime,” you point out and land your eyes on him. “You’re still here, which as honored as I am, I’m actually quite surprised, I thought you’d be half a world away.”

The knight takes a step forward and meets your gaze to respond. “Well, I probably should be, but well I’m having a hard time saying goodbye. And two, well,” he sighs. “As you may know my brother was imprisoned by the Dragon Queen. I can’t leave without him, nor let him stay there because I know he’d do everything in his power to get me.”

You hum and squint your gaze on him, letting him continue to actually share what he needed to.

“I wanted help to retrieve my brother from the Dragon Queen’s clutches.”

“The Princess cant travel, Ser,” Sansa rebuttals. “Not for some time.”

You swallow thickly and lower your gaze out of shame that you can’t be doing more. And unberthknonwst to you Jon notices your reaction, the feelings that are spread on your face and reaches down to caress your shoulder.

“Yes,” Jaime cuts her off. “But I’m not asking her to come with me. I was hoping I could get some men to help me.”

At the sound of those words you look up at Jon to share a knowing look.

“…I know my way around the castle. I can’t guarantee it will be easy, but I need to get my brother out of there,” Jaime shares his desire, his reason to join everyone in this meeting.

Yet it’s a desire you can’t grant for many reasons. “Ser Jaime,” you interject and let out a deep breath. “As grateful as I am for what you've done, for keeping your promise to me. I cannot give you what you want because unlike you, your brother stayed loyal to his Queen until the end. He did nothing to earn the peoples trust or respect, not like you.” You let him down with an apologetic look. “I am terribly sorry. Truly. All I can grant you is luck and supplies if that’s what you need, but as to the other thing, you may ask yourself for volunteers.”

Jaime averts his gaze and scoffs. “Regardless of what I’ve done, people rather see me die than help.”

“Yes,” Sarella agrees with him. “That much is true.”

You shoot her a pointed glare, and she just shoots him a teasing smirk.

“Well,” you sigh and then flicker your eyes to the Stark sisters. “What are some other concerns?”

Sansa steps forward and shares. “There are some questions as to when you will execute Cersei?”

You hum and share a glance with Jon.

“I think it’s been prolonged long enough,” she adds.

You draw out a deep breath and nod slower before you respond with what you have in mind. “I’m waiting to execute to her.”

Sansa blinks in disbelief and shoots Jon a puzzled look that Jon doesn’t share since it’s something you haven’t told him yet either.

“For what?” Arya cuts in, causing you to drift your eyes to her and see her step forward—“killing her will turn those who still doubt you to your cause.”

“Arya is right,” Sansa agrees. “It’s a first step to completely sparking this war to life.” She argues.

Gods they’re really not going to like this…

“I’m not fighting a war,” you reveal and immediately see all their faces drop. “I’m not sparking anything. Daenerys will want to kill Cersei herself to gain the people’s love, I will let her do it once I get word.” You share a quick glance with Jon before looking at your cousin at his side.

She catches your gaze and gives you an assuring nod that lets you know she trusts you completely.

“You added fuel to that war the moment Daenerys countered your attempts to help save the people,” Sansa argues back with fury. “She almost killed you rather than standing down—”

“She killed thousands of people, your people after the bells rang,” Arya spats back too. “You might’ve not seen the tragedy below but you heard it, you stopped it from furthering. She took that first step against you, against our family, we have to counter and take her off that throne before she chooses to destroy everything and everyone.”

You remain calm even if you want to respond with annoyance to their persistence. “Daenerys lost everyone she knew. Missandei, Visieron, even Rhaegal since he bonded with Jon. Ser Jorah. She let her anger drive her, I can help her. She needs guidance I can provide.”

Sansa scoffs, but Lord Royce interjects instead. “Pardon me my Princess, but there is no saving the Dragon Queen after she attacked her own kin. The people of King's Landing may be horrible—”

Jaime scoffs in agreement at that.

“…but they honor that. You turn and help her then you lose everyone, everything you worked to gain.” He finishes.

As wise as his words are, you remain stubborn. You shake your head and stand your ground. “I will not ignite a war.” You snap back with narrowed glare. “If it’s a war you all want then go ahead, but you will not count on me, Dorne,” you say and gain Sarella’s approval with a nod. “Or my dragon.”

All the people in the room go quiet, they share speechless and upset glances. It seems like neither will talk back, but Sansa does fight back with an icy spirit. “She didn’t only attack you, she attacked your family, the babies, she disregarded all respect she said she had. She chose power rather than standing down to her own kin! She attacked your people! She would’ve killed your son, and you! Given the chance. Will you sit and do nothing! That is your throne, your crown!”

You clench your jaw and narrow your glare deeper. Sansa holds your glare without falter, so you sit up. Jon tries to help you, but you put your hand out to stop him and sit up on your bed yourself to give Sansa what she wants, a fight back.

“Some of us didn't get the pleasure of growing up with our parents. I don’t have the memories of my mother braiding my hair, or giving me warning looks to stop something I’m doing. I don’t have memories of fighting with my mother or my father over stupid things that don’t matter at the end of the day. You know why, you all know why!” You huff out. “I have been fighting a war since my mother and siblings died—no since my father left us….so I’m sorry that all I want now is for my children to grow up with their parents, both of them.” You draw in a deep shaky breath, then breathe out as you drop your head to look at your hands.

You then look over at Jon, and he offers you an assuring look that lets you add on, calmer this time. “Fighting in a war brings no guarantee to Jon’s safety, or mine. I understand everyone’s distrust for Daenerys, but she is Queen now as long as she sits on that Throne, as long as her heart beats. I’m not asking to return to her court, all I want is a pardon so I can just raise my children and live my life with my husband. I’ve lost too much, we all have, I’m not letting her take anything else.”

This time no one argues back, no one steps forward, there’s no passed glances, it’s still, letting you turn to Jaime again.

“If Daenerys grants us the ability to negotiate I can add your brother to the deal. That way you don’t need to risk your life.” You offer him a gentle smile. “Just rest assured, she probably won’t kill him right away, he is still a Lannister, and he might be her chance to get the Westlands to support her.”

Ser Jaime nods hesitantly. “You might be right. I’ll wait then.” He bows his head, letting you look at the others again.

“Now, if there’s nothing more to add, I would like to have a moment with my husband.” You add, causing everyone to leave the room, even your cousin, leaving just Jon and you in the silence of your shared quarters.

Jon breaks away from his spot rather quickly, and you drop your shoulders and draw out a deep exhausted breath. “Ugh,” you groan, “how do Lords and Kings do this all day?” You watch Jon take his cloak off to release weight off his body so he can find some ease in private.

“Well,” he scoffs. “Some Kings don’t actually handle any business.”

You snicker and nod. “I guess you’re right. Did your father handle his business?”

Jon walks over to the table by the window to serve water in a golden cup. “Yes, he did. I wasn’t with him a lot, but when I was he always looked tired, but that’s nothing compared to you,” he points out and turns to walk over to your side of the bed. “Being with child and doing all of this is impressive.” He hands you the cup before he presses his hand on your swollen belly.

You hum softly and watch him with a soft look. “Thank you for coming to me. I mean I could go without going to meetings and handling any business, but thank you for not forgetting about me.”

Jon straightens up and grabs your hand. “You are my wife, we’re partners in this. Besides…you are the princess which does make you higher ranked. It is your duty.”

You shoot him a narrowed glare, and he just smirks before he presses a kiss on your cheek to then press a kiss on your belly.

“How are you feeling? Do you need to sit up more? Or more pillows?” He worries.

You take a sip of water and look out the window. “I could use a walk,” you mumble and set the cup down on the end table beside you whilst you hope to catch a glimpse of Eraxis outside in the skies you wish you can be in, but there’s only blank white skies.

Jon scoffs at your response and follows your line of gaze, when you look back at him you see his smile had faded away and his gaze looked distant and brooding; his mind is churning isn’t it?

“What is it?” You query, even though you know it’s about what was just discussed with everyone else. “Do you think we should march into battle for the throne too?”

Jon blinks and meets your gaze to shake his head. “No. You don’t want it, I don’t want it, it would be an unmotivated battle.” He finishes, making you squint your eyes on him. “And like I’ve said before I trust you, if you don’t want to counter back against Daenerys then we don’t—”

“Then?” You cut him off.

Jon shifts around to face you better, and you stay still since you can’t move. “It’s about your decision about Cersei,” he shares. “In other kingdoms it’s different, every family has different values, but…my father always followed one value, ‘The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.’ You gave the sentence, you took her, it should be you.”

You blink repeatedly and drop your gaze to your hands as you take in his words. “What about Daenerys?” You ask softly in an unsure tone of voice.

Jon sighs. “There are no sides to killing the Queen. Besides Daenerys already has the capitol, she already burned the city, killing Cersei won’t gain their respect or their trust.”

He is right….and if his father did say those words then Winterfell respects them too. And the Lannister’s have hurt your family just as they've hurt the Stark’s, it has to be here, because regardless if you want the throne or not, you still are Jon’s wife, you still need their respect. Killing Cersei will gain that.

“Alright,” you give in and meet Jon’s dark gaze. “I’ll do it. On the morrow. After breakfast.”

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Door hinges creak, and what was once covered in darkness is invaded by the swaying torch light in your hand.

“Good morning,” you greet and push your hand further in the small room to try and see the prisoner kept inside, but she’s not on her bed nor by the desk. Actually her plate is untouched, her bed is a mess, the small bookshelf is emptied out of all the books that once decorated it, and the curtains are drawn to cover the windows and bring that lurking darkness.

She’s being difficult, you’ve heard from Sansa that Cersei has protested against eating and kept herself living like a hermit.

Thus why you let out a deep sigh and look back at Jon to pass a quick glance that lets him know to move your moving chair futher in the room. And that’s when you finally see her balled in the corner behind the door, with the books that are meant to decorate the shelf all over the ground.

Cersei doesn’t even bother to look up at you, nor does she move, she keeps her eyes trained on the ground. You don’t bother to say anything else right away either, you’re too taken back by her appearance to speak. After all it’s the first time you’ve seen her with her hair messy and unbrushed, with her face dirty because she’s refused to let anyone touch her, and in dirty clothes she’s refused to take off since she was taken.

“Sansa wanted you to be taken out in drags,” you interject, but still gain nothing. “But I convinced her otherwise.” You throw her a dress you picked out for her own execution. “Be nice to the handmaidens, they are here to make you look presentable. You were a Queen once afterall.” You look her up and down and sigh before Jon begins to pull you out in the wheelchair they’ve forced you to be on so you wouldn’t move so much.

It’s too much for you considering it’s just your upper body that got hurt, but if it makes Jon happy then whatever. You’ll get pushed around until you heal.

However! The one thing that is distasteful and makes this dreadful is the stares. Regardless if they’re out of disbelief over seeing you out. Then again you do always receive weird stares from the people, even if it’s been some time now since you’ve been here.

Yet there is one stare that you’ll never grow tired of, this one isn’t aimed at you but at the majestic dragons that now roam Winterfell. First, the people you pass by as Jon pushes you towards the field past the castle gates spot Helios flying towards you. He’s small but the people fear him now because he can fly on his own.

“Hello, little sun,” you greet the orange dragon as he now begins to fly by you. “Where’s Rhaenar?” You ask it before you look back and spot your boy running over just as you predicted.

“Mother! Jon!” Rhaenar greets.

“Prince,” Jon greets him back with a smile, whilst you watch him as he falls at your other side and grabs onto one of your wheelchairs armrest to walk at your pace. “Where have you been?” Jon asks.

“I was on a tower,” Rhaenar reveals between pants. “There’s people from the nearby towns that are arriving to see the execution.”

You nod. “Cersei Lannister did a lot of harm to the Kingdoms, her family also did a lot of harm to the Starks—”

“Yes,” Rhaenar cuts you off. “I know. People want justice.”

You hum in agreement and glance around in search of your sisters, but they’re not around. “<Where are your aunts?>” You ask in Valyrian so Jon can learn.

Rhaenar glances over at Jon and shoots him a smirk before responding in the same language. “<Waiting with Sansa and Arya already. They said they wanted a good view.>”

You peer over your shoulder and catch Jon’s perplexed look since Rhaenar spoke too fast for him to fully comprehend everything. And yet before either Rhaenar or you could explain anything, a high pitched cry breaks from the sky. You quickly look up and spot white scales gleaming as they descend from the sky slowly; Eraxis. Poor injured Eraxis.

The people around begin to quicken their pace, others scatter to find shelter as if she would attack, but you beam at her as she now chooses to hover above you as best as she can. And then not seconds later a dark shadow casts over the grounds before the green beauty that is Rhaegal quietly flies past.

“I’m thinking we might be the late ones,” Jon comments whilst he watches his dragon land on the field past the gates.

You scoff. “Or everyone else is early.”

Jon chuckles. “Or that.”

You smile faintly, but that slowly fades as you now get rolled past the gate and see the crowd already gathered around the wooden stake that was built just for Cersei.

“Princess.”

“There she is, The Rising Saint…”

As far as alias goes you’ve heard worse, but this name the people are calling you now after the battle at Kingslanding—or as the people are calling it “The dance of the dragons”, is unnecessary. You’re no saint, not close, just because some soldiers saw you push yourself off the shore as Eraxis was extending her wings behind you means nothing at all. In fact you lost that battle.

“Princess.”

You offer the people who part away to make a path for you a small smile.

“Sister!” Elia exclaims when she spots you, and parts away from Jaime’s side to stride over to you. “There you are, I thought you wouldn't come.”

“It's my duty,” you say and glance past her shoulder. “Please don’t tell me you were pestering the poor Knight. Need I remind he's only enough to be your father.”

Elia scoffs. “We were just talking. Nothing bad.” She smirks. “But if he wanted to then…” she trails off and snickers.

“Gods,” you grumble.

“Then what?” Rhaenar presses innocently, only making Elia chuckle and walk off to be by Sarella now—“what does she mean mother? Jon?”

You peer back at Jon to share an awkward look before you meet your son's curious gaze and assure him. “I’ll tell you later, okay? Now is not the right time.”

Rhaenar sighs deeply and nods. “Alright, but you promise? You say that but you forget sometimes.”

You roll your eyes playfully and assure him. “I will. But if I forget remind me. After all, once I’m back in my chambers I have nothing but time,” you complain.

“Well,” Jon cuts in as he now begins to turn you around so can face the stake. “When you finally can be on your feet, don't come complain’ that you want to be in bed all day.”

“I won’t,” you counter knowing well that you’re lying because you will complain.

Jon scoffs softly and leaves at that now that you’ve joined his family, and Jaime’s side.

“Ser Jaime,” you direct at him now as you watch Eraxis circle the area to land beside Rhaegal. “I’m surprised you’re here. I didn’t think you had the stomach to watch this.”

Jaime unfurls a deep sigh from his nose. “I have to be here. It’s my responsibility.”

You hum softly and blink to steal a quick glimpse; noticing his frown he was trying not to show, as well as that somber look that flickered in his colored eyes. You then glance at Sansa to direct your next word to her and notice the opposite, there isn’t a smirk on her lips, but there is a ghost of one playing there on the corner of her lips. Her eyes are shooting off sparks compared to the dull look in Jaime’s.

Then again you can’t blame her excitement.

“Are you ready?” You ask Sansa.

Said girl glances down at you and nods. “More than you know. If only I could be the one to say the words.”

You return your gaze back to your dragon and catch Rhaegal…tending to her? You can’t be sure you’ve never seen it be done, but he was letting her nuzzle against him.

“You can speak,” you tell her.

Sansa holds your gaze and offers you a stiff agreeing nod. And just as she agrees, commotion amongst the crowd begins to rise; demeaning words begin to be shouted, boos are thrown out, and no one leaves space to see but you know that the guards were bringing Cersei out now.

“Can you get me a bit closer,” you tell Jon.

Without hesitation Jon pushes you a bit past the row you were standing in to wait for Cersei there. You then proceed to look back at Rhaenar as the space beside you is empty. You don’t tell him anything but you do motion the spot beside you with the movement of your eyes.

The boy hesitates, he doesn’t want to be so close when the dragons breathe out their fire on Cersei, he’s frightened, but he is a Prince, he needs to witness matters such as these, as distasteful as they may be.

Thus he slowly approaches and stands beside you just as the guards finally push Cersei out of the crowd, and finally take her up to the stake.

Once she’s tied up Sansa walks over to speak. “Cersei Lannister, I’ve been thinking of this since day the moment I knew who you really were, but now that I’m here I can no longer express the pain you and your terrible son put me through.” She exhales and stops in front of the stake to look up to meet Cersei’s burning glare. “I just hope you remember that gods have no mercy.” She lifts her chin and finally that smirk that had been playing on her lips spreads to a malicious one. “I hope you feel every second of your flesh and skin melting upon your bones as the dragons bathe you in their fire.”

Jon steps over to stand by you, and you both now share a quick shocked glance before you now interject. “I wish there can be words I could say, but I can’t muster a single word from my heart that doesn’t just spew with venom. Thus why, I now say this with pride, Queen Cersei Lannister, first of her name, I Princess y/n Targaryen-Martell sentence you to death on the charges of the deaths of Margaery Tyrell, Loras Tyrell, regicide, mass murder, treason, Arson, abuse of power against the crown, Conspiracy and Usurpation. What are your last words?”

Finally Cersei breaks her glare away from you to look at her lover/brother Jaime Lannister. Her look doesn’t change to sadness to plead for her life, she just shoots him the same glare before she then looks upon all the people. “I hope you all burn in all seven hells! I hope Daenerys burns you all to ash! You will all burn!”

The crowd begins to shout and throw stuff at her, so you lift your chin and have Eraxis cut everyone off with a mighty roar. When they all go quiet and back away from the stake, you look back at Sansa.

Now without hesitation her and Arya walk to the stake with lit torches in their hands that they put under the pyre, they then turn and now stand beside you to watch the flames eat away at the wood below the platform.

All that’s left now is you, so without a moment to spare you draw in a small breath, and then exhale. “Dracarys!” You command out.

Rhaegal steps back, and Eraxis pulls her head back before they both breathe in deeply and then open their mouths to breathe out bright, fiery flames that engulf Cersei and the stake she stands against within seconds.

The Queen resists at first, but when her skin and flesh begins to melt she cries out, filling the bitter air with her pained cries one second, and the next…nothing but silence again. Now all that stood was the still lively flames that ate her body and the wood.

“My Princess,” a quiet voice cuts in by your ear. “My Lord. A Raven came from Queen Daenerys.”

You drift your eyes away from the red-orange flames to look at the Maester by your side. “Call for a meeting at the hall then,” you inform him. “I’ll go there now to read what she has to say.”

——

*LATER*

“You ask for forgiveness after the act of betrayal against me, I will give it to you. I hope you, your new family and all the Kingdoms that are loyal to you remember my mercy…

You sigh with relief and keep on reading the words Daenerys had so elegantly written on the paper.

“Come to King’s Landing and bend the knee. Swear fealty to me and your eldest son Prince Rhaenar will still have his title as heir, you will have a place in my court and in my castle. However, know that when you and your husband bend the knee, you cannot pursue your children’s claim for The North, Dorne, or the crown. The Warden or Wardeness of the North will not seek independence. It is then that you will have your peace. And if any other Lords who are at your beck and call won’t bend the knee, then warn them of my wrath that will await them, tell them that you won’t be there to save them after you bend the knee.” You finish reading and slowly lower the paper and lift your gaze to look at the Lords, and Ladies gathered around the table.

And there’s one specific Lady who glares diggers into you.

“You will have your children be cup bearers and hold banners for the rest of your life?” Sansa argues as expected. “Jon you can’t possibly want that?! You cannot bend the knee to her again. She betrayed you, she betrayed her kin. She betrayed her people and all of Westeros.”

You don’t counter, instead you look up at Jon and wait for his response with no glare to threaten him to back you up, with no unspoken words shared between your eyes, you let him speak his mind. And he knows it.

“It’s not ideal? no, but at least I will still have them. Throwing ourselves into a war risks their lives,” Jon counters his sister. “She would kill them if we went against her if it meant she had no competition to her throne. Or she would kill y/n and me,” his voice begins to rise with anger, and his eyes begin to narrow. “And it’s just as y/n said, I want my children to have their parents, I want to watch them grow up, I want to be their father.” He draws out a deep breath and tries to calm down.

“I also will not risk having my own people have their homes and land burnt down, going against Daenerys guarantees a destructive war. I will not see anymore children burnt.” He shakes his head. “I will not see anyone else burnt to ash. I will go to Kings Landing in Princess y/n’s stead.” He looks down at you to meet your gaze, and you immediately offer him a thankful smile.

“Right now the princess can’t travel, so I will go in her place.” He nods and presses his hands against the tabletop to then look back at everyone around the table. “I can’t ask all the other Lords to do the same, if it’s a war you want you are welcome to it, but we can’t give into our pride.” He sighs. “So if it’s alright with the Princess I will travel as soon as on the morrow when the sun rises.” He then looks back at you to seek your permission.

Before you give him your confirmation you look only to one person, Sarella, your sister.

“Dorne will be upset that we won’t go to war,” she says, but we will follow you,” she assures you.

You draw out a small relieved breath and then blink to meet Jon’s waiting gaze. “Go. Bend the knee for us.”

Jon offers you a comprehensive nod, and you smile at him softly whilst you grab his hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

“If it is what you want Princess,” Lord Royce interjects, pulling your attention to him standing beside the table. “I will bend the knee as well.”

“As will the Reach,” a representative for the new Warden of the South adds too.

That’s the South and the East Kingdoms, Dorne will also follow, now all that’s left is Sansa and the North. Knowing that, all eyes fall to Sansa to seek her answer. And she meets Arya’s gaze to share a speechless conversation before her glare turns to pierce into Jon and you.

“If Jon wants then we will follow too.” She says stiffly.

Thank the gods.

“Good,” you breathe out with relief. “Then Jon will travel to Kings Landing at his convenience and bend the knee for me.”

There’s silence, it’s full of tension but everything is dealt with so they can sit in their anger and pride as much as they want.

“Mother,” a young voice cuts in, making you look at Rhaenar standing at your right side. “If it is okay with you may I go with Jon to King's Landing to bend the knee as well?”

He always wants to go to battles, he also wants to be involved and he hardly can. You don’t quite like the idea of him leaving your side with everything so tense, but, well, Daenerys won’t harm him and it might do some good if he goes. She might be less hostile.

“All right,” you agree. “You may go.”

Right away Rhaenar shoots you a proud grin that does make your heart swell.

“Good,” Jon then interjects. “With that resolved. Ser Davos, Rhaenar and a handful of some trusted men, and I will travel to King's Landing on a ship. Going on dragonback will probably just rise tension we want to avoid.”

“Yes,” you agree. “That’s true, good. Now does anyone else have anything to add?” You glance at everyone gathered, and no one thankfully interjects. Now the room is finally dispersed except for Sansa, Jon, rhaenar and you.

“I will ask one more time,” Sansa breaks the silence whilst she walks over to you. “As your goodsister, as your sister…” she pauses and gets close to you to take your hands in hers. “Is this really what you want? She may be the last part of your family you have left, but push that aside for now and tell me if bending the knee is what you want.”

You blink repeatedly as you draw in a deep breath and slide one hand over hers to respond softly. “Pushing that aside doesn’t change my answer if it gives me peace. I don’t care for titles, not anymore. If I could have a piece of land here, beyond the wall, or in Dorne by the glimmering sea where I can watch my children grow, where I can teach them how to further connect with their dragons, where I can fly in the sky and feel the wind in my face, feel the clouds on my fingertips, where I can see Jon drop his shoulders and spread that charming grin of his, then yes,” you nod and smile. “I’ve lost too much, I can’t lose anymore. So yes Sansa I’m sure. I hope you can find that too. And you will on your own time.” You offer her a soft smile and look back at Jon to signal him to roll you back to your quarters since…well this has been a strain filled day.

Thus without adding a word Jon pulls you back, letting you drop Sansa’s hands and face Rhaenar now as he skips over to walk by your side. Once your back is turned to her all you feel is her stare until the door closes behind you.

——

Being vulnerable with Jon was something you could always be. It’s something the both of you never were scared of being. It’s something that not a lot of couples in this world get to be, you count yourself lucky that you can have someone in your life who doesn’t make you keep things in and pile up. You’re lucky to have him.

“I’m scared,” you admit quietly as you trace the long wound on his chest. “I…I can’t trust her. Not anymore.”

Jon sighs. “Nor can I,” he admits as well. “The truth is that we never can, not after what happened.”

You swallow thickly. “But if I can’t trust her then what does that mean for the people that follow us. I…I’m risking their lives aren’t I?”

Jon’s arms wrap tighter around you as he stays quiet for a moment that makes your worry heighten. “I think we shouldn’t truly trust certain people completely, I think always being at least somewhat cautious is okay. Otherwise you’re blinded.”

There’s many examples to contradict his saying, there’s many examples to prove him right, especially when it comes to Kings and Queens. But you want him to be wrong about her badly.

Albeit you know he isn’t wrong.

“I suppose you’re right,” you agree quietly and then carefully push yourself off his chest to face him. “You’re so wise. How did you get to be so?”

He begins to smirk. “Livin’.” He quips.

You snicker and then mock him. “Livin’.”

He playfully rolls his eyes and pulls you back to his chest. “By the time I come back you’ll be bigger.”

You feign a frown. “What do you mean by that?” You mess with him. “Are you calling me—”

“No, you know what I mean, your belly. The babies,” he quickly tries to correct himself, making you burst out laughing.

“I know,” you let him know, causing Jon to scoff and pull his arm off your shoulders. “No,” you whine and nuzzle your head against his neck. “You’ll be gone for 2 or three months because you won’t go on dragonback. Let me bask in your warmth for a while longer.”

You can basically picture his smile as he wraps his arm back around you. “I’ll come back to you as quickly as I can,” he assures you.

You smile softly and press a kiss on his chest. “You better. I can’t part from you for too long. What if someone takes you from me?”

Jon scoffs in amusement. “Who’d do that?”

You shrug. “Sirens out in the depths of the water.”

“Sirens?” He teases.

You nod. “They’re real,” you counter quickly. “They trap pirates and sailors with their hypnotizing song. My uncle said he saw one, and I’ve read all about them.”

“They’re just tales,” Jon says. “They aren’t real.”

You scoff. “Yeah you’d know because you’re such an experienced sailor. Giants are real, why shouldn’t sirens be?”

Jon parts his lips but can’t argue back, so you giggle and grow cocky. “Exactly,” you quip and then lift your head to show him your smile before you lean in and steal a kiss from his pink lips. You feel his faint smile, and his hands on your cheeks. You know he’d flip you around if it wasn’t for your wounds on your shoulder, so instead he leans in and deepens the sweet kiss. He savors your taste to remember what your lips feel like when he misses them out at sea, just as you’ll miss him when you’re laying in bed here watching Eraxis fly by without you riding her.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips.

Jon’s gaze softens and he caresses your cheek as he says it back. “I love you too. I’ll come back to you, and the baby’s.”

You offer him a sweet smile and press your forehead against his one more time, before you pull away and let him climb off bed before you make him stay. And since you can’t move you have to watch him—which isn’t the problem, you like it, you smile, but you do wish you could move.

Nevertheless, once he is done he presses a kiss on your belly and then steals one last passionate kiss from you.

“I’ll miss you,” you tell him.

Jon's smile turns timid. “I’ll miss you too.”

Before he can pull away from the bed you grab his arm to not let him move. “You take care of Rhaenar, alright? Take care of him.”

Jon holds your gaze and nods. “Of course I will. Don’t worry.”

You sigh with relief and then steal one last kiss before letting him go.

“Take care,” you throw out as he walks away.

“You too!” He shouts back, and with a smirk he adds, “Sansa will keep an eye out. Arya will too.”

You feign a grin since having Arya look out for you is the worst since she’s so sneaky and even more pestering.

“Great,” you mutter, making Jon chuckle whilst he opens the door. And when the door is pushed open he comes to a halt, you think he’s going to come back, but instead he moves to the side and reveals your son.

You beam at him. “I thought you wouldn't come say goodbye.”

Rhaenar runs past Jon to reach your side with his trust worthy companion flying in after him. “I’ve come to say goodbye mother,” he says and grabs your hand since he’s too scared he’ll hurt you with an embrace. “I won’t be gone long but still.”

You caress his chin and shoot him a smile. “No, but when you come back I will change. I’ll be big, I’ll be unrecognizable.”

Rhaenar giggles. “Don’t be silly, mother. You won’t be different at all.”

Your smile softens. “No. You’re right. Now go before I change my mind and make you stay.”

Rhaenar holds your hands for a longer moment, and you caress his cheek once more before you pull your hand away before you actually change your mind. “Be careful alright? When you get to the city, stay with Jon, and don’t wander.” You warn him.

Rhaenar rolls his eyes but can’t help his smile. “Alright. Alright. Goodbye, mother.” He says and begins to step back.

You shoot him a small wave and a soft smile. “Bye my sweet boy. And you,” you point to his orange dragon. “Watch him.”

The dragon blinks and then turns to fly after Rhaenar as he runs out of the room, letting Jon poke his head inside one last time. “Bye, my love,” Jon says to you once more.

You shoot him a smirk and wave. “Bye, my love.” You watch him close the door and leave the room lonely now. You sit still and hold your breath to listen to their receding footsteps until you can’t hear the echo of the faint thumps.

However, as you breathe out and sink lower down in your bed to try and sleep some more, the sound flapping wings fills the room. When you look out the balcony door you see half of Eraxis’s face, you spot her bright blazing brown eye, and her beautiful snout gleaming by the light beams breaking out of the sky.

She whines softly as she senses the sadness in your heart after seeing your son and your husband leave.

“Yes,” you tell her. “I do have you. But,” you sigh. “I want you to do something for me. Take Rhaegal and follow them.” You give her a command. “Be discreet as you usually are. And only show yourself if they are in danger. Watch them from the skies, okay my sweet girl?”

Eraxis watches you for a second before she blinks and flaps her wings to ascend to the sky. Due to how this room is facing you don’t see her get lost in the clouds, you just hear her wings flapping in the distance until there’s only silence.

——

*2 WEEKS LATER. RHAENAR.*

“Tell me again what this does,” the old Onion Knight points to a part of the boat.

Rhaenar stares long and hard, jumbles of words come to mind, but he can’t place a name to the specific part. “I…I don’t know, sorry.”

Ser Davos sighs and then opens his mouth to reveal the name, but Rhaenar cuts him off.

“Why is it that I have to learn these things? Once I’m King, Helios will be big enough to ride, I won’t need to sail a boat.”

Ser Davos scoffs and turns with his hands clasped behind him. “That’s what you think, but a good King must know many things. What if your dragon dies and you’re at war? One that requires the use of your fleet? Hm? People respect a leader if they see you putting your life on the line amongst them.”

Rhaenar lips pulls to a faint smile and his gaze travels to Jon across the deck talking to some men. “Like how the Free Folk admire Jon?”

Ser Davos glances at Jon as well and nods. “Aye. Like him. Would you want to be like Jon or like the boy King Joffrey?”

Rhaenar scoffs. “Like Jon of course.”

Ser Davos hums and nods. “Aye so lets go over the stuff again and then you can go off and read your books.”

Rhaenar skips off to a part of the boat he does remember and wants to name a part he does know to make Ser Davos proud, but then the sound of man shouting out from the look out above cuts him off.

“Danger ahead! Unmarked ship incoming!”

Rhaenar snaps his head to the front and sees a large approaching ship the distance. It has no House flag, actually it has no flags at all, it’s unmarked, and now that Ser Davos has taught him stuff about ships, pirates and sailors, he knows that this boat isn’t friendly.

Yet he doesn’t want to back down and hide.

“How can I help?” He asks and feels Helios perch up on his shoulder.

Ser Davos quickly meets his gaze and shakes his head. “No you may not help at this moment. Guards take the young Prince to his cabin and guard him with your lives.”

Rhaenar’s guards agree and march to him, albeit the boy pulls away and looks out for Jon. “Jon! I want to help!”

Said man snaps his head to the boy from where he stands on deck, and then rushes over to him. “Rhaenar you will stay in your cabin until we’ve resolved this alright? With luck we will just pay or trade what we have and move on, but regardless you go to your cabin, be ready for anything and don’t come out unless there’s imminent danger or until I go fetch you, you heard me?”

Rhaenar scowls in protest, so Jon grabs his shoulders and insists with concern.

“Do you understand me? Take Helios with you. And stay in your chambers. Now!”

Rhaenar nods and then pulls away to do as he was told since if he didn’t he’d be dragged away regardless. Even if he knew how to fight like any grown man.

However, as time passed he couldn’t pick up the sound of other additional voices that could come from the pirates incoming. No, he only heard the breathing of his dragon, and the muffled shouts from his crew and nothing else.

And yet what he waited to hear doesn’t come yet, no new voices cut in, instead suddenly something loud crashes in the ship, causing it to shake and spiking the boy's heartbeat.

He jumps to his feet and tries to peek out the small circle window, but he sees only water—Damned low windows!

So once again he’s left only to listen in. And now new voices he had yet to hear join the ship, ruff voices that are followed by cries of pain from others. It frightens him a bit, but Rhaenar tries to remain calm and puts all his faith in Jon; he will solve this, the boy tells himself.

He keeps telling himself that as the ship keeps on shaking with what it gets hit with, he listens to the battle rage on above, and even out in the hall outside his room. He hugs Helios to comfort himself since the dragon is ready to attack what may come, and keeps telling himself that Jon and the other brave soldiers above will handle this.

When the fight now sounds outside his door he jumps off his bed and snatches his spear from the corner of his room. He then returns to stand by his bed and grips onto his spear, he shifts his feet to a battle ready stance, and listens to the commotion in case someone comes in.

As time passes he narrows his gaze and Helios hovers above him ready to fight too. He still hopes Jon will come, he holds onto that hope as the doorknob begins to jingle and then the door bursts open.

When he sees that the man that barged in isn’t Jon, or his Dornish guards, or any Northerner, Rhaenar still clings onto hope that Jon will handle this.

“Helios,” the boy grimaces with his eyes piercing on the pirate. “Dracarys.”

The dragon opens his mouth and gets ready to shoot out fire, but just before he can, the man slams the door shut, causing Helios to instead take back his flames and close his jaw. Rhaenar blinks in confusion and waits there for a second with his spear still in hand, he strains his ear and hears stuff scrape against the wooden floor, and only one pair of feet.

What’s the man doing? He thinks to himself and lowers his weapon to cautiously approach his door. He reaches for the doorknob and just before he can touch the cool metal, something made of glass breaks in front of his door.

“What?” Rhaenar mumbles and slaps his hand on the doorknob to push the door open, however as he pushes the door only opens an inch before it hits against something heavy. He tries again and again and comes to the same outcome, nothing.

He tries to listen for the pirate, but now he doesn’t hear footsteps, he lost track of him when he was banging the door against what’s blocking it. He does, however, find something else in that pirates place, the strong smell of smoke, and the sound of flames eating away at the wood blocking the door.

Now that fear heightens tenfold, it turns to terror that makes him panic and try harder to open the damn door. “Someone!” He yells out for his guards. “Jon!” He cries out for the man he still hopes will come.

Helios senses Rhaenar’s desperation and terror and cries out too, he cries loud and with a high pitched tone. But nothing.

The fire only grows, letting Rhaenar see its bright glow as it peeks through the gap under the door. He tries to open the door again but now the knob burns as the flames begin to eat away at that, causing Rhaenar to hiss in pain and step back.

“Jon!” He bellows out again. “Jon!”

The dragon also cries out, but again, nothing. Not even footsteps in the hall. He just hears clashes of metal slamming together violently above.

Smoke soon thereafter begins to crawl inside the room, bringing tears to Rhaenar’s eyes both from its intensity, and fear that now paralyzes him. “Jon!” He sobs out and keeps stepping back further into the room as the flames now find a way inside his room. “Jon!”

He can’t even try and escape out of the window since it’s too small—

But Helios can. So before the fire can increase, Rhaenar jumps on his bed and quickly opens the window. “Go Helios, find Jon!” He tells his orange dragon. “Find him and bring him here!”

The dragon perches on the window and looks back at the boy, he meets Rhaenar’s fearful gaze and hesitates.

“Go, Helios!” Rhaenar insists. “Go. We’ll see one another again. Get Jon!”

Helios looks ahead and then flies off to do what Rhaenar asks of him whilst the flames only enrage.

——

*A COUPLE WEEKS LATER. WINTERFELL.*

The fresh air from the outside felt a lot fresher, crisp, and more chilly but it doesn’t feel stiff like it does in the room.

God's how much you’ve missed being on your feet! Now all you need is the sun, but here in Winterfell during the winter the sun is timid, it likes to hide most of the day and only likes to tease with glimpses of its rays.

“I want to go back to Sunspear,” you tell Sarella as you both see Elia below training on her horse. “I want to feel the sun and pick oranges and lemons.”

Sarella sighs and leans back on her heels. “Wouldn’t that be a delight? Maybe once the babes are born we can go visit.”

You look over at her as you clasps your hands over the stone railing. “You’re not staying home?”

Sarella shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe. Or I might go back to the Citadel.”

A playful smile tugs on your lips. “Ah, will you be the ever so mysterious Alleras again?”

Sarella snickers and nods. “I have yet to be revealed so yes.”

You nod. “That’s good.” You sigh and smile. “Maybe when my family and I travel beyond the wall I’ll send you a Raven so you can come along, would you like that?”

Sarella snaps her head to the side to look at you. “Yes!” She exclaims. “I’d love that! Father went to the wall, I’d love to go too.”

You hum in content and nod whilst you look past the castle gates as you spot distant figures approaching the castle. “I’ll keep you in mind then.”

The guards spot the approaching figures and sound the horn. “Riders!” They announce.

You stand on the tip of your toes and squint your gaze to try and identify what it might be, albeit it does take a while since they are far. But when they get close you see that there’s about five people on horses, and in the middle there’s a horse pulling a carriage.

Must be someone important then! There’s some much needed excitement, things have been so dreadful lately since Jon, Eraxis and Rhaenar are gone, and you could do nothing but lay in bed and let your body heal.

However, once the riders get close you identify two riders, it’s Jon and Ser Davos. And Rhaenar isn’t amongst any of the other riders—perhaps he’s in the carriage?

Regardless, they’re not meant to come home yet, they’re either supposed to be barely arriving at Kings Landing, or still at sea depending how the water is. It’s far too early—unless they decided to take the dragons instead.

“It’s Jon,” you point out to Sarella with a half smile since you don’t know whether to be worried or excited.

“Open the gates!” The guards shout.

You push yourself back from the railing and regardless of your curiosity a happy grin tugs on your face over the fact that your husband and son are back.

“I shall go greet them!” You announce and turn. However, as you do you come to an immediate stop as you hear the thundering sound of wings flapping from the sky, when you look up, only seconds later do both dragons appear in the sky above you. And actually Eraxis chooses to depart from Rhaegal and lands on the tower above the balcony you stand on.

“My beautiful girl,” you greet her.

Eraxis lowers her head to be as close as she can to you. She then growls softly and lets out a huff of air through her nose.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask her and begin to caress her snout. “How are my boys? Huh? Did you protect them well?”

Eraxis whines and turns her head so you'd meet her eye, and that’s when you notice that it’s gleaming with an unshed tear.

“What is it?” You ask now with concern.

And of course she doesn’t answer so you sigh deeply and press your forehead against her to mutter, “I’m going to greet Jon and Rhaenar, okay? Go rest, I’ll see you later.” You pull back and quickly walk inside the castle, catching the sound of Eraxis flying away.

“I never thought dragons could cry,” Sarella points out. “It was quite a sight.”

You hum softly as a response as you’re stuck in thought, and slowly grow more concerned over the men’s early return because you didn’t sense joy in Eraxis, no, her whine wasn’t high, it was soft, long. It was…sad. Why would she be sad?

You swallow thickly and quicken your pace as best as you can, Sarella catches up and matches your pace as you begin to dash down the halls.

Yet before you can reach that last hall that leads to the outside door, you’re blocked off by Arya.

“Where do you think you’re doing?” She quips.

Great, just what you need, a pestering Stark. Yes, they’re worried, it’s sweet! But not right now.

“Jon, and Rhaenar got home,” you tell her, “I’m going to greet them.”

Arya narrows her gaze. “You can greet them from your chambers. Go. You know me I won't move. You just have one more week of bedrest, come on.”

You groan and listen only because she frightens you slightly, and she’d probably use force to take you back to your room. So to avoid that you drag your feet back to your chambers like if you were some scolded child.

“I’m a Princess, you know,” you remind her as you begin to approach your quarters. “I’m higher ranked than you.”

“Aye,” she agrees. “But you’re still on bed rest, you are carrying my nieces, and I truly don’t care.” She scoffs, and when you peer back you catch a smug smirk.

You roll your eyes, but still walk into your quarters and wait with Sarella. You wait and wait. Not much time passes, but it seems like it’s been hours. Eventually, Arya returns to the room, but she only pokes her head in and pulls Sarella out of the room, leaving you alone to wait. Weird.

Your sister takes some time, so eventually your curiosity gets the best of you and you stand up off your bed to slowly creep towards the door. However, footsteps begin to echo from the hall, they approach this room, so you step back towards the bed and wait with your hands behind your back to fiddle with the rings on your fingers.

When the door opens, Jon steps inside.

You push your worry aside and beam at him before you run over to him to throw your arms around him. “Jon!” You greet and inhale, catching a whiff of smoke on his cloak.

“My love,” he whispers, “what are you doing up?” He pulls back and cups your cheeks with a smile that you right away know is feigned. Besides, when you meet his gaze you notice his eyes are gleaming with tears, his eyebrows are low and pulled together, the corners of his lips are also trembling.

“What’s wrong?” You probe and search behind him for Rhaenar. “Where’s Rhaenar?”

Immediately Jon’s lips drop that feigned smile and his eyes lower. His hands slide down to your shoulders, and a shaky sigh escapes his lips. Now that worry you had pushed back rushes back tenfold, and your heart begins to pound slow but hard.

“What is it?” You press.

Jon swallows thickly and pushes the doors closed behind him before he slowly walks you to sit on the edge of the bed. You don’t insist, you wait this time.

“Y/N, my love,” he says and finally meets your gaze with cloudy eyes. “While we were out at sea…” he pauses and exhales deeply. “We were ambushed, they hit our ship with a cannon before they attacked…we tried, we fought hard, but there were losses due to a fire…Rhaenar didn’t make it...”

His lips kept moving as he kept speaking, but nothing else registers beyond those four tragic words. You couldn’t even hear the sound of your heart as it begins to pound within your chest, or the blood as it pumps in your veins, it’s utterly quiet as you take in what he said.

Rhaenar…your son. Your only son…didn’t…make it? He’s gone?

No. No. No. No….no…

He’s not gone. He’s not gone. You can’t accept it. Not your boy.

“I want to see him,” you cut Jon off between shallow breaths. “I want to see him. I want to see my son.” You stand up, but Jon grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him.

“It’s best if you don’t see the body,” he mutters with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

You scoff and pull your hand away in annoyance. “Best if I…” you can’t even finish the sentence and just push past him. When you open the doors, Sansa, Elia, Sarella, Arya, and the maester are outside waiting. And everyone except the Maester have tears in their eyes, whilst yours also remain dry.

“Y/N,” Sansa says first and steps towards you, but you avert her touch and pity and turn to face Jon following at your tail.

“Where is he?” You ask again. “Take me to him, or I will find someone who can.”

Jon clenches his jaw and glances at the maester, when he gets an approving nod, Jon hesitates but then walks past you to take you to Rhaenar. And with every step you take you fill yourself with hope that Rhaenar is actually alive. It’s foolish to everyone else perhaps to think so, but it’s not to you because he can’t be gone.

Once Jon stops just outside the door to the main hall, he hesitates to open the doors. You however are desperate and reach over, but he pushes them open first and reveals a single wooden table placed in the middle of the hall, over it lays a casket with a small body over it covered with a black shroud. And top of that body lays Helios all balled up.

You don’t hesitate to move, but this time you don’t rush, you slowly walk in as if any sound would wake him. Jon follows behind you slowly, whilst everyone else waits outside.

“Rhaenar?” You call in a shaky voice.

The boy lays still, you look at his chest and see no movement. And Helios, he breathes, but doesn’t open his eyes to see you, he remains there on top.

“Rhaenar?” You call again this time your voice breaks whilst that hope you built begins to break away, bringing back a…agonizing feeling to your heart.

When you finally approach the body you reach for the edge of the shroud. Helios finally moves from his position and snaps his eyes open, he parts his lips to growl, but when he notices it’s you he lowers his head again and closes his eyes to continue laying.

You then continue and begin to pull back the black shroud slowly. The moment you catch only a small glimpse of his forehead however, you quickly halt as you notice his flesh is…burnt, his skin isn’t brown like it was before, some of his dark black hair is gone from his scalp, and there’s bone that pokes through, causing you to gasp and cover your mouth as you’re slammed with the devastating realization once and for all that…Rhaenar…is…gone.

He’ll never come back, he’ll never breathe again, he’ll never smile, you’ll never see him. He’ll never be King or get married, he’ll never ride his dragon like he always dreamed to. He’s…gone. No.

No. No!

“No,” you cry out softly at first and cup his face. “No, Rhaenar,” you whimper. “My sweet boy, please.” You lower your head and press your forehead against his, and just stay there cradling him, letting tears escape out of your eyes, and feeling every second of your heart shatter completely by a sharp and excruciating pain. You feel your chest tighten until it feels like you can’t even breathe. All the world loses its color, and the air is bitter.

The pain grows so intense, it riddles your body, and that feeling like you can’t breathe deepens to the point that all you can do is finally cry out in grief. Whilst in the distance Eraxis loud sorrowful song fills the air at the same time.

“No!” You cry out and grip onto Rhaenar’s body. “No! My boy! My sweet boy! No!” Your legs begin to shake and they give up carrying your weight, however Jon catches you in time and pulls you in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

You sob out and fall to the floor with him. “No,” you weep. “Please. That’s my son, that’s my son!”

“Sarella!” Jon calls out for your cousin most likely to use one of her potions to put you to sleep so you won’t put strain on the babies. And you welcome it, but first you turn and grab onto Jon’s collar before you grab his jaw.

“Tell me Jon, tell me please my love…who was it? Who killed my sweet boy? Please?” You beg.

Jon exhales deeply, but doesn’t avert his gaze, he holds it and shares what you asked for with anger in his own eyes. “It was Daenerys….she sent her army, the Second sons undercover to ambush us.”

At the sound of his words, quickly, what accompanies your grief is now anger. Burning, fierce rage.

.

.

.

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #got #got fanfiction #got fanfic #Jon snow #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow fic #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #Sansa stark #daenerys targeryan #Arya stark #sarella sand #Elia sand #oc characters #daario naharis

[damn-stark]

Final chapter Home

Chapter 18 of Sandstorm

A/N- It’s the end 🥹

Warning- Fluff, angst, swearing and talks of death and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*15 YEARS AGO*

Again someone else you love is fading from your life. Once again fate is snatching something from you.

How cruel is life.

“I’ll say I forgive you,” you mutter to Daenerys and pull back to meet her watery gaze. “If you forgive me. I let my vengeance blind me. I turned against you after we swore we’d be better.” You sniffle and swallow thickly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

The corner of her lips turn to a smile and she reaches over to take your hand in hers. “I forgive you.,” she says. “I love you. All my life I spent looking for a home and when I met you I found it.”

You cry softly but manage a soft smile. “And I forgive you,” you assure her of what was weighing her down. “I don’t want you to go. Please….I’ve lost too much. Please.”

Tears stream down her pale cheeks and her thumb caresses your hand. “I’m afraid I’ve lost this fight…but I won’t be gone forever, I’ll wait for you and Daeron….” Her breaths become more shallowed and her eyes begin to droop. “At that house by the sea. Do you remember? The one you told me about.”

You nod vigorously and scoot closer to lay beside her.

“Can you describe it to me again,” she whispers. “Our vacation home. Our dream.”

“Yeah,” your voice breaks. “We’ll have a house in Sunspear, by the ocean with waters that gleam like shining turquoise diamonds...we’ll have so much space so that dragons can rest and burrow themselves in the sand.” You giggle softly. “We’ll plant lemon trees for shade and so we can pick the lemons for some refreshing juice. So while the kids play out in the water we can watch under the trees with drinks in our hands.”

Daenerys' eyes begin to slowly close, but her lips maintain that strained smile.

“And when the kids tire out we’ll put them to bed,” you add softly whilst you try hard not to break into a sob. “And then we can go outside and watch the stars that litter the dark sky together. Because the nights in Dorne are the most beautiful in the world. How does that sound?”

She doesn’t answer this time, she doesn’t flash you a beaming grin. She doesn’t breathe anymore, only cries fill the room as Daeron knows too that his mother is gone too.

You pick him up and begin to bounce him softly, you avoid sobbing in front of him and instead assure him just as you do with Rhaenyra and Robb. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay, I got you. I got you.”

The baby begins to calm down and his green eyes meet your gaze with curiosity. You grin and nod.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” you continue to coo at him. “We’re going home with Jon, and your new siblings.”

Everything passed like a blur after this moment. All that stuck with you vividly was Drogon taking Daenerys body with him to who knows where. Out of grief of his own?

You don’t know, he just took her and you watched with tears streaming down your cheeks. You watched until you couldn’t see him anymore and then left back home. Back to Jon and the twins.

And there he was waiting for you as if waiting for the result of your departure for revenge. He was the first person you saw when your feet hit the ground, and he didn’t fail to meet you halfway with a curious gaze targeted at the small bundle safely strapped to your chest.

Albeit before he could ask anything, at the mere sight of him you break. “I couldn’t save her. I was too late, she’s gone…Jon…I couldn’t…”

Jon shakes his head and grabs the back of your head to lean it against his and assure you. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“But I didn’t do it,” you ramble. “You have to believe me, I didn’t kill her, she was…she was dying when I got there and I couldn’t…I was too late—”

“I know,” he whispers. “I believe you.” He pulls back now and glances down at Daeron in deep sleep after the flight here. “Who’s this?”

You glance down at Daeron and tug on a shaky smile. “Jon,” you whisper and then meet Jon’s gaze completely enamored. “Meet our son…Daeron.”

——

*NOW. KING’S LANDING*

“Let’s say grace,” Jon directs at the kids gathered around the table before you join hands.

You take Rhaenyra’s hand and offer her a gentle smile before she ducks her head and listens to the words her father says, whilst you look around the table at each one of your kids; noticing that Edria and Oraena don’t want to hold hands because of some petty argument they had again. Ryuu holds Aemon’s hand, and Robb doesn’t hold anyone’s hand, the chair at his left side is empty.

You had noticed that Daeron was missing for dinner before but you just thought he was running late. Ever since he bonded with Helios all he’s wanted to do is be with him, so you thought maybe he lost track of time when he was with his dragon. However, he still has yet to join dinner and he never does without an excuse.

Which is why when everyone is seated and begins eating you address the group of kids. “Where’s Daeron? Has anyone seen him?” You glance at every single one of your children, the youngest girls shrug and Ryuu looks just as curious as you are.

“Jon,” you direct at him with a puzzled gaze. “Have you seen him?”

With his mouth full of food Jon shakes his head, so you glance at the twins and notice that they both avert their gaze. Perhaps if you had followed the advice of court and had servants raise them then you wouldn't know how to read them, but you did raise them so you know that when they both avoid eye contact and pretend to be busy that something is wrong. So that clueless curiosity fades and eagerness to know takes its place.

“Rhaenyra,” you press and pick up a piece of food from your plate. “Where’s Daeron? He is your betrothed, you must know.” You drift your gaze to her and shoot her a pointed glare.

Rhaenyra meets your gaze and then steals a glance at Jon before she sighs and looks at her food with a frown and shrugs. “I don’t know.”

You exhale slowly and snap your gaze to Robb. “Robb,” you deadpan and don’t ask anything since he knows what you want to know.

But all he does is shrug and get back to eating without a care.

“Oraena,” Jon pulls her in the conversation knowing she was easy to crack when he asked. “Where’s Daeron?”

“I don’t know daddy,” the girl answers, causing you to pull your pointed glare from Robb to look at her—“Edria, Ryuu and I had lessons today. Which by the way, Edria copied off my work!”

“Tattletale!” Edria snaps and jerks her body to the side, causing Oraena to bend down and grab at something beneath the table.

“Ow! That hurt! Mother!”

You sigh and look at Edria, the girl who is quite literally a female version of Jon. “Edria, my sweetling please. Leave your sister alone. Now go sit in the empty seat next to Aemon.”

“But,“ she argues. “Mother.”

You narrow your gaze on her and she fails to continue arguing and moves with her all things. So now you continue, and since Ryuu wouldn’t know of Daeron’s whereabouts, you turn to Aemon, the youngest child and the who should’ve been your first option.

“Aemon,” you talk softly, gaining his attention from his plate. “Do you know where your brother is? Will you tell me and your father please.” You offer him a pleading smile.

Aemon stares at Jon and you for a moment with his eyes wide before he nervously glances at Robb and swallows thickly.

You should’ve known Robb had something to do with this, he walked into the hall quiet and with his head low. He was too suspicious from the start but you just didn’t clock it.

“Do you know?” You press Aemon.

And just as you wanted, Aemon meets your gaze and begins to sign with his hands the answer. “Robb and Daeron got into an argument again,” he signs dramatically. “Robb said that Daeron was a bastard and that his mother was just…” He pauses and glances between Jon and you. “Can I swear?”

You glance at Jon to press him and check if it’s okay speechlessly, and considering the moment, he lets Aemon swear.

“Robb called his mother a whore and a usurper and a Kinslayer! He said that no one loved him and that…” he pauses and blinks repeatedly as he frowns. “He said that Daenerys killed Rhaenar…is that true?”

Your eyes widen whilst a shocked breath catches in your throat.

The truth is something you haven’t shielded away when it comes to your children, nothing good comes out of hiding stuff from them, but this? What Daenerys did to Rhaenar?

That’s been purposely kept out of the mouths of the people from King's Landing, no one in your proximity could say a thing about that to you nor the kids. You were going to tell them one day, when you were ready. You haven’t even told Rhaenyra, your heir so she wouldn’t have to be burdened with a secret she had to keep from her twin and the rest of her siblings.

You didn’t want Daeron to be treated differently because of his mothers sins. But now Robb knows somehow. Now they all know.

“Who told you, Robb?” Jon interrogates Robb since you’re too taken back. “Tell me now.”

Said boy scoffs. “It’s not hard to know,” he rebuttals. “Ask anyone and they’ll say it.”

“But that wasn’t your truth to tell!” You exclaim with angry tears clouding your eyes.

The kids all get startled and stiffen, Robb most of all.

“Daeron had no fault in any of it, I don’t care how mad you are about Helios, that is not something you should have told him. You come to me, or your father. Do you have any idea how that made him feel?” You press angirly.

Robb averts his gaze and clenches his mouth. He stays quiet and doesn’t move.

“Robb,” you call out loudly. “I’m talking to you.”

“No,” Robb grumbles.

You shake your head. “No, you don’t. Now tell me who told you?”

Robb exhales and mutters, “a woman. From the street of silk.”

You blink slowly and nod softly in comprehension.

So it’s that easy huh?

You exhale and duck your head to try and calm down. Jon sees your struggle and reaches over to take your hand in his. When you feel his comforting touch you share a sad look before you face the kids who all silently watched.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I’m sorry for raising my voice. I’m sorry for keeping that from all of you, I just…” you pause and feel your throat close up as your agony still hurts as much as the day you found out about Rhaenar’s death. “I’ll—”

“It’s okay,” Jon cuts you off softly as he guesses your new intentions. “I’ll talk to them.”

You meet his gaze and nod. “Thank you,” you whisper. “Now Robb do you know where Daeron went?”

Robb watches your cloudy eyes and loses his annoyance and expresses guilt in those dark eyes. “No,” he says. “He mounted Helios and left.”

You let go of Jon's hand and push yourself off your seat. “Okay,” you sigh. “I think I know…I’m going to talk to him, finish eating, all of you.”

Without anything else to add you give Jon a small kiss before you begin to walk out of the room with knights trailing behind you. Albeit before you can walk out of the doors, Robb catches up to you, making you stop in your tracks.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately shares. “Forgive me mother. I did not mean to upset you.”

You grab his arm and caress it gently. “It’s okay,” you assure him. “I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just hope now you find it in your heart to forgive Daeron. He’s your brother, he didn't bond with the dragon to spite you, Robb. I talked to you already about that, so please reflect on it. We…” you pause and glance at your family eating around the table and sigh shakily.

“We’re not eternal Robb,” you share with him reflecting on your own grieving past. “Life is a fleeting moment, it’s too short to hold grudges over one’s siblings.”

Robb looks at you with disbelief, expecting to get grounded and in deeper trouble, but you just offer him a gentle smile before you wrap him in an embrace. You hug him tightly as if you were scared he’d disappear, because you are.

Everyday the fear that one of the kids would get stolen from you lurks in the back of your head. Life left you too traumatized by loss to not fear death. That’s why you hug Robb with all your might, it catches him by complete surprise but he does hug you back. When you pull away you offer Robb one last smile before you head to Eraxis already waiting for you outside the castle gates.

Robb said Daeron flew away on Helios, so there’s only one place he could’ve gone that wasn’t within these castle walls. The home where he was with his mother for the first and last time.

You’ve only been there once after Daenerys passed, you missed her, you were stressed from ruling over Seven Kingdoms, taking care of kids, so you went to the last place you were with her and sat under a lemon tree to watch the sand blow in the distance.

It helped, you did feel better afterwards.

What about this time around though?

When you arrive at the isolated house Helios greets Eraxis, his mother with a soft growl.

“<You’ve grown,>” you tell the orange dragon with a faint smile. “<I’m glad to see you here.>” Since he isn’t a hatchling anymore you avoid petting him and instead head inside.

Hopefully, Daeron is in the room with the red door, you’d search the entire house for him, but with this stupid leg hurting let’s hope he’s in the room you’re heading to first.

And once you reach the chambers with the red door, you notice it’s partially open so you slowly push it open wider and step inside cautiously. “Daeron?” You call out and see that most of the furniture that was here before had been taken, and the once tighty room is left scrambled.

“Father said this where you found me,” Daeron makes himself known from deeper inside the room. “Or should I say Prince Jon.”

You follow his voice, and quickly come to find him standing over an empty cradle. When he sees you approaching he lifts his head and meets your gaze with cloudy eyes.

You don’t know what to tell him, “I’m sorry”, or just share the truth, so you just stop under the archway and watch him with a pitiful look.

“Daeron,” you mutter and clasps your hands in front of you. “Jon is still your father. Nothing is going to change that.”

Daeron averts his gaze and sniffles. “Why—” he soon cuts himself off and drops his head, letting brown strands of hair fall over his face.

“Oh,” you sigh softly and broken heartedly. “My sweet boy. I’m sorry you had to find out that way. I was going to tell you, just…not yet.” You break away from where you are and walk to his side, you try to grab his arm but he moves away and slowly faces you with tears rolling down his defined cheeks.

“How can you be that way with me?” He asks and his face twists deeper with sorrow. “My mother…she killed your son. She…took him away, she ripped away any hopes for peace. So why?” His voice shakes. “Why me?”

You hold his gaze and swallow thickly, you want to cry just at the sight of his tears, but you hold back and instead stroke the cradle. “Well,” you begin to tell him. “I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t nice, you know?”

Daeron scoffs. “I can’t believe it,” he rebuttals, making you smile at him.

You nod. “It’s true. I lost myself in my revenge. I let my vengeance cloud my judgment, something I was warned about. I would have let the world burn, everything and everyone in it to find a form of justice for what happened…I,” you pause and exhale deeply whilst you lean against the cradle as you find your words hard to say. “I wanted to kill an innocent baby. A son for a son. I came here the moment I heard your mother gave birth.” You pause and glance at Daeron, catching his green eyes are still intently on you.

“But what?” He asks. “Why didn’t you do it?”

You watch the cradle and remember that day vividly. You remember lifting the dagger, but not being able to do it. Every bit of that day has stuck with you for fifteen years.

“I was close,” you admit, “but then it hit me. That baby I saw in that cradle, that innocent baby boy….you,” you whisper and meet his gaze. “I knew you far before I even met you.”

Daeron’s eyebrows furrow in confusion to your words.

“You see,” you continue and stand up straight to grab his hand. “For months I had this same dream. Two cradles in the throne room. I never could find a meaning to it, I painted the dream, talked about it, but every single time I came out clueless….that is until I saw you.” You offer him a smile and add on. “I saw the sigil on your cradle, I met your green eyes and I knew you were my fate. I was never meant to kill you, I was meant to be someone who loves you. Unconditionally. That’s why it’s you, because you were always meant to be mine. My child.”

You cup Daeron’s cheek and gently caress it with your thumb. Daeron offers you a gentle smile but it quickly flickers away and that same sorrow is still there.

“All because of a dream?” He says softly.

You sigh and respond. “And because I promised your mother. Because no matter what happened between her and me, I still loved her deeply. And she loved you, with all her heart. Who would I be if I left you? Who would I be if I hated an innocent boy? I did it because I wanted to. Because I love you and she loved you.”

Tears continue to slip out of his eyes, but he manages a small smile that melts your heart.

“Nothing is your fault,” you assure him and cradle his face. “None of it. Robb was just mad, and people will just talk. I’m sorry it took me a long time to tell you.”

Daeron shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he comforts your concern. “I understand.”

You grin. “Thank you. You are just as sweet as she was. You know?”

“Really?” He probes.

You nod. “Yes….now,” you sigh. “I didn’t know your mother long, but…your father, your real father did, Daario Nahris. He loved your mother, he knew her longer than I did. I’m sure he has stories to tell.”

“He left me,” he deadpans. “Why would I want to talk to him? I’m fine, really.”

You don’t fight him and instead nod in comprehension. “Okay, but still, your father nor I will be hurt if you want to know Daario okay? Just ask your uncle Bran where he is if you’re ever curious.”

Daeron nods in agreement, letting you drop the subject and pull away with an excited grin.

“Now! My boy, you have a dragon,” you say eagerly. “Why don’t we see what kind of a flier you are.”

Daeron smirks. “Oh, you’re on, mother. All the way home?” He suggests.

You nod smugly. “All the way home,” you agree.

——

*A FEW DAYS LATER*

“Ease your grip,” you advice Oraena as you tap her hand with your wooden sword. “And go.”

You swing your sparring weapon, but just as it clashes with hers the weapon falls from her hands, letting you then point the tip to her throat.

Ryuu snickers at his sister's failure, but Jon quickly shuts him up, knowing how Oraena reacts.

“Ugh,” she groans. “I don’t like sparring, mother. It’s too hard!”

You lower your hand and step back. “Okay,” you say. “That’s okay, but I would like you to learn some basic self defense.”

Oraena swipes her wooden sword from the ground and scoffs. “I have a dragon. He can protect me.”

“Expect your dragon can’t be everywhere,” Jon interjects and begins to walk to your side. “He can get hurt, leaving you vulnerable. When he gets bigger he won’t be able to be inside, leaving you vulnerable. Self defense is for your own good, O.”

Oraena sighs deeply and nods slowly. “Fine,” she grumbles, “but I’ll only continue learning if I get to have Long Claw.”

“No,” Ryuu cuts in and barges forward. “I get to have it.”

You and Jon share an amused look before he rebuttals looking surprised. “Excuse me but who said I was giving it away? And O, you said you don’t want to be a fighter.”

Oraena smirks and shrugs. “Well if I have it maybe I will learn.”

“It goes to me,” Ryuu insists. “Father said.”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly and quip. “Well your father is not dead yet, nor is he giving his sword away at the very moment so neither of you are getting it. Come on now,” you pat both of their backs. “Let’s continue. Ryuu you against me.”

However, just as you get ready, Robb joins the training yard without any training weapons. He looks at Jon and you and sighs with this specific look painted on his face, a look that his father would do a lot before when you were at war. Somethings wrong.

“Mother, father,” Robb interjects after he clears his throat. “May I talk to the both of you? In private.”

You untense from your stance and share a worried look with Jon before you look at the master-at-arms. “May you continue with their training.”

The master-at-arms nods and steps forward as you step out. As you put your stuff back on the racks Robb and Jon wait for you to catch up by the stairs.

“Is everything all right?” You ask Robb after not having the patience to wait to get inside.

Said boy briefly meets your gaze and nods stiffly. “Yes, yes it is. I just need to let you know something, that’s all.”

Did he get someone pregnant?

You don’t ask that, however, you don’t want to get him upset so you wait until you’re inside a parlor room to press him. “What is it?”

Jon helps you sit down as you both keep your eyes on your eldest son.

“Uh,” Robb begins to say and begins to pace. “It’s nothing bad I swear…I’ve just…lately I think I’ve grown restless.”

Jon hums in comprehension and moves around you to stand behind you.

“I’ve been so hell bent on bonding with a dragon,” Robb continues and drops his head. “I made it my life, but now that this happened I don’t know what to do with my life. I’m stuck. And I either can stay here, watch my life pass before my eyes, grow angrier, or be a bigger disappointment, or I can carve my own path, learn, fail.”

You shake your head. “You’re not a disappointment Robb. You’re just growing,” you assure him.

Robb meets your gaze and offers you a soft smile before he exhales and turns serious again. “Regardless…I,” he pauses and looks at you with pity. “I’m going beyond the wall…with uncle Tormund.”

You gasp in surprise and stiffen.

“I’ve sent ravens and he said he’ll gladly take me. He wants to take me on an adventure to go explore the White waste, fight creatures that lurk in the shadows,” he smiles. “Maybe see an Ice Dragon.” He chuckles.

“But,” you mutter shakily as you try to bring up any excuse so he won’t leave. “You hate the snow.”

Robb sighs and shrugs. “I’ll learn to live with it. Mother, I can't be by your side forever. Rhaenyra will be Queen, Daeron will sit by her side and be Prince consort. Ryuu will be a knight soon enough, the girls will be wed, and Aemon will be too when they’re of age. I want this, I mean father has gone beyond the wall, all I hear are great stories about you, father. I want to make my own too, just like you.” Robb reaches you and crouches down to take your hands in his.

“Mummy,” he says sweetly. “I’ll be okay,” he tries to comfort your fear. “I’ll come back. In a few years.”

“A few years?” You gasp. “Robb.”

“Y/N,” Jon interjects and walks around you again to be in front of you. “My love, Robb is right. He can’t be by our side forever. He needs to go make his own experiences, as we have. Besides he won’t be alone, Tormund will be with him.”

“Oh and Jon,” Robb adds, referring to Sam’s son. “He’ll go too.”

“See,” Jon insists. “He will be fine.”

You look into Jon’s eyes and find your comfort, but your heart still hurts knowing Robb is leaving.

“Besides,” Robb says with a smirk. “I like to think I’m a great fighter, thanks to you and father.”

You laugh softly and lean over to cradle his face. “Oh my boy. It aches knowing you want to leave…but you’re right…just let us take you to Tormund then? Just so I can be assured.”

Robb chuckles and nods. “All right. That’s fine.” He proceeds to press a kiss on your cheek before he lets you go and stands to his given height. “Thank you for understanding.” He offers you a soft smile and begins to walk back. “I’m going to go pack!” He spins around and strides out of the room.

Once you don’t hear his footsteps out in the hall you turn to Jon with a long frown. “It’s happening,” you mutter. “They’re starting to leave.”

Jon chuckles softly, causing you to scoff and shoot him a pointed glare. “I’m being serious.” You stand up and walk to the balcony.

“You’re exaggerating,” Jon interjects. “He won’t be gone long. You’re lucky he doesn’t have to join the Night’s Watch.” Jon’s footsteps approach you, and once he’s near he grabs your arms and turns you to face him. “I know it hurts, but…think of it this way…they’re just growing, they’re living their lives. The way they want. We didn’t get that.”

You sigh deeply. “I suppose you’re right, but can’t they stay with us forever? I mean we can go to that beautiful cave with that impressive waterfall and be a nice cave family. Just us.”

Jon chuckles and cups your cheeks. “My love, they’ll be fine. Besides, they're not all leaving yet.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for an embrace you melt into. “We still have plenty of time with our children…and once they do leave and start living their own experiences we can retire, go to the cave, dorne, wherever you want and look back at how great of a mother you have been.”

You pull back and grin at him. “You’re a great father too, you know that. You deserve some credit.” You grab the sides of his neck and assure him. “You’ve done good. You’ve always thought you’ve been nothing, but Jon, you are everything good in this world, you are everything to our kids. They love you, they admire you.”

Jon’s smile turns timid and he caresses your cheek before he whispers. “And nothing would have been possible without you. I was living in the dark until I met you. You made me a father and gave me a big family, a family that I always wanted. So it’s not just me. It’s you too. Us.”

You grin and press your forehead against his. “We’re doing good.”

Jon nods. “Yes we are….thank you for that by the way.”

You give him a gentle kiss, and when he pulls back he murmurs, “I love you from this day until my last day.”

You steal another kiss from him before you murmur back against his lips. “I love you too. From this day until my last day.” You pull back and meet his gaze. “Will you take me back to that cave? When we drop Robb off?”

Jon nods. “I will. I’ll take you wherever you want. Always.”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“There they are my favorite flock of crows!” Tormund exclaims as all the kids climb off the dragons.

“Uncle Tormund!” Edria yells back and shoves past you to reach the tall and old man. “Look!���

Once she reaches him she tilts her head and shows off the scar on her face, since the last time you saw him she didn’t have a story to tell.

Tormund grins before he bursts out laughing and high fives her for gaining such a scar. “Great job little crow. How did you leave the other guy?”

“She didn’t even leave a scratch,” Ryuu cuts in so Edria wouldn’t dare lie. “She got beat.”

“Ryuu,” Edria hisses. “I did hit him!”

“Uncle Tormund,” Ryuu greets Tormund before they embrace. Oraena sees the interaction and rushes over to throw her arms around him, Aemon follows and Tormund doesn’t fail to wrap his arms around all three of them with a grin before he lifts them off the ground.

“The south at least is good for something, you’ve all grown,” Tormund comments and puts them down on the ground to pull back to greet the other three eldest before approaching Jon. “Little crow, how I’ve missed you my friend.” Tormund pats Jon’s back and squeezes him tightly. “Everytime I hear from you the more I’m surprised that you’re alive. You look old now.”

Jon chuckles. “Not as old as you.”

Tormund snorts and slaps Jon’s back harder. “It’s good to see you, Snow.”

“You too, my friend.” Jon pulls back and lets Tormund approach you and wrap you in a much softer embrace. “Dragon slayer, you’re not hiding another crow are you?”

You shake your head. “No,” you roll out. “No. We’re done now.”

“I never knew Jon had it in him,” Tormund says bluntly before he pulls away and studies you. “How is it going?”

You sigh deeply. “It’s not easy. But I can’t complain, things are somewhat peaceful now.”

“No one wants to face the wrath of, what is it five dragons now?”

You nod. “Daeron bonded with one not so long ago.” You show off proudly. “Not counting the three young dragons, we are five dragons strong now.”

“Exactly,” Tormund says. “No one would dare mess with that. You keep giving them hell.”

You offer him a smile and nod before the sadness returns. “You’ll take good care of him, right?”

Tormund glances back at Robb and nods to assure you. “Of course I will, don’t you worry, y/n,” he says and caresses your arm. “I care for him like he's my own. He’s in great hands. Don’t cry, when I return him to you he’ll be a man grown.”

Your breath shakes, but you resist from crying and nod, catching Jon approach you to comfort you too.

“If you’re saying this then I suppose you’re not staying then?” Tormund asks Jon and you.

Jon shakes his head. “No, we can’t. We just wanted to see him off.”

Tormund hums and nods. “Well you have nothing to worry about now. He’s got a lot to learn but he’s strong like the two of you.”

You offer him a thankful smile before you leave their side and approach the children. The three youngest are playing in the snow, but the oldest are huddled around Robb as they prepare to say their farewells.

“Here,” Rhaenyra tells her twin brother as she unbuckles her sheath from her waist. “I want you to have this. You’ll have more use for it with you then I do.” She then hands Robb the Valyrian sword that once had belonged to Ser Jaime.

Robb is hesitant to take it, considering Rhaenyra valued the sword so much, but he then grabs it without argument and hugs her tightly. “<I’ll miss you.> He whispers to her in high Valyrian. “<Thank you.>”

Rhaenyra’s chest falls and her grip around her twin brother tightens. “<And I’ll miss you. Write to me when you can. I’ll be expecting them.>”

Robb pulls back and nods. They linger there in front of each other for a moment longer before Rhaenyra steps away and lets Daeron step forward. And this time with this interaction you narrow your gaze and pay closer attention.

“I…” Daeron stops and exhales. “I'm sorry. You know I meant no ill will, Robb. I never—”

“Don’t,” Robb cuts him off and grabs Daeron’s shoulder. “You don’t need to apologize. I was being stupid.”

Daeron shakes his head softly in confusion. “You’re not upset?”

Robb shakes his head. “No,” he assures his brother. “Life is a fleeting moment, it’s too short to hold grudges over one’s siblings.”

You scoff softly in disbelief, and catch Robb’s cloudy gaze before he looks at his brother again. “Forgive me, brother, I’ve been an asshole…there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

Daeron lets out a soft huff before they embrace each other. “Have fun, write If you meet anyone, or if you encounter an ice dragon.” He chuckles softly and lingers in his brother's embrace before they pull away.

This time you approach Robb, you don’t say anything beforehand you just throw your arms around him and pull him close to you, not wanting to let go ever.

“I love you,” you whisper to him. “Be careful, keep warm and don’t put yourself in unnecessary danger. You understand me?”

“Yes, mama,” Robb assures you. “I understand….I love you too. I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll keep in touch as well.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod, making him laugh softly.

“Don’t cry,” he warns you. “I’ll be fine.” He tries to pull back but you refuse to let go.

“Just a bit longer,” you whisper. “Let me just hold you.”

Robb doesn’t argue, he lets you embrace him, he doesn’t let go of you either, or stands stiffly in your embrace, he keeps you close. However, now as you do linger there, someone else throws their arms around the both of you, when you check you see Oraena.

Edria doesn’t wait to do the same, causing Ryuu to join in, and then Daeron and Rhaenyra take advantage of this precious moment and become a part of the group hug.

“You're all squishing me,” Robb complains. “I can’t breathe!”

“Don’t complain,” Edria scolds him. “Just let us love you.”

You laugh softly and close your eyes to take in this moment. You want to say something, something sweet, but then before you can more weight is added to the huddle and manages to knock you all down to the snow covered ground.

Rather than becoming upset, or complaining when you see that it was Aemon and Jon who dropped you, you all instead begin to laugh and remain huddled together on the snow. Except tears also break out of your eyes now as well.

This is all you’ve ever wanted, a home, these simple moments. Rhaenar is missing, but you’re happy, thankful that you have them all, a home where you finally found peace in. You’re content with your life now.

This is all you’ve ever wanted and you finally have it.

——

*SEVERAL YEARS LATER*

Where there was once darkness, now there’s a soft and warm light that bathes your body. Walls that you recognize surround you, and a single door at the end of the hall shines. The door to your mothers chambers.

Without an ounce of hesitation you walk to it, feeling no ounce of fear whatsoever.

You knock once before you open the door, and more light floods out, so you shield your eyes.

“Visenya!”

Rhaenys?

So many years have passed but you’ve never forgotten the sound of your sister's voice.

“Rhaenys?” You whisper, and lower your hand from your face, catching her there inside your mothers chambers. “Rhaenys.” You greet her with a smile as you see her little face.

“Visenya.”

You freeze and snap your eyes up, that’s when you see her too. She’s beautiful and looks the same as when you saw her last, decades ago.

“Mama,” you whimper before you break away from your spot and run to her to embrace her. “Mama.” You cry. “I missed you….so much.”

She smells like home, she smells like flowers and everything sweet in this world. She’s so warm too. You feel safe with her.

“And I you,” she says in her sweet voice as she holds you tightly against her. “Now we have all the time in the world to catch up, my little sunspot….welcome back home.”

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A/N- ITS BEEN HELL OF A RIDE! Thank you to all of you who took time out of their lives to read this story, I love you so so much. I hope you liked this series and the ending. I had fun writing this series. Thank you again ❤️

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #last chapter #chapter 18 #got #got fanfiction #Jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow fic #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #daenerys targaryen #tormund

[damn-stark]

Chapter 12 Pretty when I cry

Chapter 12 of Sandstorm

A/N- I'M SO EXCITED FOR WHAT'S TO COME!!!

Warning- Sswearing, fluff, incest, violence, ANGST, death!! Dark magic and sacrifice, talks of pregnancy and THERES ALSO CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

There’s a ruined Red Keep that you stand in, two cradles stand in the middle. Snow falls through the gaps on the ceiling, this time albeit it’s slow and so life-like, the bitter breeze that swirls the snowflakes on the ground actually feels cold. Once again just before you can see the babies inside their cradles, the fire begins to grow around you, but this time it's flames actually provide heat and slightly blind your eyes.

You expect the dream to end there and then as it always does, but this time the fire lingers, you don’t abruptly wake up, the fire only grows taller almost as if trapping you inside. The heat intensifies, making you turn your head away and shield your eyes. The silence lingers thereafter and the fire's heat doesn’t change anymore, so you slowly turn your head and put your arm down, that’s when you catch a figure in the fire, it grows taller as it gets closer.

This hasn’t happened before, you never stayed this long. This is…different, something new. Is it the meaning behind this dream?

You narrow your eyes out of curiosity even if your heart is beginning to race out of fear. The figure grows taller the closer it gets, and then when it reaches the edge a shadow casts on the ground before an armored metal boot breaks out of the fire wall. Instead of stepping away even if you have nowhere to go, you stay put and watch the rest of the figure walk out of the fire, revealing herself as a slim woman with silver-gold hair; braided and bound in golden rings. Her eyes are an intense and unique pale lilac color that almost seems to burn as hot as that fire as her glare pierced in you. She shouldn't be unfamiliar but you do recognize her now as the fires light basks her intense majestic face.

It’s Queen Visenya Targaryen.

She is your namesake.

What is she doing here? In this dream? This isn’t an answer, it's only more confusion.

Yet before you can grow mad with confusion, from the corner of your eye you catch another figure emerging from the firewall at your right side. this time it’s a man, a very tall man with a thick and broad appearance, he’s built like a bull. His hair is blond, and his eyes are a deeper lilac. His gaze is as intense as the Queens, but he looks even more intimidating. And just like before, you recognize him too, he’s King Maegor Targaryen.

But why?

“What’s going on?” You ask the pair, the mother and the son.

But there’s no answer, instead a third person appears this time from your left side. It’s a woman, she’s older than the others, slimmer than Queen Visenya, she has a fair complexion and a high forehead. Her eyes aren’t the same color as the others, they’re blue. And like the others there is a name that comes to mind, Queen Alysanne Targaryen.

“What’s—” this time you don’t finish your repeated question because another figure emerges from the fire between Visenya and Alysanne, it’s smaller and the moment their face shows your face falls with disbelief and your eyes fill with tears, and your heart….that shattered thing begins to fill with joy and warmth.

“Rhaenar?” Your voice quivers.

He moves his arm away from his brown eyes and finds you in the middle of the fire circle, and instantly smiles. “Mother!” He exclaims, and before you knew it you were both running towards each other to meet with a tight embrace.

“Oh my sweet boy,” you cry and hold onto him, you draw in a deep breath and take in his scent. “My Rhaenar.” Your breath shudders.

The boy laughs softly and holds onto your neck with force.

“I’m sorry,” you interject and pull back to grab his cheeks and face him, now you notice that his face isn’t burnt, his face is okay here. His curls are so neatly formed and all over his face. “I’m sorry. I failed you, I’m so sorry.”

Rhaenar wipes your tears away and shakes his head with a sweet smile on his face. “It’s alright mother. I’m okay, I’ll be fine. Don’t cry please. I’ll always be with you.”

You shake your head and now grab onto his shoulders. “No. No I’m not ready to be without you, I need you with me in real life. Not here, not in my dreams.”

Rhaenar draws out a deep breath. “They’re not dreams really.” He scoffs. “It’s all real in a way. This place, it’s just been different for everyone, but for you, grandfather says it’s different, you’re the only one who’s seeked far enough to reach all of us. This plane.”

Your eyes narrow slightly, and your eyebrows furrow in comfuson. But the first thing you question is what he mentioned moments ago. “Grandfather?”

Rhaenar’s grin widens. “I’m not alone here mother, I have so many people here, family. But most importantly my grandfather! He’s been with me the entire time.” He nods and then looks back, when you follow his line of gaze you see the man he speaks about with so much glee, Rhaegar Targaryen, your father. He emerges from the fire too, with his long silver-gold hair, his deep blue eyes, and a faint smile on his pale face.

His presence fills you with nostalgia, familiarity, and there is a spark of joy, but that soon gets overpowered by the anger, burning fury.

“I know,” he says in that voice you’ve missed hearing sing to you. “I know you’re upset my girl, but—”

“No!” You cut him off and stand up to your feet to stride towards him. “No! You!” You sneer and point at him. “It’s your fault! It’s your fault I grew up without my mother, it’s your fault my sister and brother died!” You reach him and shove him back with that same anger. “It’s all your fault this all happened to us! To our family! You left me! You left us! You left! How could you do that?!”

Your father ducks his head out of shame and swallows thickly. “I will never forgive myself for what happened to your mother and your siblings, but it’s something I won’t regret.”

You scoff and step back.

“It had to be done. To complete the prophecy. Which it has, Jon, Daenerys, you.” He lifts his head and meets your gaze with awe. “Three heads to our dragon, my darling. We did it.”

You clench your jaw and shake your head. “At what cost?” You snap at him. “My son is gone. He’s dead! Daenerys killed him! He was only 10!” You rebuttal. “It’s true the dead are gone and I’m glad that they are, but nothing else matters anymore because so is he. So I ask what now?”

“Now you rule,” a different voice cuts in. When you snap your eyes to where it comes from you notice that it was Queen Visenya. “You will revive the Targaryen dynasty. You will take back what your father destroyed.”

You swallow thickly and rebuttal. “Daenerys rules now. Isn’t that enough? I can’t lose more, Jon, my children that have yet to be born.”

Footsteps step forward from your left side and a sweeter but still rather stern voice speaks. “You stay there in Winterfell and you’ll die too. Your children will always be a threat to her, will you see them die too?”

You snap your eyes to the left and meet Queen Alysanne’s gaze with a glare. “Like hell. I won’t lose them. But you have her, let her rule, it’s not like our family hasn’t killed their own kin before, why not her? Why me?”

“Because she killed your son,” a different voice adds from the fire.

You look towards the flames again and see a different women come out from within them, this woman had a thicker waist compared to the other two, her silver-gold hair was in a long braid as well. She was ethereal as all the others, but also intensity followed within her gaze. You knew her too, a lot quicker than the others, after all she was one of your favorites, that is before she actually ruled; Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

“Because you are the one meant to restore our glory, rule like we couldn’t,” she says and begins to approach you. “If she rules, she’ll commit the same mistakes and wipe out the Targaryen name. It’s you who is meant to sit on that throne, your children shall follow, the ice and fire that our prophecy foretold. I know,” she mutters softer now. “What it is like to lose a son…but you aren’t me, use your anger, use your power, use your kindness and take what belongs to you, for your son. For all of us.”

You let out a shaky sigh, but don’t let anymore tears fall now since you’re beginning to be filled with inspiration and anger once again at the memory of what Daenerys did.

“You have a good heart my dear,” your father interjects, pulling your attention to him again. “Use it, be noble, don’t lose what you already have. Those you keep close will carry you through this, but remember to be firm, fearless, stern and unforgiving to those who truly deserve it.”

You sigh but nod. You then look at Rhaenar, but before you can speak your last words to him, a deep husky voice cuts in from your right.

“Don’t be like your father, girl,” Maegor says and begins to walk around you, as if he’s stalking you, a prey. “Don’t be foolish, and don’t live in the clouds,” he scoffs and shoots your father a dirty glare. “Use your fury, your dragon is your best friend, use your strength and power. Take care of business like me.” He stops by his mother and shoots you a malicious smirk before he looks at his mother with a smirk. “Burn her. Burn Daenerys Targaryen.”

You offer him a nod and shoot him a faint smirk before you face Rhaenar one more time. “I will always, always love you my sweet boy. I’m sorry.”

Rhaenar smiles at you and wipes away that stray tear that falls from your eye. “I love you too, mama. Tell Jon that it’s okay, that I’ll be okay, yes?”

You grin and nod. “Of course.”

He then throws his arms around you and you don’t hesitate to hug him back with all your might. You don’t close your eyes in hopes you’d stay, and it’s why you notice Queen Visenya approaching you one last time. She meets your watery gaze with an intense and burning determined glare.

“Burn your dead, mourn your losses. You are Queen now.” She mutters before the darkness quickly surrounds you at one second before you’re thrown back to the cruel reality, back to your room, back to the coldness.

At least the sun is out today, it’s light is soft but not warm since it is still dawn. It should’ve provided an ounce of happiness, but the natural light finally breaking from the clutches of the winter clouds doesn’t affect you now.

You sigh deeply and wipe your tears away before you look at the bed and find the spot next to you empty, and when you touch it you notice it’s cold, letting you know that Jon has been gone for a while. And since he is your only source of motivation to keep going right now you get up and change to go look for him.

Yet when you reach the crypts he’s not there. You walk to the gates since maybe he’s out with Rhaegal, yet you don’t want to walk all the way over to hills where the dragons are if he isn’t, so you look up and speak to the guards at their post. “Excuse me?!”

A man reaches the rail and looks down. “Princess,” he calls out in surprises and straightens up.

“Has Lord Snow passed the gates?” You ask.

The guard shakes his head. “No, but I did seem him walk towards the Godswood earlier today.”

You hum and nod. “Thank you, sir.”

The guard nods, and you then head towards the Godswood. When you arrive you see the new planted trees begin to sprout where the ashes of the olds ones once stood, leaving a clear view of all the Godswood, and Jon kneeled at the front of the Heart tree.

As to not interrupt his moment of prayer you make sure to slowly approach him, but stop by the frozen lake that’s by the red leaved tree.

Nevertheless, Jon hears your footsteps and turns around. When he notices it’s you his gaze softens for a moment before the sadness on his dark eyes returns.

“Good morrow,” he greets.

You offer a small smile. “Good morrow,” you return and meet him in the middle of the snow covered field. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”

Jon takes your hands and shakes his head. “I was…done already. What are you doing out here? It’s cold.” He touches your belly and smiles. “Are they giving you fuss?”

You grin and shrug. “Always, but that’s not what got me to awake up.”

Jon lips pull to a bigger smile and he scoffs softly before he drops his gaze and stares at the snow below his feet with a deep sorrowful frown that makes your sadness return, and brews curiosity.

“What is it?” You probe.

Jon lets out a deep sigh and then meets your gaze with a watery look. “I asked for forgiveness from the gods, but it’s you that I truly need to apologize to.”

You slowly knit your brows together in confusion.

“Please,” he continues with tears escaping out of his eyes. “Forgive me. I’m the reason your son is dead. I didn’t reach him in time, I didn’t get rid of the men fast enough. I’m sorry.” Jon drops to his knees and keeps holding your gaze. “I can never make up for what you lost. I’m sorry.”

Tears threaten to come out of your eyes, but you hold them back and just feel your throat sting more as you slowly get on your knees, and cup his cheeks. “What happened is not a guilt you need to carry on your shoulders Jon...” you pause and swallow back thickly. “My life will never be the same without my boy. It is true, but don’t blame yourself. He’s okay.” You muster a soft smile. “He appeared in my dreams, he said he was okay, he told me to tell you that it’s okay.”

Jon slowly grows perplexed, but he knows better now so he accepts what you say is true. “But you—”

“I’ll…heal soon, but I do know that I have nothing to forgive because I don’t blame you, nor should you blame yourself. Please.”

Jon hesitates, so you press your forehead against his and whisper.

“It’s okay, my love. It is. I need you for what’s to come.”

Jon lets out a shaky breath, and then slowly cups your cheeks and keeps his forehead pressed against yours as he stays silent. You know he won’t doubt you, or try to discourage your new plan so you don’t explain what’s on your mind, you linger in the silence and relish in the warmth that radiates from his hands, from his lips, and from his body.

You don’t linger long though since it is cold and the funeral is today. Since you don’t have the stomach to eat so much breakfast is quick, it’s the getting ready that takes time. It’s not easy for you, no matter if you did see Rhaenar in a dream, to get ready for his…funeral, to mentally get ready to say goodbye one more time. But you still do it, you let the handmaidens dress you in a white dress that is dipped in red at the bottom, so the white-beige color flows to a blood red. You let them put on light makeup and fix your silver-white hair, you put on your gold jewelry, and then before you walk out of your chambers you grab Helios from his cage.

His eyes search the room for the boy he was once bonded to, he calls out for him in soft cries that only smash those heart fragments to smaller pieces. And there’s nothing you can tell him to comfort him. Absolutely nothing because you know he also knows deep within his little heart.

“Come on,” you whisper to Helios. “Let’s go.”

Once you step out Jon is waiting outside of your shared quarters, he holds your gaze for a moment before he takes your hand to interlace it with his before you begin walking outside, past the gates, to the top of a snowy hill. People begin to part once they see you approach, the Starks and your sisters then break away from their spots behind the crowd and follow you towards the funeral pyre where Rhaenar’s body lays wrapped in a white shroud.

Time moved normally before you walked through the crowd, but once you begin to walk past the people gathered to reach the pyre time began to move slowly as your mind still tries to comprehend that this is all real. That you’re going to say goodbye to your boy forever.

Tears even fail to fall at those moments you walk forward, even when you reach him your tears don’t break out from your eyes, no. Even if your heart sinks and a shaky breath escapes from your chest, you don’t cry. Instead you let Jon’s hand go and place Helios on Rhaenar’s chest one more time.

The dragon knows, he knew the moment Rhaenar drew his last breath that he was gone and they’d never see each other again. But the dragon like you held onto hope. It’s why Helios crawled to Rhaenar’s neck and sniffed him before he began to nudge his jaw so he’d wake up.

You knew you were being foolish, but you waited for a response. When it doesn’t come and Helios lets out a broken whine, is when you can’t hold back anymore and let a sob escape from your mouth.

Eraxis feeling your sorrow, cries out and fills the silent air with her melancholy song. Helios follows and sings about his own grief, and Rhaegal then joins them too and all three dragons fill the winter air with their sorrow filled songs.

You then drop your forehead on Rhaenar’s and clutch onto his shoulders, you cry and cry until you can’t breathe properly, until you can’t even stand. That’s when Eraxis leans her head forward and tries to wrap her neck around you for comfort and support. It startles some people from the crowd, after all, all they knew about dragons was that they’re fierce, not that they were also comforting and filled with many complex emotions. It got those who weren’t crying already, to shed tears for a boy they hardly knew.

And it was thanks to your dragon's comfort that you were ready, so you scoop up Helios, and as Eraxis raises her head in the sky you turn and walk down the pyre to hand Arya the orange dragon. “It’s okay,” you assure her. “He won’t harm you.”

Arya pulls the dragon back towards her and holds him fearlessly and with slight pride. Now, as you face Rhaenar again, you take Jon’s hand again and lift your chin to sniffle before you part your lips. Yet you can’t muster the word, only sobs.

“It’s okay,” Jon whispers and begins to rub your back. “Take your time.”

Your bottom lip wobbles, and your chest begins to feel tighter and heavier to the point you can’t breathe anymore, you turn to Jon and bury your face in his chest. He quickly wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head as he caresses your back softly.

“May he soar the skies in paradise,” Jon interjects. “May he rest and find peace, may he watch over his family. I’m sorry Rhaenar…”

A moment longer passes before you can face the pyre, before you can part your lips and mutter out the right words that tore at your heart. “Dracarys.”

The white dragon draws in a deep breath before she opens her mouth and breathes out fire, bathing the pyre and Rhaenar in her hot and bright red-orange flames.

You stand there in front of the fire, you bask in its heat and let more tears fall out before the anger returns, before that burning fury begins to boil your blood again, bringing back that dream you just had and everything that was said, especially those venomous words spoken by Maegor; “Burn her. Burn Daenerys Targaryen.”

You won’t hold onto hope for your rekindling anymore, you won’t ask for forgiveness. You’ll seek revenge and what truly belongs to you.

Which is why you slowly turn and face the crowd still gathered in front of the pyre. You meet the gaze of Jon before you face them all with a scowl. “I was asked to fight for the throne by all of you,” you interject loud enough so they can all hear. “I declined out of hope, and a dream that I would know a peaceful life and receive Daenerys forgiveness for my future, for the future I carry within me. But now, after she took what I held so dear in my heart, my first born. Now she will know my wrath, and I hope you all can follow me in my path to the throne. It will be another war, devastating no doubt, but once it is done we will finally know peace because she is just like those that came before her, a tyrant lost in her way.” You sigh, but muster a malicious smirk.

“I hope you all follow me. For my son, for you, for me.” You finish.

And thus, without hesitation the crowd begins to cheer, shouting out only one phrase. “Queen Y/N!”

——

*DAENERYS. KING’S LANDING*

A knock raps on her door, echoing in the tense silence that filled her quarters.

“Come in,” she welcomes the visitor, hoping it was successful news of the ambush. Waiting for the news has been keeping her on edge, she could hardly sleep, or keep in one place, she needed to know.

“My Queen,” a familiar voice she hasn’t heard in a long time cuts through the silence.

Daenerys turns quickly on her heels and comes face to face with Daario Naharis, a man she had left long ago in Meereen to enforce peace, a man who’s appearance hasn’t changed, and someone who she can’t deny is happy to see. After all he is one of few who hasn’t betrayed her, he’s remained loyal even after she broke his heart.

“Why wasn’t I advised you arrived?” She responds with a quirked brow and a faint smirk playing on her lips as he doesn’t fail to make her body ignite with lust.

Daario smirks wider and pulls his hand from behind him to show her the wildflowers he held in his hand. “I came on a faster ship apart from the others because I wanted to surprise you.”

Daenerys hums and watches the man slowly begin to approach her.

“I’ve brought these,” he says and pushes the flowers towards her.

Daenerys breaks away from her spot to slowly walk towards him, stopping just before she can reach him to let him get close to her instead. He offers her the flowers and she hesitantly takes them from his hand to then raise her chin and hold his warm gaze.

“I would just like to say that you look even more beautiful than before,” he adds. “The crown suits you.”

Daenerys places the flowers down on the table beside her and crosses her arms over chest to now press him with her gaze alone.

“Ah,” he says and clasps his hand behind him. “Right. The ambush happened, yet I’m disappointed to say that Lord Snow managed to escape with a couple of his men. The ship burned, most of his men aboard died, and a boy traveling with them perished in the fire.”

Daenerys blinks and furrows her eyebrows. “A boy?” She queries.

Daario nods. “Yes, I’m not sure who, but Lord Snow made great effort to take his body.”

Daenerys lips slowly begin to fall, and her arms slowly unfold from her chest as a name begins to circle her mind.

“Were there dragons in the sky?” She asks him with her gaze begining to narrow.

Daario nods. “Yes. The creatures burned our ship and helped them escape. There was three of them, a white one, Rhaegal, and a small orange one.”

Daenerys swallows thickly and turns around abruptly to look out at the gloomy white sky, and sighs deeply as sorrow begins to stab at her heart and pain fills her mind.

“What is it?” Daario instantly asks and takes a step towards her.

“Wheres Greyworm?” She avoids his question.

“I let him take a second break so I could deliver the news to you personally.”

Such a radiant boy he was, young prince Rhaenar. Regardless of the tension that existed towards the end of the relationship between you and Daenerys, he never was rude to her, he was kind and caring. No matter how short of time she had with the boy, she still cared for him because he was family, and now he’s gone and you're heartbroken.

And she can’t cling onto the hope that the dead boy is someone else, why else would Jon be so desperate to the take the body, why else would Helios be with Jon. Helios is a small dragon still very much attached to who he’s bound to, that dead boy is Rhaenar.

“That boy who perished,” Daenerys mutters and approaches her window with tears clouding her eyes. “Was the son of my niece. It was y/n’s son. How did it come to be? I said just kill Jon and the men he was with.” She stops and exhales deeply before she turns to face him.

Daario stays in his spot and shrugs. “I can’t be certain. You know how battles are? Unpredictable. All I know is that a fire started on the ship. It was an accident.”

Daenerys scoffs and shakes her head. “She won’t see it that way. No one on her side will. If she was ready to make peace before, now we can forget about that, especially with Sansa whispering in her ear.” Daenerys clasps her hands in front of her and drops her head.

“You sit on the throne now,” Daario interjects and steps forward. “They’ll follow you.”

Daenerys snaps her head up to face him. “No,” she snaps. “They won’t. The Reach will rally behind her because of what she gave them, and the future commitment that once bonded them. We can’t even count or try and sway Dorne, even dead they’ll never follow another king or queen that isn’t her or descended from her bloodline.” Daenerys turns and approaches the balcony to gaze out at the city below.

“The Vale of Arryn will follow her because of Sansa, meaning the North is also supporting her,” Daenerys continues to tell Daario. “And the Riverlands…they’ll follow the Starks, making for Five great houses rallying behind her, leaving us with two, the Westerlands if I keep Tyrion alive, and the Stormlands...” she pauses and sighs deeply. “That is if I make our commitment periment with a marriage proposal to the new Warden.”

“And so you shall have it,” he assures her with no argument, and finally closes the gap between them to grab her shoulder and turn her to face him. “You have a fleet, more men. And a dragon experienced in war. You can win this, you only lose if you give up, and I know you’ll fight with fire and blood before that happens.”

Daenerys holds his gaze and hums, feeling relieved that she once again had someone she can trust and talk to.

“We’ll get to work right away, fortifying the walls, whipping the men to shape, and making alliances.” Daarios continues to assure her. “No one will take that throne from you.”

——

*WINTERFELL*

Jon’s voice echoes out from the hall, his words are passionate you know they are because he gives good speeches, but right now his words just don’t register in your mind, all that you can think about is Rhaenar, the new future that you are now paving with this choice. Anger still fuels you and it's what’s pushing you, whilst that motivation after seeing your father and ancestors burns in your veins, waking up something that was dorement before, determination to take what’s yours once and for all.

It’s why you don’t frown, you don’t express sadness in your eyes either as Dornish guards make a path and line up across from each other all the way to the end of the hall where Jon, and the maester awaits with your crown. It’s that burning determination, and that grief that brings you pride as you stand at the end of the lined up guards, with your head up high.

Horns begin to play inside after Jon finishes his speech, letting you finally break away from your spot and create a footprint on the sheet of snow as you begin to stride ahead in between the guards.

The blades they hold above your head begin to fall when you pass them, leaving them to see only your back and the tail of your red dress. When you step inside the warm hall, slowly the people viewing your coronation kneel as you walk past them.

Being here was something you never dreamed about, at least you always thought you’d stand on the platform waiting for your husband to get crowned. Now that you’re here though, now that you see all the people kneel, as you see the guards metal blades glistening against the firelight, you can’t help but smile inside. And the moment you take Jon’s hand as you reach the platform a faint smile finally forms on your lips.

Jon mirrors your gesture and then leans forward to press a kiss on your cheek before he shifts to the side and helps you to your knees. Once you’re secured he moves to the side and lets the maester step forward.

“May the Warrior give her courage,” his voice booms throughout the hall before he daps oil on your forehead. “May the Smith lend strength to her sword and shield,” he continues and adds more oil on your forehead with each saying. “May the Father defend her in her need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light her way to wisdom.” With that last saying instead of oil he dabs blood on your forehead by your request as a sign of your goals, battles to come, and revenge.

When the maester finishes he turns to set the bowls down to instead grab a golden crown forged partly by the gold jewelry that Rhaenar owned so you’ll always carry him with you through this journey as Queen. The maester then turns with the shining gold crown in hand, causing the red shining rubies that are decorated around the crown to twinkle against the firelight. As he lifts the crown you see two small winged dragons holding the red ruby at the center. The moment he places the crown on your head you feel the heavy weight fall on your head, bringing some discomfort.

“Let the Seven bear witness, Visenya Targaryen second of her name is the true heir to the iron Throne,” the Maester adds, causing the crowd behind you to quietly agree.

After that is over Jon leans over and offers his hand, you gladly take it and let him help you to your feet. He then quickly lets you go and kneels before you. It catches you off guard for a second, but you have to remember that you are Queen now and it’s going to happen more often.

Alas, Jon then stands up and drifts his gaze to the crowd. “All hail her grace!” He exclaims. “Visenya, second of her name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm!”

You draw out a small breath and turn, catching the crowd and the guards kneel. You drift your gaze to the right front row and see Elia and Sarella kneel, Sansa curtsy whilst Arya kneels too. You then look to the left front row and see Ser Jaime kneel, Ser Brienne and her ward kneel, Ser Davos takes goes down too, and then as on cue, Eraxis fills the silence and air with her prideful roar, making you finally smirk.

“Long live the Queen!” Elia is the first to exclaim.

“Long live the Queen!” Ser Jaime follows before everyone inside repeats those words as they get up and clap.

Those who carry swords lift their blades in the air and shout. “Queen Y/N!”

Those words fill your ears and bring happy tears to your eyes as you tug your lips to a smile. When you sit on the wooden chair that was placed on the platform more people cheer, and Ser Brienne approaches the stairs that lead to the platform. She gets on one knee and meets your gaze.

You throw your hand out to silence the crowd, and they don’t fail to listen, letting Ser Brienne speak.

“I swear toward the Queen,” she interjects in a loud confident voice. “With all my strength, and give my blood for hers. I shall take no husband, hold no lands, mother no children. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side and defend her name and honor.”

Chills travel down your spine, and a soft smile tugs on your lips. You rise up again and bow your head, letting her stand.

“I appreciate your loyalty and devotion, Ser Brienne. I’d trust no one else but you to be my Lord Commander of the Queensguard.”

Ser Brienne breath draws in a small breath and can’t help her proud smile at the mention of the title you just bestowed upon her.

“I leave it to your judgment to choose the other six who should join the Queensgard. When you have chosen the right people you may bring them to me.” You let her know.

Ser Brienne nods in comprehension and stands back up to return to her spot, leaving you to address the crowd to give them an announcement. “Every ruler needs their most trusted advisor at their side, a friend to confide in. A hand when one’s pair is full. Someone who is not afraid to hide their thoughts or pass judgment. There are many here that I trust to be that with me, but there’s one person who I know won’t fail me, Lady Sansa Stark.”

It was a choice that you had discussed before, and one she took with the condition that when this war is over, and if it is you who sits on the throne then she would step down to be Warden and Lady of the North.

“Lady Sansa, I name you hand of the Queen.” You finish saying, making said person head to the front to kneel. You then turn and grab the pin from Jon to walk towards his sister and hook the golden pin on her chest.

The crowd makes commotion in support of the choice.

“You honor me, Queen Y/N,” Sansa says and stands back on her feet.

You offer her a smile and watch her return to her spot so you can continue to announce to the people who else will be a part of your court. “Now with these battles to come I trust no one else to be my Master of War but my dear husband, and your King Consort, Jon snow.”

At the announcement of both new titles the crowd cheers for Jon, while you look over at him and grin. He breaks away from his spot to stand before you and bow his head. Your smile widens, and you’re filled with glee as you get to finally reveal your gift.

“Arya,” you call out and meet her dark gaze. “If you may please.”

Jon looks back at his sister in confusion and follows her every move as she makes her way to you. You fill with more joy and excitement as she reaches into her sack and pulls out a silver crown that looks similar to yours, but is a bit thinner, and has a golden dragon and a golden wolf holding a ruby at the center.

“Now,” you continue and take the crown from Arya. “I know that you aren’t one to be so flashy, and you’d be content without one, but it is gift from me to you.”

Jon holds your gaze and sighs softly, but he can’t help his faint smile before he kneels, letting you carefully place the crown on his head.

“There,” you say and clasps your hands before you. “Handsome.”

Jon scoffs softly and then stands back up to fall back at your side, letting you continue so you can finally finish and announce your master of whisperers, Bran Stark of course, and lastly your Master of coin Lord Ben Ashfords son, the heir of the Reach, Bernard Ashford. As to the other positions well, you still have yet to fill. Hopefully you’ll get to find the right people soon.

With that said you turn away and head to a different chamber where you will have your first small council meeting that consists of your sisters, Jon, Ser Brienne, Sansa and her siblings, and Ser Jaime.

“You know you did not have to get me this,” Jon breaks his silence as he walks by your side to the meeting quarters. “This crown is not necessary.”

You glance at him and smile. “You are my King Consort, my love, a King needs his crown.”

“I would’ve been fine with a ring,” he counters, making you giggle for the first time since Rhaenar passed.

“I told you,” you retort and hook your arm around his. “It’s a gift. You don’t need to wear it all the time, I just wanted you to have one.”

Jon meets your gaze and hums softly before his gaze softens. “You need to rest, you’ve been on your feet for far too long.”

You roll your head to the side and draw out a deep breath. “Yes, perhaps I should, but there are meetings to be had now. You know this isn’t easy. But for your comfort after this meeting is over we can retreat to our chambers and take a warm bath together, hm?”

Jon nods softly in agreement. “Sounds like a plan,” he assures you. “Not like I could actually refuse you now. You are the Queen.”

You scoff and shake your head. “Don’t start with me Jon.” You chuckle softly, causing Jon to watch you with a soft and admiring gaze and smile since he likes the look of your smile and the sound of your laugh after seeing how much you’ve been suffering.

Yet it is short lived since that sweet look on your face fades away, and gets replaced by a sad confident look when you all enter the meeting quarters.

Now the burden falls on you, after so much that your family did to try and get you on that throne, and after trying to avoid the burden, you wear the crown now and lead thousands. Now rather than listening on the sidelines you sit at the center and have all eyes on you.

“Thank you all for coming,” you address the group as they find their seats around the table. “You’ll have to pardon me for the next couple of meetings. As much as I have studied I still am not used to ruling,” you huff softly and clasps your hands together.

The people around the table don’t say anything to you so let out a deep sigh and continue.

“Let’s get to business then. I know not so long ago I turned down Ser Jaime’s requests of retrieving his brother from the clutches of Daenerys, but now with the sides being drawn, the Westerlands are left undecided. The Lannister’s may not be a strong house, but their name still holds much value, having both men at our side can benefit us. So,” you say and look at Jaime sitting in the middle.

“Ser Jaime, I grant your leave. You won’t have men though, it will attract too much unwanted attention.”

Ser Jaime’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you begin to smirk. “Sarella,” you name, causing the woman to straighten up. “Arya, you are clever, discreet and able to hide well. Will you accompany Ser Jaime to smuggle his brother out?”

Sarella without a fault nods. “Of course, sister.” She assures you, letting you shift your gaze to Arya. And when your eyes land on her a small smirk tugs on her lips.

“I will,” Arya agrees. “Thank you, Queen y/n.”

You offer her a smile and a small nod.

“Excuse me, your Grace,” Lord Royce cuts in. “The plan is great and all, the Westerlands may not be the largest land, but they are the richest. It will benefit us well, but with sides set, and Daenerys with a patch of new soldiers, entering the city will be difficult.”

You nod and can’t help your smirk from widening. “Yes. I know. It’s why while the three of them enter the Red Keep, I will lead a distraction.”

The members of the council all share confused and concerned looks at the mention so you explain your plan, and assure their worry. “It won’t be a big army, there won’t even be men, the distraction will consist of only women. I unfortunately won’t join the battle at the ground, I cannot,” you scoff and reach down to caress your swollen belly. “I’ll be in the skies with Jon, while the women go in pretending to seek refuge and help from Daenerys. Her army will come out and provide assistance, they won’t suspect such brutal attacks from women,” you begin to smirk smugly. “They’ll think of them as weak, fragile. That’s when the army women will strike, I will go in later and burn what remains of the small army. After that Jon and I will lead them out before more men can come.”

“If it pleases your grace,” Ser Brienne interjects as she takes a step forward so you can see her. “I would like to lead the attack on the ground in your stead.”

You catch the disbelieved stare of Lord Royce, but you have faith in her; just because she isn’t like every other typical woman doesn’t mean a thing. It’s sad that men here don’t see such a thing.

“Of course you can, Ser Brienne, the army will consist of Dornish women warriors and northern women who volunteer. Any other woman from the other armies of different houses can also join if they please, but we need to keep the numbers small.”

“Understood,” Ser Brienne agrees.

You drift your gaze back to the other members. “We will make that our first attack after the lords pledge their loyalty. With that said, Sansa, what can we expect from the Riverlands?”

Sansa raises her head and parts her lips. “My mother was a Tully. Our uncle still lives and rules now in my grandfathers stead. I expect we will gain their allegiance, but I think we should still go in person and ask.”

You nod. “Alright. We can go after our first attack, that way Daenerys doesn’t get word of our attempts until after. What about the Stormlands?”

“Given Daenerys gave the Stormlands to Gendry and declared him a legitimate Baratheon,” Jon interjects. “I doubt we can count on his allegiance.”

“But the boy doesn’t know a thing about ruling a kingdom or people,” Jaime argues. “Nor does he have the right connections.”

“But he has the Baratheon name now, he may be a bastard but some people will follow his family name,” Ser Davos defends the man. “Surely the staff at the castle would help.”

“I assume not long, any lord could usurp him,” Jaime counters. “We can use that to our advantage.”

“Aye,” Lord Royce agrees.

You look over at Sansa and ask her a question. “Could we send an envoy to any of the other lords?”

Sansa sighs. “We could, but we have to think about the risks, if Gendry bends the knee it would benefit Daenerys to strengthen the alliance with a marriage. She’d burn any rebellion attempts. We have other kingdoms that take priority if it comes down to a battle .”

“We could get rid of Lord Gendry,” you suggest. “That breaks the alliance—but also turns the Stormlands against us.”

“Then we leave them,” Jon adds. “As far as resources, it’s only fighters they provide. We have the numbers, we don’t need them. If a lord reaches out to us then we can think of a plan, until then we count them as traitors.”

“Anyone disagree?” You ask without trying to argue Jon’s suggestion.

The people around the table shake their heads in disagreement, letting you continue on. “ Bran, do you know anything?” You ask the quiet boy.

Bran nods stiffly. “Only confirmation that Daenerys plans to marry Lord Gendry. As soon as he arrives at the capital.”

Just as Sansa mentioned.

“Smart girl,” you comment. “With the Stormlands off the table, we also can’t count on the Iron Islands. With luck we will gain the Westerlands and the Riverlands.” You let out a small breath and then continue. “Anything else someone would like to discuss?”

Everyone looks around, but no one adds anything, thankfully leading this meeting to an end for today.

“Alright, well you all are dismissed, thank you for attending.”

Everyone disperses out of the room, and you wait for them all to leave before you can. However, Ser Brienne, Ser Jaime, Jon and your sisters linger behind.

“Excuse me, your Grace,” Brienne directs and bows her head as she addresses you. “But is it okay if I take my leave for today? I would like to start finding the other members for the Queensguard.”

Right that.

“Of course uh, Sarella, Elia,” you call out. “May you introduce Ser Brienne to some of the commanding officers of the Dornish army. There are some great fighters there you can choose from.”

“Yes!” Elia exclaims all too excitedly. “I would love to go.”

Of course she would, she likes to gawk and flirt with the men.

Regardless, they leave but Ser Jaime stays behind still. He takes a moment before he says anything, first he slowly makes his way towards your chair before he finally reveals his thoughts.

“I know I have probably said this, but, thank you. You have been too kind, more than I deserve. You have given me a second chance, and it’s one I don’t deserve and one I will live my life repaying. So thank you, Queen Y/N.” He reaches for his sword and then kneels with his hands on his pommel. “My sword is yours, my Queen. I may not be a great fighter anymore, but I have experience that can be just as valuable. I want to serve you.”

You share a small glance with Jon before you stand on your feet. “Then you shall. I need all the help I can get. And I value your thoughts, Ser Jaime. Just promise that when you see me straying from my moral path that you will help rather than betraying me. Remind me of the people I fight for because some rulers tend to forget who really keeps them in power.”

The corner of Jaime’s lips tug upward before he nods in agreement. “I will. I swear.”

“Great. Then if Jon wants you can help him with the armies. You may also help train the soldiers.”

Jaime gets to his feet and accepts before finally leaving Jon and you alone.

“Now,” Jon says and take your hand. “Can I have you to myself?”

You grab onto his arm and drop your head on his shoulder. “Please, I beg you.”

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

With the anger fueling through your blood, with fury clouding your mind, sleep was impossible, that hunger for revenge kept you awake and raised a desire in you for something to be done. Something that you haven’t touched in a long time, dark magic.

Rhaenar was your son, he was your little boy, and Daenerys took him, she will pay with blood, you will rip everything she has ever loved from her hands so she can feel what it is you feel.

So while the castle is sleeping, while no one can interrupt you, you use the chambers where Daenerys had stayed in to conduct a spell.

“Did you bring it?” You ask Sarella.

Sarella nods and unhooks her cloak to show the small baby in her hands.

You trusted no one else but them, besides the others would only judge you for this dark magic. Elia and Sarella won’t.

“It’s sick,” she mentions. “Mother dead, father drunk and with no love for this child.”

You nod stiffly and take the blade from the flames, and watch as the metal gleams red and orange with how hot it is.

“A dragon will never compare to the love you have for your own children. I want her to feel that love, that joy when she holds her child in her arms for the first time. I want to see her care for that child so much more than her own life so she feels an ounce of what I feel.” You sneer to the flames. “Blood for blood. Son for a son.” You glare at the flames and clench your jaw.

You then turn to grab the bowl off the floor, but just before you can you come to a sudden stop as you swear you see Rhaenar’s face in the flames, you swear you see his sweet brown eyes. And a small frown on his face. It’s only for a second, but you swear you do.

“I’ll use my blood that connects us,” you mutter and put the bowl over the fire. You then put your palm in front of you and use the sharp edge of the blade to cut a slash on your palm.

The pain stings and burns, but you just clench your jaw and keep quiet as the blood begins to spill out of the cut. After the slash is made you put the blade down and put your hand over the fire and fist your hand to make the blood pour over the bowl.

“Now, Elia give it to me,” you interject and put your uninjured hand out.

Without hesitation the girl comes to you and hands you a brush. One Daenerys had left behind when she left Winterfell.

“Now I’ll use her hair to connect this spell to her.” You add and pull the strands of hair off the brush and throw it in the bowl. “Now,” you sigh deeply and feel some hesitance and regret. But your pain is much deeper, so you turn regardless, and Sarella hands you the sickly baby.

“The sacrifice to complete this spell,” you continue and pick up the knife from the floor. You swallow thickly and without thinking deeper into what you’re going to do you slice.

The blood trickles out so you push it towards the fire and let the thick scarlet liquid spill over the bowl. Once the bowl is full you hand the lifeless body back to Sarella. “Feed it to the dragons.” You tell her.

“Now it’s time to finish.” You put the blade down, and put your arms out, you close your eyes and lift your head to begin chanting the needed spell in High Valyrian.

At first you start off quiet, but you get louder and louder, whilst the fire suddenly enrages and sends off sparks and thick smoke as it engulfs the bowl and what it contains inside.

The heat intensifies, bringing sweat to break out on your face, making the dress stick to your skin. The fire's light brightens, making Elia and Sarella shield their eyes.

But the act doesn’t last long, it then ends and the heat and brightness fades back to what it was before. Now nothing remains in the bowl anymore. Now the spell is complete.

“There,” you let your sisters know. “She’s barren no longer. She’ll have a child now and fear my pain. Soon she’ll pay. Son for a son.

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A/N- Now do you guys think Daenerys will have a child with Daario? Or one with Gendry?

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie e @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarsslut @stargaryenx x

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #got #got fanfic #got fanfiction #game of thrones #chapter 12 #Jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #daenerys targaryen #daario naharis #jaime lannister #ser brienne #visenya targaryen #maegor the cruel #rhaegar targaryen #Sansa stark #Arya stark

[damn-stark]

Chapter 16 LONG LIVE THE QUEEN

Chapter 16 of Sandstorm

A/N- Two more chapters before the big finale!!

Warning- Swearing, death, violence, blood, fluff, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“…that was the story of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters, my favorite story when I was a little girl. Albeit…my father, your grandfather, would tell it a whole lot better.” Your voice quietly fills the room Jon walks into.

Today was the day you parted from Dorne to march towards Kings Landing for one last time, for the big fight, the last battle. Neither of you knew if either of you were going to make it, you kept hoping you would, but anything can happen. And because your fate is unclear you haven’t wanted to leave the twins' side all day today. Jon didn’t either, he was happy now with his family, with his children only a few weeks old, with you.

This is where you belonged, here with them, and now you’re leaving. This is all you ever wanted and you’re leaving again.

But it has to be done for…Rhaenar, for their own safety; they’ll always be a threat to her now that the Lords allied with you have turned a blind eye about Jons true parentage. It’s not hard to guess why; he’s a man, the last Tagaryen male with a dragon, he’s valuable to them. He’s their true King.

They can think whatever though, fuck them, you’ll still be the one on that throne at the end of the day.

“Y/N,” Jon makes himself known, albeit you don’t look back at him, you keep admiring Rhaenyra and Robb falling asleep in your arms. “It’s time to go love.”

You begin rocking your body gently to make them fall asleep faster, ignoring Jon’s approaching footsteps.

“They’re falling asleep,” you whisper. “I just fed them.”

Jon’s hand presses on your back and slowly slides it around your shoulders as he crouches down by you to admire the twins as well. One last time before you left.

“I think they know we’re leaving,” you mention and look at him with a smile. “They’ve barely slept all day today.”

Jon hums and reaches out to caress Robb’s chunky cheek. “We’ll see them again,” he assures you so it can make your departure easier. “I promise.” He then slides his hand up to cup your cheek and tilts your head to the side so you can meet his gaze. “They’re waiting, come on. Before it gets harder.”

You draw in a deep breath and look down at them again, they weren’t in deep sleep, but their eyes are closed now, and Jon is right. So you get up and approach the wooden cradle that has your new family sigil carefully carved on the wood; the three headed dragon wrapped around the sun with a spear stabbed through it. They share it for now since they’re still not used to being apart from each other. You tried to sleep them in different ones but they cried all night until you figured out the solution.

“Here,” Jon whispers and picks up the dragon eggs off their warming chamber and places the sapphire blue colored egg to the right where you put Rhaenyra down, and he then places the silver colored egg on the left side where you place Robb.

Before you pull away from them you caress their cheeks one more time before you lean in and press a soft kiss on their heads. “I love you my babies,” you whisper in a quivering voice before you force yourself away from them.

Jon then proceeds to lean in and press a gentle kiss on their heads before he digs in his pocket and pulls out a small pouch. You watch him carefully and notice him pull out thin silver necklaces with a pendant that has a direwolf engraved on it.

“It’s made of Valyrian steel,” he whispers and clasps it around their necks. “A gift…for just in case.”

You drop your head and wipe away the tears that he made break from your eyes.

“We’ll be back,” he whispers to the sleeping twins. “Before you know it.”

You clutch onto your chest and turn away so you wouldn’t sob there. Jon then approaches you and grabs your shoulder to turn you to face him. “Are you ready?” He asks.

You glance down at your silver armor protecting your chest, and catch the red rubies that are in the shape of your new house sigil shine against the candle's light, and then look at him and nod. “I am. You?”

Jon glances behind you and hesitates before he nods. “I am. It’s just…hard, you know? I don’t want to leave our children without their parents, I want to be there for them.”

You wrap your hand around his and use your other hand to cup his cheek. “And you will. I promise you you will.”

Jon smiles softly at you before he presses his forehead against yours. “We’ll both come back to them. I swear. War won’t be what breaks us apart.”

You muster a soft smile and close your eyes. “Promise me you won’t leave me alone in this world.”

“I won’t,” Jon whispers before he pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss. You melt into it, you pull him closer as much as he can be against you, and feel tears roll down your cheeks. When you pull away he wipes the tears off your cheeks and flashes you smile. “I love you,” he says. “From this day until the end of my days.”

“I love you too,” you say back without hesitation. “From this day until the end of my days.”

Jon’s smile widens and he lets his hands linger on your cheeks for a moment until a knock raps on your door.

You hesitate to address the visitor, but you can’t stay here and delay this final battle.

“Come in,” you break your silence as you pull away from Jon.

Sarella then walks in with a sheathed spear and other sheathed weapons. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just wanted to let you know that your blades are coated and prepared.”

You offer her a stiff nod and walk to her under the doorframe. “Good, thank you Sarella.” You whisper while you grab your weapons from her and tie the sheaths on you. “Take good care of them all right?”

Sarella grabs your hands and offers you an assuring nod. “Of course I will, as if they were my own. You have nothing to worry about.”

You sigh. “If anything happens the three Queensguard I left behind will take them back North with Lady Sansa,” you let her know. “Accompany them the way there.”

Sarella nods and then wraps her arms around your neck, catching you by surprise. Albeit you don’t wait to hug her back.

“Kill all those bastards.” She says by your ear.

You smirk and nod before you pull away and assure her. “I will.”

Sarella shoots you one last smirk before you leave the room with Jon by your side.

“I need to make something known,” you break your silence. “When we face Gendry, I need you to swear to me you won’t stop me from killing him.” You look over at him and see his eyebrows begin to furrow with discontent. “Arya nor Ser Davos can either. I know how much you all care for him, but if I let him live, the life of our kids, my own life and yours will always be in danger because they’d want him sat on that throne. And they’d do anything to make it happen.”

Jon sighs before he meets your gaze without judgment, he’s expressing sincerity and determination. “I swear,” he assures you.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

The dream is still recurring, that same dream of those two cradles in the destroyed throne room of King's Landing. The sigils carved on the wood are still clear in your head, your new sigil on one, and the old Targaryen sigil; Daenerys sigil, on the other cradle. You still can’t see what’s inside the cradle even if the cries of babies echo in the hall.

Albeit now there’s no fire that starts around you, there’s no blunt ending to it, there’s no need for more. It ends just as you see inside and you know you’re happy and satisfied.

Yet how can you feel satisfied when you can’t find the meaning and it haunts you everytime you sleep?

Does it mean you’ll win this war?

That you’ll live and get to see Rhaenyra and Robb again? Hopefully that’s the meaning, you’d be happy if that’s what it means.

Regardless, that dream has nothing to do with right now. Right now you have to worry about winning this battle and sitting on that throne. Right now, you cut your palms and watch the blood drip from them to then wipe that blood down your face to remind you of your reasons why you fight, why you’re risking your life and that of the others. For Rhaenar. For justice. Vengeance. For fire and blood.

Your uncle Doran said not to let vengeance cloud your judgment, Jon said not to let anger cloud your judgment. But what they don’t know is that anger and vengeance has finally cleared your mind. Because of it you finally see the goal you were blinded to before, that that throne belongs to you.

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne’s voice filters in through your tent.

You pull away from the mirror and wipe away the tear that had broken out before you bandage your cuts, and address the loyal knight. “Yes, come in.”

The flaps get pushed aside and Ser Brienne's tall figure casts over you. “Prince Gendry Baratheon is approaching, he wants to talk to you.”

You lift your gaze to meet hers and smirk. “He’s eager,” you comment and push yourself off the chair to follow her out.

Ser Lana hands you your spear as she and Ser Rayne, Ser Alys, Ser Brienne, and Sansa follow you out.

“Still nothing from the Westerlands?” You ask Sansa as you sheath your spear.

Sansa shakes her head. “No. But you know how they are, they’re waiting for the moment either side is winning. As long as they don’t attack us they’re nothing to worry about.”

You nod softly in agreement and turn your head completely to the aide to look at her as you ask your next question. “What of Prince Mors and the fleet?”

Sansa slowly meets your gaze, knowing your teasing insinuation behind your question. “He’s started his battle against the Iron Islands fleet, and that of the Second Sons. He’s…alive. He’s fighting well…so I’ve been told.”

You smirk and look ahead again. “Once this is done I’ll fling you two together and lock you in a closet.” You snicker. “Or I’ll demand something to happen. I will be Queen after all.” You steal a glance at Sansa, and see her smirk at the ground before she looks at you with a serious glare.

“Focus,” she deadpans. Albeit you see her hidden smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” you drop the subject. “Now, take care of yourself Sansa, I’ll see you once it’s all done.” You throw her a wave and don’t take a moment to give her one last hug in case this is your last moment, you can’t face her and say goodbye, you’ll falter and want to leave this battle with her.

“Wait!” She forces you to stop regardless.

You slowly turn around and only see a glimpse of her before she closes the small gap between the two of you with an embrace.

“Be careful out there,” she whispers. “Okay?”

You hug her back gently and nod, “okay,” you whisper. “And please if anything happens to Jon and I, take care of them okay?”

Sansa nods. “I will, but I know you’ll both make it out. I know it.” She assures you.

You pull back quickly so you wouldn't follow her out of battle. “I’ll see you.” You throw out before you turn and walk away.

Once you get past the army line, when you reach the top of the hill just a few clicks away from Kings Landing's gate you see Gendry approaching with an army of Dothraki men behind him.

“Has there been sighting of Drogon?” You ask Ser Alys.

“No, but our scouts say they saw him flying away last night.” Said knight informs you whilst you come to a stop

You then hum and raise your chin to glance at the Red Keep, hoping you’d see Daenerys overlooking the army that surrounds her city, but there’s no one on any balcony.

What if she left? She’d have to care more about her unborn baby now, she wouldn't risk her life here.

“Queen Y/N Targaryen,” Gendry greets with the right title surprisingly enough. “It’s unfortunate that we meet under these circumstances.” He searches the group of woman for Jon you assume, but he’s not amongst them or behind you.

"Where's Jon?” Gendry asks and meets your gaze. “I wish to speak to him.”

You scoff. “You’ll see where he is soon enough,” you counter with a smirk since you don’t want to give away that he's going to attack from behind the castle with Rhaegal to get rid of the army that resides within the walls. You want Gendry to be surprised.

“What do you want?” You ask nonchalantly.

“Peace,” Gendry blurts and takes a step forward, making your knights take a step forward to protect you. “You don’t have to do this, we don’t have to fight. It’s useless. Daenerys is willing to negotiate peace”

You narrow your gaze and suck in your cheeks before you spit at the ground before him. “Fuck her peace. This war means everything to me,” you snap back. “I was willing to give her peace and do you know what she did?” You scoff and shake your head as tears fill your eyes.

“She killed my son. My boy! He was only ten years old, he didn’t do anything, he wasn’t at fault because I fell in love with Jon and made his kids, he was innocent and she killed him!” You cry out. “That may not mean much to you, nor will you ever feel that kind of pain or love for your own kid, but it meant everything to me. He had a whole life ahead of him, he had dreams, he had goals!” You exhale shakily and let your tears stream down to mix with the blood on your face. “He wanted to fly on his own dragon, he wanted to meet his brother and sister, and now it’s all gone like he is. So no, Gendry I won’t accept her peace, we won’t stand down,” you grimace and take a step forward. “We’ll fight, we’ll give our hearts, and I’ll kill you and end the Baratheon line once and for all.” You raise your chin with pride and see him swallow thickly.

You then step back and discreetly reach for one of your daggers rather than raising your spear to give your army the signal that battle has started.

“Tell me where Daenerys is Gendry,” you add and slowly begin to pull out your dagger.

Said man lifts his own chin and remains quiet, making you snicker to stall for Jon to make his move and for you to be able to pull out your dagger. “You know it’s said that your father,” you point at him. “Wore a helmet just like that,” you point up to his silver helmet over his head that has golden stag antlers at the sides. “When he fought my own father. Will you prove to be as legendary of a fighter as your father was? Or will the dragon get its revenge?”

Gendry shrugs. “We’ll see won’t we?” He says a bit smugly, making you smirk in amusement.

Albeit now you do have your dagger in your hand, you can throw it at him now, but you wait. He turns to head back down, but you wait for a second, and a second longer until finally there’s a big boom and battle cries fill the air before debris raides in the air, and there in the distance is the sound of Rhaegal’s booming roar.

Jon broke through the wall! He made the first move, now it’s you. So while Gendry freezes and hears the battle play out in the distance you hurl your dagger at him, intentionally letting the poisoned coated blade just cut his cheek as it flies past him.

He quickly turns in disbelief and touches his cheek to feel the blood that begins to spill out.

You shoot him a mischievous smirk and reach for your spear now. “I drew first blood. Your turn,” you grumble and then snatch your spear from your sheath before you throw your arm in the air to give the signal.

Battle horns then break the silence behind you before thousands of hooves hit the ground like thunder breaking in the sky. Gendry begins to back up, and as he does Eraxis reveals herself to the enemy armies as she comes shooting down from the sky.

Gendry's eyes widen whilst behind him the Dothraki let out battle cries of their own before their horses come sprinting forward, responding back to your own battle call.

However as it all begins to unravel, Gendry doesn’t move, nor does anyone move him or protect him, he lets the warriors behind him begin to run towards your army filled with men and women from the Reach, the North, Dorne, The Vale and The Riverlands. You on the other hand shoot him a malicious smirk as you lower your spear and point the blade at him.

“It’s okay,” you tell your women Knights. “I got him.”

The women hesitantly disperse as the armies meet halfway and start fighting, all while Gendry still doesn’t try to move.

“I won’t fight you,” he says.

You slowly lower your spear and flip it around in your hand as you narrow your gaze on him. “Greyworm didn’t want to fight me either. I still killed him, so choose, die like a warrior or die a coward.”

Before he can answer, nevertheless you charge at him. He catches your action and swings his huge hammer, but you quickly snap your body back and slide down, letting your blade slice the side of his leg as you move past him.

Gendry groans and turns slowly to face you now behind him. He parts his lips to speak, but the sound of a horse charging at you steals your attention, so you proceed to jump out of the way to avoid being cut by a Dothraki.

Before he can turn around and come back for more you pull a dagger out and hurl it at the back of his throat, causing him to immediately go limp and fall off his horse.

He really thought he was going to kill you, how sweet. You caught him though when you were sliding past Gendry.

“It doesn't have to be this way,” Gendry interjects loudly so he can be heard over the sound of battle.

You shake your head. “No,” you agree. “It doesn’t, that’s why I’m fighting down here and not on Eraxis and obliterating everything. Now fight—”

“Our children can grow up together,” he cuts you off, making you hesitate. “If we have a son he can marry your daughter and rule together. There can be peace! Don’t you want that? Don’t you want them to have what we couldn’t? A united family?”

You swallow thickly and think about his offer, you really give it thought. He’s right after all, you want nothing but peace for the twins, you want to be there for them, you want to have more kids, have a big family with Jon. You want to live happily. But, when you close your eyes you see them, every single one of your ancestors has their eyes on you, they’re waiting for you to take back what was lost. They’re waiting for you to win and change what they failed to do. You close your eyes and see Rhaenar’s little face burnt, lifeless and gone because of her.

There can’t be peace.

You let out a deep scream and run at him, just before you can reach him you jump up and try to bring your spear down at him, albeit he lifts his heavy hammer and blocks your attempts. You scoff at him and quickly follow that action by grabbing another dagger and then shifting back to let his arms fall. You don’t let him take a break and quickly spin around him again, managing to slice his ankle and knock him off his feet.

It was easy work really, he’s probably not a trained fighter like you are. And you don’t have an ounce of care for him like some of others do, it’s just killing that’s the problem.

But you have to, or else you’ll die, or else your children will be in danger. So before he can move you hold your spear with both hands and lift it up to bring it down.

However, before the blade can hit him, from the corner of your eye you catch someone pointing an arrow at you, so you snap to the side to face him and throw your spear up in the air to catch it in the right position, before you then hurl it at the dothraki warrior when he shoots his arrow. But unlike yours, his arrow only skims past the side of your head managing to nick your flesh, while your spear impales him in his chest and knocks him off his horse.

Now back to Gendry.

Yet when you turn to face where he was on the ground he’s no longer there, just drops of blood staining the dirt.

You sigh and try to look through the crowd but the sight of running bodies, of horses and clanging blades blocks your view. All you can see is his trail of blood leading towards the wall gates.

“Fine,” you grumble and turn to pick up your spear. “I’ll play.” You roll your head around to crack your neck whilst you stride towards the spear impaled through the man.

Nevertheless, just before you can reach your weapon another Dothraki warrior comes charging at you, he’s screaming at the top of lungs and jumps on top of his horse. You stumble back and pull out your last dagger, you clench your jaw and hold his intimidating gaze. You get ready to face him even if he has the high ground.

Luckily though just before his blade can come down, a leather whip wraps around his throat and yanks him off his horse. You gasp and don’t pay attention to the horse getting run over by another horse nearby, you move past the violent scene and then notice that Ser Alys was the one that helped you.

“Thank you!” You throw at her and pick your spear off the other mans body.

Said woman bows her head. “Of course, You Grace! What next?” She asks.

“I find Gendry, he ran past the walls I assume. Help me get past this battlefield.” You tell her honestly and glance up at Eraxis in the sky, wishing you could climb on her to reach your destination, but your own soldiers are mixed here so she’d squish them if she lands. So on horse or foot it is, she can follow.

“Right away!” Ser Alys agrees, and ends up quickly finding horses you can mount to reach your destination faster.

Albeit it’s getting past the Dothraki soldiers that’s the problem. They see you and try to attack you, and you’re not used to fighting on horseback as much as they are, but you try your best to block their attempts. You kill some others, cut the arms off others. You bathe yourself in their blood, adding to the intimidation around you.

Thankfully though, after some struggle, and thanks to Ser Alys help you get past the battlefield of fighting warriors, and sea of dead bodies piling around.

“Here is as far as you go,” you tell Ser Alys as you jump off your horse. “This fight is mine and mine alone.”

“But,” she argues. “I won’t leave you. You are my Queen. If you die what becomes of me?”

You stop walking and turn to face her. “I won’t die. But if you must, get rid of any obstacles ahead, Ser Brienne should already be ahead, Eraxis will help you clear a path to the Red Keep regardless. Remember don’t harm any civilians. I’ll catch up when I’m done.”

Ser Alys hesitates, but listens nonetheless, letting you get back to the trail of blood that you have been following. Sure now it can be anyone’s, but when you were fighting the Dothraki you did catch a glimpse of Gendry running this way. He also won’t get very far considering the poison running its course, he’ll be nearby, so you stalk forward like a hungry predator.

“Prince Gendry,” you taunt him. “Come out, I bet you want to talk to me.” You flip your spear around in your hand to let your blade drag on the dirt whilst you study the street you walk down, spotting a trail of blood going towards a nearby market, so you follow it.

You open the tents flaps and see it unoccupied, thankfully. But he’s nearby, so you slow down your pace to be quieter and hopefully surprise him.

However, just as you turn to walk to another part of the tent suddenly something hard slams into the back of your leg, causing something to snap in your leg that basks your entire leg in an obliterating pain. You cry out and fall on your knees, but that only makes the pain intensify to the point you can’t stand being on your knees, so you flip around to sit and stretch your legs out.

That’s when you see that a part of your bone is sticking out. It’s broken….

“I’m sorry,” you hear a familiar voice interject.

You snap your eyes up and see Gendry approaching you with his hammer in hand. You want to drag yourself back, but it hurts too damn much to move, you have to snap your bone back in place.

“Let me help—”

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you sneer and don’t hesitate to slam your hands on the bone sticking out to snap it back in place. You cry out even if you don’t want to, and then drop your head to let your tears out.

Gendry in the meantime is cautiously approaching you, you can hear his boots hit against the ground.

“You’re not going to ask me what’s happening to you?” You ask in a hoarse voice and slowly take a peek up at him, noticing the blood coming out of his nose and ears. “Why your veins are on fire? Why blood is coming out of your ears?” You add and shoot him a smirk whilst you reach for your spear beside you.

“Look,” he ignores you even if you guessed exactly what he was feeling. “I don’t want to kill you.”

You begin to chuckle and roll your head up, causing him to blink repeatedly in surprise as he sees the blood that cakes your face and bathes your armor, and that turns your silver-white hair crimson red.

“That’s funny,” you counter and completely grasp your spear before you shove yourself to your feet and charge at him.

Albeit Gendry is quick and avoids your lunge, instead he grabs you by your throat and begins to shove you back out of the tent.

The pain on your leg burns the entire time, he makes it feel worse as he drags you out, but you have to ignore it now, you have run on your adrenaline so as to not let the pain affect you. However, he then proceeds to shove you to the ground and climbs onto you, stabbing his knee in your wounded leg and bringing you more agony.

Before you can scream this time he presses the stick end of his hammer against your throat, cutting off the air that comes into your lungs.

“I won’t kill you,” he makes himself clear. You try to scoff in amusement, but all that comes out is a strangled choking sound.

Now he might not want to kill you, but as every second passes you feel your consciousness slip, and if you fall now then you can’t reach Daenerys, you might lose this battle. So with all the strength you can muster you pat the ground, finding a good sized rock, and then proceed to throw your hand up and stab the rock in his eye.

Gendry bellows out, and immediately lets you go to get on his feet and grab at his eye pouring out blood.

You proceed to ignore your pain and grab the hammer he left over you to push yourself up. The pain threatens to weaken you, but you stay on your feet, you fix your grip on the hammer since you dropped your spear in the tent, and raise it.

Gendry notices and you raise your chin. “This is for my father,” you spat out, and use as much force as you can muster to swing the hammer across his chest, knocking him down to the ground at that very moment.

You may have no respect for your father, but he still is your father. He still did love you when you did have him, and you loved him unconditionally before Robert Baratheon robbed him of his life, before your uncle Oberyn told you the truth—poisoned your mind and memories.

“I’m sorry,” you tell Gendry with sincerity as you approach him unable to grasp onto air, as blood begins to stream out of his eyes like tears as the poison also brings him closer to death. “But if I kept you alive my family would never be safe. Life would repeat itself, and I’ve already lost too much…” you pause as wings flapping close by steals your attention. When you look up you see Eraxis wanting to land ahead of you.

“For whatever it’s worth,” you say and crouch by Gendry. “You were a good man. Better than the beast your father was. May you find peace Gendry Baratheon.” You stay there beside him and watch him take his last shaky breath before his eyes roll back and he goes limp.

“Y/N?!” Your name is then called ahead.

You look up and see Eraxis hover over the ground as Arya approaches all covered in blood. Just what you needed—albeit it is too late for her to even talk to him now.

“Arya,” you call back and stand up to your feet.

Said girl's eyes lower to the body beside you and she goes rigged, making you avert your gaze and instead go back inside the tent to pick up your spear. When you come back outside you see her by his lifeless body hovering her hand over his wounded eye, and then lowering to his chest that was encaved. In the distance Eraxis lands on the ground, and since it hurts walking you have to ride her.

“I’m sorry,” you mutter softly to her as you see tears escaping her eyes. “I’m sorry,” you repeat before you break away from the spot and limp towards Eraxis.

Once you’re by your white dragon you steal one last glance, noticing her still by Gendry's side. There was nothing else you could say, Sansa said Arya knew him, that they lay together, they have history, and you were the cause of his death, so there’s nothing to say to comfort her. So instead you slowly climb on Eraxis and now fly towards the Red Keep, towards Daenerys.

Will you kill her with as much ease like with Gendry?

Not now of course, you’ll wait until her baby is born, show her that you were being serious about the threat, a son for a son before you also kill her.

You’ll probably struggle to kill her but she did kill Rhaenar, she has to pay. You’ll make her pay.

Nevertheless, while on your way to the castle you can see the empty streets Arya helped clear so there wouldn’t be any civilian casualties, you can see the battle at the back of the castle Jon started. You can see Rhaegal resting by the castle, letting you think that maybe Jon is fighting with your men below; or inside the castle already. And In the distance, out at sea you can see the fleets battling, you cant see who’s winning from here though.

Another thing you can’t see is Drogon. Where did he go?

Is Daenerys with him?

Regardless you’ll check.

Thus why you have Eraxis land inside the castle, on the steps that lead inside the castle that was once your home, that was the place your mother and siblings died in. The Red Keep.

You’ve been here before since the tragedy, you walked past the gates like now, albeit then it was lively, it was decorated with Baratheon banners, people came and went out for the wedding, you blended in with the crowd. Now as you walk in the hall is empty, it’s cold and dark, it’s deafeningly quiet. Are there even guards?

You walk further inside and notice that the rubble was picked up from when Daenerys destroyed the castle. It also seems like they’re trying to rebuild it, but since you’re here now it’s put on pause.

You then proceed to head to Maegor’s holdfast, knowing well that that’s where Daenerys would take residence. And surprisingly enough, there’s hardly any guards. Those who did seem to be inside were outside trying to stop Jon and his army from getting in, but it was too late, the wall was still not fixed completely, and what was fixed Rhaegal broke. Those few guards that were inside you evaded, there was only one you had to kill but it was done fast and quietly, luckily.

However, as grateful as you are that you don’t run into any more difficult obstacles, it’s not a good sign. Perhaps it’s a sign to leave and finish the battle since the retreat nor the surrender bells are ringing, but if she’s still here you have to find her. You’re so close. Fuck the pain.

Alas, when you reach the hall, it’s empty, there’s no guards anywhere. The hall is cold since the cold breeze creeps in through the open windows. You expect Daario Nahris to be here to protect Daenerys and the unborn child, but it’s too quiet. No one’s here….

Still! You continue to search desperately, you check each room again and again. You check the massive closets, every corner and secret door, but there’s no one, there’s only clothes left behind; her clothes that probably don't fit anymore. She’s the only one missing. Fuck,

“Fuck!” You exclaim and throw off the perfumes and glass containers on a vanity out of anger. “She’s not here,” you mutter to yourself. She’s gone!

At least her husband is dead now, so if she isn’t here then the battle should end soon, leaving you to do one thing now that you are here in Maegor's holdfast. The tower may be different from when you lived here, but the walls are still the same, the ground is unchanged, the halls still hold memories. So with your limp and pain, you drag yourself to the hall you once lived in.

Last time, a couple years ago you couldn’t come here, you were a mere guest undercover, but now you’re here in the same hall, your home. It doesn’t hold the same sweet scent as before, the halls aren’t brightly lit for you and your sister, but as you close your eyes you can still picture the good days, you can imagine your mother; fragile but sweet and loving. You can see Rhaenys chasing after you, you can see your fathers bright and long white-silver hair, you can hear him softly playing his music for your family.

This. This is your home. This is where you belonged, this is where you were meant to die before you could even truly live. Here. You’re home.

When you open the door that leads to where you last saw your mother, you wish to see her still there, helping Rhaenys read. You want her to look up to see you walk inside, you want her to greet you. You want to see her again, but all you see is an empty room, there’s dusty furniture, and all that greets you is the sound of bells beginning to sound in the distance; the sound of retreat. Their retreat.

Yet you can’t get up and celebrate, you can’t smile, you just fall on your knees and begin to sob as you’re embraced by the cold breeze and welcomed by ghosts. Your leg begins to hurt so you have to turn and sit down.

You don’t know how long you do end up staying there, the bells stop ringing at one point, but you stay there remembering and crying as you’re striked with agony.

A few more minutes pass of you all alone in the cold room before you hear Jon’s voice out in the hall. “Y/N?”

You lift your head and bring his attention to this room. “I’m in here.”

Footsteps shift before they hurry over to the room, as the door begins to open you see guards stepping in before Jon hurries inside to where you are on the floor. And before either of you can say anything you both embrace each other, finding relief in each other's presence even as dirty as you are.

“You’re okay,” you whisper and hold the back of his head. “You’re okay,” you whimper.

Jon lowers his head and digs his face in the crook of your neck. “I was so worried,” he muffles. “I couldn’t find you.” He pulls back and wipes the blood off your eyes. “I’ve been looking for you,” he says.

You reach over to cup his jaw and study his face for any wounds, but there’s only blood staining his skin. “Are you okay?” You ask him softly.

Jon grabs your wrists and nods. “Yes. Are you? What are you doing on the floor?”

You part your lips to explain the simple reason; you came here for Daenerys, you’re in this room because you wanted to remember, but tears just spill out and clear a path on your face caked with blood.

“I,” you stammer shakily. “I was meant to die here Jon. I was here and then that stupid cat distracted me. I never saw my mother again, Rhaenys, baby Aegon. I chased after the cat and never saw them again.”

“It was for a reason,” he assures you. “You’re here now for this. This very moment. They retreated, they’re leaving, it’s time for you to get on that throne, be what you were meant to be.”

You lift your gaze and meet his eyes. “You really believe that?” You ask. “Daenerys is gone, but she’s still alive. The war isn’t over yet.”

Jon shakes his head. “No, the war isn’t, but the fighting is done. Without the capital, or allies, Daenerys is done, she lost. Now it’s up to you. This fighting can’t be for nothing. You avoiding death that day happened for a reason, don’t you see it? I know it hurts. I know, my love. But we get to be safe with our children now, you can keep them safe and avoid them having the same fate you did.”

You scoff softly and offer him a sweet smile. “I’ve never heard you talk like that. You believe in fate?”

Jon blinks and shrugs. “I rose from the dead, I had nothing before, but after that I got everything I could have wanted. You, the twins. If that’s not fate then I don’t know what is.”

You smile wider and press your forehead agaisnt his. “You’ll rule with me then? Help me? Make this a good place for our kids? For…people who need help from the horrors of this world? So they don’t have to suffer the same way our family did? Because if you don’t want this we can leave this all behind. We leave now, we pick up the kids and leave.”

Jon nods softly. “I’ll follow you until the ends of this world. I will help you.”

Your heart flutters and your grin widens. “Good,” you whisper and then glance at your leg. “But help me up, I broke my leg.”

Jon pulls back and stares at you with a shocked expression, but you assure him. “It’s okay. That’s all that happened.”

He hesitates, but he then gets guards to help you with your leg before he helps you to your feet. And now since that adrenaline that once pumped in your blood has faded the pain is a lot more immense, now you need Jon by your side to help you walk.

This time though, rather than seeing empty halls once you reach the grande hall, there’s people, your people all bloody bruised but filtering inside slowly. The civilians once warned to hide or evacuate before and during the battle wander inside as well, slowly and cautiously. The once dark halls are slowly getting lit by candles and torches alongside the hall, and Daenerys banners get replaced by your new house banners.

“How many of our people were lost?” You ask Jon.

“We can discuss that later,” Jon says and glances at the open doors that lead to the throne room. “As for now, it’s time.”

You come to a stop to meet his gaze and smile softly. “Will you help me down there?” You ask him.

The corner of Jon’s lips tug to a smile before he offers you an assuring nod.

Now all that follows is the ascension. It seems like a long walk down to the throne, but you’re determined. It hurts to keep moving, but the throne is down the grande hall still filled with gaps on the walls from the last attack, the throne that was meant for your father, the throne built by your ancestors, your throne.

“All hail Queen Visenya, of House Targaryen, second of her name, Queen of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm!”

The murmuring goes quiet, and feet shift and shuffle as bodies turn to see you. There’s so many times as you walk down the carpet that you want to duck your head and avoid the stares of both your soldiers and the civilians that fill the hall, but they can’t see you embarrassed, they need to see you strong, so you raise your chin high and keep your lips upturned.

Besides as you get closer, Eraxis and Rhaegal appear outside the castle walls and land in behind the gaps that look inside the throne room. Some people get frightened by the presence of the green and white dragon, but they don’t leave, they watch you as Jon lets you go so you can climb the stairs.

However, you then come to a stop before you can climb up, and stare at the throne made of blades of fallen enemies with tears in your eyes. “This is for you Rhaenar,” you murmur. “This is for all of you.” You let out a shaky sigh and smile down at your rings on your fingers. You then peer back and notice Sansa beside your cousin Prince Mors, she meets your gaze and shoots you an encouraging smile.

You mirror her gesture before you face the glimmering metal throne again and continue to walk to it. It takes you a moment to reach the throne, but once you do Eraxis leans her head in through the gap and groans softly, as if comforting you. You look over at her and meet her dark eyes to shoot her a smile before you touch the cool metal and admire the grand design in awe.

This is for them, your family. All of them.

You finally turn to face the crowd and finally sit down on the Iron Throne.

“All Hail her grace!”Jon exclaims.

“Long live the Queen!”

“Long live the Queen!”

You draw in a deep breath, and raise your chin smugly before you exhale and raise your hand to silence the crowd. Once the commotion silences you put your hand down and interject. “Let’s begin.”

——

*A COUPLE MONTHS LATER*

“Where’s your mummy?” You ask in a playful baby voice and peek through the gaps between your fingers, noticing Robb is serious now as he sees your hands over your eyes. “I’m here!” You exclaim softly and pull your hands off your face with a grin, causing the baby boy to blink in surprise before he starts giggling.

Your smile widens at the sound of his giggle, and then a knock raps on the door.

“Come in,” you announce and pick Robb off the bed to carry him instead. “Do you want to go find your daddy and your sister?” You ask Robb as if he can answer you at 4 months old.

“Your Grace,” you hear Ser Brienne say, making you turn to face her standing by the foot of the bed. “I have news.”

Your smile fades as you see how serious her expression is painted on her features, and probe quietly. “What is it?”

Ser Brienne blinks and sighs. “It’s Daenerys. We finally found out where she is.”

The amusement you just felt gets replaced with shock and disbelief over the news. Finally after months of not hearing about her, of not getting attacked by fire from the sky, or of being attacked by what remains of her army, they've found her. Now it’s time to finish your revenge, it’s time for Rhaenar to get justice.

“Good,” you mutter and walk to Ser Brienne. “Where? Is she at Meereen?”

Ser Brienne shakes her head and shares that Daenerys is hiding in Dorne, hidden past any town that would give her away, where Drogon can hide without being spotted, and where she can rest and wait for her child to be born. You should’ve known.

If she would’ve made it to Meereen someone would have told you, maybe she even would have even wanted to negotiate peace again, but there was not a word from her or about her and her army for months. She wasn’t at Dragonstone, nor at the Iron Islands, it’s like she disappeared. Until now.

And maybe hiding was for the best, you would have too if you were in her position. Yet the truth is nothing would have stopped you from searching for her, not becoming Queen officially, you would have searched for her until the ends of the world for your revenge. Now that she’s been revealed she’ll know what your revenge is, she’ll know the same pain you feel, the ache that still breaks your heart every single day.

“Mummy will be right back, okay?” You tell Robb as you play him in his cradle. “Your sister should join you soon.” You press a kiss on the top of his head and then brush his little black hairs down before you step back and turn to stride out of the room, even as he begins to cry because you’re out of his sight.

However, you don’t make it far out of the castle before you spot Jon, and Rhaenyra in his arms as they seem to be heading to the kids' chambers. “Hello my loves,” you greet them and lean in to press a kiss on Rhaenyra’s forehead before you give Jon a kiss on his lips.

“Eraxis and I are leaving. I’ll be back before Dinner.” You let Jon know as you pull back and caress his chin.

Jon’s gaze narrows in confusion. “Where are you going?” He asks since youre being vague, and you haven’t asked him to go with you.

You draw in a deep breath, knowing how he’ll react. “I’m…” you breathe out. “I'm going to Daenerys. They’ve found her in Dorne. I’m ending this war.” You caress your babygirl's cheek once more before you break away.

Nevertheless before you can continue to walk away, Jon’s hand wraps around your arm, forcing you to stop and look back at him curiously.

“You promised,” he says in a serious voice and with a deep narrowed gaze that makes you uneasy. “You promised you wouldn't hurt that baby. Blame Daenerys all you want, burn what remains of her army, but don’t hurt that baby.”

You could say thousands of reasons why you should, he’d understand now after all; he’s holding onto one of his twins that loves them with all his heart. He’d understand why Daenerys' kid has to get what it deserves, but you know him, you know his morality, Jon won’t understand, and you love him too much to see him go. So you lie.

“I would never do that,” you interject bluntly as you gently push his hand away from your wrist to continue outside towards Eraxis.

This time there’s no more stops, you reach your beautiful white scaled dragon and mount her to then ascend to the skies. You fly over green lands, through a small storm that soaks you entirely. You fly through white fluffy clouds that make you raise your hand to run your fingers through it, and smile. You feel the breeze turn dry the closer you get to Dorne; and the once green fields slowly begin to transcend to golden fields of sand.

Where Daenerys was spotted isn’t deep in Dorne, it’s passing Kingsgrave, just close to the center between that and Sandstone. The castle isn’t as big as you imagined either, it’s a small castle, only two stories high and with a pool in the center of the castle, making the castle stand out from the sky. Trees provide shade all around the castle, and there’s only a few Dothraki tents outside around the castle.

The strangest thing is that they don’t make any commotion. Drogon is resting by the side of the castle and doesn’t pay Eraxis any mind, he doesn’t attack either, letting Eraxis land with ease that begins to concern you. When your feet hit the ground you aren’t rushed by an army even if you have visible daggers hanging from your hips. It’s only once you reach the red doors that lead inside the beautiful vibrant castle that you get stopped by a couple of Dothraki men.

“<Turn back and return home, Dragonslayer,>” one of the men says in Dothrak.

You scoff and get ready to argue, but then a voice cuts in from inside. “<Let her in, the Queen demands it.>” Footsteps approach, and Daario Nahris appears out of the shadows with his eyes red and glistening with tears, with no armor on his body; instead his long sleeved shirt is baggy and stained with sweat, his sleeves are rolled and his hands are stained with spots of dry blood.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” he directs at you as he comes to a stop under the red door frame. “She’s…in there…waiting for you.” He points back inside, making you glance at where he points, spotting white sheer curtains flowing inside thanks to the soft wind.

“I want to talk to her alone,” you demand and meet his watery gaze.

Daario nods stiffly. “She is alone. You made sure of that.”

You blink unfazed by his comment. “You’re still here,” you counter and look at him up and down with judgment before you walk past him.

“Upstairs to the right, red door.”

You hum as you turn to walk up the stairs already. And as it’s you’re walking up is when you take the time to study the hall, to admire the tall ceilings that have pretty blue designs on it. You notice the greenery that drapes down the railings, and the gold design that wraps around the archway that leads to the courtyard. It’s all so simple and pretty, relaxing. If you didn’t come here for a purpose, you would enjoy it here.

But you have a purpose that’s fueled by rage and grief. The closer you get to the room the more that concern vanishes to nothing. Your cautious walk as you reach the second floor turns to a determined stride. You only pause for one second when a baby’s cry breaks the silence that haunted this castle.

“There you are,” you mutter to yourself, and draw in a deep breath before you break away from your spot and exhale as you continue to the room with the red door.

Once you reach the door you don’t knock you slowly open it, and the first thing that greets you is a maester and midwives.

“Get out,“ you demand coldly as you step inside the room.

“Y/N,” you hear Daenerys mutter, but you ignore her call and shift your eyes around the room until you spot a single cradle in the corner of the room.

There it is.

The maesters and midwives filter out, leaving Daenerys and you alone to dwell in a tense silence, letting you eyes lock on the cradle. Letting your mind think of nothing else but your craving for revenge, not even Daenerys laying on her bed, just blood. Rhaenar.

As you stalk towards the wooden cradle you pull out a silver dagger and feel your heart begin to race violently.

Bah-dum, bah-dum, bah-dum, bah-dum.

Daenerys says something as she spots your intention, as she sees the rage in your gleaming glare, but her voice gets tuned out as memories of Rhaenar play in your head; both when he was alive and when you saw his dead body. They let you raise the blade in your hand as you’re inches away from seeing what the cradle holds.

However, you pause as you spot the sigil carved on the end of the cradle. It’s the same one you saw in your dream, and actually now that you’ve see that you notice that it’s on the same cradle from your dream too.

But it can’t mean anything. It doesn’t. Not when you’re so close. So you push that to the back of your mind and take a few more steps until you finally reach the side of the cradle and see the small baby inside wide awake, squirming away.

It seems to spot you and stops to stare at you with its big green eyes. It meets your gaze and you hesitate, but it’s only for a moment because you remember Rhaenar too, you remember when he was that small, you remember what he dreamed of doing when he got older. You remember how excited he was to be bonded with Helios. You remember your son and you raise the blade with tears clouding your eyes.

You raise the dagger and swing it down as you begin to sob. But then, before the blade can even touch the baby, you stop as there in the reflection of the silver blade you see his face, Rhaenar. He’s looking at you with his sweet brown eyes with tears, and he’s shaking his head at you.

Whether it’s some apparition of him, or just your own mind and guilt playing tricks, the reality of what you wanted to do to that baby slams into you roughly. It makes your hand holding the blade shake, and for that anger that poisoned you to completely disappear.

You won’t regret the war you started, no, but it’s this action you almost committed that you do feel ashamed of. What fault does this baby have? He didn’t kill Rhaenar, he’s barely living.

Were you really going to become the same monster that took away your siblings? The same monster you spent your whole life fearing?

No, you cant. You can’t be that person. So you drop the blade and silence your sob so as to not startle the baby any further.

Besides, there’s something familiar about the baby, like if you’ve seen him before…in a dream.

Of course in your dreams all you saw was two cradles, one with your new house sigil carved on it, and the other with the old Targaryen sigil. And this cradle was the exact same one from the dream, this is what the dream means. This baby.

“Daeron,” Daenerys voice finally finds its way inside your ears. “His name is Daeron Targaryen.”

You wipe the tears away and smile softly at the baby as you reach in to pick him up. “Daeron is a perfect name for a little prince. Hello,” you mewl. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I scared you…I’m sorry,” you say again and this time turn your head to glance at Daenerys laying on the bed.

That’s when you notice how exhausted she looks, how much paler her skin is; she looks almost sickly.

“I was being stupid,” you continue to say and approach her with her baby boy. “Forgive me please. I was angry, I was missing him,” you cry as tears fall from your eyes.

Daenerys shakes her head. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she says softly while she watches you take a seat beside her. “I should be the one apologizing to you…” she pauses and lets out a shaky and labored breath that makes your heart slowly begin to sink—“it was because of me that your son was taken from you. It was because of me that our family broke apart. I…I lost my way,” she shares in a shaky voice. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

You part your lips and stare at her in disbelief. You’ve heard her be sincere before, she’s been vulnerable with you before, but this time it feels different, she sounds desperate.

“Y/N,” She insists and grabs your hand with pressure. “Say you’ll forgive me. I can’t—I need to hear it.”

Ah. Now you know. You’ve figured it out; why she looks so sad and sickly, why she hasn't counter-attacked for what you did to Gendry and what you took, why her army of Second Sons or Unsullied isn’t with her anymore…yet you can’t accept that truth.

“We’ll have all the time in the world to make up for what we did to each other,” you try to deny the cruel truth of what’s happening. “I’ll grant you forgiveness, you can live here in your house with the red door. Our babies can grow up with each other. Daenerys,” you whisper shakily.

Said woman begins to cry, but she still musters a soft smile. “That’s all I want for him. I want him to have a good life….with you and your twins.” She grins. “I want you to raise them together, like family.”

You shake your head. “Dany, you’ll be here. You’ll get out of this bed and watch him grow up,” you argue, and hand her her son to then cradle her cheek and continue to insist what won’t happen anymore. “You’ll be a great mother.”

Daenerys glances down at her baby and her smile wobbles. “Thank you for giving me this blessing. Whatever the intent was behind what you did, still thank you. Because of you I got to have him, my Daeron. I love him, y/n, please take care of him, raise him as your own. Love him as I would.” She lifts her watery gaze to look at you and plead. “Please say you will. I don’t have much time, I won’t have the pleasure of seeing him grow up. So please assure me before I go that…that you’ll take him. Please.”

You lean your forehead against hers and nod. “I swear,” you assure her.

.

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Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #chapter 16 #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x fem!reader #Jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #jon snow fic #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #got #got fanfiction #got fanfic #daenerys targaryen #gendry baratheon #ser Brienne #Sansa stark #arya x gendry

[damn-stark]

Chapter 17 When you believe

Chapter 17 of Sandstorm

A/N- Practice did them good, that’s all I’m saying ;)

Warning- Swearing, FLUFF, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*15 YEARS LATER*

“Your Grace,” he bows his head and then slowly drifts his gaze to your left side and parts his lips but doesn’t say anything, as if debating whether to acknowledge who stands by your throne. “…Princess,” he finally adds and straightens up.

You draw out an exhausted breath and press the man. “State your business, Lord Umber.”

The old man slides the hat off his head and clutches it in front of him as he holds your gaze. “I am sorry for the disturbance, My Queen, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s the Wildlings, they’ve—”

“Freefolk,” the young girl at your left side cuts him off to correct him. “If you’ve come here to complain then please address them correctly.”

You can’t help the proud smirk that tugs on your face as you look at your left side to share the gesture with your eldest daughter, and heir, Rhaenyra.

She notices from the corner of her eyes and passes a soft smirk before you’re both forced to listen to the man complain about the Freefolk, as a lot of Northerners often do. You’d think after a decade of the Freefolk being apart of the Kingdoms, the people would stop being so judgemental, but no, they continue to whine.

“The Freefolk,” the man corrects himself. “Summer snow has struck the North, and I know it’s nothing to worry about here, but it is over there. They do nothing but steal like wild ravagers. I want them out of my lands. It’s time the Crown does something about them.”

It’s always the same thing over and over again. It’s fucking annoying.

“Freefolk business is to be dealt with Princess Sansa Stark,” you remind the man of a law that’s been set for 15 years.

The Lord nods and shuffles forward, making sure to be cautious of the swords that align the steps that lead to the Throne. “I have gone to the Princess of the North, but I always end up with the same response that nothing can be done. That’s why I have come here personally.”

You nod and sigh, wanting this to be over, but you just shift in the seat and continue to address his problem. “My Lord, have the Freefolk robbed you personally? Because if they have then it is to be brought with Princess Sansa Stark, there are laws that need to be followed, including them. So if they have robbed you, beaten you, or done any destruction to your lands then please say so.”

The Lord twists his hat and glances at the Lord Hand below the steps, and then at the Grand Maester at the other side and finally meets your gaze again and nods, letting you know all you needed to know, it’s all bullshit.

“They’ve gotten to steal from our flocks,” the man shares. “Every other night, one goes missing or one wakes up all dead and covered in blood. How am I meant to keep my people fed? I want justice.”

Gods.

You sigh and nod softly. “All right, well I’ll write to Princess Sansa Stark, I will tell her to send two Knights to your land and stand guard for a week. If you are right then the Freefolk at fault will face trial, if not then you may rest easy and know it was not them.”

The Lord nods and then bows his head. “Thank you, Your Grace. I know that I will be right.”

You hum and offer the man a tiny smile that lasts until he’s out of the sunlit throne room. “All right,” you sigh and stand up from that hard ass throne. “Well my Lord Hand that is all for today. Thank you.”

The Lord hand bows and takes his leave, letting you turn to Grand Maester Samwell Tarly. “Grand Maester, may you send Princess Sansa a raven and let her know what we’ve discussed here today please.”

The man bows his head. “Of course, right away your Grace.” He then scurries off, letting you walk down the steps and then head to the courtyard with Rhaenyra beside you, and four Queensguard behind you.

“I bet it’s just a pack of wolves getting into his flock,” Rhaenyra interjects when you leave the throne room. “It’s rare now to hear of the Freefolk doing any harm.”

You scoff. “Yes, that’s exactly my thoughts, but you know,” you sigh. “People are still prejudice about the unknown. They’re scared. But the key thing to do in these cases is…” you trail off and let her finish.

“Have patience,” Rhaenyra fills in.

You smile and meet her pretty dark eyes that match Jon’s. “Exactly, even when they cry wolf.”

Rhaenyra tries not to, but she can’t help but giggle.

You grin and look ahead. “Pun very much intended.”

Rhaenyra scoffs; and you know she rolls her eyes.

“Still he came all this way,” Rhaenyra adds. “I wonder how much of his flock is left now. With luck all so he can learn his lesson about whining.”

“With luck,” you retort. “None are dead or else he will come back and give us headaches.”

“I suppose you are right,” Rhaenyra agrees.

“Aren't I always?” You tease.

Rhaenyra stays quiet, causing you to look at her with a playful narrowed glare. She meets your gaze and simply shrugs.

“Father says it’s okay to be wrong,” she counters smugly. “There’s no mistake or shame in it.”

You wrap your arm around her shoulders and shake your head. “But I am your mother and the Queen, I am never wrong. My word is law. Literally.”

Rhaenyra scoffs softly. “Father says even rulers can be wrong.”

You beam at her and press your forehead against hers. “Very good. Your father has taught you well.”

She’s come a long way from being sharp tongued and short tempered. Well some of it still resides within her, but now that she’s been at your side more in your royal duties, she’s started to mature. It both saddens and fills you with joy because you don’t wish her to get any older than she already is, but you also can’t help but feel proud.

“As have you, mother,” she assures you.

You hum softly and then press a kiss on the side of her head before you let go and walk out to the runway that overlooks the training courtyard below. And the moment you walk out you’re welcomed with the sound of metal singing as it clashes against one another, you hear playful training yard squabble, and instructions that come from Jon.

When you approach the railing you stop when you’re above a pair of boys training with swords. You rest your hands against the railing and watch as your son, Ryuu, shove his older brother off his feet with a swift lunge before he spins around him and trips him. He’s only 13, and Jon and Ser Brienne say he’s showing great potential; he’s beaten Jon a couple already in training.

“You’ve frozen up again, young Prince,” Ser Brienne scolds your older son on the ground. “Stop tensing up and watching. Watch and act.”

You lean closer and watch as Ryuu jumps up and down in celebration to his success, making the black curls on his head bounce.

“No celebrating,” Ser Brienne scolds the boy. “Focus.”

Ryuu stops and clears his throat. “Right sorry.” He walks around his brother and offers him his hand. “You did well, Daeron.” He compliments the 15 year old. “Nice switch.”

Daeron sighs and meets his brother's dark eyes that also match Jon’s eye color, and then takes his hand to let his brother help him to his feet.

“Thanks,” Daeron responds with disappointment as he begins to walk back to his spot across from Ryuu.

“You almost got me,” Ryuu counters and twists around to face Daeron. “Almost,” he jokes, with a smirk you know plays on his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Daeron chuckles. “Just pay attention little boy. You won’t get me now.”

You smile at his good sportsmanship and watch as he fixes his grip around his sword's handle. And as if he can sense your gaze, he looks up and his green eyes meet your gaze. He offers you a soft smile that you quickly mirror.

“Good job,” you mouth to him.

Daeron’s smile widens, causing Ryuu to follow his line of gaze and notice you now too.

“Mother, have you come to see me beat Daeron?” He quips with a playful grin.

You shrug. “Maybe I’ve come to challenge you,” you remark.

Ryuu flashes you a grin. “I’d like that.”

You shoot him a wink and push yourself back to continue on, hearing him Ryuu taunt his brother. “I thought you were flirting with a girl for a second, but how can that be when you’re such a mommas boy.”

“Ryuu,” you warn him without looking over at him.

“Mother,” you hear him call back.

Before you can climb down the stairs to join the training yard below you turn to face Rhaenyra. “The business is all done for today, my girl, you may go change and join your siblings if that pleases you.”

Rhaenyra glances down below and watches everyone training for a few seconds before she meets your gaze and interjects. “Actually, may I go out and be with my dragon today?”

You nod without hesitation. “Of course. Go on, soar the skies. Just remember, strap up, and be careful okay?”

Rhaenyra flashes you a smile before she spins around and rushes off to do as she said, letting you turn to hobble down the stairs.

And just as you turn into the training yard you catch your youngest son and child, Aemon, miss the target a few feet ahead of him and hit some weapon rack instead. Because of it his two older sisters watching him begin to laugh.

“Which one of you was a marksman at 8?” You cut them off, catching all of their attention.

“I was,” Edria, your 11 year old daughter, counters smugly.

You scoff softly, and Oraena, the youngest daughter rebuttals her sister that’s only a year older than her. “You still wet your bed at 8.”

Edria gasps and turns her head slowly to face her sister with annoyance, before she leans over and shoves her playfully, making Oraena chuckle before she pushes Edria back. That makes Edria want to hit her arm, but Oraena runs off before she can be touched, making her sister chase after her around the training yard.

“There they go,” you comment under your breath and watch them for a moment before you look at Aemon. “You, my boy are okay,” you assure the sweet boy. “Now hair out of your face, maybe that’s why you’re missing.”

Aemon rolls his eyes, and then holds the bow between his legs to tie his wavy white-silver hair back to a bun that matched Jon’s. After he’s done he faces you and begins to sign with his hands what he wants to say since he can't speak. “Now, can father and I continue?”

You nod. “Go on. Shoot.” You tell him and point the target with your head.

Aemon grabs his bow again and takes an arrow to try again, and while he does you then look at Jon close to Aemon and walk to him with a smile.

The moment you close the gap between one another he grabs you by the back of your neck and gives you a kiss, making you cup his cheeks to deepen the steamy gesture.

“I missed you,” you say between kisses even if you had seen him not so long ago.

Jon smirks. “I missed you too.” He says back and you only move more in sync as if you have never ever kissed one another before.

Honestly as you gotten older you have only grown more passionate about each other…maybe that’s why you have six biological children. And why Aemon was such a surprise when you found out you were with child.

Perhaps if you had gotten together sooner than you’d have more. But then again you’re also glad you don’t have more, raising seven kids is a hassle and a frequent headache.

Regardless, when you pull apart Jon and wipes your lips with his thumb and interrogates you. “How was it?”

You sigh. “You know it was eventful…as always. Lord Umber came.”

Jon blinks in surprise and narrow his gaze. “Lord Umber?” He repeats. “Whatever for?”

“You’ll like this,” you say sarcastically. “He came to complain about the Freefolk.”

Jon rolls his eyes and sighs out of annoyance. “I swear one single Freefolk can pass by minding their business and people complain. When will it end? I can’t imagine how much Sansa has to hear about it.”

You chuckle and nod. “But that’s why she has Mors, he helps her keep level headed.”

Jon smiles softly and nods. “You are right.”

You shoot him a smirk. “I always am. I was right about them.”

Jon scoffs, but before he can say anything back, the sound of a stomping foot steals your attention to Aemon.

“Can you two stop,” he signs with annoyance expressing in his dark eyes. “You can kiss later when I’m not here. It’s gross.”

Jon and you chuckle. “Fine,” you give in. “I’ll go, leave you two men here. Just remember, dragon training later.”

Aemon nods in comprehension before he turns back to focus on his target practice with Jon.

“Just don’t think too much about it,” Jon advises the boy. “And relax your bow arm. Okay?”

You smile in awe as Jon walks to Aemon to help him with his stance, and stand there to watch. A few seconds pass and this time when Aemon shoots he hits the edge of the target.

“Good,” Jon tells the smiling boy. “That’s better.”

You smile wider and linger there watching as Aemon high-fives his father.

Some would say that your relationship with your children shouldn’t be as strong as it, some say only the father should truly bond with their sons, but fuck all that. Jon wants to be close to all his kids, every single one of them, you do too. Others also say that you should send them away, only keep the heir here and have the others be wards or do something else, they especially encourage you to send Daeron away, but your heart can’t bare sending him away, you can’t send any of your kids anyway, besides what can other people teach them that you and Jon can’t?

Besides, you don’t trust anyone else to raise your children. Sure dealing with royal duties and children is difficult, but Jon is a big help, your court helps as well with royal duties, that’s why you have them. You can juggle both things, you enjoy it. And why have a big family if half of them are gone?

That’s why they’re all still here, that’s why you’re close to all of them. Or as close as you can be.

If Rhaenar were still here…the family would have been even bigger, he’d be a grown man with kids of his own….

Tears fill your eyes but you don’t cry, instead you turn away and walk to Daeron and Ryuu, noticing Ryuu lose this time because he was distracted by Samwell Tarly's youngest boy, Jon, passing by.

Daeron also notices that and then looks at you to share a teasing look you mirror. Ryuu only focuses back when you approach Daeron to help him.

“Hand less tense,” you advise him. “And make sure your feet are not so spread apart.” You use your own foot to push his legs closer together. “And…” you trail off and pull his arm closer to him. “There better.”

Daeron takes note of his stance and then looks at you and gives you a thankful nod. “Thank you mother,” he whispers.

You shoot him a smile and stand back. “Go on, show me.” You encourage, but as you watch them match again, you notice the judgmental stares the passerbyers give Daeron. Albeit when they catch you glaring at them they look away and go back to what they were doing.

Sure it’s obvious that Daeron isn’t your kid, nor may he look like a Baratheon like Daenerys wanted everyone to believe. Sure his eyes are green unlike your children’s who all inherited Jon's dark eyes. Daeron may be tall and slim because he resembles his real father, Daario. Sure Daeron doesn’t have that common Targaryen silver hair, but neither does Robb, Ryuu, Edria or Oraena. Yes his nose is aquiline like that of some of your Targaryen ancestors, he has that Targaryen beauty. But that doesn’t make Daeron any less of your child or their prince. Anyone who wants to argue against that can come speak to you and Eraxis. Simple.

“Have either of you seen Robb?” You ask the two boys once they finish their match. “I’m surprised he isn’t here.”

Daeron and Ryuu share a secret look before Daeron shares what he knows. “He’s off brooding somewhere.”

“Yes,” Ryuu bounces off his brother's comment. “He woke up in a very foul mood today. He’s at the cove.”

You hum and nod in comprehension before you part away to go there right away.

After a long walk to the cove behind the castle you find your eldest son, Robb sitting on the sand throwing shells in the water.

“Robb,” you make your presence known, even though you knew he heard you climbing down the stone steps.

Albeit even if you spoke he still doesn’t look back, he drops the shells from his hands and just watches the waves crashing on the shore in front of his boots.

“I didn’t see you with your father and your siblings at the training yard,” you continue as you slowly approach him. “Is everything okay? You like training.”

Robb lets out a deep sigh and drops his head, letting his black hair fall over his eyes. “It’s okay, you wouldn't understand.”

Oh, so we’re at that stage now.

You sigh and stop just behind him to take your shoes off before you sit beside him on the sand. “I can maybe try and understand then,” you press him softly. “Please.”

Robb blinks and keeps his head down, he stays quiet for a few more seconds before he swallows thickly and then interjects quietly. “I…I’m not like you. I’ve tried and I’ve tried to be like everyone else, but no matter how much I try I still fail. I’m…a disappointment. To you and father.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel as if your heart sinks at the sound of his words. “In what way?” You probe and cup the back of his head. “Because all I see is someone who’s trying, someone who’s growing up. You’re still young Robb. You will fail and that’s okay. That’s how we all learn.”

Robb slowly lifts his head and meets your gaze with tears clouding his eyes. “But I don’t have a dragon, mother. Everyone else does, even father. Mine failed to be born to me. How does that look? The Targaryen prince who can’t have the one thing that makes us special?” He shakes his head and pushes your hand off his bead. “While you and father and all my other siblings fly I sit there watching, while you train with your dragons, I continue to sit there!”

You sigh deeply and feel your eyes fill with tears as you remember having a similar conversation with Rhaenar once. “You know,” you mutter and glance out at the crashing blue waves. “One time, before you were born. I had a very similar conversation with your older brother Rhaenar….he was afraid that his dragon egg wouldn’t be born to him because he was only half Targaryen….” You pause and glance down at your hands. “Do you want to know what I told him?”

Robb drifts his gaze to you and hums to press you for more.

You muster a small smile and then meet Robb’s dark eyes. “That it wouldn’t matter if it was born to him or not because he is still a Targaryen, because he still is great. That’s all that matters, so I tell you this now, my boy. It doesn’t matter if you bond with a dragon or not. It doesn’t,” you shake your head. “I won’t love you any less. Your father and your siblings won’t.”

Robb scoffs. “Father doesn’t love me as much.”

You lean towards him and counter. “Nonsense, your father loves you, but you are the one to blame for the distance with your father. He’s trying to reach out to you and at every attempt you push him away.”

Robb stays quiet knowing you’re right, letting you once again cup the back of his head.

“You don’t need a dragon to be great. That comes from here,” you say and point at his chest. “There are some brave men who turned out to be not so great even with dragons. And there are others who didn’t have a dragon ever and are legends; like your name-sake, your uncle Robb. He was a hero, a legend and a King and he had no dragon.” You smile and begin to caress the back of his head with your thumb. “Your uncle Tormund is a great warrior and a hero, and he also has no dragon. Ser Jaime was a great swordsman and had no dragon. I can go on and on and name personal hero’s I know that had no dragons and are still legends.”

Robb shakes his head softly. “But you do, and you’ve stopped three rebellions already during your reign as Queen because of Eraxis.”

You nod softly, knowing you can’t deny those claims. “That’s true. But are you me?”

Robb scoffs softly in amusement and shakes his head. “No.”

“Nor I do want you to be me, or your father,” you continue to assure him. “You don’t need a dragon. Daeron doesn’t have a dragon either.”

Robb huffs and averts his gaze before spatting, “Daeron is not my brother.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly argue back against him. “Don’t say that. Daeron is your brother. I may not have birthed him, but he is your relative, he is just as much of a Targaryen as you and your siblings. He is your brother, I wish you would stop arguing against that.”

Robb drops his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You swallow thickly and don’t dwell on that topic any longer, instead you return to your previous conversation. “All I’m trying to say is that, you are not and will be any less of a Tagaryen if you don’t have a dragon. Now being great, that’s all up to you.”

Robb glances out at the water before he looks up at the sky as the sapphire-blue dragon is spotted miles above the water, lost in the clouds.

“I suppose you’re right,” Robb agrees quietly and a bit unsurely.

“I tend to be so,” you joke, making Robb side-eye you before he snickers.

“Yes,” he agrees. “You are.”

You beam. “At least someone sees it.”

The corner of Robb’s lips tug to a soft smile, but it doesn’t last long because it then begins to fall and go serious again. “Uncle Bran…” Robb mentions. “Said that he’s seen my late brother's dragon, Helios, at Dragonstone…can I go and try to claim him? Drogon also tends to be there uncle Bran says, so can I please try once?”

You’ve heard what happens if people don’t bond with dragons when they attempt to do it, it doesn’t end well. But who would you be if you deny him?

“All right,” you give in, “but…we will all go with you. You know what happens if a dragon doesn’t want to bond with a rider. So just in case something goes wrong we will be there to protect you….I couldn’t bear it you didn’t come back.”

Robb flashes you a faint grin. “All right…thank you mummy.”

You mirror his gesture but you then lean in and press a kiss on the side of his head.

Robb groans and gently pushes you away and grumbles, “mother, please.” His cheeks turn a tint of pink and he looks back to see if your Knights standing guard at the entrance of the cove saw.

You giggle. “I’m sorry. Now,” you sigh and stand up. “Come on. Let’s head inside. You can train with your sisters today.”

Robb pushes himself to his feet and rolls his eyes as he groans in protests. “Ugh, they’re terrible. They never focus.”

——

*LATER*

No matter how busy a day can be, no matter if there’s guests staying at the castle, Jon and you eat dinner with all of your kids. As chaotic as they can be all together, even if they have poor table manners when it’s just you, it’s the one thing you looked forward to the most.

It’s also Jon’s favorite part of the day now that you don’t have to deal with them as little children you have to help feed.

Albeit the one thing that does annoy you is sitting down to eat, you’d think that they’d have a favorite chair, but they fight about the seats. Always.

Like now for example, the sound of hurried footsteps echoes down the hall, whilst Jon insists on helping you to your seat because he says that you put enough weight on your leg that never fully healed after that battle where Gendry broke it.

“It doesn’t hurt as much today,” you assure him with a smile. “I sat for most of the day.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Jon counters. “Now stop complaining.”

You shoot him a grin while the doors get pushed opened and in comes running footsteps.

“No,” you recognize Edria grumble. “Aemon I sit there! Get…”

“Ahaha!” Oraena laughs evilly, and when you peer back you see she had snuck around them and taken the seat next to Jon. You also can’t miss her pink and purple hatchling perched on her shoulder.

“Bitch.”

“Edria,” you warn her as you let Jon go and sit on the head chair.

“Sorry mother.” Edria mutters and bows her head before taking the seat next to her sister, making poor baby Aemon walk around the table.

“Here,” you pat the empty seat at your right side since the left one was where Jon sits. “You can sit next to me.”

Aemon’s chest falls and he sits down as if he was forced to do so.

“What?” You remark playfully. “You don’t want to sit next to your mother? Does the Queen intimidate you?” You giggle as you see him slowly begin to grin.

As the food begins to get placed down on the tables surface the four eldest walk in—or only Rhaenyra and Ryuu walk in gracefully because Robb and Daeron come running in shoving each other to see who can reach the seat all the way across from you, because it makes them feel…special?

Who knows really. They just always fight over it.

But in all reality they shouldn’t because it’s meant to be Jon’s seat, but you didn’t like how far he was from you so he took a different seat. And then after that it was meant to be for Rhaenyra considering she’s the eldest, but the boys got to fighting so she takes whatever seat is open. Which in this case is next to Aemon and across from Oraena.

“Oraena,” you call out as you ignore the two eldest boys still fighting over the seat to glance at your youngest daughter, and the one that’s turning out to look just like your mother, Elia. Which is a blessing, but it is also a curse at the same time because it does hurt your heart a bit because you still miss your mother so much.

“What did we say about hatchlings at the dinner table?” You tell Oraena.

The girl makes sure that both Jon and you are paying attention to her before she parts her lips to argue. “He can’t be without me. Daddy you know that, I’ve told you.”

You sigh and shake your head. “He needs to start learning, O, he can’t be perched on your shoulder forever.”

“He won’t,” she rebuttals sassily. “That would be impossible.”

You draw in a deep breath and drift your eyes to your left to ask Jon for help since he’s always the solution when it comes to dealing with Oraena.

“Your mothers right, O, he can’t be here. He needs to start learning to be more independent. But it’s a long way back to your quarters, so have this be the last time.”

Oraena beams at him. “Thanks daddy.”

Well that’s as good as that’s going to get.

Now hoping the other dilemma is dealt with, you look ahead. And thankfully the boys are seated already with Robb being the one who won the seat across from you, and Daeron sitting next to Ryuu. So now you can finally begin with dinner.

“Now that we’re all seated,” Jon interjects while the last meal is placed across from him. “Let us join in prayer.”

You all grab each other's hands around the table and duck your heads to do as Jon requested.

And you weren’t one much for prayer or religion, but Jon was, and ever since winning the grande war for the throne, he’s made sure to pray as a family before eating. At first it was to give thanks to his gods that you made it out alive. But as the family grew his prayer changed. Now every single evening he thanks his gods for this life he was blessed with, all his kids, and you. Every single day it's the same prayer.

One time Edria asked why it was the same thing every single night, and he put it simply, that once when he was a young man in the Night's Watch, even when he was a boy, he never thought that having a family of his own would ever be a possibility. So now that he has it he thanks the gods that he was blessed, that it's real and it’s not all a dream he has to wake up from.

He made you cry that day he said that.

Alas, now after prayer the eating begins. It’s usually filled with chatter, or depending on the day it’s quiet and calm. Today a few minutes in Edria interjects.

“I have a very important question, for you both mother…” she trails off and glances at Jon taking a bite of his chicken. “Father.”

You put your silverware down and probe with a curious look. “Okay, share it then.”

Edria puts her cup down and shifts in her seat to face both Jon and you better, in doing so showing the scar on her face that she got from secretly sparring with some man twice her age in a competition. She was 10. It was red for weeks, and she was ashamed of it because she said it ruined her beauty because it was long and cut from the bridge of her nose down to the corner of her jaw. But now she’s grown to love the scar.

“How does a woman have a child?” Edria asks seriously, causing Jon to choke on his food, and for the four eldest kids to snicker at both Jon and their curious sister.

“Yes, please tell us,” Ryuu cuts in mischievously.

You let out a shaky breath, and ignore Ryuu. “Uh, why do you ask?” You ask Edria nervously since this is so out of the blue.

“The milkmaid is with child,” Edria explains with her eyes wide as she grows bewildered. “And she’s only 15! 15! and she has no husband.” She falls back in her seat and continues to look at Jon and you.

“Well,” you help her since Jon is taken back that his 11 year old girl is asking such questions. “One doesn’t need to be married to have a child.”

Oraena gasps and leans in to slam her hands agasint the table. “What? So does that mean that I can be with child? I kissed the stable man’s son!”

The four oldest laugh harder, while Jon gasps and snaps his head to the side to shoot her a shocked and angry look.

“Oraena,” he says sharply.

You giggle at the innocence of her worry and shake your head as you grab Jon’s hand to give it an assuring squeeze. “No, silly girl. You don’t get to be with a child by kissing. But how about Edria, you and me talk after dinner about that stuff okay?”

“I can draw you a picture about how it’s done, sweet little sister,” Robb jokes as he leans over towards Edria.

Jon’s gaze snaps to Robb’s and he snaps back. “You won’t do no such thing.”

Robb sits back and snickers as he fist bumps Daeron who also finds amusement in it.

“You can draw it for me,” you hear Ryuu whisper to his brother over the table.

A tap then hits the table at your right, and Aemon begins to sign when you look at him. “Can I know too?”

You part your lips to answer, but Jon does so before you. “I can tell you when you’re older, buddy. Okay?”

Aemon let’s out a deep exhale and nods along slowly, making Jon offer him a soft smile, and for you to end this conversation.

“Now let’s put those matters to bed and focus on another thing, Robb,” you pull him in the conversation. “Why don’t you share with us what we planned earlier, hm?” You grab your silverware again to continue eating.

Robb sets his things down to begin rubbing his knees nervously. “Well since I don’t have a dragon…I want to go to Dragonstone to try and bond with Helios. Uncle Bran says he lives there, so I want to go.”

You hum in agreement and after you swallow your food you add on for him. “Since bonding with dragons isn’t the safest thing, I thought we could all go. Watch out for him, and take advantage of the moment and have a small family trip.” You smile and glance at everyone around the table.

“That sounds like a good idea, mother,” Rhaenyra interjects. “Also gives me a chance to race against father again.” She snickers and sips her wine.

Aemon taps the table and when you look to him he quickly signs. “Can Catelyn, Nymeria and Eira go too?”

You let out a disappointed sigh and shake your head. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I’m afraid they wont make it. It’s just a small trip. But,” you try to assure him as you lean towards him. “Aunt Sansa and uncle Mors, and the girls will come in a couple weeks for a visit. That sound good?”

Aemon nods and grins.

“Really? They’re coming? Great!” Oraena asks with excitement since Sansa’s eldest daughter is 10 just like her, and they get along very well. It’s also why Aemon wants them to come because Sansa’s middle child, Catelyn, is 8 just like him.

“Anyway, Daeron, once we get to Dragonstone, maybe you can bond with a dragon too,” you direct at him so he doesn’t feel left out. “I’ve seen two wild dragons at the Dragonmount. That skinny brown one, and the teal one that looks like Ryuu’s. ”

Daeron meets your gaze and offers you a gentle smile and a light nod. “Yes, I would like that.”

You mirror his smile, and then share your happy smile with Jon.

Now all there’s left to do is hope that either of them bond with a dragon. If they don’t it’s okay, having a dragon doesn’t define them, but they really want to, so you’ll carry hope for them.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

“Boys,” Jon murmurs as he continues to try and progress what he heard Oraena say. “She’s kissing boys.”

You smile at the mirror you’re using as you catch his baffled expression while he lays down.

“How old were you when you kissed a boy?” Jon asks and looks at you through the mirror.

You turn around to face him whilst you continue to spread cream over your arms. “15. But don’t worry, when I asked Oraena she said she was just curious.” You pick the cloth from the vanity to clean your hands. “It's okay to be curious. If we try to forbid them from something they’ll only act out…I know that from experience.”

Jon chuckles softly. “I know that…” he trails off and sighs. “It’s just she’s so young…in my eyes at least. She’s my little girl.”

You begin to smile in awe as you walk to your side of your shared bed.

“What? Soon she’ll stop following me around as well?” He asks, making you giggle.

“Aye, she will.” You tell him the truth as you climb on the bed and crawl to his side. “She’ll grow up, get an attitude, she’ll want to leave and then Aemon will follow and we’ll be alone.”

Once you’re laying beside Jon, he wraps his arm around your shoulders and presses you agasint him as you both admire the ceiling above. “I suppose it’s what every parent wants right? For them to live their lives,” he whispers. “I was so caught up taking care of them that I forgot that.”

You press a kiss on his chest and then begin to caress his shoulder with your finger. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “They’re all so unique and chaotic…the day is never not eventful,” you laugh. “I never expected that.”

Jon hums softly. “Nor I. I always thought my life was going to be dull and boring in the Night's Watch….now…” he trails off as he can’t find what to say.

You albeit lift your head and meet his gaze. “What would you younger self say if he knew this was going to be your life?” You ask out of curiosity. “I mean you're a prince and have seven kids. Seven.”

Jon begins to smile in admiration and shakes his head softly. “I wouldn’t believe you. I wouldn’t believe it. I was a bastard who was just a burden to my family, a shame they had to hide. At the Night's watch I started from nothing and then rose higher, but I never knew if I would live to see another day…after I left that remained the same. Now—”

“You’re a Prince Consort,” you interject. “A hero of the Seven Kingdoms, my husband, and a father. A great one at that.” You grin at him and then raise your hand to cup his cheek. “Who thought you’d get this far huh?”

“Well I’m a great father only because I have you,” he compliments you and begins to caress your chin. “Without you I don’t know how I would do it.”

You hum softly and press a kiss on his lips. “Sometimes I think war is easier,” you admit.

Jon chuckles and nods. “Oh so much easier. I mean I don’t miss fighting battles, but it was easier. Now here with the kids I have to be careful how I step…one wrong move and someone’s angry at me…like Robb. Albeit with him I don't know where I went wrong. And if I try to retrace my steps I end up more lost.”

You exhale deeply and lay your head back down on his chest. “He’s just feeling left out without a dragon.”

“Is that what he said?” Jon asks.

You nod. “Basically yes. He feels like he doesn’t belong. Like you hate him because of it.”

Jon shakes his head quickly. “Never. I never could.”

“I know, but he’s just feeling insecure. It’s part of growing up, but the best thing you can do is keep trying, okay? Maybe try and talk to him. Take him out. Go hunting, or do something he likes.” You suggest.

Jon’s chest rises as he draws in a deep breath, and then pulls your head down as it falls when he breathes out. “I hope he wants to.” He says.

“Oh, he will,” you assure him. “My only hope now is that if he doesn’t get that dragon he doesn’t spiral. He’s so dependent on getting one. Like if his life depends on it. Is it bad to expect that from him?” You ask quietly as if Robb could hear. “Does that make me horrible?”

“No,” Jon answers without hesitance. “You’re just worried, we know how he is. You’re just preparing so it doesn’t sneak up on you….but I don’t know either…I think we just have to be there for him. Support him.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod in agreement.

You’ll still hope he does get his dragon though.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

“I live simply with hope for a better today for tomorrow is not promised.”

You lower your gaze and meet the dark gaze of Rhaenyra as she closes the book in her hand.

“That’s my favorite book,” you tell her. “I especially like it when you read it to me.” You caress her chin and she flashes you a smile.

Due to her being heir, now that she’s older and understands more matters, you like to have her by your side at small council meetings, hearings, really anything to do with Queen duties to get her prepared. It’s why your relationship is stronger now than it was before, because you’re with each other most of the day.

“I know. It’s one of my favorites too,” she says as she flips around to lay on her stomach on the blanket you have over the sand. “What did you draw?” She asks you.

You smirk and hand her your sketch journal to show her the drawing you drew of her as she was reading with her head on your lap.

“I shall have it hanged,” she says. “Maybe in the art gallery at home. I love it. I wish I could draw as good as you.”

“You do have an amazing talent for music,” you comfort her. “You brought your father to tears when you played the harp for the first time, remember?”

Rhaenyra snickers as she drops her head. “Father cries for my smallest achievements. When I become Queen will he sob?” He pokes fun at him.

“I bet you he will,” you play along. “10 golden dragons that he does.”

Rhaenyra glances over at Jon playing some game with Ryuu and smirks. “I’ll take that bet.” She flips back around to lay her head on your lap and takes time to admire the blue sky overhead. “Can I tell you something?”

You hum in agreement whilst you look at Aemon a few feet down the beach flying his kite.

“Robb snuck girls into his chambers last week,” Rhaenyra sells out her twin brother, causing you to snap your eyes to her and shoot her a narrowed gaze.

“What?” You scoff in disbelief.

Rhaenyra nods. “He and Maester Sam’s Jon were getting drunk and probably laying with those woman.”

Oh not Sam’s Jon, you do notice Ryuu’s crush on the older boy. This will break his heart.

“Who else knows?” You ask her and catch Ryuu laughing with Jon.

“Just me and Daeron, just don’t tell him I told you,” she lets you know.

You sigh and look around for Robb and Daeron but they continue not to show up on the beach. “I’ll talk to your father and then talk to Robb. Because if he gets one of those girls pregnant he will have to take care of it.”

Rhaenyra snorts. “Yeah, sure he will. He can’t even wipe his own ass right.”

You lower your eyes to look at her and try not to laugh, but you can’t help but let out a soft giggle.

“Ahh help me!” A shout cuts through the breezes. “Let me go! Daddy!”

You snap your eyes to where it comes from and see Edria wrestling with Oraena in the shore. And just as Jon breaks away from where he is you get up to and rush over to the pair of girls to try and break up the fight.

“Edria, let go of your sister!” Jon yells as he tries to pull her off, but Edria shifts away and shoves Oraena’s face in the water, causing Ryuu to laugh and Aemon to grasp onto you with worry.

“Edria!” You yell out, but it’s like going to deaf ears. The Queensguard try to step in, but you assure them that it’s okay. And luckily Jon manages to break them apart, letting you rush over to Oraena to pull her out of the water.

“Tell me what happened?” You demand from both of them as you grab Oraena’s chin as you notice scratch marks on her face. “Now.”

“Oraena splashed water in my eye after I told her not to and it stung!” Edria shouts and pulls away from Jon. “She—”

“Edria bit me!” Oraena counters and throws her arm up to show the bite mark on her wrist. “And she shoved me in the water!” Oraena looks up at you with her eyes clouding with tears and then glances at Jon. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whines.

You let go of her and then look over at Jon and meet his gaze. You don’t say anything, but you share a speechless conversation through your gazes.

“You’re both grounded, we’ll come up with your punishments tomorrow Oraena,” Jon breaks it to them. “Edria, since you swung first you won’t attend training for a week, nor can you go dragon riding for that same amount of time.”

Edria gasps and twists around to face you with that same disbelief. “Mother, you cannot allow this!”

You nod. “I can and I will, you're sisters, not enemies at war. Now go to separate parts of the beach.”

Edria huffs out before she yells and kicks sand as she stomps away, whilst Aemon steps towards Oraena and signs at her very seriously. “Careful, O, you might want to get that checked out, Edria has rabies.”

Ryuu chuckles loudly and makes sure to let his sister know what was said. “Edria does have rabies! Nice one Aemon!”

Edria spins around quickly and parts her lips to speak, but you shoot her a warning look and she just glares at her bothers before she turns again and continues to storm away.

“Daddy please it was not my fault,” Oraena begs Jon as she begins to follow him towards where Rhaenyra stayed. “You can’t punish me.”

Jon tries not to look at her since he knows he’ll probably give in if he does. “Sorry, O, but your mother is right. You’re sisters, you shouldn’t be fighting.” He tells her.

“Ryuu,” you call out without having to look over at him. “Leave Edria alone. You’ll get her even angrier.”

“Will not!”

You roll your eyes and get ready to add onto the converstion Jon is having, but you’re quickly cut off by a different voice approaching the beach.

“Your Grace, my prince.”

You look up and see Ser May dragging Robb along with her, and you notice he’s sporting a bloody nose. After her follows Ser Podrick with Daeron following at his side, and he has a cut lip.

Great another fight.

“What happened?” You ask as you slowly approach the group meeting you half way

“We found them fighting just in the valley above,” Ser May shares and pushes Robb towards you.

You swallow thickly and glance at both boys, seeing that Daeron lowers his head out of shame, and Robb just glares past you, making sure not to look at either Jon or you.

“Were there any weapons?” You ask the Knights.

Ser Podrick shakes his head. “No, Your Grace. They seemed to be just fist fighting.”

You exhale deeply and nod. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. Leave us.” You then look over at Rhaenyra and point your eyes to the castle.

And without fault the two knights do as they were ordered, whilst Rhaenyra takes her siblings along with her, even if they want to stay and gossip.

It’s only once the kids are out of ear shot that Jon interrogates both boys. “I will ask nicely now, what happened? I want the truth.”

Robb meets Jon’s gaze and then yours, but he then drops his eyes and doesn’t answer, letting you press Daeron with a glare.

But he stays quiet too.

“You both are grown men,” Jon raises his voice. “Act like one and tell us what happened now!”

Both boys continue to stay quiet for a moment longer, so Jon steps forward and grabs Robb by the collar of his shirt and presses him with anger. “You are the oldest, Robb, tell me now.”

Robb scoffs and pushes Jon away so he’d let go of him.

“Robb,” you say softer. “Daeron, one of you has to speak. Your mother demands it.”

Just as you think you’d have to repeat yourself Robb grumbles. “Daeron claimed Helios. My dragon! My brother's dragon!” He sneers out at Daeron.

Damn it.

“I told you already I did not do it on purpose,” Daeron argues back softer. “It was not to spite you.”

You and Jon share a concerned look. And rather than trying to solve this, Jon lets you do it since you know more about dragons.

“Robb, it does not work like that and you know it. Yes I am sorry that it happened, but…it was just not fate for you to bond with Helios.” You try to grab his shoulder but he steps back from your touch. “Robb, you can bond with another. This is not the end and nothing to get angry over. Fate did not want it that way, it’s that simple.”

Robb sniffles and then glares at you. “You told me. You promised!”

You shake your head. “I did not do such a thing—”

“We were here for me!” Robb cuts you off abruptly. “But as always Daeron makes it about him!” Robb points at his brother and begins to stomp towards him, but Jon pulls him back. “Helios was my dragon!”

“Helios was no one’s dragon,” Jon rebuttals. “And it’s no reason to be fighting your brother for it.”

“He is not my brother,” Robb hisses and pulls his arm away from Jon’s touch. “He’s the son of a—”

“Robb,” you bellow. “That’s enough. Go to your quarters now. Calm down. We’ll go talk to you again.”

Robb throws his arms up and parts his lips to argue back, but he just glances at all of you before he lets out a feigned laugh and turns to storm away.

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t mean it,” Jon tries to assure Daeron. “He’s just angry.”

Daeron glances back at Robb and nods softly. “Yes, I know. You have to know I didn’t do it to be malicious. I found Helios when I was walking down to the beach and I just…” he pauses and his eyes soften as his lips tug to a smile. “I just had this feeling.”

You mirror his soft smile and nod. “Yes, we know that feeling exactly. And I know your intentions are pure. Robb is just…” you sigh. “Angry. Don’t let that ruin your moment. Okay? Celebrate if you must.” You grab his chin and caress it. “Congratulations my sweet sunspot.”

Daeron offers you a sweet smile and nods in comprhension.

You then exhale deeply and look to Jon. “I’ll go talk to the others, explain what happened.” You tell both men.

Jon nods and then presses a kiss on your cheek. “Go I want to talk to Daeron.”

You let your gaze linger on both Jon and Daeron once more before you break away and head for the castle alone with your thoughts.

Like why is it that Robb and Daeron can’t get along. And it’s not like no one can get along with Daeron, it’s just Robb who finds his indifferences with him. But why? You nursed the both of them, they got long as toddlers, you don’t favor one over the other, so why?

Sometimes it feels like you’re failing her…Daenerys. You try so hard, but no matter what, Robb can’t find it in his heart to welcome him, to think of him as one of his siblings. It can’t be just because they’re men, there has to be a reason, but what?

“I’m sorry Daenerys,” you whisper to the blue sky.

.

.

.

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A/N- One more chapter left! 😓 also did you catch the parallels?

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #chapter 17 #game of thrones fanfic #got #got fanfiction #got fanfic #Jon snow #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow fic #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x you #Jon snow fanfic #samwell tarly #podrick payne #ser brienne

[damn-stark]

Chapter 15 What could have been

Chapter 15 of Sandstorm

A/N- A good and sweet chapter!! Some would say it’s the calm before the storm 🤔

Warning- swearing, talks of death, FLUFF, long chapter, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*A FEW MONTHS BACK*

The air smells like salt, the grey waters crashing against your feet is cold, and the breeze brushing against your skin is chilly; it’s nothing like the warm blue waters at Sunspear. But if you close your eyes the smell takes you back.

You never thought you’d miss a place so much then now as you stand miles away from it.

“Are you all right?” The voice of Daenerys approaching you at shore cuts you off from your stupor.

You peer back and offer her a smile. “Quite,” you assure her and look back at the roaring waters ahead. You wait until she’s close to you to continue. “I just miss Sunspear. I miss the warmth and the calmer waters.” You laugh softly and turn your body to be able to face her.

Daenerys hums and smiles at the ground. “Yes, I’m afraid the waters here are dull and harsh.”

You pick up your shoes off the sand and pick up your skirt to walk towards her standing where the water won’t hit her. “Do you miss Meereen?”

Daenerys draws in a deep breath and looks at the never ending horizon ahead of her. “No,” she admits with a sigh, and proceeds to clasps her hands together. “I can’t miss a place that was never my home. I don’t miss Pentos either.”

You hum softly and nod. You don’t press further so as to not upset her, you do however begin to follow her as she begins to walk down the shore.

“There is one place albeit,” she adds much to your surprise. “When I was child, I lived in this house that had a grand red door, and underneath my window was a lemon tree…” she pauses and the faintest smile decorates her lips whilst tears well in her eyes. “I don’t remember much anymore but I was happy there. I miss that.”

You watch the dragons ascend to the sky in the distance and can’t help but smile. “Well,” you add. “Once we’ve won this war, we’ll build a vacation home in Sunspear, by the blue sea. One with enough space so when the dragons grow tired of flying over the water they can burrow themselves in the sand,” you beam and hook your arm around hers.

“We’ll plant Lemon trees for shade so we can watch the waters roll in and relax after you’ve had a long week of ruling,” you add on. “We'll use the lemons for refreshments as well to cool ourselves off. And at the entrance we’ll have a grand red door. How does that sound, hm?” You drift your eyes to Daenerys, and she meets your gaze with a smile; a bright smile that makes her eyes squint, that lets you see her shiny white teeth, and makes her smile lines crease deeply on her cheeks.

“I like the sound of that,” she muses.

——

*NOW*

You’ve missed it all, the smell of salt, the sand even if it’s irritating at times, the heat, the castle and vibrant colors, the people. You’ve longed to be home, and now seeing it again brings a small joy to your heart.

Albeit, without Rhaenar by your side now there’s more sorrow than actual happiness as the castle finally comes to view.

“Gods,” Arya murmurs with awe as the gold domed roofs on the castle towers gleam as the sun reflects off them.

You peer back at her with a prideful smirk. “Just wait until you go inside.” You blink and look back at the castle below this last sand hill, and notice castle guards riding towards you already to greet you halfway.

“Welcome back home,” Jon murmurs by you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a kind smile before you keep moving, letting the army trailing behind you to follow as well, whilst Eraxis flies past you and fills the sky with a happy screech as she recognizes the place she was born, her first home.

And unlike at Kings Landing, or at winterfell when you first arrived to those snowy lands, here in Sunspear, once you enter the city below the castle, the people aren’t scared of your white dragon. Sure no one besides your family knew of her before, but now that everyone knows about you, as they’ve heard the stories, the people come to love the white dragon the people call The Silent Death.

“Make way!” The Dornish soldiers bellow at the gathering crowd as they try and make a path for you towards the castle. “Make way!”

“Your Grace,” Ser Brienne mutters to you as loud as she can so she can be heard over the people that begin to clamor as they see you passing by. “You should go to the carriage with the children, there’s too many people, it's not safe.”

You meet her gaze and shake your head. “Don’t worry, Ser Brienne, no one will harm me here. I’m home.” You glance over at the crowd of people that gawk and offer them a kind smile.

“Your Grace!” Someone cries out from the crowd.

“It’s the Queen!”

“Queen Y/N!”

People come out of their markets, others stop what they’re doing, and some walk out of their homes to be part of the crowd, to try and catch a glimpse of you and everyone that came with you. Unlike at Kings Landing, or Winterfell people here cheered, others smiled and filled with excitement. Others tried to touch you as if you were some kind of miracle or a god, but the guards never let them get that close. There were also some people at the front of the crowds that bent the knee at the sight of you.

You tried not to let it affect you, you tried to remain collected but seeing all the people happy to see you filled you with glee and pride.

Nevertheless, it’s because of the crowd that getting to the castle took longer than expected. Albeit that didn’t take away from the greeting within the castle walls.

“Queen Visenya Targaryen, second of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms.” Ser Brienne exclaims, filling your skin with goosebumps as you’re still not used to such a proper and dramatic announcement. And no matter how many times you’ve seen it already, you can’t wrap your head around people bending the knee for you.

“Your Grace,” the new Prince of Dorne and a distant cousin of yours interjects after a moment of silence. “Welcome back home.” He stands up to his given height and offers you a welcoming grin. “We are honored with your presence.”

You meet his gaze and nod before you get off your horse and respond. “Thank you for having us at such dire times, cousin.”

He scoffs as if you’re being ridiculous. “Please, Sunspear is your home. You may come when you please.”

You hum and without a second more to waste you slowly beam at him before you break away from your spot and rush over to meet him with an embrace. Your cousin returns it and squeezes you tighter.

“You’ve been gone far too long,” he says and pulls back to face you. “And yet you don’t age.”

“And you on the other hand,” you tease him. “Is that a beard I see on your face?” You step back and watch him caress his chin.

“It is, and you thought I could never grow one.” He chuckles, but quickly goes serious. “I want to give you my dearest condolences, cousin. I’m sorry for your loss. Rhaenar was a good boy, he didn’t deserve that fate.”

Your breath falters, but you do the proper thing and thank him. “Thank you.” You avert your gaze and clear your throat, catching Ellaria standing behind him with her yougest daughters by her side. Yet you don’t greet her yet, instead you turn to face Jon, seeing the narrowed glare as he studies your cousin.

Is he jealous?

“Meet my husband, and my Prince Consort, Jon Snow.” You grin at Jon and wave him over so he can get closer. “And Jon, meet my cousin and the Prince of Dorne, Quentyn Martell.”

Jon glances at you before he meets your cousins gaze and offers his hand.

And of course your cousin takes it and offers Jon a grin. “Welcome to Sunspear. My home is yours.”

You smile wider and leave them be to then walk towards Ellaria, noticing Elia with her now embracing her and greeting her with joy and relief to see her return home. Once Ellaria sees you she steps past Elia and her other daughters to curtsy before she speaks. “We all mourn your loss, Your Grace.”

You exhale deeply and nod. “Thank you, Ellaria.”

“I'm happy to see you back home,” she continues. “We’ve missed you.”

You pull your lips to a smile and reply. “And I’ve missed you.”

She gets closer and her smile softens. “Thank you for protecting my daughter and bringing her home.”

You grin. “She’s strong like you and my uncle Oberyn. You should be proud.”

Ellaria looks back at Elia and hums in agreement. “I am.”

“You must be tired after a long journey,” Quentyn cuts in, turning your attention to him. “We’ll have baths prepared in your quarters before dinner.”

You sigh and nod. “Good thank you.” You then turn to the Prince's advisor and speak to him. “Please make sure that the armies are taken care of and properly installed. Have half be underground now that the civilians have returned to their homes, and the others can share the military quarters with the soldiers that live here.”

The advisor nods and attempts to do as you said, but Jon then cuts in. “We don’t want to bother, they can camp outside.”

You quickly meet his gaze and shake your head. “No, it's fine. Winter is here, the desert gets cold at night. It’s better that they have shelter.”

Jon holds your gaze for a second before he nods and doesn’t argue, letting you add one more thing to your cousin. “I’d like to see the maester so he can check on the twins before I go to my quarters. They've been on the road since they were born, I want to make sure they’re okay.”

Quentyn nods. “Of course, again, this place is your home. Do as you please.”

“Thank you,” you say before you look back at the midwives as they approach you to hand over the twins. “Come on my loves, let’s go get you checked on, hm?”

Jon follows by your side, but he gets stopped before you can walk inside the castle.

“Jon, a word?” Ser Davos adds.

Jon hesitates and glances at the twins, wanting nothing more to accompany you since he doesn’t want to be far, but he has duties to fulfill. “I’ll catch up when I can,” he tells you before he presses a kiss on your cheek and follows Ser Davos, letting Ellaria now return to your side.

“Congratulations, last I saw you your belly was small, now I can’t believe they’re here. Your children are beautiful.”

You meet her gaze and smile softly. “Thank you Ellaria. They’ve been through so much already, but I’m glad that they’re safe. I’m glad that they can come here to their home as well.” You look at the sleeping babies and whisper a harmless joke. “And you feel that warmth? That’s the sun,” you giggle. “You’ll love it.”

Nevertheless, when the maester is checking on them, your heart feels as if it’s getting squeezed because of their discomfort. No one was harming them, but you were still filled with worry.

But it seems that your worry doesn’t compare to Jon’s. Ever since you reunited and he held them in his arms for the first time he’s been nothing but overly protective and cautious, he never skips a meal time, he never likes to be far from them, and always, always makes sure that they’re breathing when they’re asleep; the first few nights he probably didn’t even sleep just to watch their little chests move.

Now is one of such examples of protectiveness, after being dragged away he managed to catch up with you in the maesters quarters. “Sorry,” he apologizes to you and finds Rhaenyra crying her little lungs out as the maester feels her heartbeat. “What’s wrong? Is she all right?”

The maester pulls his gadget away and picks up Rhaenyra. “The little princess is fine, Your Grace, she’s healthy, she has a strong heartbeat, and as you can hear a strong pair of lungs.” He chuckles softly and walks to Jon to hand him Rhaenyra. “She’s just upset that we woke her. That’s all, nothing to worry about.”

Jon doesn’t fail to smile at his little girl and begins to sway her gently. “It’s okay, you’re fine, Rhaenyra,” he coos at her, making you watch him with awe as you held Robb in your arms—“I’m here now. You’re okay.”

“The twins are healthy, nothing to worry about. But if you have any concerns you can always come see me.” The maester adds.

You bow your head. “Thank you maester, we appreciate it. Have a good day.” You then walk out and when you’re out in the hall you notice Rhaenyra calm down and watch Jon with her dark eyes.

It’s been a couple weeks since they were born and you’ve seen how good Jon is with the twins, but he never fails to amaze you. His bond with the both of them is very strong.

“Did Robb cry?” Jon asks.

You glance down at him slowly falling back to sleep and shake your head. “No, he was calm. I think I was the one crying instead of him.”

“Are you okay? Did he check on you too?” Jon asks and meets your gaze.

You hum in agreement. “I’m fine. I just need to take care of myself that’s all. But enough about me, you, how are you liking Sunspear?”

Jon glances at the tall white cielings and nods slowly. “It’s beautiful. Bigger than I imagined. And it’s also not as hot as I thought it’d be.”

You giggle, and he meets your gaze. “It’s winter, sure the days aren’t as bitter as in the North, but they are chilly. Just wait until the sun sets, it gets even colder. Unbelievably so.”

The corner of Jon’s lips tug to a smile. “It’s no wonder the cold doesn’t affect you as it should.”

You smirk. “That or maybe I was fated for the cold,” you joke. “Considering you my love were born there.”

Jon snickers and grows flustered. “Sure. But I will say, the warm climate agrees with you. I think all that fur hides too much of you.” He shoots back smugly, and slowly looks you up and down to once again study your light white dress that lets you show off your arms, and more skin than you could show off further north. He watches how the tail, and the thin matching cape hooked on your sleeves so elegantly flows behind you, he admires the way the gold accessories that you wear on your arms, around your neck and on your head glimmer against the sun and light.

“Why thank you.” You beam at him. “You should see what I wear when I swim. Perhaps I’ll show you later, hm?”

Jon smirks at you. “Please do.”

You hold each others gaze for a lingering moment, making your smile turn all timid like.

“You hear that Robb,” you direct at your baby boy. “Perhaps you’ll be getting a brother soon enough.”

Jon scoffs, letting you reach one hand over to him to tuck his hair behind his ear. “What?” You ask.

“I think we just practice for a while, hm?”

You gasp softly in surprise to his comment and grab his arm. “Jon Snow.” You giggle. “You never fail to amaze me.”

Jon shoots you a smirk before his smile then softens. “I'm happy to see you smile.” He caresses your cheek, but soon pulls his hand away out of fear he’ll drop Rhaenyra if he holds her with just one arm.

“I’m content,” you assure him. “I have you, our babies, I’m here at Sunspear. I feel content.”

Jon leans over and presses a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m glad,” he whispers.

It’s true, you feel content, the most you’ve felt in months since Rhaenar’s passing. If only this war wasn’t still going on so you could be like this forever…but unfortunately there’s still stuff to be done and…there’s more sorrow you have yet to feel. You don’t know how you know that exactly, perhaps it’s because it is war, or something else, but you feel it coming…

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

He could see it there in the back of his head. No matter how much he wanted to forget the memory, the tremendous amount of power he felt on that battlefield, it all stuck with him like a dirty spot you can never clean.

He doesn’t know, albeit, whether he liked that power he felt when he was on Rhaegal. It was a power unlike any other. Commanding armies, ruling over people and lands never made him feel so…strong. With one word—no, sometimes he didn’t even have to say Dracarys for Rhaegal to blast out fire, he just did it, he listened and knew every ounce of rage Jon felt when he thought he’d never see you again.

When he was flying, when he was in the sky he would’ve laid waste to that haunted castle if it meant getting you back. But now, now that time has passed since the battle, now that he can reflect, he knows that feeling so invincible is wrong. Sure he doesn’t care if he had burnt away all the soldiers, it’s a war, it's just what he felt capable of doing to everything else that was in between him reaching you and the twins.

How is that you did it? Kept your cool while on Eraxis? How did you stop that power from taking control?

If he asked you would you think he’s weak? Would you think he’s incapable of having Rhaegal?

Probably not, but he still worried you would.

It’s why he didn’t want to ask, but he needed to for his own sake.

Albeit you aren’t in your shared quarters, instead the Wetnurse was there taking care of the twins.

“Do you happen to know where the Queen is?” Jon asks the older woman.

The woman lifts her head and nods. “At the pools, Your Grace. She said she’d be back soon.”

Jon turns to go search for you, finding the Water Gardens castle easier to navigate than the actual castle. Albeit he can’t decide which castle is prettier, here pale pink marble paves the gardens and the courtyard, different fruit trees he had never seen in his life shaded the grande pools and beautiful fountains. It was like paradise.

Which is why if you wished to move here then he’d accept. Besides, where else could he watch you be so relaxed?

The moment he found you he saw you in the water floating on your back with your eyes closed. He noticed that you wore a bathing suit, and no burden. He could watch you just take in the sun all day.

Yet he doesn’t know that what you were thinking about wasn’t so relaxing. Your heart is in anguish as you think about Daenerys now more than ever, about that plan you had to build that vacation home here in Sunspear.

You were completely serious about having that dream become a reality. It would have been nice watching your children play in the waters, bask in the sun and play in the sand. It would have been nice seeing them grow up together like family, like the family you never got to be because of war, because of your fathers.

But no, now you’re also at war.

“Y/N?”

Jon.

You smile and turn up right in the water, and see him standing there at the edge of the pool. “My love,” you greet and swim over to the ledge. “Are you here to join me?”

Jon shakes his head. “No. I came to watch you.” He grins smugly.

You swim back and hum. “Ah, well that’s a bummer, the water is pleasant.” You bat your eyelashes before you swim to the ledge again and fold your arms over the marble. “How are they?”

“Sleeping,” Jon says. “That’s all they do.”

You giggle. “When they get older they become restless, it’s best to appreciate that they sleep all day right now.”

Jon hums and crouches down. “You’re right you look breathtaking in your swimming garments.”

You offer him a sweet smile and hold his gaze whilst you discreetly reach for his hand. He parts his lips to say something, but before he can speak you manage to pull him in the water.

Jon quickly swims to the surface, and you can’t help but laugh as he stares at you in disbelief.

“You looked hot standing there,” you feign innocence and wrap your arms around his neck.

Jon albeit then splashes water on your face, causing you to pull away and gasp. “I had to get you back,” he chuckles.

You swipe the water off your face and grumble.

“Can I ask you something?” Jon asks in a serious tone all of a sudden, making your smile fade.

“Of course.” You nod.

Jon sighs and averts his gaze, making you feel a bit of concern.

“Has there been something that’s happened in your life that you can’t forget? No matter what it sticks with you like a dirty spot you can’t clean.”

Without having to take a moment to think, the answer pops up immediately. “Yes,” you let him know. “It was my uncle Oberyn’s death….” You let out a shaky sigh. “The Mountain killed him right in front of me, he squished his head like it was some fruit. Every memory I had of him was haunted by his bloody face, it felt like I was the one that killed him. I knew I didn't, but I couldn't wash the blood off my hands, or think of anything else.” You blink in confusion and slightly tilt your head. “Why? What’s bothering you?”

Jon exhales. “That day I fought Daenerys at Harrenhal, when I was full of rage because you were missing, I felt this immense amount of power while I was on Rhaegal. This invincibility that I fear now. I would have burnt down that castle and everyone in it…” he trails off and shakes his head as his eyebrows furrow deeper. “I don’t want that to take control of me the same way it took control of Daenerys. How do you do it? Stay calm? Keep Eraxis calm?”

So that’s it? That’s what had him brooding all day?

“Well one,” you say softly. “You aren’t like that.”

“What if I am?” He presses.

You shake your head. “But you aren’t,” you argue. “You're a good man Jon. You were just angry, but I know that you would never let that control you. I actually envy you for keeping calm when problems arise.”

Jon sighs deeply and averts his gaze, causing you to grab his chin and tilt his head so you can have him meet your gaze. “Jon you’re smart, tactical, you could have burnt that damn castle down and killed Daenerys at the spot, but you didn’t. You know why? Because that’s not you.” You point at his chest. “No matter how angry you may get, no matter what might happen, that will never be you because you’re simply not that person. As to the dragons?” You exhale deeply.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand our special bond with them. I mean they react to our emotions, Eraxis comes to me when I need her without having me say it, it’s amazing,” you continue. “But like every animal, like every person, they have their emotions too, they react to their own pain. I don’t think we can fully control them, we can guide them, control some aspects but they’re beings too. Do you understand?”

Jon holds your gaze and nods softly, making you offer him a soft smile.

“As to that surge of power,” you add more lightheartedly. “Wouldn't everyone feel it? I mean you’re on a fucking drsgon! Just remember, don't let anger control your judgment.” You lean in and press a gentle kiss on his lips. “Did that help?”

Jon cups your hand and nods. “It did. Thank you.” He then proceeds to press a kiss on your hand, making you grin.

Albeit that grin falters and you begin to frown instead as anguish fills your heart. “Now that we’re on this subject,” you add softer and slide your hands down to his neck. “I need you to promise me something. Can you do that?”

Jon’s expression turns puzzled and he just asks, “what is it?”

You sniffle and fight the tears that threaten to spill. “With the war coming to an end, the worst has yet to come…I need you to promise me that if I…don’t make it—”

“Don’t say that,” Jon cuts you off.

You shake your head and just slightly tighten your grip around him. “Let me finish, please.” You beg in a quivering voice. “If I don’t make it, if I die don’t seek revenge, don’t. Just take the twins and their dragons and get far away from here. Don’t make them seek revenge either, raise them, be their father. Please.”

“Y/N,” Jon whispers.

A tear falls from your eyes and your hold softens. “I,” you swallow thickly. “I grew up without my parents, Jon. The war ripped them away from me. Because of it I had to hide all my life, I had to live in fear. Promise me you’ll take them, go beyond the wall, cross the narrow sea, I don’t care, just don’t seek revenge, they need at least one of us. Please, swear to me.”

Jon swallows thickly and nods stiffly. “I promise,” he whispers.

You sigh with relief and then throw your arms around him for an embrace. “I love you…more than life itself,” you whisper.

Jon hugs you back and caresses your back as he whispers. “I love you too.”

You pull back to face him. Jon offers you a faint smile before he cups your cheek and leans in to give you a gentle kiss on your lips before he kisses your forehead too.

The gesture makes your heart skip a beat and your face burn. The kiss brings back your joy and amusement you had felt moments ago. “Now,” you say softly and slide your arms down his clothes to pull them off and throw them to the side. “Wow,” you muse as you see his toned torso. “I’m lucky aren't I?” You beam at him and let him grab your waste as you once again slither your hands around his neck. “I'm willing to make a third baby here. Now.” You giggle and press your forehead against his.

Jon flashes you a grin and shrugs. “Let’s keep practicing,” he insists. “I want you to myself for a while now.”

You squint your gaze lightheartedly. “I’m afraid we’re too late for that. You have to share me with your children now.”

Jon shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter, we can find moments to ourselves like we do already. And like now. If you’re expecting a child we have someone between us.”

“Ah. Well when you put it that way, fine, we can practice—”

“But, uh, not here,” Jon quickly cuts in.

You laugh and pull back. “I know that. Come on, we can go somewhere else.” You climb out of the pool, and as the servant helps you put on a light gown you add something else to Jon. “Before we go on our rendezvous though, I need to show you something.”

“What is it?” He asks.

You peer over at him over your shoulder and just shoot him a teasing smirk. “You’ll see.”

Jon then huffs as he looks at his wet clothes. “By the way, I didn't bring extra clothes to the pool. You got my clothes wet.”

You snicker. “I like you better that way,” you tease him. “Anyway, we won’t go far, just cover yourself with a towel.”

Jon sighs but has no choice but to do as you advised as he follows you inside the castle.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you interject and turn around to face him as you continue to walk towards the gallery you want to show him. “Considering you were in the Night's Watch, and you weren’t allowed to marry or what not, what would your brothers say if they knew you married a princess?” You ask curiously.

Jon smiles at the ground before meeting your gaze again. “Queen,” he corrects you. “You’re a Queen.”

“Sure,” You brush him off. “Now come on, tell me.”

“Well you met Edd,” he responds softly. “He said I was a lucky bastard. And he called you beautiful.”

You smile softly. “I wish I would have gotten to know him longer. Ask him about you.”

Jon sighs softly and glances ahead. “The others would just tease and ask too many questions.”

You laugh and then clear your throat. “How is it like to lay with a Dornish woman?” You mock a man's voice, causing Jon to chuckle.

“Why do men ask that?” You ask in your normal voice. “I mean sure we are very beautiful,” you giggle. “But we are still women.”

Jon shrugs. “I don’t know. But I know you’re not like every other woman.”

You snicker and grab his hand before you turn around as you approach the gallery. “You flatter me, husband. Anyway come with me.” You push the doors open, and walk into a white room that had no windows on the walls, the floor is decorated with different red carpets, and the cieling, that was the most impressive; it was made of colorful and delicate stained glass. Since the sun is out, the ceiling reflected in bright colors that basked your faces and made the art in the room even more beautiful.

“Its beautiful in here,” Jon muses as he loses himself in all the art hung around the room, all the statues that stand in different spots.

“It was my uncle Doran’s favorite place,” you share softly and stop in front of an art piece of women wearing a veil made of blood, and holding a bouquet of flowers that pricked her fingers. “Since he couldn’t travel the world he found solace here,” you finish.

“Who painted all these?” Jon asks whilst his feet shuffle so he can look at you. “These are impressive.”

The corner of your lips pull to a faint smirk as you turn to face him. You don’t say anything, but Jon quickly understands that it was you. “These,” his breath catches and twists around to admire more art. “These are beautiful y/n.”

You smile softly and walk over to him slowly. “My uncle didn’t have any daughters, so when I came to live here, he liked to spoil me rotten. When I started getting into my art he liked to hang every piece of art I made in here, even if they were terrible. As they became better this place became his pride and joy.”

Jon looks over at you with a smile. “I see why.”

You smile shyly at the ground before you slowly step behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He uses one hand to caresses your arm as he walks towards a statue of the head of a stag wrapped around it is a snake; it’s long and very carefully detailed, it’s body wraps around the stags neck and slithers around its antlers penetrating through an ear and coming out of its eye.

“Did you carve this?” Jon asks as he tries to read the meaning.

You nod and hum. “I did.”

It was one of the last pieces your uncle put on display here. Does it have a meaning though?

No.

“What does it mean?” Jon asks what you were just thinking.

You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing. I just saw it in a dream.”

Jon hums and peers back at you with a sweet smile. “Well it’s all very beautiful. You’re an amazing artist. Why don’t you paint more often?”

You shrug. “I haven’t had time,” you answer honestly. “But I have drawn. I drew you sleeping with the twins on your chest. It’s my most prized possession now. I’ll show you when we get to the castle.”

Jon nods softly in agreement before a smirk tugs on his lips and he turns himself around to be able to face you, and then hold your jaw. “Now about that practice.” He teases, making you grin before you take him in for a kiss.

However, the moment is soon cut short as the doors open and a throat clears. “Your Grace,” the voice of your cousins advisor cuts in.

Jon and you break away from each other, and he tugs the towel tighter around his torso.

“Yes?” You probe.

“The Lady Hand has arrived,” he shares, “she says she needs to speak to you urgently.”

Urgently? That’s probably all lies. She’s eager to meet the twins.

“All right,” you respond with a sigh and bow your head. “Thank you. We’ll depart right away.”

The advisor leaves and you turn to meet Jon’s gaze. “Guess it will have to wait.” You snicker and stride ahead of him.

——

Returning to Sunspear seemed to be a small cure, roaming the halls you once did when you were younger brought a soft smile to your face, and showing Jon and your babies where you grew up, where Rhaenar grew up as well, provided you with a joy you lost when Rhaenar died.

“Arya,” you call out as you catch the girl peeking out the window that overlooks the gardens below. “Where’s Sansa? We got word she’s here.”

Arya's eyes slide over to you and she points to the window. “She just arrived and was quickly whisked away by some prince.” She grumbles.

Your eyes widen and you hold the back of Robb’s head before you rush over to the window to also peek out beside Arya.

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate,” Jon interjects from where he stands. “We should give her space.”

You squeal and grin brightly. “It’s my cousin, Prince Mors, the man I spoke to her about.”

Prince Mors is Quentyn’s younger brother, he’s taller than his brother, he's also slender than the men in the North, but his muscles are quite toned, you could see them under his robes. He also had the common Dornish features; dark hair, brown eyes and a bright tan skin.

Considering he’s the youngest son he doesn’t inherit Dorne, so he spends his life much like your uncle Oberyn did, traveling the world and sailing across the sea’s. Some say he’s wiser and better at handling politics than his older brother, but he doesn’t wish to start a war and fight for the throne so he doesn’t deal with any of it. You know him as well, or well you knew him; much of the time you spent with him was when you were younger. He was kind, less harsh than some of the other boys, but he is a brilliant fighter.

Sansa deserves a kind man, and he can be that man.

“She’s been smiling like an idiot the entire time,” Arya points out. “Is that normal?”

You hum. “It can have two meanings though, one just fool him into thinking you’re interested when you’re not, or two, she’s actually interested. Your sister isn’t one for games anymore so I suppose it’s the second.”

“You know that by just seeing her face?” Jon queries and takes a few steps towards you.

You peer back at him and nod with a cocky smirk on your face. “Aye.” You return to look at Sansa walking at Prince Mor’s side, and catch them stop by a rose bush filled with the most beautiful white roses. Mors picks one and tucks it behind Sansa’s ear, letting it stand out perfectly against her long red hair.

Sansa’s smile also softens and her eyes fall, whilst her cheeks seem to grow the faintest tint of pink.

“That’s ridiculous, don’t tell me she’ll fall for that,” Arya grumbles.

“I think it’s quite sweet,” Ser Brienne gives her opinion as she sneaks a peek, causing you to grin wider. “Gods know she deserves someone kind.”

“Besides,” you throw out and lift your head higher as they continue to walk. “It’s not like they’re getting married, they’re having a stroll. A kind stroll while Sansa waited for us. Jon,” you call out and look back at him. “Come see.”

“I’d rather not,” Jon scoffs.

You snicker. “Are you feeling a bit protective over there Jon? Don’t worry,” you say and return your gaze to Sansa and prince Mors, noticing they turned the corner and seem to be walking back inside. “Gods, they’re coming inside, quick act normal.” You part away from the window and continue to head towards one of the parlors.

“Wine?” The servant asks as you sit down.

You shake your head. “No, thank you, some water will be fine.”

The servant nods and walks away, letting you pull Robb out of the sling you wear around you and seeing he’s wide awake now. “<You’ll keep my secret about me spying on your auntie right?>” You ask the baby in High Valyrian, making him blink and your smile to soften.

You look over at Jon beside you and see him watching Rhaenyra sleep. You don’t say anything, you don’t want to interrupt the moment, instead you just watch him with awe.

“When do you think—” Jon pauses as he catches you staring when he looks at you. He then mirrors your smile and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead.

“What were you saying?” You press him.

“When do you think they’ll start smiling?” He finishes asking and looks down at Robb in your arms.

You lift your gaze and think back to Rhaenar when he was a baby. “Well,” you muse. “Perhaps at the next moon cycle. So when they’re about 60 days old.”

Jon huffs, making you laugh.

“Don’t worry that time passes quickly, you’ll soon find out.” You let him know.

“Still—”

“Your Grace,” the sound of Sansa’s voice cuts Jon off, pulling the attention of the both of you up to her, and Prince Mors bowing beside her.

You stand up and offer them a soft bow of your head. “Lady Sansa. Prince Mors.”

Sansa straightens up after her curtsy and her eyes immediately fall on Robb in your arms. “Enough of pleasantries right now,” she says and doesn’t hesitate to walk over to you. “Let me meet my niece and nephew.” She puts her arms out, letting you carefully hand her Robb.

“This is Prince Robb,” you tell her. “The youngest twin.”

Sansa fixes him in her arms and her smile softens as her eyes begin to water. “He’s perfect…” she sniffles. “He has your eyes Jon.”

Baby Robb moves his fisted hand, letting her reach over with her finger so he can grab it.

“Careful,” Arya warns her in a teasing tone. “They don’t know you like they know me, they might cry.”

“And this,” Jon brushes Arya to the side as he stands up and approaches his sister. “Is Princess Rhaenyra. The eldest.”

Sansa’s eyes drift to the sleeping baby girl and her eyes fill with even more tears, but her smile never falters.

“They’re wearing what I made them,” Sansa points out.

You nod and watch as she switches Robb to one arm so she can then reach for Rhaenyra as well. “I couldn't wait to put it on them,” you share.

“Careful,” Jon mutters as he lets his hands hover below Rhaenyra's back.

“Yes,” Sansa remarks. “I know how to hold a baby Jon.”

“She also has Jon's eyes,” you share since she’s sleeping. “Albeit it’s the temper I don't know where she gets it from. She’s feisty.”

Sansa laughs. “I’m sure she will be.” She lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I brought the dragon eggs like you requested, they should have been taken to your quarters.”

You smile at her and nod. “Thank you. Hopefully soon enough they’ll hatch so they can bond. I’m excited!”

Sansa’s gaze falls back on the twins and her smile stays on her face the longest you’ve ever seen it stay alive. “I’m proud of you Jon,” she says. “I’m happy for you.”

As they have their moment you walk to your cousin and give him your attention. “It’s nice seeing you again, cousin.”

Prince Mors flashes you a grin. “And you, who would’ve thought the next time I saw you you’d be a bloody Queen. Uncle Oberyn would be proud.”

“I’m sure he would,” you agree softly.

Mors smile fades away and his eyes fill with the same pity you’ve seen many others look at you with. “I just want to say congratulations on your babies, and my condolences on the passing of your son. It’s weird to say those things in the same sentence, I’m sorry.”

You swallow thickly and plaster on a faint and thankful smile. “Thank you, cousin.”

He reaches over and grabs your shoulder. “Blood must have blood,” he says in a more intimidating voice. “I want to join your forces, help with your fleet if it’s okay with you.”

You blink in surprise and nod. “Of course that’s okay. I’m honored in fact, I’ve heard incredible things about your reputation, thank you.”

Mors shakes his head. “No, thank you.” He pulls his hand away and bows his head. “I’m at your will, Your Grace.”

From the corner of your eye you catch Sansa stealing a peek at your conversation, and have to hide your growing mischievous smirk.

“Actually,” you add to your cousin and shift to the side so you can see Sansa better. “The title of Master of ships is open. I’d love for you to join my small council.”

Mors eyes widen whilst his smile softens. “That would be great,” he agrees. “Thank you. Truly, thank you!”

You hum softly and steal a glance at Sansa, making her look away and focus back on the twins.

“Okay,” you change the subject giddily. “Before I get swept away with all the business, I would like to go visit my family’s Master-at-arms, he helped train my uncle Oberyn, my cousin Trystane, some of my sisters, and me.”

Mors snickers knowing how incredibly skilled and intense the now retired master-at-arms is, only making the Stark siblings confused.

“For what?” Jon asks cluelessly.

You smirk. “Show off of course. Ser Meer is truly amazing. He doesn’t train like most other Master-at-arms.”

Jon shakes his head and he’s about to say something, but Arya cuts him off as she jumps off the couch. “Let’s go. I want to see y/n train!”

“Before you go,” Sansa says and hands the babies to Jon. “I need to give you two something.” She looks over at one of your Queensguard to pass a knowing look and share a nod.

You furrow your eyebrows and slowly make your way to Jon to take Rhaenyra from him while he holds Robb. Ser Alys then walks over and unhooks a leather sheath from her belt line.

“Tyrion sent this as a present for the twins,” Sansa shares and grabs the sheathed sword from the Knight. As she turns to face you, you notice that the sword wasn’t just some ordinary sword, the golden pommel carrying a red ruby is one you recognize, it was Ser Jaime’s Valyrian sword. And before that it was the sword of the cruel King Joffrey—you remember clearly when he got it at the breakfast ceremony, it was a distasteful display. He couldn’t even swing the damn thing.

“He said his brother had no use for it buried with him, and he hopes it can be a step towards forgiveness.” Sansa continues and pushes the sword toward you.

You swallow thickly and hold back your tears as you take the sword from her hands. “We’ll have to write him our gratitude,” you say. “Thank you for giving it to us.” You glance over at Jon and see him studying the sword that was once a part of his fathers sword; or so you’ve been told.

“Yes, we’ll write to him,” Jon agrees with a sigh. “Thank you Sansa.”

You then proceed to hand the sword back to Ser Alys so she can take it to your quarters.

“What about the twins?” Sansa then asks as you pick up the sling off the couch to give it to her.

You smile at her. “We’ll take them of course, they’ll be fine,” you assure her.

——

*LATER*

“Queen y/n, my kindest student.” He rises up and meets your gaze. “I heard of your ascension, I’m glad that we get to see a Dornish Queen on the Throne. I’m sure your mother would be proud.”

You sigh softly. “Thank you.”

He flips the sword in his hand as he glances around at your company before shooting you a questioning look. “If I may ask, what brings you here, Your Grace? I’m sure I’m not worth visiting.”

You walk around the training circle to admire all the weapons racked together. “I was hoping to give a small presentation to my family.” You smile. “I’ve told them of your stories and they’re eager to see for themselves.”

The master at arms begins to stroke his chin and looks at your family standing to the side. “Well, in that case then I’m willing to give them a show. Albeit they must know that I don’t hold back, an enemy at battle wouldn’t. Queen or not.”

You pull a spear from the rack and study its gold design on the stick. “I was hoping you wouldn't.” You look back at Jon and shoot him a smirk.

“All right,” the master at arms gives in and sheaths his sword. “Let’s go then. To our training arena. Let’s show the Northerners what we’re made of, little sunspot.”

You grin and flip the spear around in your hand before you skip to catch up to his fast pace.

“Are you sure, Your Grace?” Ser Brienne asks.

You peer back at her and at Jon and the others walking behind you, and nod as you shoot them a wink. “It is. There’s nothing to worry about, right Mors?”

Said man snickers and nods. “Of course, he won’t actually kill her.”

You chuckle and follow the man out, you don’t give Jon and the others a clue as to where you’re going, you just let them see the landscape change from beautiful white and vibrant walls, and then to orange sandy dunes that yanked your foot down. Well for them since they don’t know how to navigate the terrain.

“For the new people joining us,” Ser Meers interjects. “For my older students I like to take them to tougher arenas since in battle there’s no guarantee you’ll fight on flat grounds. It prepares you to use your environment to your advantage.”

“Fighting at shore is the best,” Mors adds to the conversation. “Albeit the salt stings, and Jellyfish are sneaky bastards. You got stung once didn’t you y/n?”

You look back with a grin. “Yes, right on my chest. Obella threw it at me.”

Sansa’s eyebrows furrow in slight disbelief that she doesn’t let show for long.

“It’s okay I got her back by shoving her to a cactus,” you add with a giggle.

“Here,” Ser Meers cuts in, forcing you all to stop in your tracks. “Tell your knights to stand down.”

You look back at your knights and only give them an assuring nod before you join Ser Meers a few feet ahead. And before you knew it without any warning he swings his blade, making you throw your head back to miss being hit.

“Okay,” you mutter and then run at him, but instead go low and manage to kick his leg before you flip around on the ground and kick up at his chin.

Ser Meers groans and you twist around and shove yourself to your feet to then pull out a small blade and swing it across his chest, managing to cut him a little.

“Good,” he compliments. “But a poisoned blade doesn’t affect right away. Remember that?”

You pull out your spear and nod. “Of course.” And luckily for him your blade isn't poisoned right now either.

Regardless, you then swing your blade at his neck, but he throws a dagger at you at the same time, causing you to twist your body to the side. He uses your slight distraction and grabs ahold of your spear before he kicks your chest, managing to catch you off guard just the slightest bit and causing you to tumble down the sand hill.

“Y/N!” You hear Sansa call out as you’re rolling down the sand.

When you hit sort of stable ground you come to a stop and groan out. It’s been a while since you’ve taken a tumble like this, it fucking hurts!

However even if it does hurt and you are down, you don’t try and get back up, you lift your head off the ground an inch and peek back, catching Ser Meers running at you down the hill like some scary assassin out for blood, so you stay put. Once you hear him close by you grab a handful of sand and wait for a second. The moment he stops right behind you, you twist your torso around and throw the sand at his eyes with a deep growl.

Ser Meers stumbles back and grabs at his eyes, so you get back up and hit his legs to pretend to slice them, before you spin around to get further back and then hit his throat to pretend to take him out, ending this session.

“Good job!” He exclaims and struggles with the sand in his eyes. “That was good. You haven’t lost your training.” He pulls his water pouch out and rinses his eyes out, making you pat his shoulder. “You okay, Ser?”

He blinks repeatdly and nods. “Always.” He then turns to face the group on top of the sand hill. You follow his line of gaze and see the castle's adviser whispering in Jon’s ear, albeit you don’t pay too much mind to it.

“Who wants to go next?” Ser Meets shouts out. And right away Arya raises her hand.

“I would, against the Queen.” She smirks at you, and you shoot her one back before you run back up the hill.

Albeit just as Arya pulls her thin sword out, Jon faces you with that long uspet look of his that never means anything good.

“That’ll have to wait,” Jon interjects as the advisor hands him a raven scroll. “We have to talk.”

You begin to frown and swallow thickly.

Once you return to the castle, and after you put the babies down in their cradles with their dragon eggs now keeping them company in their cradle, you meet in the parlor and find out what had upset Jon so much that he didn’t speak at all the entire way here.

“Daenerys told everyone the truth about Jon’s real parentage,” you reveal and throw the scroll down on the table.

“I thought it didn’t benefit her,” Arya grumbles.

Jon sighs. “No it doesn’t, but she lost Greyworm its revenge. She doesn’t care about the stakes.”

“Why should it matter if the two of you are married,” Mors interjects. “Your Targaryen ancestors married in the family to keep the line pure.”

You and Jon share a small glance before you look around with no shame, after all Jon and you never let that affect you, you love each other too much, and he doesn’t consider your father his own, so neither of you are ashamed of it.

“We don’t care,” Jon interjects. “My father is Lord Eddard Stark. He always will be, so it’s not that we care what we are to each other, all the people need to know is that me and y/n are man and wife.” He grabs your hand, and you offer him a kind smile before you face your advisors sitting on the couch, and frown.

“It’s the Lords that are allied with us,” you share the truth. “Regardless if Jon doesn’t consider himself a Targaryen, they don’t agree with sister marrying brother, that, and well they can use it to betray us and ally with the Prince Consort Gendry Baratheon. Because after all it’s him they want on the throne now that he married Daenerys”

“Then burn them,” Arya suggests. “They would be traitors and you have dragons. Use them if they want to defect.”

Jon shakes his head. “We can’t just go burning down castles and towns Arya. We do that, we become just like Daenerys.” He argues.

“You won’t burn their towns, just the Lords.” Sansa interjects now, catching you by surprise. “Burn them and have someone else take over. They’ll think twice about betraying you.”

You can’t help but smirk, but don’t show it long, instead you bring up something else. “We’ll send them ravens, explain why that information wasn’t shared and warn them about the traitors' fate. If they turn then we burn them.”

“What of the Citadel?” Ser Davos cuts in, drifting your eyes to the Onion Knight. “I’m sure they’ll have something to say.”

You shake your head. “If they do, they won’t complain until we win the war. We can take care of them if it happens, as of now though, we attack because that’s what she wants to do. No more waiting.” You look at all your advisors and smirk mischievously. “Daenerys is desperate and wounded. Drogon is hurt as well. We have her surrounded. Let’s strike now. Let’s end this war.”

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A/N- There’s a fight i'm excited for next chapter!

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarssluts @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #chapter 15 #jon snow fanfiction #got fanfiction #got #game of thrones #Jon snow #jon snow x targaryen!reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow fic #jon snow x y/n #Sansa stark #Arya stark #dorne #daenerys targaryen #ser Brienne

[damn-stark]

Chapter 13 The court of women

Chapter 13 of Sandstorm

A/N- It keeps getting better!

Warning- Violence, blood, swearing, talks of death, fluff, and there’s changes that depart from the show!

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“My son was stolen from me, my first born boy. He was sweet, good, and he was taken from me,” you swallow back the thick clump of emotions that had begun to cling on your throat. “I know there are fathers, mothers especially here who understand such pain. It’s a pain unlike any other, one you can never recover from. It’s why I ask you now, mothers, sisters, aunts, fight with me. Join my armies, rise alongside the men. Protect your children, your nephews and nieces, your cousins, siblings. Don’t hide under the shadows any longer.”

Whispering against your speech begins to fill the room, men mostly seem to be the ones with something against it.

You albeit knew this would happen, people aren’t as open minded as they are in Dorne. Sansa told you this would happen, it’s why you sat here with no plan to back away, you were only going to push forward with new ideals to progress this old world further.

“From now it will be law that any woman who wishes to be a knight, a soldier, can do so without protest from their husband or father,” you continue, causing the row to get louder. “From now it will be law that disregarding gender, the first born will inherit lands, families homes, castles, and titles like the first born male does. Of course this will apply for the new generation, I don’t wish to start wars between families who have already settled.”

You glance at Sansa to share with her a quick passing look, and she manages to shoot you a faint supporting smirk.

“You really expect me to put a sword in my daughter's hands and send her off to battle with all those men?” A lord interjects as he stands up to be seen and heard by everyone. Some agree, but some don’t say anything. “They are the ones who bring new life to this world, they…support homes, and are the warmth men return to after war.”

You remain nonchalant and shrug. “Aye,” it slips from your mouth after getting accustomed to the word thanks to Jon. “They are, but need I remind you it also takes men to create life. You all still go to war and risk your lives. They support homes, keep the children fed and your clothes clean, but no one will obligate them. They will have a choice. All women.”

“What does a woman know about ruling a land?” Another man cuts in, making Sansa, Arya, your sisters, and you scoff.

“So what?” You quip with a bit of annoyance now. “Are you saying that Lady Sansa, and I know nothing? I can give you a long list of women rulers that were far greater than any man. I can give you a list of women who have taken over the kingdoms of their husbands. They will learn, as boys do.”

“No,” another person disagrees. “I cannot agree to these….” He pauses and looks at you and then at your sisters, letting you know at that moment what he’s referring to. Of course he’s being racist.

“If it does not please you, my lord,” Jon cuts in this time in your defense. “You may leave. No one will stop you, you can join Daenerys after you get past the dragons past these gates. There is no argument to be had lords, it’s not up to debate, the law is made by your Queen,” he says in a louder and more firm voice. “It is time we move on from some old ways. I will do the same, if a daughter is born to me first she will be heir to her mothers throne. My own sister will rule Winterfell and all the north once we take the throne, Ser Brienne is Lord Commander of the Queensguard. If your ego is so fragile then perhaps you can find luck with the other Queen, or try and be independent. Let's see how that goes.”

You raise your chin with pride and shoot the men a pointed glare.

“Moving on then,” you continue and flick your wrist down on the armrest. “Soon we will be conducting an attack against Queen Daenerys to retrieve Tyrion Lannister, in an attempt to gain The Westerlands as an ally. I need women volunteers willing to fight.” You look around at the women around the hall. “The fight won’t be a long one, it’s just our first strike to start this war, the attack will be an ambush, a ruse to say. I and the King will watch from the skies and swoop to burn the remaining army that will be outside the gates attempting to help. Any volunteers?”

“If I may?” A lady pitches as she stands up. “Why should we risk our lives for someone part of Daenerys court? Is Ser Jaime not enough?”

You sigh, and Sansa steps in this time. “Possibly, but our cause will be stronger if both Lannister men are at our side, besides you won’t risk your lives to save him. We have a plan for that, you will risk your lives for your Queen, for yourselves so the injustice done to Prince Rhaenar won’t be repeated. So our home won’t burn to the ground the same way Daenerys burnt Kings Landing.”

You lower your gaze and fist one hand to fiddle with your rings.

“I will volunteer,” a women in the back interrupts and stands up to be seen.

“I will as well,” another stands up, and twenty more women follow after that, making you straighten up and smile faintly.

“Good,” you say. “You all can go with Ser Striker, here,” you point to the tall, lean and broad shouldered Dornish warrior at the end of the stairs. “He and Ser Jaime will overlook training.”

Now with the Lords who pledged their allegiance to you, and this new law shared, this meeting comes to end, letting you slouch and exhale deeply. Albeit as the crowd filters away, Jon is taken away too to help others.

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne interjects and walks around the throne to face you. “I have chosen some candidates to join the Queen's Guard. I just need your approval.”

“Oh,” you mutter and offer her a thankful smile. “Alright. Let’s go now then.” You attempt to push yourself off the chair, but Sansa grabs your arm and helps you up.

You roll your eyes since the action is small, but feel grateful regardless. Even as she holds onto you as you walk out the training yard with Ser Brienne.

“I swear you got bigger overnight,” Sansa mentions and looks at you with a happy smile.

You sigh and rub your belly. “Aye, I think I did. My dresses aren’t fitting anymore. It’s not time yet but it feels as if I’m going to burst,” you giggle softly and meet her gaze with a smile.

Sansa hums softly and then uses her other hand to feel your swollen belly. “Does it feel different than before.”

You look ahead and nod. “Yes, completely. Now my urge to use the lavatory is more often. And there is a constant dull pain on my ribs this time since there’s one little babe who is constantly kicking.”

Sansa’s grin widens at the mention. “That one will be a fighter then?”

You can’t help but mirror her gesture and nod. “That’s what Jon says. He’ll grow gray hairs for sure.”

Sansa laughs softly. “It’s lucky he’s quite patient then.”

You nod, letting her continue.

“I don’t know if I have said this before, but I am glad Jon met you. It seems that ever since I have seen him with you there’s this spark that wasn’t there before.”

You blink in disbelief and meet her pale blue eyes.

“He smiles a lot at you, and is never far from you.”

You scoff softly and can’t help the heat that begins to burn your face as you grow flustered.

“And I have never seen him so excited as he is now waiting for those baby’s to be born.”

“I’m lucky I met him too,” you mutter softly. “He,” you sigh. “He’s very kind. Gentle, loyal and passionate.”

Sansa giggles. “Is he?”

You nod. “He is, of course he’s mostly so in private. I never thought that I’d actually be fortunate enough to have someone like him, you know? I was told that I was going to be matched with someone, at first it was my uncle, Viserys, Daenerys brother, then it was your brother Robb Stark.”

“Really?” Sansa cuts in with disbelief.

You nod. “Yes, but of course before the proposal could be shared it was heard he was married.”

Sansa smirks. “That’s something I would’ve liked to see.”

“But,” you continue to add. “Marrying out of love is something I never knew I would get, now that I have it I’m thankful.”

Sansa hums softly before she grabs onto you tighter. “I’m glad the gods put you in our lives. I’m glad you got what you wanted. You deserve it.”

“You,” you press her now and meet her gaze. “Will you give love a shot now? And I don’t mean marry someone because it’s what’s best for someone else, but for love.”

Sansa looks ahead and swallows thickly. “I,” she sighs. “Don’t know. Perhaps maybe in a couple years. Then again my duty should come first.”

You scoff and shake your head. “You’ve done that already; Respected your duty and married someone you didn't like, now it's time for you to control your own destiny. You deserve to be loved, and love someone unconditionally.”

Sansa blinks repeatedly as she lets out a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Well,” you add excitedly. “If you are willing, I know some people. I have a cousin from my mothers side, he’s brothers with the new prince of Dorne. He’s tall, kind, and devoted. He likes poems, and he is a skilled fighter.” You grin, and see Sansa hide her smile.

“Take your time though,” you assure her and just smirk deeper. “And you, Ser Brienne,” you pull her into the conversation and peer back. “Have you and Ser Jaime deepened your relationship?”

The knight looks at Sansa in disbelief as to how you knew, before exhaling and shaking her head as she meets your curious gaze. “No, not since he left. But even if he didn’t I am now a sworn knight to the QueensGuard, I’m forbidden.”

You snicker. “Forbidden from marriage and bearing children, yes, but not forbidden from having fun. You can still divulge in your own pleasures, men do it all the time even after they’ve had the same titles you do. Just make sure to make it to your watch and be attentive when it’s your turn. That’s all.”

“I don’t think I will,” she says. “It’s just not me.”

You hum and respect her decision. “All right, I respect it, but just know that if you want to drink until you pass out or lay with men, you may. I trust you to know your limit. That’s all.” You offer her a kind smile before you look ahead and watch guards open the doors to the training yard.

There are many people scattered about the yard all occupied on their own thing, there a group of women gathered around Podrick Payne, Ser Brienne’s squire. When they all see you walking down the steps they all turn and stop what they’re doing to bow and curtsy.

It’s still a strange concept to see, all these people now so attentive towards you. It’s not unfamiliar, you’ve been apart of royal life because of your uncles, but it’s strange now because it’s directed at you.

“It’s okay,” you address the crowd. “Back to you were.”

Those scattered around focus back on their own thing, letting you come to a stop regardless to let Ser Brienne walk ahead towards the group of women and Podrick.

“My Queen,” Ser Brienne interjects and shoots the women and Podrick a passing look that makes them line up in a straight line. “These are the candidates. Here,” she points to a young looking, but rather short, and muscularly toned woman with dark brown skin and black hair that almost matched the night sky. “Lana, she was picked from the Dornish forces, she’s not as tall as the others, but she’s quick on her feet, harsh with her strikes, and skilled with many weapons.”

You hum and study her toned body before landing on her black eyes that looked as if she was piercing into your soul. She looks intimidating, making for a perfect demeanor for a Queensguard.

“Good,” you comment. “The next?”

Ser Brienne nods and walks past Lana to point at the next woman, she’s average height, leaner, but she still has toned muscles.

“This is Marielizabeth, she’s one of the freefolk that remained here. She’s vicious, and strong. She’s mostly skilled with an axe, but still very skilled with other weapons. Impressively so.”

You hum and notice scars all over her arms; stories you always liked to think. So she’s quite experienced, and not afraid to get hurt, which is good.

“This is May,” ser Brienne points to a tall woman you recognize from the Dornish armies; she’s not the same height as Ser Brienne, but she’s close. Her shoulders are broad, and her biceps are big, she’s built like an ox. She’s very impressive.

“She was one of my first picks, she’s commander of one of the Dornish armies. That speaks for itself,” Ser Brienne adds, making you hum in comprehension. “This is her twin sister, Rayne,” Ser Brienne continues to point at the woman next to May. She wasn’t as muscular as her sister, but you can tell she’s just as fierce. “She’s skilled with a great many weapons. Reserved, but fierce. Next, is Alys Snow, she prefers long rage attacks, but she is also good at hand to hand combat.”

Alys has very strong northern features, dark eyes, dark hair, tall, pale, and dark long hair, albeit her hair does have a white streak that goes with the paler patches on her arms and over her left eye.

“And lastly,” Ser Brienne finishes and stops by Podrick. “The man I vouch for, Podrick Payne. He has trained under me for years now. He’s grown skilled, he’s loyal and will never let you down.”

You lift your chin and narrow your gaze whilst you let go of Sansa to slowly approach all the candidates. “I’m impressed Ser Brienne, by all the candidates, there are somethings I want to ask all of you though,” you draw in a deep breath and look down the row of people. You then exhale at the same time a mighty roar breaks in the sky, like a clap of thunder, sudden and booming. All their eyes snap to the sky above you to look for the dragon that they hear, but Eraxis is quiet and surprises them by descending down from behind them.

They only know of her presence when her large feet hit the roofs, and her head is already lowering in the courtyard.

“Are you scared?” You ask the lined up candidates whilst you slowly stride around them to reach Eraxis’s side. “Are you willing to give your lives for me, are you willing to give your hearts, and spill your blood?”

All eyes leave the dragon at your side and try to focus on you even as Eraxis begins to snarl. “Yes,” they all answer simultaneously.

“Good,” you assure them as you nod. “Now,” you say and reach over to caress Eraxis' side. “I will give you a choice, all of you. You can leave,” you say honestly and drift your gaze to them. “You may follow Daenerys if it suits your beliefs, if you see her as the true Queen. You may leave anytime you want in fact, just know if you turn your cloaks and betray me there won’t be a corner in this world where you can hide from me and Eraxis.”

The mighty white she-dragon snarls louder, flashing her sharp and large black teeth.

“We will give our lives for you, Queen,” May says and steps forward to get on one knee. The others do the same thing right after, letting her add on. “From this day until the rest of our days. Our lives and weapons are yours.”

You exhale deeply and drop your scowl to offer them a soft nod. “Good,” you comment. “Very good. Get up Knights of the Queensguard.”

Eraxis pulls her head back and grows quiet, letting you lean your head against her. “I hope,” you add. “You get accustomed to Eraxis quickly, we’re quite attached, and if the gods are generous then there will be more dragons when my children bond with their dragons.” You sigh and face them. “And now you may get fitted for armor, and white cloaks, thank you.” You turn and hurry to Eraxis' neck.

“I don’t think you should ride her,” Sansa suggests.

You flick your wrist down and brush her off. “It’s alright. I flew when I was about eight months with child with Rhaenar. Besides, Eraxis takes good care of me. I won’t fly far.”

Before Sansa can argue further, or before Jon could come and stop you, you climb on Eraxis and let her take you to the skies.

——

*LATER*

How could life turn out this way? How did you get here? So far North, so far from any grain of sand, from the beautiful glimmering sea, far from the sun? Far from home?

For so long you always longed for more, you never fit at Sunspear, there was always a part of you missing. When you met Jon it seems that the gap was filled, but now? Now with Rhaenar gone, you wish you had relished that time, your family, Sunspear, those summer nights with your sisters that are now gone. You truly belonged there and you longed for more, now there’s no place you’d rather go back in time to then those times. You’d take Jon and you’d have all you ever wanted.

You exhale deeply and open your eyes to welcome the sight of the starry sky, you reach one hand out for the shining moon in the night sky as if that was the thing needed to turn back time.

A tear escapes past your eye and brings warmth to your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to go back home, Eraxis?” You ask your dragon.

Alas she doesn’t answer and just keeps sleeping. You drop your hand back to your chest, and just as you do there descending from the stars is a dragon that looks almost black at night, but his scales gleam green thanks to the moonlight's hues; Rhaegal and Jon.

You stay where you are and watch Rhaegal land not far from you. The sound of his feet hitting the snow covered ground causes Eraxis to wake up and lift her head whilst she curls up further to hide you. Albeit when she notices it’s just Jon she eases.

His footsteps soon begin to crunch closer to you, but you continue to stay where you are and watch the stars painted in the sky.

“Aye, love,” you hear him say as he gets closer. “You had me worried. You’re not frozen there are you?”

A smile cracks on your face, and you quietly assure his worry. “No.”

He stops by you, but you can’t see because your eyes are on the sky.

“I waited for you at home, but when you didn’t come we came to you.” He continues to add. “You…have Ser Brienne worried. I think she almost climbed on Rhaegal to come search for you.”

You let out a deep sigh and answer his questions. “I just….needed to get away from it all, you know? I…I’m not used to being Queen yet.”

Jon sighs and he takes a few cautious steps forward to now be beside you, and then leans his face over so you can see him, and so he can make sure you’re actually okay.

“No one’s ready,” he says. “But we don’t run away.”

You blink slowly and finally meet his brown eyes and sit up. “Life was easier when I was just a lost princess. I…never imagined life would bring me here. I never imagined I’d be in this position.”

Jon slowly begins to take a seat beside you and lifts his gaze to the sky. “And life was easier for me when I was just a bastard outcasted in my own home….I never imagined I’d be here either.” His voice begins to soften. “When I was dying that night my brothers betrayed me, I came to terms with my death. I had to…” he pauses and lowers his gaze to the snow below you both. “But here I am, for some reason I’m still alive. Maybe it was to find you,” he admits and lifts his gaze to meet yours. “To finally understand what I want.”

You scoff softly, but can’t help your bashful smile. He proceeds to grab your hand and cups it, providing warmth to your flesh. “What do you want?” You ask softly.

Jon shoots you a soft smile and shares. “I never imagined having a family, I never gave it too much thought. I was a bastard. Here unfortunately they aren’t so welcoming to bastards like in Dorne. My place was at the Night's Watch, but after I got a second chance, when I met you I knew at that moment I wanted to be with you. I wanted a family. Now that the dead are gone I want peace, I want to see our children grow, that’s all I want.”

You draw in a deep breath and drop your gaze. “We’ve,” you breathe out. “Strayed from what we wanted haven't we? Maybe we should have stayed here in this cave.” You mention and glance at the waterfall that was in the distance, the same one you came to when Jon first rode Rhaegal.

Jon swallows thickly and nods. “We should have.”

“Do you think it was a mistake?” You blurt and keep your gaze averted. “Naming myself Queen and declaring war? I know we can’t go back anymore, but was it a mistake?” You blink and look up to meet his gaze and wait for his response.

Jon takes a moment before he answers. “No,” he admits. “It wasn’t. Besides, there's no turning back now. There’s only ahead, we fight for us, for them, for our children.”

You hold his gaze for a minute before you nod in agreement. “You’re right.” You sigh and then rest your forehead on his shoulder. “Can you stay here with me for a while longer? I don’t want to go back yet.”

Jon wraps his arm around your neck to begin caressing the back of your neck. “Of course.”

You smile softly with content and snuggle yourself closer to him. You let some silence pass before you break it with a happier topic. “Rhaenyra and Robb, does that work for you? Just Robb, Robert is a bit too inappropriate considering he’s the man that killed…you know who.”

Jon scoffs and you feel him shrug. “I truly don’t know, I’m stuck. Perhaps, Aemon? Aegon?”

You pull your head back and look at him with a questioning and judgmental look. “Aegon? Really? Aegon, the what? The tenth? No,” you shake your head. “Not Aegon. And I mean that very offensively to you, Aegon.”

Jon chuckles. “Yes, I agree, Aegon is overused. I’ll ask my sisters what they prefer.” Jon’s smirk then widens. “Sansa has shown me what she made the baby's. They're matching outfits.”

You grin. “Really? That’s cute. I can’t wait. But you’ve got to be careful, she might take your children away.” You giggle. “And raise them herself.”

Jon snickers. “Might save us the headache. They’re twins after all.”

You nod. “Very true.”

Jon’s gaze lingers on you, his smile softens and a breath catches in his throat, making your face burn hotter and your smile turn timid once again.

“I want to show you something,” he break his short silence. “It will require us to go on dragonback though.”

You squint your gaze and retort. “As long as you’re not tricking me and taking me back home then alright.”

Jon scoffs and shakes his head. “No. Not home. We’re going to the wall.”

Your curiosity grows, but you let him help you up to your feet, and then let him walk you to Eraxis side so you can climb up to your saddle. But just as you lift one foot, there in the distance approaching the waterfall you catch sight of a White Stag.

It’s white fur glistens against the moonlight's touch, its large antlers curve to the shining stars, and it’s dark eyes…they find you.

It can’t be true though, can it?

It’s a figment of your imagination….

“Jon?” You whisper and put your foot back on the ground.

“What?” He queries and looks at you.

You point at the white hart ahead, causing him to follow what you point to. When he sees it his breath catches in his throat, and you feel his body stiffen under your touch.

“You’re seeing it?” You ask.

Jon swallows thickly and nods. “Aye, I am,” he agrees, letting you know that you aren’t going crazy.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse and take a step towards it.

The white stag departs from the waterfall and slowly begins to walk towards you, alerting Rhaegal of its presence and causing the dragon to also approach.

Albeit, Jon catches his attempts and stops him. “Rhaegal, no. That’s not food.”

You pull the corner of your lips to a soft smile, and stop just as you reach Eraxis back legs so as to not startle the white stag as it comes to a stop as well.

“What do you think it’s doing all the way out here?”

“Probably just looking for food, or wandered too far,” Jon responds.

You hum in agreement and let your eyes linger on the mythical creature for a moment longer before you touch Eraxis and turn away. “Let’s go,” you tell Jon and your dragon. “Let’s leave it be.”

Jon offers his hand, and even if you really don’t need it, you take it anyway and let him help you up to the saddle. Once you’re mounted he goes to Rhaegal to climb, when he’s on top, the dragons then take flight and you don’t take long to be a part of the night sky.

Feeling the breeze on your skin refreshes your being. You wish it could blow away all the sorrow, but the wind brings no such solution, just a short relief and joy.

Once Jon and you arrive at a part of the ice wall that still stands, your curiosity only heightens since you see nothing unusual.

“What is it?” You ask him as you meet halfway between your dragons.

Jon interlaces his hand with yours and responds. “Just wait. Look ahead though.”

You squint softly before hesitantly following orders and looking at the dark horizon ahead. You wait there and let him embrace you to keep you warm since being so high up is colder.

You wait, but not so long after, just as you were going to ask why you were here, you catch it, the sun breaking over the horizon. You see its sun rays hitting the icy wall and making it shine. The bright but soft hues are mesmerizing and breathtaking. All you can do is smile.

“I’m sure you’ve missed the sun, I apologize you can't see much here,” Jon breaks the silence. “I hope this helps.”

You nod softly and break your eyes away from the rising sun to meet his blazing brown eyes already focused on you. “It’s beautiful,” you murmur.

Jon nods. “It is.” He coos and then cups your cheeks to pull you in for a sweet kiss, there in front of the blazing sunrise.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“Y/N, my love. While we were out at sea. We were ambushed, they hit our ship with a cannon before they attacked…we tried, we fought hard, but there were losses due to a fire…Rhaenar didn’t make it...”

This is for you Rhaenar. This is all for you.

You exhale deeply and press your hands on your face and drag them down to smear blood down your face. A sign of your devotion, your anger and revenge. A frightening sight as well for the enemies.

When you look up at the mirror the sight of the scarlet blood on your face even catches your own breath out of surprise, but that quickly washes away as your anger rises and replaces your disbelief. You then raise your chin and drag out a deep breath before turning and walking out of the room.

And the moment you walk past the door, two of your Queensguard knights follow behind you in their shiny silver armor that’s not as bulky as the men’s are; it lets them move better and swifter. They drag their white cloak that contrasts against your red one beautifully. More and more of them join you as you walk outside to head to your dragon and ride towards Kings Landing to commence your first attack while Jaime, Arya and your sister Sarella snuck Tyrion out.

Once you make it outside, past the gates Jon and Ser Brienne join your side and stop as you do as you see all the women that had volunteered to be a part of the diversion. It catches you by surprise, but also pride and joy that so many chose to risk their lives.

Yet just as you were going to thank them, a woman with long black hair, an aquiline nose, and tan skin places her right hand over her heart and goes down on one knee and bows her head. Some others see her do it so they mirror her actions, leaving you stunned and happy since you know what it means.

“What’s happening?” Jon asks in confusion.

Elia steps forward and you see her grin before answering. “It’s a sign of respect in some parts of Dorne. It’s only ever used for prayer, or for when you talk to your ancestors like say our Princess Nymeria. They’re showing y/n the outermost respect.”

You smile and catch that your own guards, the ones from Dorne also mirrored the actions of the women ahead, slowly causing everyone else to fall on their knee and put their fist over their heart. So you then put your own fist over your heart and bow your head.

“I swear,” you interject loudly. “I will do my best to bring every single one of you back.” You sigh with content, and then turn to face Jon as they rise. “Don’t you dare leave me alone in this world.”

Jon doesn’t question what you have on your face and cups your cheek. “I’ll try my best:”

You hold his gaze and chuckle softly before you let him pull you in for a quick but deep kiss. When he pulls back he then presses a kiss on your forehead as one last goodbye before you’re off, because regardless if you’re flying side by side, even if you were going to stay together the entire time when you’re at battle, it’s still war and either of you can still vanish. It’s why goodbyes are hard and so meaningful each time.

If it were up to him you’d be riding on the same dragon, especially the moment you arrive at the gates of Kings Landing, but you wouldn't let that happen, you’re too blood hungry, and require for this first attack to be a spectacle.

“What do you see?” Jon asks as Eraxis and Rhaegal begin to hover in the sky above the grounds of the gate. You pull out the extra telescope you always carried…out of instinct because of Rhaenar, and throw it at Jon as you look down through yours.

“The women are approaching the gates,” you share.

There was not an army of them but there were a few. And you can’t hear them all from so high, but you know what they’re saying, “mercy,” “we seek refuge from the mad queen that is forcing us to fight”. They all look homely too, exhausted to make all the unsullied believe their cry for help.

And just as you assumed they do, they take the fucking bait!

“Thank the gods,” you sigh with relief and glance over at Jon to share a relieved smile.

“I hope Arya is doing well,” Jon worries.

You look back at the women, seeing that the unsullied are bringing backup to try and help.

“I'm positive she is,” you assure him. “She’s truly impressive. I never hear her approaching when we’re home, she’s always lurking too. Besides, she was the one that got revenge for your brother and his wife, right?”

“Aye, she did,” he agrees.

“The story of how she did it is impressive and badass,” you continue. “She said she was going to uh, use other faces this time too, so perhaps, the person you should be worried about is us. Let’s hope Daenerys doesn’t come out.”

Jon stays quiet for a moment as you keep watching below.

“I don’t see Drogon anywhere,” Jon points out. “So either that’s a good or bad thing. We’ll have to wait and see.”

You hum in agreement and lean more forward to get a better view as you finally spot a glimpse of Ser Brienne, and the other girls under their cloaks as they finally begin to walk through the crowd of women to reach the leading Unsullied soldier, and begin the attack.

“It’s about to start,” you let Jon know with excitement.

And from one moment to the next, as you watch Ser Brienne pretend to be helpless she then swings her arm out of her cloak and slashes the soldiers throats, causing the twins, May and Rayne, to swiftly twirl around and switch sides to then stab more unsullied. Lana uses her speed to knock a man half her size off his feet and then rams her sword through this face, whilst Alys throws her whip around one soldier and pulls him to her blade, and lastly MariElizabeth stabs her dagger through one guards eye and then grabs him to turn him and throw him through Ser Brienne's sword.

The other women drop their helpless act and strike as well before any unsullied soldiers can strike, managing to take down half of the small army that had gone out to help.

And now before any lives can be lost on your side, Jon and you share a quick smug passing glance before you nudge your dragons. They then flap their wings, and then shoot down towards the ground with quick speed.

You may not be able to actually join the battle with your own spear in hand, but this? Feeling this rush pump through your veins and striking your heart does make up for it.

Alas, just before either Rhaegal or Eraxis can hit the ground they swoop up and rain fire over the remaining army that was unfortunate enough to be outside of the gates. Just as both dragons meet in the middle, they turn to their sides to pass each other, and then swing around your army to land in the empty space behind them.

The moment your feet hit the ground, the women all line up and let the Knights of your Queens guard stride pass to reach you, and surround Jon and you.

“Any casualties?” You ask Ser Brienne as she falls beside you.

The knight shakes her head. “None, your Grace. Just them.”

You smirk smugly and look at small flames raising out of the ash covered ground.

“There’s a few wounded,” Ser Brienne continues to add. “That’s it, nothing severe. They did good.”

You nod. “As did you. All of you,” you compliment the rest of your Queensguard. “Have Ser Podrick and my sister Elia lead the women out to get looked at before we meet up with Ser Jaime and the girls.”

Without saying anything Ser Brienne looks back to speechlessly tell Ser Marielizabeth to lead the women to those you named, whilst you stride towards the gates to wait.

Luckily you don’t long because then out comes Lord—no sorry, the King Consort, Gendry Baratheon on horseback, by his side is someone else, a tall man with brown hair, a rugged look, and wearing brown leather armor. He’s new, you haven’t seen him before, so he must be the one and only Daario Naharis, Daenerys' ex lover.

“King Gendry,” you're the one to break the silence. “Suits you. I would curtsy, but I don’t show respect for traitors.”

Gendry shakes his head and then glances at Jon beside you. “It doesn’t need to come to this. We can stop this now, just bend the knee to the Queen and all will be forgiven,” he says.

You share an unbothered look with Jon before you look around first before looking at the man again. “Where is Daenerys?”

The other man, Daario Nahris steps forward and answers. “She’s gone. She went to some place called Dorne. You know of it?”

You immediately pretend to act shocked and hurt by his insinuations so it could seem that you didn’t already have a plan.

“Daario Nahris,” you name and tilt your head. “The Queen's lover. It’s nice to finally meet you, she’s spoken a lot about you.” You smirk and drift your gaze to Gendry, catching him go stiff.

“No,” Daario clears his throat. “Just a faithful commander and follower.”

You hum and nod. “Well anyway,“ you sigh deeply. “Can you give Daenerys a message for me?” You raise your chin and continue. “If she wants me dead tell her to come face me alone, no dragons, no army, just us in hand to hand combat.” You scoff softly knowing she would lose in a second. “The winner becomes Queen. If not, well, I’m looking forward to facing her in battle.” You turn to end the conversation, but you remember one thing.

“Ah,” you share and turn around on your heels. “A congratulations is in order, I’d say becoming a father is much more complicated than leading.” You look between both men not knowing who could be the father of Daenerys child that Bran said she’s having after you did your spell.

“Regardless,” you continue. “A baby is such a miracle, especially after being told you’re barren. Give her my sincere congratulations.” You feign a smile and glance at Gendry and Daario one more time before focusing on Daario alone. “So I hope that Daenerys took company to Dorne, she’ll come to find it a futile trip. She may burn our homes, but she’ll never find them until they attack first.” You exhale and shoot them a small smirk before turning again and heading back to Eraxis, missing the confusion in Jon’s look after you shared the news about Daenerys pregnancy.

How would you know he asked himself.

He doesn’t ask you at that moment though, he stays quiet and climbs on Rheagal to then meet up with Arya, Sarella, and Ser Jaime.

It takes a few minutes for them to meet up with you at the crossroads, but when they eventually come all three come back alive and unscathed, and a man sits behind Ser Jaime.

“Arya,” Jon greets with relief and walks over to her horse to check for any wounds. “You’ve made it are you hurt?”

Arya looks down at Jon and shakes her head. “No. Thanks to the disguises we went in without getting spotted.”

“Albeit,” Sarella interjects. “He wasn’t at the dungeons, so we took a detour.”

You hum and try and examine her as best as you can. “Are you okay, Sarella?”

Said girl nods. “Of course. You might want to check Lord Tyrion’s pants, he basically shat himself when he saw us take the face masks off.” She snickers and side eyes the man behind Ser Jaime.

You follow her line of gaze and see him there, dirty, and with his facial hair a bit longer.

“It’s not true,” Tyrion rebuttals. “Just surprised, that's all.”

“Are you alright, Ser Jaime?” You continue to ask and focus on the one handed knight.

The man nods. “Yes, I’m still taken back by the fact that I had to wear someone else’s face, besides that, yes I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Tyrion then clears his throat and interjects. “I should thank you…Queen Y/N, and…King Jon, my brother says it’s thanks to your mercy that I was rescued.”

You nod stiffly. “Yes, but I’ll be honest, you're a political gain. If we didn’t need you you’d still be there.”

The man nods. “I assumed so. But just so you know I am not of high value to the Westerlands, I'm a dwarf who killed his own father.”

You scoff. “Yes I understand, but some of these Lords rather have you as their lord than follow me or Daenerys, so they’d say anything to reject me, I’m taking precautions. Isn’t that what a good ruler does?” You ask.

Tyrion sighs. “I suppose yes.”

You hum softly and then look around you. “Let’s pack up and get going before we find trouble. There’s no casualties, I want to keep it that way.”

“I swear I’ve had this very same dream once,” Tyrion mutters as he notices all the women in armor.

——

*LATER*

“Anything from the Velaryon’s?” You ask as you tilt your head and watch the small orange dragon fly about outside the window.

“The Lord Montery’s Velaryon says he will remain faithful to House Baratheon,” Sansa shares whilst she slowly approaches you. “Those taking over for the little Lord are scared. We can’t blame them.”

You sigh and nod softly. “I know. What about the man that calls himself Lord of the Waters, Aurane Waters?” You continue to ask for the bastard of Driftmark since he’s an experienced pirate with enough ships to possibly fight Daenerys.

“He says that if there’s no Queen then there’s no deal,” Sansa shares and stops by your side to watch Helios.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Isn’t a dragon egg enough? He has Tagaryen ancestors from years of our family alliance and intertwined lineage. There’s a chance a dragon may hatch and bond to him, small but it’s there.”

“You’d think,” Sansa agrees. “But sometimes the desire for too much power is the downfall.”

You lift your head and meet her gaze to nod with a small smile. Silence then follows for a moment when you focus back on the orange dragon, but she then grows curious and interjects.

“What happens to him now?” Sansa refers to Helios. “Does he stay?”

You let out a deep breath and shake your head. “No. He’ll leave soon. He’ll wander the world alone and riderless now. Grow and just fly.” You drop your gaze to hide your watery gaze.

Sansa notices nevertheless and reaches for your hand to hold it in hers. You don’t look up at her, but you acknowledge her attempts at comfort and give her hand a gentle squeeze.

You remain that way for a few minutes until a knock raps on the door.

“Come in,” you speak out loud.

The door opens, making you peer back and catch Jon walking in. He looks the same as usual, brooding and handsome.

“Sansa is it okay if I talk to y/n…alone?” He breaks his silence as he stops past the door.

Sansa let’s go of your hand and nods before turning to you and bowing her head before walking out and leaving Jon and you alone.

“What is it?” You ask Jon and break away from your spot to approach him with a small smile. “Are you okay?” You ask and press your hands gently on his chest.

Jon meets your gaze for a second before he drops his head and sighs deeply whilst a frown forms on his lips, cluing you that this wasn’t a pleasant visit.

“What’s wrong?” You ask Jon more seriously now.

“How did you know about Daenerys?” He asks without hesitation.

You blink in surprise and scoff softly. “Bran,” you tell him the partial truth, since Bran did confirm that Daenerys did get pregnant after her wedding, after your spell.

Jon meets your gaze regardless of your answer as if he could read your mind, and presses. “Is that all? Why didn’t you share the news then?”

You shrug. “I just thought it would be surprising if I announced it when I told them too. Why does it matter?” You turn around and begin to walk back to the balcony.

Jon follows slowly and retorts. “Why does it matter? Because we’re supposed to be doing all this together. You’re supposed to share stuff with me y/n.”

You sigh and turn to face him and press on the matter carelessly. “I’m sorry I just didn’t think it was such a big deal.”

Jon holds your gaze for a second before you look away and try and turn back to continue towards Helios still flying outside your window.

“I like to think I know you well enough to tell when you’re lying,” he adds, making you hold your breath. “Please tell me I’m wrong about this matter. Tell me you’re not hiding anything about this y/n.”

You slowly breathe out as you approach the window, and argue back. “Does it matter if I am or aren't?”

Footsteps approach before he interjects. “It does. We are man and wife, you’re…you’re my best friend. Don’t you trust me?”

You let out a deep sigh and nod softly. “I do, but…” you pause and grip onto the windows railing.

“Tell me,” he insists.

“There’s just somethings you wouldn't understand,” you share and turn slowly to face him. “Things from my culture that you don’t understand.”

Jon blinks in slight disbelief before he sighs and counters. “What things?” He asks. “Help me understand then. We’re partners, help me understand because if it’s about Rhaenar than I do understand, I know you’re pain.”

You scoff and slowly shake your head. “But you don’t,” You counter. “You don’t understand my pain, my grief. He wasn’t your son, he was mine, and…everyday that passes without him I break a little inside. You—you will hopefully never feel such pain with our children, I don’t want you to. So you don’t understand Jon. You wouldn't understand why I did what I did.”

Jon holds your gaze for a moment, letting you see the wave of emotions that pass in his gaze; disbelief, hurt and confusion. “Then help me, tell me.” He insists

You hesitate for a moment, you just hold his gaze as you debate between telling him or not. But he wants to know so you do. “She was barren,” you begin to explain and stay where you are. “I did a spell that made her fertile again. Not so long after she got married Bran told me about her expecting a babe of her own. That’s all I did.”

Jon’s gaze widens and he finally closes the gap between the two of you before retorting. “Magic? You used magic?”

“It’s a war Jon—” you cut him off. “It’s a war. And it didn’t harm anyone, it was just one spell. So please don’t judge me. Magic is a part of my culture as a Valyrian. My ancestors did it, I did it before, I did it now with Daenerys, but that’s all.”

Jon parts his lips and scoffs with disbelief before he shakes his head and turns around to gather his thoughts. You stay put and watch him before you add one more thing. “A son for a son, that’s all I want. She…she needs to feel my pain, she—”

“You can’t let your anger cloud your judgment, y/n,” Jon cuts you off and turns around abruptly to face you, causing your breath to catch at the sound of his words since those words are something you’ve heard before…from your uncle Doran.

He’s gone now too. He along with everyone else.

He said those words to you before he died.

“You’ll just become one of them,” Jon adds. “You want to fight against that. You can’t become what you fear. I will support you, but not if you keep secrets, not if you kill innocent lives.”

Tears begin to fill your eyes, and your legs begin to weaken before you fall to your knees and drop your head to cry quietly.

Jon sighs and falls on his own knees to grab your cheeks and lift your face. “I,” he says. “I know our cultures are different. I can try and understand all that…magic stuff, but not if it involves sacrificing innocent lives. If Daenerys has her babe, you can’t harm it. You’ll get no relief from it, only more pain. Take her throne, get rid of her armies, but not her child. You’re better than that, I know it.”

Tears fall from your eyes, and you can’t help but drop your head as guilt begins to slam into you. “I did it,” you cry. “I did do it…but they were dying already…I just…I'm sorry. I just miss him.” You begin to sob and push his hands away out of your own shame. “Please don’t leave me. Please don’t judge me…please…I need you.”

Jon watches you for a second as he process your words before wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for an embrace. “My love,” he whispers. “I’m here. Always. I love you. Just promise me it’s the last time. Just promise me you won’t harm her child when it comes.”

You hold onto him and nod stiffly. “I promise,” you whisper but don’t mean it.

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Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject @dark-night-sky-99 @starwarsslut @stargaryenx @defiantblade12 @cloudroomblog

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[damn-stark]

Chapter 5 Blue Winter rose

Chapter 5 of Sandstorm

A/N- it’s getting juicier!!!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, slowburn, suggested sexual content, talks of pregnancy and abortian.

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x01

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“I had this entire speech prepared about how stupid your reasons were,” he answers your question and takes a step closer to you.

You should tell him to get away. You should stand back, listen to yourself and the restrictions you have on him. It's not good that he stands so close, that he also glances at your lips with a sense of desire.

But right now your mind doesn’t control you, your heart aches for him. You let him approach you.

“But all I need to say is that,” he continues and takes one last step towards you, leaving only a gap so small that it only need be closed with your lips. “I want you. You’re valuable to me. That’s all that matters. People can’t tell us what to do. I don't want people choosing how to live my life, do you?”

You meet his gaze with your lips parted and just gape like a fish out of water. Being left speechless is such a rare occurrence, but he is one of the few people who can cause such an effect.

“Since the moment I met you my life finally feels right, like I’m no longer in the shadows,” he continues to say, only making your heartache deeper, only erasing what you had told yourself about him. “Since the moment I met you, you never felt like a stranger, it’s felt like…we’ve lived—”

“Shut up,” you finally find yourself being able to speak and then close that gap left by crashing your lips on his. No more holding back, no matter debating and overthinking.

And just as expected Jon’s pink lips are soft, his kisses are sweet as he is. He’s not rough and impatient, he’s gentle and caring.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he pulls back.

You cup his hands that are cupping your cheeks and don’t overthink it, you don’t think about the potential match he could have with your aunt, you don't think about anyone but him and you.

“I won’t let people control my life. Not when it comes to you, Jon.” You say, “I just want you.”

Jon smiles softly and presses his forehead against yours, making you grin softly and cup his jaw. He doesn’t rush to bed or to kiss you, he doesn’t rush to take off your clothes, he lingers there in your presence as if he’s trying to remember every aspect of you.

It’s sweet, but now it makes you impatient.

“You do know how to do this right?” You tease him. “I can start taking off my clothes if you don’t know.”

Jon scoffs and pulls back to meet your gaze. “Shut up,” he snaps back quietly before he presses a kiss on your lips, and then takes you in with a tender passion that you’ve been missing in your life.

He lights a fire in you so bright and so hot that you didn’t know was left cold and untouched.

Eventually night turns to dawn, and even still he leaves you craving for more. And not in a bad way, where he was selfish the entire night and didn’t meet your needs, no, that wasn’t him. Jon left you craving for more in the best way possible, in the way that made you want to start again and again because you can never get enough of him.

However, people would ask questions, so you just have to enjoy the little time you have left.

“Maybe,” you whisper, “we can say that I’ve fallen incredibly seasick. Or maybe that we left on dragonback, hm?”

Jon keeps his eyes closed as he tries to gain some sleep. “Are you not supposed to be sleeping?” He grumbles.

You shift around on your bed to face him. “I tried,” you whisper and rest your palm on his chest to trace the scars on his chest. “But I started dreaming so I woke up.”

Jon slowly opens his eyes and shifts them over to meet your gaze. “Was it bad?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. It was a good one…I think. It feels that way anyway.” You sigh. “It was the same one I’ve had the past nights, the one I have painted over there,” you point to the painting of the Blue Winter rose.

Jon turns his head to look, you see him slightly narrow his gaze to study it for a moment before he finally parts his lips to speak. “A Winter rose? And the Heart tree from Winterfell?”

You lift your head off your pillow and peel your eyes back wider. “That tree? How do you know?” You probe.

Jon looks up at you and answers, “I have walked those grounds all my life, I would know them blind.”

You look back at the painting before you get out of bed without bothering to put your clothes back on, and examine the painting from closer. “This,” you point. “This is the Weirwood tree from your home?” You look back at him and see his eyes roaming your body. “Jon?”

He snaps his eyes up and nods.

“Okay,” you breathe out and step back from the painting to think.

The tree is the same one you painted on the painting of the dead around the weirwood tree, the exact same one, so it means that whatever this new dream means has something to do with Winterfell as well.

What does it mean exactly is the dilemma.

Fuck.

“What does it mean?” Jon breaks you from your thoughts as you hear him sitting up.

You shrug. “That's what I want to know too…” you trail off and then groan.

“Come on don’t break your head over it, you’ll figure it out,” Jon tries to comfort you.

You blink and look up before you sigh and turn to face him. “I wish I could know now. It would help me stress out less.” You sigh and walk back to bed, but now walk to his side to climb over him.

“You’ll grow white hairs if you stress out too much, you know that?” Jon teases you as he caresses the side of your head.

You feign a laugh and shoot him a pointed glare. “Well it’s a good thing that I have silver hair then,” you grumble.

“Aye.” He smiles that charming smile that you can’t stay upset at.

“At home,” he continues. “We have a glass garden, and in it are Blue Winter roses, the most beautiful roses in the entire world. I’ll make you a crown from them, it will look beautiful on your silver-white hair.”

You begin to grin softly and whisper back, “you better.”

Jon slides his hand down to your cheek to caress that instead, letting you press a kiss on his palm before you bring up something that you thought about earlier.

“This that we have, I need you to keep it a secret,” you share, and make his smile disappear. “Not forever, just until I’m ready to tell Daenerys and everyone else.”

Jon swallows thickly. “You want me to lie?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Just omit the truth for a bit. Because I don’t know how Daenerys will take it. I mean she’s already so sensitive. What if she takes this the wrong way? What if she sees it as some sort of betrayal?”

“Why should she?”

“Just please,” you plead softly. “My relationship with her is still so new, I don’t want to strain it, just please do it for me.”

Jon let’s out a deep sigh and averts his gaze. “So are we not going to see each other anymore?” He asks.

You smirk and tilt your head to the side to meet his gaze. “Of course we are, I never said we had to stop. I just need to figure her out, and figure out what it will mean if we choose not to hide because unfortunately we don’t live simple lives.”

Jon hums in agreement.

“Just know you do make me happy,” you whisper.

Jon offers you a soft smile and presses a kiss on your lips before he assure you, “all right, I’ll do it, I will keep it a secret.”

——

*A MONTH LATER*

“Oh by the gods,” you groan and step back to face the mirror. “I feel very bloated…” you trail off and look at yourself, but see nothing different.

“Maybe that time of the month is coming soon,” Daenerys mentions.

You hum in agreement and don’t think much of it, instead you return to the dress options you have laying on your bed. “The black dress, or the gray one?” You ask and tilt your head slightly; they’re both somewhat similar, the gray one just offers more cover, whereas the black one is off the shoulders, but paired with gold necklaces.

They both have fur inside the dress, but the gray dress has tight sleeves, whereas the black one has long sleeves. They’re both long and very elegant, they’re both paired with golden armor that just covers the breasts, so it’s more of a piece of jewelry. They’re both beautiful.

“The black dress,” Daenerys suggests.

You smile and nod in agreement. “Good, I was thinking that exact same thing.” You grab the dress off your bed and hide behind your divider to put on your dress and light weight armor. Finding in that moment that it felt a bit smug against your breasts.

“Could someone help me tie this armor,” you interject and walk out.

Without question Missandei leaves Daenerys' side and helps you tie the tight armor, letting Daenerys approach you to brush back the strands of silver-white hair behind your ears.

“Never a dull moment,” you says with a soft smile.

You scoff. “Life would be boring if I lived that way.”

Daenerys laughs and nods. “I like that about you, you know that.”

You meet her gaze as you shift the golden chains that hang down your chest. “Now I do.” You shoot her a smug smile.

Once you feel Missandei finish tying the armor you thank her, and walk to your desk to pick up the golden cuff bracelet that has golden chains connected to rings and put it on quickly before you rush to the door.

“Y/N,” Daenerys calls out just as you’re going to open the door.

You look back and hum to probe.

Daenerys walks over to you and stops inches away to study you, keeping her gaze on your chest for a lingering second before meeting your gaze and fixing your necklace.

“Uh,” you laugh breathlessly. “Thank you…uh, now I have to go check on my child.” You offer them both a smile and bow your head before opening the door and walking out to the deck where Rhaenar already is watching the approaching snow covered land.

“Rhaenar,” you call, causing him to pull away from the side and turn to face you.

He meets you halfway and immediately frowns.

“What is it?” You ask and see that his hair is already styled, and his clothes are straight, as if someone helped him.

Rhaenar lets out a deep sigh before he shares, “it’s colder than I thought it would be. The furs under my clothes aren’t helping.”

You examine him and see he’s not wearing his cloak. “Where’s your cloak?” You ask.

“It’s heavy, it weighs me down. I can’t move as freely with it on.” He says and doesn’t seem like he’s going to run to his cabin to put it on.

You hum and watch him step back from you as footsteps approach from behind you. When you look back you see Jon joining your side. And right away you see his eyes slowly wander your body before you lock eyes and share a faint smile.

“So,” you add and look back at Rhaenar. “Who helped you get ready? You usually still have everything crooked even if you say you’re ready.”

“Ser Jorah,” he reveals. “He’s very nice to me. He’s like how I imagine a grandsire would be like,” he says without hesitation, making both Jon and you laugh.

“That’s,” you clear your throat. “Very nice. I’m glad you’re getting along. Now, do you want to ride on horseback to Winterfell, or ride in a carriage with Tyrion and Lord Varys, hm?”

Without as much as even thinking about his answer Rhaenar responds, “carriage, it will be somewhat warmer in there. Now,” he adds as he begins to step away. “I’m going to grab Helios, we’re about to dock.” Without anything else to add he runs off to go do what he said, letting Jon walk over to stand before you.

“You’ll be cold,” he points out with a very faint smirk.

You shrug his concern off. “I don’t mind it, don’t worry.”

Jon scoffs. “I worry, you’re a Southern girl who grew up in one of the most hottest places of the Seven Kingdoms, the North is the opposite of what you’re used to.”

“Maybe, but when else could I wear this dress?”

Jon rolls his eyes and tries to take a step closer, but as he sees more people fill the deck the closer you get to the dock, he keeps his distance.

“I am…” you continue a bit quieter. “Quite nervous,” you admit and clasp your hands together. “Being here, walking amongst all the people. I just…I’m not used to really being the center of attention. I used to hide, you know, I would dye my hair and keep a distance for my own safety. I’m not used to this sort of attention anymore.”

Jon lets out a soft sigh and offers you an assuring look. “Yes, the Northerners don’t much trust outsiders, but they aren’t as rowdy as the people from King’s Landing.”

You begin to grin in amusement and poke at him. “And this is based on what knowledge? The one time you went to the Capital?”

Jon scoffs and shakes his head. “I just know.”

You scoff softly and nod slowly. “All right, well I’ll trust you, Jon Snow.”

Jon holds your gaze thereafter before he looks around you to make sure no one is looking before he leans in closer to lower his voice. “I hate it that I can’t kiss you right now.”

Your heart skips a beat and your smile turns all shy. You part your lips to add something, but in that moment you see Qhono pass by, making your words get stuck in the back of your throat.

However, you aren’t going to shame yourself because you shared two nights of…passion, if you can even call it that. So instead you meet Jon’s gaze and offer him a smile with confidence, making sure Qhono saw.

Maybe it’s a bitchy to do, but you don’t care. At least you don’t care if he sees and figures out what Jon and you have, because if Daenerys or anyone else of importance were to find out at this current moment, the news will probably wouldn’t be taken lightly, at least not from your side.

Who knows how Jons family would react.

“I will talk to Daenerys and the others soon,” you assure him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon assures you.

You offer him a quick smile before you look past him and watch the ship dock. Disembarking the ship happens quickly after that, people whisk you away and take you to your horse that’s already lined up behind Daenerys and Jon. And the moment you mount that horse is the moment that stares begin to pass from the townsfolk; they’re not pleasant or welcoming looks either.

The looks that every Northern gives you and everyone else that you came with are hard pointed gazes, judgemental, and bitter. And it seems that those looks are more obvious when the people notice the typical silver-white hair that your Targaryen family is known for. It’s like they’re looks are filled with hate when they figure out who you and Daenerys are.

The distrust may be justifiable but it doesn’t make it any less unpleasant and uncomfortable. And the entire ride is like that, even as you reach the town outside of the castle. It makes it hard to really take in every perimeter you pass.

You do your best to ignore them and not let it get to your head. You’re here to help after all, their outlook on you and everyone else will change when they see. Furthermore you would have behaved the same way if strangers had gone to Dorne too.

Albeit, as understanding as you are trying to be, that understanding quickly falters as Drogon, Eraxis and Rhaegal screech out from the sky and let everyone know that the rumors are true, dragons are reborn.

As Drogon flies past, Eraxis quickly follows at tow, causing you to look up and beam at her; Rhaegal soon follows the other two, and chaos ensues amongst the townsfolk. Their once judgmental faces turn to horror, and that kind of gladdens you.

It’s cruel, sure, but you’re only human.

Regardless, the ride to the inside of the castle isn’t long thereafter, Jon rides ahead once you reach the courtyard, leaving Daenerys and you to get off your horses.

While she waits to be introduced you walk over to the carriage that carries your son, and watch him climb down with his dragon on his shoulder.

“Smile, remember,” you whisper to him as you grab his other shoulder and walk him over to join Daenerys' side.

And without a second to spare, before you can take everything in, Jon then signals all of you over with his look alone.

And the first one to walk over is Daenerys.

“Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen,” Jon introduces your aunt to his sister, Lady Sansa Stark, his brother Brandon Stark on the wheelchair, and everyone else that was formed behind them.

He then meets your gaze and adds a faint smile to your introduction. “Princess, Y/N of House Targaryen and House Martell.” His gaze then shifts, and you nudge Rhaenar forward. “And the Queen’s chosen heir, the Princess’s son, Prince Rhaenar Targaryen.”

All eyes shift to the boy and his orange dragon, and they all give them both questioning looks, whilst out of courtesy Rhaenar bows his head as a greeting, making Sansa smile before she only briefly meets your gaze since Jon then steals the attention.

“My sister, Sansa Stark, the Lady of Winterfell.”

“Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark,” Daenerys interjects with a gentle smile. “The North is as beautiful as your brother claimed, as are you.”

You shift your gaze to Sansa and see her look Daenerys up and down first with that same obviously feigned smile anyone could read from miles…

Well the observant people anyway.

“Winterfell is yours, Your Grace,” Sansa says in that same feigned politeness.

Honestly, it reminds you of Cersei when she talked to your uncle and Ellaria. They both share that same way to display their politeness in such a clever and menacing way.

Yet how can you blame Sansa for behaving like her? She was a wolf raised by lions. She had to adapt to survive.

Be that as it may, when her eyes fall on you her lips do slightly twitch to display a more genuine smile.

“Your hair is different,” she says.

You scoff softly and smile wider. “You’re alive.”

She looks older, wiser, more beautiful, less sad, and more threatening. Then again she’s now in the comfort of her home.

“I’m glad.” you add

Sansa offers you a faint smirk and you mirror it. And just as you see Jon’s happy smile, you also catch Daenerys discreet side glare.

“We don’t have time for all this,” Bran suddenly cuts in. “The Night King has your dragon,” he continues, making your smile fall and your gaze drift to Daenerys to catch her own frown.

“He’s one of them now,” Bran adds. “The Wall has fallen, the dead march south.”

——

*LATER*

“As soon as we heard about the Wall,” Sansa speaks to the people gathered within the hall. “I called all our banners to retreat to Winterfell. Lord Umber…”

Seconds later a boy that looks no older than Rhaenar pops his head out.

“…when can we expect your people to arrive?” Sansa asks.

The boy stands up and walks to the center of the hall to face the table you were sitting by in between Daenerys and Tyrion.

“We need more horses and wagons, if it please my lady,” he says nervously. “And my lord.” His eyes then shift again to the woman beside you. “And my Queen.” He looks over at you now to address you too. “And my Princess. Sorry.”

You offer him a gentle smile and assure him softly, “it’s okay.”

The boy nods with gratitude before Sansa speaks. “You’ll have as many as we can spare. Hurry back to Last Hearth and bring your people here.”

The boy bows before he walks out, letting Jon interject now with more orders. “We need to send ravens to the Night's Watch as well. There’s no sense in manning the castles anymore. We make our stand here.”

“At once, Your Grace,” a man says before footsteps recede and the sound of chains echo away.

“Your Grace,” a young voice cuts in, drifting your eyes to the crowd where you see a very small young girl stand up and face the table. “But you’re not. Are you? You left Winterfell a King and came back a—I’m not sure what you are now.”

You smile faintly at her bluntness, and admire such boldness.

“A lord?” She continues. “Nothing at all?”

“It’s not important,” Jon says.

“Not important?” She rebuttals. “We named you King in the North.”

The people exclaim in support of the Lady’s words, making Daenerys and you share a brief look. However, she seems more upset than you.

“You did, my Lady,” Jon continues to add. “It was the honor of my life, I’ll always be grateful for your faith. But when I left Winterfell,” he says as he stands up. “I told you we need allies or we all die, I have brought those allies home to fight alongside us. I had a choice, keep my crown or protect the North. I chose the North.”

People murmur amongst each other over the news, and none are whispers of support but rather complaints over actions he thought were right for his own people. He risked his life to show the enemy in the South proof, he risked life to show Daenerys proof too, they had to know that.

It’s why you interject.

When Jon hears your chair scrape, and catches you standing from the corner of his eye, he fully turns his head to look over at you. You briefly glance over at him and share a discreet soft look before you look at the crowd and speak in his defense.

“If anyone survives the war to come, we’ll have Jon Snow to thank. He risked his life to show us the threat is real. Thanks to his courage, we have brought with us the greatest army the world has ever seen. We have brought three full-grown dragons. And with me a small Dornish army prepared to give their lives for this battle to come.”

The looks don’t change from their hard judgmental stares, but there is no protest now.

“And soon,” you hear Tyrion interject, letting you sit back down and watch him walk to the center of the room so he can be seen. “The Lannister army will ride North to join our cause.”

Or so he hopes.

Furthermore,the people aren’t too happy about that news either.

“I know, I know our people haven’t been friends in the past,” Tyrion tries to assure them. “But we must fight together now, or die.”

“May I ask,” Sansa cuts in, earning everyone’s attention. “How are we meant to feed the greatest army the world has ever seen?” She asks. “While I ensured our stores would last through winter, I didn’t account for Dothraki, Unsullied and three full-grown dragons. What do dragons eat, anyway?”

Why does she have to sound so mean? Sure she has every right to ask, there are hundreds of people she has to feed, but there’s no need to be so hostile.

“Whatever they want,” Daenerys snaps back.

That’s the wrong way to answer too, Sansa is afterall looking out for her people.

That’s not to say you don’t like Daenerys’s response, you do, it fills you with pride, but just as you thought of smirking or just being snarky, suddenly you get hit with a sudden wave of warmth all over your body. Here in all places, after just feeling chilly in front of the fireplace.

You ignore it though. Just like you ignore the beads of sweat that you feel forming on your forehead, and dampening other parts of your body.

“Not so long ago, the Lannister stole from the Reach,” you cut in to ease Sansa’s stress. “We counterattacked and made sure to save as many wagons of wheat and other food as we could. Some food was also brought from Dorne, it should be enough to feed our army and add more to your stores for the winter, my Lady.”

You look over at Sansa, and she glances over at you to offer you an appreciative nod.

Soon after that the meeting is disbanded, and as much as you would have wanted to talk to Jon now after not speaking since the morning, you let him be and instead follow Daenerys to her quarters. And the entire way there all you feel is the sudden warmth just basking your entire body, making you feel quite uncomfortable.

“Mother,” Rhaenar speaks just as you reach Daenerys' room.

You swallow thickly and hum.

“May I go out and explore?”

You stop just before you can walk inside after Daenerys and Missandei, to face him.

This place was new, filled with people that didn’t like your family, you would prefer he stayed close. But to keep him locked away would only make him rebel, and it’s better if the people see him out amongst them too.

“Uhm, fine, but don't wander too far, and don’t take too long we’re going to try and get some teachings before dinner.”

Rhaenar nods eagerly before he turns and runs off,

“Please don’t lose your guards!” You yell after him.

“Of course not mama!”

You sigh and watch him until he turns the hall, letting you join Daenerys in her room.

“I don’t think Jon’s sister likes me all that much,” she points out once the door is closed.

Without waiting a moment longer you walk to the nearest window to open the shutters so the cold breeze can refreshen you.

“You just have to give her time,” you assure Daenerys as you turn away from the window to watch her pace. “She’s the lady of Winterfell. She has every right to be skeptical.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I’ve come to save the North, she has the right to be grateful.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “We’ve come to help defeat the army of the dead for all of Westeros,” you correct her. “And the North. Remember if you don’t they only get further South, we’ve come to help.”

Daenerys stops walking and snaps her head over to you to stare at you with a cold gaze. She doesn’t add anything, she just shoots you a cold glare before she then looks at the open shutters and points that out.

“Are you not cold enough already?”

You drop your gaze and scoff in disbelief of your own. “You’d think, but in all honesty I’m feeling quite…hot,” you whisper and sigh.

Footsteps approach, and as you look up you see Daenerys get close to stare at you with a more curious look. Yet you don’t question her and just share an incoming thought. “We should have dinner with the Starks, it will be nice to break the tension, don’t you think?”

Daenerys keeps her eyes lingering on you for a second longer before she scoffs and then shares a look with Missandei, and paces again. “Are you sure they’ll like that?” She retorts.

You giggle and rebuttal, “sweet Dany, we have no hostility against them, all right? They’re allies. And my uncle always said that we treat our allies the same way we treat our friends. This will be us doing that.”

Daenerys stops in her tracks and snaps her gaze to you to shoot you a pointed look. “Are you talking to me like you talk to your son?”

You shoot her a teasing smile and shake your head. “No. I’m advising you.”

Daenerys hums and turns away to then sit at the end of her bed. “Well then I advise you to talk to a maester about the sudden hot flash you had,” she counters.

You walk away from the window and scoff. “Why would I? I’m probably going to start bleeding soon. That’s why.”

Daenerys looks at you up and down and hums softly in comprehension, catching your attention, but not enough to let you question her tone, instead you just excuse yourself and walk off to your own chambers. Which isn’t far from her room, and that’s quite an unfavorable thing for when Jon visits you in the night of the owl, or when you go to his quarters; she…isn’t much for sleeping too long and you aren’t quite ready to tell her.

What will you do now then? Will he have to sneak through the large window like if you’re a pair of teenagers? Or are there secret halls here behind the walls? Maybe Eraxis can give him a lift.

Or…you can tell her, he’d say, you can hear his deep voice and Northern accent already in your head.

But, not yet. Soon.

How though?

You groan and throw yourself on the bed to stare up at tall the ceiling to think.

Yet once you feel the mattress under your body, and feel your body finally return to its normal temperature you’re suddenly overcome with fatigue. Like if you haven’t slept for days.

You try to brush it off, you stand up and pull out the paintings you brought with you, you step towards the window to look out at all the towers that can be seen from your room. But the cold air doesn’t wake you up, nor does the sight of white sparkling snow excite you, instead you end up returning to bed to just rest your eyes. Just for a few minutes and then you’ll go out and walk the grounds….

Nevertheless, you don’t keep track of time, you only wake up because of the knock that raps on your door before it opens.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice whispers.

You let out a deep yawn and sit up, noticing Jon poking his head inside before he walks in. Your eyes still feel heavy from all the grogginess, but you don’t fail to shoot him a happy grin before you slide off bed, making sure he closes the door before you run up to him filled with excitement.

“Jon,” you utter happily.

Said man offers you a happy smile and meets you half away, making sure to immediately cup your cheeks and just admire you.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he shares. “Rhaenar told me you were in here sleeping.”

Your smile falters, and just as you peer out the window you notice that the sun is beginning to set now.

“Oh, damn,” you mutter. “We were going to try and get some teachings in. Where is he?” You ask and meet his gaze.

“Last I saw of him, Greyworm took him to train,” Jon shares.

And the boy of course didn’t try to wake you. At least he’s doing something productive.

“Where have you been?” You probe sweetly and cup his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard on your palm.

Jon sighs. “I met with my sister Arya in the Godswood.”

You offer him a soft smile as you begin to caress his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “How was that?” You quiere since he’s mentioned that it’s been years, and he had thought she died.

Jon’s eyes wander your chambers before he lets out another sigh. “She’s older. She’s changed.”

You scoff softly. “That happens.”

Jon drops his gaze to shoot you a pointed glare that makes you laugh.

“I missed you,” you interject to change that frown.

And as expected his lips tug just slightly.

“I saw you not long ago,” he mutters a bit flustered.

You giggle. “Tell me about it.” You then lean in and press a sweet kiss on his lips.

He pulls back briefly to smile wider before he pulls you in for a deeper kiss that you melt into.

However, as in sync as you both are, he doesn’t let the kiss develop into anything else, he pulls away and goes a bit more serious. “How are you liking Winterfell so far?” He asks.

You let your smile fall as you shrug. “I couldn’t give you an answer considering I haven’t had time to see anything,” you say.

Jon hums and pulls away from you. “Well,” he adds. “Come on then.”

You beam at him and follow him out of your room. It’s not longer after that, as you’re walking down the halls that you ask your first question. “I do have a query, how does the castle stay warm? Especially in the cold weather?”

Jon glances at you and then looks ahead before answering. “The castle was built over natural hot springs. That water is piped throughout the castle, making the water warm and the rooms comfortable to stay in.”

You hum softly in comprehension and glance around at the gray stone walls, finding what he said quite interesting. Also finding a mischievous thought growing in your mind.

“And these hot springs are there anymore around Winterfell? One where someone, or two people can dip into?” You probe and clasps your hands back as you look at him with a sweet smile.

Jon eyes shift to you, but there behind those dark eyes you don’t see that he’s understood what you mean, making it a lot more funnier.

“Yes,” he answers. “Many.”

You would have shared your true meaning but it’s too dangerous inside the halls, who knows who’s lurking or just coming around the corner, so instead you smile and see that he’s walking outside to a less busy area that isn’t overrun by all the people.

“Where are you taking me now Lord Snow?” You investigate as you walk in between stone buildings, noticing that as far as castles go these towers aren't tall, but the walls that surround the castle are; in the day they most likely cast shadows over most of the grounds and most buildings.

“Glass garden,” Jon shares and grabs your hand as he sees no one around. “Inside it’s probably the kind of warmth you’re used to,” he continues to add. “The hot springs provide the earth with warmth, letting us grow fruits, vegetables, flowers and different plants.” He opens the door and lets you walk inside first.

Right away as you walk in you’re hit with a rich earthy smell that overpowers the smells of mud and smoke that fills the air outside. Right away you take note of the beams of dimming light that reflect inside and bask the greenhouse in a beautiful twinkling hue. Right away you also know he’s right, it is hot inside—it’s a good that you aren’t covered in furs, or having those hot flashes at the moment; you’d be melting.

Moreover, you’re completely overcome with awe by everything, by how big it is inside; there’s rows of different vegetables being grown; tomatoes, carrots. There’s fruits. Not as excotic as the ones grown in Dorne, but it’s fruit nonetheless; like melons, different rows of colorful berries, green and red apples that cause this unfathomable craving within you.

At the other end is a tall tree with small pink flowers that tower over every other plant inside.

“What’s grown from the pink tree?” You ask as you follow him down rows of smaller plants that are all grown in different pots on tables.

Jon interlaces his fingers with yours and shares the answer, “peaches. I suppose they’ll be blossoming soon.”

You hum with interest and glance at the upcoming apple tree, finding yourself biting your lip just a bit.

Jon notices your dilated pupils and lets your hand fall to your side so he can pluck a ripe red apple from one of the small trees.

“Here,” he says when he falls before you again. “Taste it, it’s sweet.”

You hold his gaze as you take the round fruit from his gloved hand, and only glance down at it as you bring it to your lips. Before you take a bite though you breathe in a whiff and smell the sweetness of it already.

But once your teeth sink into it, as the juices rush into your mouth and make your tastebuds dance with the sweet, sweet taste. Once you bite and all you can hear is the hard crunch before you swallow, you get overcome with joy

“That is,” you grin brightly. “Delicious. Satisfied my craving.”

Jon’s eyes soften and his smile does as well as he watches you take another bite. When you notice him you smile and push it towards him to offer him a bite.

He albeit turns you down and grabs your other hand to continue you walking down. “Sansa seems to like you,” Jon mentions.

You hum and cover your mouth to swallow before interjecting. “There’s a difference between you thinking it and facts, my love…”

Jon smirks at the sound of the pet name you utter without thought, but chooses not to comment on it.

“She could make it seem like she likes me, but she really doesn’t, you get what I’m saying?” You finish saying.

Jon hums and looks down before he shakes his head.

You sigh and take a bite from your apple before you explain it. “It’s just…hm,” you swallow your apple. “Nevermind. All I’ll tell you is that I do want to be her friend, and I hope it happens.”

Jon lifts his gaze, but doesn’t add anything in the regard.

“Actually,” you continue as he keeps walking you down the greenhouse. “I had the idea that maybe we can have dinner. Your family and mine. I think it will be good to meet one another more, break the tension.” You meet his gaze and press for an answer. “What do you think? I mean I think it might be late for dinner, but we can break fast together before we get to work.”

Without debating Jon nods. “I think that is a great idea, I’ll tell my siblings and set it up.”

You shoot him a happy smile and feel him begin to caress the back of your hand with his thumb. You finish your apple and try to add something else, but you then go speechless when you see beautiful bushels of blue roses.

“It’s the Blue Winter roses I told you about,” Jon cuts in through the silence, choosing to let you go so he can walk over to the bushel and pluck a single Blue Winter rose. He then returns to you and grabs your hand so he can wrap your fingers just under the bud.

“Careful,” he warns softly. “It has thorns.”

You scoff. “Thorns,” you mock his voice. “Whatever will I do?” You laugh and shoot him a playful smile before you drop your eyes and admire the Blue Winter rose.

You pull it up to your nose and breathe in a small whiff of the sweet fragrance. You then pull it down and twirl it slowly in your fingers to admire the deep blue petals, and the violet and light blue veins that make it that much more beautiful.

“Here,” he whispers and takes the rose from your hand to snap the stem off. “It goes beautifully with your silver hair.” He proceeds to meet your gaze as he raises the rose, and tucks your hair back behind your ear to place the rose behind your ear. “Beautiful,” he coos and caress your arms.

You flash him a flustered smile and throw your apple core aside to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close to you.

“You’re beautiful,” he continues to tell you in a sweet way.

Your heart begins to do flips in your chest and your lips tingle with the craving of his taste, so before he can say anything else you crash your lips into his.

Jon smiles and doesn’t hesitate to cup your face and deepen the kiss, making sure to be sweet and gentle, yet passionate at the same time.

Once again you begin to burn, but this time it’s because of him. Because you want him. But considering where you are you can’t let that develop, instead you pull back, making sure to tug his bottom lip just slightly before you giggle and press your forehead against his.

Neither of you say anything, you linger in the comfortable silence, you bask in each other's company, and find solace in each other's arms.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Oh.

This doesn’t look appetizing.

The tart, and especially not the strawberry jam. The smell of it swirls in your nose and causes your heart to race, tiny beads of cold sweat to break on your forehead, and saliva to fill your cheeks.

Vomit…that’s what is trying to come up.

You swallow down the clump of saliva and push the plate of tart back, instead you grab the orange juice that was made thanks to the oranges that were brought from Dorne.

“Mother,” Rhaenar whispers.

You hum and drift your eyes to the side. “Yes?” You whisper—As if that would disrupt anything going on around the table, it’s been utterly fucking silent since they served breakfast, it’s like everyone had their tongues cut off.

“Are you alright?” Rhaenar asks, making you put the cup down and hurry to swallow the liquid—“you didn’t eat your tarts.”

You offer him a gentle smile and assure his concern. “Yeah, I'm just….”

Just what? Oddly nauseous and disgusted over something you like?

“…I'm really not hungry for them. Eat them if you like.”

Rhaenar shakes his head. “I was worried, that’s all.”

You scoff softly and ruffle his hair.

“Y/N,” Jon finally breaks the damn silence. “Has dreams that come true sometimes.”

You grab your cup and offer everyone a partial and awkward smile.

“Is it true that in Dorne women are allowed to fight?” Jon’s sister, Arya, blurts and changes the subject.

You lower your cup and smile with more pleasure now as you drift your eyes to the girl that looked very similar to Jon.

They have the same hair style, albeit her hair is lighter. They carry the same rugged Northerner look that Sansa nor Bran share. Arya does have lighter eyes though, and her look is much more menacing.

“Yes,” you nod. “Well…highborn ladies aren't really allowed to train, but I made it so I could train too just like my sisters and my cousin.” You begin to smirk. “Albeit I was both of my uncle's favorites so they spoiled me. But yes women can fight in Dorne.”

Arya lets out a small interested hum and shoves in a piece of bread in her mouth kind of sloppily, causing Sansa to curl the corner of her lip in disgust.

“You,” you point to Arya. “Jon tells me you're a warrior yourself. How did that come to be? I mean considering the men of Westeros are against everything we women do,” you jab.

Arya smirks, and Sansa scoffs amusement.

“I had to cross the narrow sea to be taught well,” Arya shares.

You hum and sip from your juice before asking her a question. “By who? May I ask?”

Arya cuts her food and looks down before answering nonchalantly. “No one.”

You part your lips to comment, but Rhaenar beats you to it. “Were you taught by a Faceless man?” He asks eagerly.

Arya narrows her gaze out of curiosity and nods. “Yes, that’s right. Have you heard of them?”

Rhaenar nods as he places his fork down. “Yes, my uncle Oberyn told me about them. He traveled a lot so he had many stories all the time. The God of Death is very interesting. Could you show me a move?!”

Arya smirks and reaches down, but Sansa quickly cuts in. “Later, please Arya. We’re eating.”

Arya meets your sons gaze and leans in. “Meet me by the training yard later, I’ll show you a few things.”

Rhaenar flashes her a grin and nods, making you smile in content before you look over at Jon to share that emotion, to share the fact that your family was getting along.

Jon’s gaze albeit first went to Rhaenar before it then bounces to his sister, and lastly finds you to share that same content smile.

Thankfully no one catches it. At least not Daenerys. As to any of the others, well it’s not like you’re being discreet, just a bit foolish.

Regardless, silence follows after that, that same awkward silence. You want to involve Daenerys in a conversation, but it seems that neither she nor Sansa are so eager to speak, if they do it’s dry and short. Thankfully, Ser Jorah and Jon share a conversation, but that too is short and doesn’t do much to build up any other conversations after.

“Mother,” Rhaenar cuts in. “Why don’t you tell them about the story when you got stranded in the desert.”

All eyes fall to you, and Daenerys is actually the first one to press on the matter. “Please do.”

You let out a breathless laugh and nod. “Okay,” you give in and push your main plate back. “Well when I was young I was given many lessons on being a ruler and whatnot. One of them involved me being stranded in the desert.” You scoff. “It was a good lesson, taught me survival after being pampered all my life, it showed me how it feels to feel truly desperate for basic needs. To feel what those unfortunate souls who can’t afford much feel everyday.”

“But you’re princess,” Arya says. “You’re basically an heir. Why would they risk your life?”

You hum and explain. “Well, I think there were people close by in case something did happen, but my uncle wanted to teach me a harsh life lesson. I only understood that after, when I got home with both of my feet all blistered, my hands full of splinters from the thorns I had to pluck from the cactus so I could eat. I appreciated my people’s life more, I appreciated life even more.”

“What about Eraxis?” Daenerys asks. “Did she not come help you?”

You shake your head. “No. Even if she did, I wouldn't be able to accept her help. Those were the rules.”

“That’s harsh, but valuable nonetheless,” Ser Jorah interjects.

You hum and nod in agreement.

The rest of breakfast is passed the same, quiet, it makes it almost relieving to finally be done and be out of the hall. Albeit you can’t fully come to bask in that feeling, when you break off alone since Jon is whisked away by some of his men, and Daenerys has to deal with her own things, all you can do is worry about your recent symptoms.

The hot flashes, the bloat, the nausea…There can only be a few reasons. One really—

“Y/N?” A feminine voice breaks you from your thoughts, making your shoulders jump.

You look back and see Sansa walking up from behind you.

“I’m sorry,” she says with a faint smile. “Did I startle you?”

You let out a small sigh and then nod softly. “A little, but it’s all right. I was just lost in thought.” You watch her until she falls by your side.

“May I?” She asks.

You scoff softly. “It is your home, so of course.”

Sansa scoffs, and then proceeds to look out at the snow covered trees past the gray stone wall you had lost your eyes. “What were you thinking about if I may ask?” She probes.

You follow her line of gaze and smile softly as you come up with a lie. “Home. The sun, the watergardens, the warmth…” you trail off and sigh. “I think I might spend my time in your Glass Garden.”

Sansa's eyes slowly drift to you and her eyebrows knot together in confusion. “You’ve been already?” She asks.

You swallow thickly as you realize what you said and nod slowly. “Your brother showed them to me. They’re beautiful.”

Sansa lets her eyes linger on you and hums, but doesn’t question you any further even if her mind already begins to connect things together.

You then proceed to turn and face her. “May I just say that you have a very beautiful home. I love it here,” you share.

“It looks much better when the castle isn’t filled with so many people,” she adds with a very faint smile. “I hope you will be able to see it then, when it’s quiet and the snow falls over the grounds.”

You hum softly and look up at the white sky. “All I want to see is snow. I have come North already to help your brother beyond the wall, but I didn’t get to really relish it. My uncle says that each little flake has delicate forms to them, like if they were carved by the gods themselves.”

Sansa turns to face you and her smile widens as she nods. “I never much appreciated the snow before, not until I returned from the South, so if you had asked me when we first met, I would say I wouldn’t know. but now I can confirm that it is true.”

You grin brightly and then face the scenery again hoping that the snow would fall at that moment.

But it doesn’t.

“It’s true then,” you mumble. “It’s only once you’re gone from the home you wanted to get away from that you finally learn to appreciate everything you had.” You glance over at her and her lips begin to fall as her eyes begin to express that same sadness. “I had never been away from Sunspear for so long, not until now, and before all I wanted to do was get away. I wanted to really come home, but now,” you scoff softly. “I actually miss it. I miss everything about it. The scratchy sand that would get everywhere, all my sisters, the chilly nights, the water gardens.”

Sansa lets out a deep sigh and nods along softly. “It’s true.”

You hum and lean forward to rest your arms on the railing and let your hands dangle off the edge. “These gray, black and white colors suit you by the way,” you add with a bit more of a lighthearted tone. “It makes you look….”

“Less sad?” She teases you.

You glance over at her and scoff. “More you,” you correct her. “More like Lady Stark, but now that you said that yourself, yes,” you nod. “You do also look less sad. It’s good.”

Sansa hums and adds a comment of her own. “You look less angry.”

You giggle. “Could you really tell? Was it that obvious?”

Sansa can’t help her smile and nods. “Yes, painfully so. At least to those really looking.”

“Well,” you interject. “I come home after decades and see lions and stags everywhere. I see the man that ordered my mother and siblings murdered sitting there without remorse, I was angry I couldn’t take Eraxis with me to burn them down.”

“You should have,” Sansa deadpans. “Regardless.”

You snap your eyes to her and grin in amusement to her bluntness.

Before when you first saw her you thought she might be like every other lady from the capital, pompous and proud. But now that she’s here, in the comfort of her home she’s different.

“I imagined it, everytime Joffrey spoke and belittled someone, I played it over and over in my mind,” you share. “I applaud and admire you for surviving that long with them. I don’t know if I could.”

There’s a moment of silence, Sansa lets out a sigh and returns her gaze back to the trees to watch them for a few more seconds before she speaks. “I barely did.”

You follow her line of gaze and comfort her. “But you did, that’s what counts, regardless of all they did you made it out, they didn’t. That is brave and admirable, and worth being proud over.”

Sansa’s chest falls slowly as a small breath unfurls from her nose, bringing silence with her once more. It’s less tension-filled than before though, and more comfortable. It’s nice.

That is, it was nice for that little time it did last before it was interrupted.

“My Lady,” someone breaks the silence, pulling the attention of you and Sansa back to the maester that stood with his hands tightly at his sides. “Princess.” He bows his head as his gaze falls on you.

You offer him a tight lipped smile and remember your concerns you had been thinking—more so, worrying about.

“Your presence is requested, my Lady Stark.” The maester shares and focuses on Sansa.

Sansa nods stiffly and then turns to face you. “Will you be alright on your own, or do you want me to take you somewhere?”

You offer her a faint assuring smile and shake your head. “I can navigate on my own, I think I know my way to the back gate, if not then I will enjoy exploring your home.”

Sansa scoffs, “okay.”

You watch her leave and once you don’t see her bright red hair anymore you begin to head towards the back part of the castle where everyone else is. Your mind begins to wander to the possibility that might be a fact based on the recent symptoms that have plagued you.

Yet you chose to bring that to an abrupt stop so as to not stress too much, instead you think about Jon, you wonder where he is since you do know that Rhaenar should be reading now. You think about Eraxis and the fact that you haven’t seen her since last night.

Maybe flying will help clear your mind, at least for a bit since the pending problem isn’t avoidable, unfortunately.

And fortunately you do find your way towards the back gate, all you had to do was follow the cluster of people, and the dirt path that already led that way. And actually on your way towards Eraxis you come across Lady Brienne.

“Lady Brienne,” you call, and immediately grab her attention away from the men she was watching train.

“Princess,” she bows her head as you approach her. She actually bowed, ha, nice.

You smile. “You remember me?” You ask.

Lady Brienne nods. “Of course.”

“Well that’s good because my offer is still on the table,” you say, and catch Jon in the distance helping some of his men. “Now, albeit I can offer you the title of Knight, I could talk to the Queen and have a spot open for you. I have only heard more great things.”

Lady Brienne swallows thickly and parts her lips as she blinks rapidly in disbelief. “That’s quite generous of you, Princess. Thank you.”

You shoot her a smile. “Think about it,” you tell her. “Once you have made up your mind, come talk to me.”

Lady Brienne nods in comprehension letting you now head towards Jon next before going towards Eraxis.

And from what you can see, he seems to be helping some of men with the trench, so he doesn’t see you coming. It leaves you with the chance to surprise him, but the men that were around him, those not used to your presence, those who hate the color of your hair stop what they’re doing to stare at you, giving away your presence and making Jon look back and notice you.

“Princess,” he greets and drops what he’s doing to meet you halfway.

You offer him a small smile and mutter, “Lord Snow.”

He comes to a stop a few inches away and smiles as his eyes soften—“you’ll freeze,” he inputs.

You roll your eyes. “I will be fine,” you scoff and tilt your head to smile softer at him. “I came to offer my help but it seems I repel everyone away.”

Jon glances around and sees everyone obviously trying to avert their gaze, or actually staring daggers in you.

“Just give them time,” Jon assures you. “Once they see who you really are they’ll warm up to you.”

You roll your head up and glance down to check what he was doing, noticing an abandoned piece of log on the ground.

“You know, maybe I should let you get back to work.” You smirk as you interject smugly. “I can watch fine from here. Just to make sure that you don’t get hurt.”

Jon’s lips turn to a smirk and he tries to reach for your arms, but when he remembers that there are eyes everywhere he just rests his arms back at his side before responding back. “I don’t know how that seems fair.”

You bat your eyelashes and get ready to talk back, but then his smile fades as his eyes drift to the side. You follow his line of gaze and notice Daenerys walking your way.

She sees that you both notice her now and offers you both a small smile.

“Dany,” you greet.

“Where have you been?” She directs at you as she reaches your side.

You continue to walk towards your dragons, and they both follow you now. “I was just walking around the grounds before I came to Jon. I ran into Sansa and I talked to her before that,” you share and glance at Jon to share a discreet smile. “It seems we got along quite well.”

Jon mirrors your discreet smile as he feels joy that his sister and you, his…lover? Paramour? Whatever, were getting along.

Yet, nevertheless that joy dies as soon as Daenerys adds her own comment on that same matter. “Your sister doesn’t like me.”

Jon brings you both to a stop to face her and address her now. “She doesn’t know you. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t like me either when we were growing up.”

You try to smile as you feel intrigued, you want to learn more, but Daenerys interjects.

“She doesn’t need to be my friend…but I am her Queen.”

That’s true…but she doesn’t need to say it in such a threatening tone.

Jon notices her tone too, but of course he doesn’t say anything about it.

“If she can’t respect me,” Daenerys adds with a narrowed glare. Yet she doesn’t get to finish since the sound of men speaking Dothraki catches her attention and takes her towards them as they approach on their horses. Both Jon and you follow in tow—mostly you do because they’re coming from where the dragons are.

And once you reach Daenerys, you see that she and Qhono are sharing a conversation that seems quite serious, but you can’t understand.

Once Qhono and the other Dothraki begin to leave, he glances at you, but you avert his gaze and step closer to Jon as you talk to Daenerys.

“What’s the matter?” You ask.

“The dragons are barely eating,” Daenerys comments before she walks off and leads the way towards them.

Whilst she leads the way though, you don’t feel like running up to catch up to her, so you stay back and walk along with Jon.

“Tell me, why is it Sansa and you didn’t get along?” You queire.

Jon sighs and looks at the ground as he answers. “Because I'm a bastard, and because her mother didn’t like me, so it just became that way I suppose.”

You hum and let your arm brush against it. “And now? From the looks of it, it seems she likes you.”

Jon lifts his gaze and shoots you a smirk. “There’s a difference between you thinking it and facts…” he trails off before he can add the pet name you had said to him as he remembers about Daenerys.

“Oh,” you scoff and roll your eyes. “Haha. Actually,” you snap. “I am quite smart so it’s okay to quote me.” You shoot him a beaming smile that makes him smile.

And then since you can’t wait any longer you proceed to run up the hill as the dragons were just past it, regardless if you had dreaded it before. And as soon as you reach the top, beside Daenerys two dragons you see a saddle and two long horns sticking out of the snow, and just that since your dragon's body is hidden under the snow.

“Eraxis,” you call excitedly as you slowly make your way towards her. “<Where are you my love?>” You ask in high Valyrian.

The snow over her body begins to tumble down, and two dark gleaming eyes stand out against the snow as she pulls her eyes open while she stands up.

“You hide so well in the snow,” you tell her as you approach her.

It’s almost like she was made for it.

Regardless, the she-dragon then leans her large head towards you, letting you place your palms on her snout and slide them along her jaw to embrace her.

“What’s wrong with them?” You hear Jon ask Daenerys.

“They don’t like the North,” she answers bluntly, making you pull back from your dragon to snicker at Jon.

He actually proceeds to glance over at you to meet your gaze, he parts his lips to ask something, but then the sight of Rhaegal leaning towards him startles him.

“What about yours?” Jon interjects loudly over the noise of the dragons. “Does she like it here?”

You begin to walk to her side to grab the small spikes on her side, and climb up to your saddle—“I suppose she does, she hides well here.” You give Jon your answer once you’re sat on top.

Jon glances at you and then at Daenerys as Rhaegal stays by him.

“Go on,” Daenerys encourages him to climb on Rhaegal, much to your surprise because that’s not how it really works, dragons don’t just let anyone ride on them.

But then again she is their mother so maybe it is different for her dragons.

“I don’t know how to ride a dragon,” Jon snaps back with concern.

Daenerys glances over at you to share an amused and teasing look, but you keep your eyes on Jon as you grow concerned.

“Nobody does,” Daenerys says. “Until they ride a dragon.”

Jon meets your gaze so you can maybe counter, but she is right so you just offer him a partial assuring smile. Which doesn’t help ease his worry.

“What if he doesn’t want me to,” Jon asks and looks at Daenerys.

“Then I’ve enjoyed your company, Jon Snow,” Daenerys remarks.

Jon glances back at you and lets his eyes linger as he debates climbing on the green dragon. He then looks down and sighs before he finally breaks away from his spot and walks over to Rhaegal’s side.

As he begins to climb, you lift yourself off your seat and watch with concern. It’s not until he’s on top of the dragon and doesn’t get shaken off that you relax back down and finally begin to grin.

“What do I hold onto?” He yells out.

You lean over the saddle and grab onto your handles. “Whatever you can,” you tell him.

Jon looks down briefly to hold onto some of Rhaegal’s spikes over his neck.

You shoot him a soft enamored smile you can’t hide seconds before Rhaegal shoots up into the sky with Jon still on his back. And the sight of him riding on the dragon only makes your heart more happy, and it makes Eraxis run forward to then fly up after them.

Since Eraxis is bigger, and a couple years older, it only takes a couple flaps before she catches up to them as they fly over the castle.

When Jon notices you at his side you shoot him a smirk before you let go of your handles and sit up to throw your arms out. His face twists with deep worry, but you giggle before Eraxis flies faster, causing some snow on the roofs of the castle to be brushed off.

You then grab your handles again and look back to try and look at Jon again, but in that moment see Daenerys and Drogon fly down and pass you. You laugh but Eraxis then takes that as a challenge and begins to fly up. As she flies over them and casts a shadow above them, Drogon shoots up too.

“<Come on girl, let’s show them how it’s done,>” you encourage her in High Valyrian.

Eraxis listens right away and flaps her wings twice, managing to get ahead of Drogon. He tries to quickly surpass her, but she then tucks her wings back and dives down towards the white woods. Just before she can hit anything she straightens herself forward and continues ahead towards what seems to look like some canyon.

At that moment as you approach the canyon, Drogon and Daenerys manage to begin flying at your side. When you look over at her you shoot her a smile before you both look back and see Rhaegal and Jon way back.

You chuckle at him even if he can’t hear.

Furthermore, just as you reach the canyon, you look back ahead and begin to grin with excitement. Eraxis tucks her wings back again and dives down at the same time Drogon does. And since you know Jon and Rhaegal are approaching, just before Eraxis can fly straight ahead again, you begin to snicker and yell out, “Dracarys!”

Eraxis draws in a deep breath, making you rise up as her back rises before she opens her mouth and blows out a cloud of fire, letting her chest fall back down.

As she passes the fire and makes sure you don’t get caught up in it, you look back and see Rhaegal fly further down to avoid getting Jon burnt before he swings back up.

You laugh softly at Jon’s contorting faces, and just as you come approaching the end of the canyon you look ahead, catching Drogon and Daenerys fly out of it first as they get ahead. You try to surpass them, but just as you both fly up and ahead, Jon and Rhaegal turn and fly down, stealing your attention and making you follow him instead towards the ground.

When he gets down from Rhaegal he then walks over to Eraxis’s side and offers you his hand as you begin to climb down. You gladly take it when you can and let him help you reach the snow covered ground.

“Thank you,” you tell him and offer him a sweet smile.

You want to let your hand linger in his, but Drogon then lands so you slowly pull your hand away and let Jon lead you forward. Once Daenerys climbs down from her dragon and catches up Jon begins to lead the both of you ahead.

“You’ve completely ruined horses for me,” Jon says.

Daenerys and you laugh, but your laugh quickly dies down as you see the wide waterfalls ahead of you. They’re beautiful, utterly beautiful as the rocks and the land is covered in snow, as the smaller body of water falling on top only feeds the larger body of water at the bottom; as the lake below glistens an icy blue.

“We could stay here a thousand years,” you mumble with disbelief, forgetting Daenerys was nearby. “No one would find us.”

Jon’s lips twitch to a smile. “We’d be pretty old,” he comments.

You chuckle softly and turn around to look at him, but that’s when you see Daenerys and stop yourself from reaching him. Instead you spin back around and head for the falls.

“Are there caves behind the water I wonder?” You ask out loud and carefully run ahead, even if you can already feel this new yet familiar exhaustion on your bones.

“Y/N,” you hear Jon call out. “Be careful not to fall in.”

You yell back, “of course!”

You then reach a thin running creak and crouch down to dip the tip of your fingers in the water, feeling the heat warm your cold fingers. Footsteps begin to approach you so you look over and only notice Jon approaching you whilst you see Daenerys walk back to her dragon.

“Where is she going?” You ask and stand up.

“Back to the castle,” Jon answers. “I said I would stay here with you.”

You begin to smirk and stay in place to watch her fly off first. Once her dragon's shadow doesn’t loom over you, you finally meet Jon’s gaze and offer him a deeper smirk before you run over to him and throw your arms around him.

“You have me here all alone, whatever did you do?” You tease him.

Jon grabs your waist and scoffs softly. “Lure you here, it was easy,” he plays along.

You giggle and then lean in and press a kiss on his lips, making sure to deepen it right away, but savor the taste of his sweet lips as if you’re afraid you wouldn’t kiss him again.

Jon groans and presses you tighter against him, making your body blaze with desire.

However, before you can lead him towards the hot water warmed up by the hot spring, you first speak a truth you’ve felt lately.

“Jon, I…” you pause and swallow thickly. “When I’m with you…I feel happy. The happiest I felt in years. I don’t feel alone anymore, and for so long that’s all I’ve felt. Alone. Until I met you.” Your smile begins to wobble and your voice softens. “I know we’ve only known one another for a short time, but…”

“It’s as if we’ve known each other for a lifetime,” he finishes your sentence.

You laugh softly and nod. “Yes,” you whisper. “Exactly. I'm sorry for being so hard before, I just get in my head too much.”

Jon smiles softly and shakes his head. “It’s alright,” he assures you as he lifts his hand to caress your cheek. “Don’t worry.”

You let out a soft sigh and let the silence linger as you hold each other for a moment before you rest your forehead on his and find solace in his arms.

“Promise me,” you whisper. “That you are mine. For however long we have.”

Jon cups your cheeks with both hands and nods softly. “I promise,” he whispers. “Can you promise me the same?” He asks.

You grin softly and nod. “I promise you, my love, I am yours. As you are mine.”

Jon pulls back to pull you in for a deep passionate kiss on the white snowy lands, by the beautiful running waterfall.

——

*LATER*

It can’t be.

It can’t be.

It can’t….

The door opens and chains clink together as the maester walks into his working quarters. You stop pacing under the moonlight reflecting in through the shutters and clasp your hands together.

“Princess,” he gasps softly and freezes just in front of his closed door.

You blink rapidly and let out a deep breath before you break your silence. “Maester I’m sorry, I just need your help.”

The maester swallows thickly and nods. “Of course. Anything.” He averts his gaze and points to the small bed in the middle of the quarters. “Sit please.”

You glance at the bed and then look at the door whilst the maester begins to walk towards the side of the bed. Once you don’t hear any footsteps echoing nearby you make your way to the bed and take a seat, but sit very stiffly.

“What’s been wrong Princess?” The maester asks.

You glance at the dancing flames burning the logs in the fireplace across the bed, and begin to fiddle with your rings as the concerning symptoms become prominent in your head. “Well…over the past week…I’ve felt oddly and concerningly fatigued…more than usual. I…have begun to feel cravings…and nauseous over the smell of certain foods...” you pause and draw in a deep breath. “And I have had hot flashes even if it’s very cold here. And lastly…I've noticed that my breasts have been swollen…” you trail off and blink to look up at the maester who seemed to be looking at you with no judgment.

Yet you know there is some, generous servant or not, you’re an unmarried woman and people on this side of Westeros don’t like that.

“When was the last time you bled, Princess?” The maester asks.

You hum and think.

After the last time you lay with Qhono on the boat ride to Dragonstone you did bleed, you remember that. And then later on, after you lay with Jon for the first time…well…

Even after your own protests to not be with him, once you finally did accept those feelings, once you lay together you couldn’t get enough, you were too distracted to notice that you hadn’t—haven’t bled since then. Since being with him.

“A month ago,” you reply quietly and drop your eyes back on your fingers.

The maester sighs and pulls his sleeves back before he interjects. “May I?” He asks without really referring to what he intends to do since you know.

You meet his gaze and nod. The maester then takes one careful step closer and gently begins to feel one of your breasts, making you twist the ring on your finger much faster.

“Okay,” he breathes out and pulls his hand away to step back. “Well…it seems that you are with child, Princess.”

You didn’t want to believe it before, you had come up with the conclusion that you weren’t. But, even so, you had felt it all before so it’s hard not to know right away. But now that he confirms that truth the reality completely sinks in.

And it’s not joy you feel right away. Regardless if you know the baby is Jon’s, regardless if you do love him, it’s just…if he doesn’t want it…

And then there is Daenerys to consider. The Queen.

The maester notices your uneasiness to the news and lets out a soft sigh before he whispers, “if you want to…end the pregnancy, I can offer you Moon tea. You’re still early on, it will work.”

It’s tempting. Very much.

But it must be his choice too. Only because you do love him, and there is a part of you that does want this baby with him. But if he doesn’t want it then you won’t either. You won’t fight it.

“I’ll…talk to my…I’ll talk to the father first,” you say and meet the maesters gaze.

The maester nods in comprehension. “Okay, but I do suggest that the choice be made soon. Once the baby begins to develop further the tea won’t take effect.”

You swallow thickly and let your rings go. “Yes, I understand,” you mumble and then very quickly, like in a snap of the fingers you grow serious and menacing. “I do hope you know to keep this a secret.”

The maester clasps his hands together and bows his head in understanding, letting you feel assured enough to slide off the bed and head out.

Now to talk to Jon before you can prolong the news.

However, when you walk to his chambers he isn’t there. You take a quick look out at the people working on the trench but he isn’t one among them. You then go to the main hall where the meetings with the other lords take place, but he isn’t there. Albeit, in search for him, you do find Bran outside on his chair under the dark night.

“Lord Stark,” you greet.

Said boy blinks and looks up at you. “Princess,” he greets back. “Are you in search of someone?”

How accurate.

You nod. “Yes, in fact. Your brother.”

“He went down to the crypts, you may go,” he shares.

“Thank you,” you mutter, and before you can go you add one more question. “Do you need help getting inside? It’s quite cold out here.”

Bran shakes his head and remains serious. “No, I’m quite fine. Thank you. I’m waiting for an old friend.”

You draw in a small breath, and nod in comprehension whilst you slowly sigh and break away to now slowly head to the crypts just ahead.

However, once you take note of the stone wolves that stand guard outside the entrance you hesitate. Maybe…it’s best if you wait for him here.

Maybe—

You let out a deep sigh and let your hand hover over your belly.

He needs to know.

You enter the crypt and let your hand slide down the stone wall as you carefully walk down. And once you make it past the hall you see a very softly lit hall lit by candle fire, on your left is a long pathway that is lined up by statues of different Lords that lived here not so long ago, those of who lived here hundreds years ago, and those who lived here thousands years ago. All of them had a stone wolf on their side and a sword in their hand.

“Y/N?” Your name is called.

You snap your eyes away from the statues and see Jon ahead in front of one.

You offer him a faint smile and walk towards him as he walks to you to meet you halfway.

“Hey,” you whisper sweetly. “I’m sorry for coming down here, I know that I shouldn’t, but Bran said I could come in.”

Jon offers you an assuring smile and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, actually now that you’re I want you to meet my father,” he says and grabs your hand to pull you towards the statue of the Lord he had been in front of before.

“I may not have his name, but he always made sure to be my father,” Jon says.

You grab onto his arm with your other hand and press your cheek agaisnt him as you study the statue of the great Lord Eddard Stark.

He has his hair carved to his shoulders, a full beard, small carved eyes, and a wide nose. In his hands is a great sword, and beside him is a wolf. Nothing can be said of his looks since he’s only a statue now but him as a person though. It was said that he was one of the most honorable men of all the Seven Kingdoms, even if he had a son with another woman. His death also ignited a war that led to a lot of tragedy to his house. But he was a great man. Or so it’s said.

You believe it to be true since Jon is good. If he wasn’t that would say a lot about his father.

“You kind of look like him,” you interject.

Jon drifts his eyes to the side and presses your comment. “Do I?”

You giggle softly. “Yes. I see the resemblance.”

Jon hums and looks back to his father, letting your smile fall as your news only becomes more persistent now. To the point you can’t hold it back anymore.

“I need to tell you something,” you whisper and pull away from him to face him with a small frown and a sad look.

Jon shifts around and faces you with a concerned look. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

You begin to fiddle with your rings and avert your gaze. “It’s about us. Me…I suppose…” your heart begins to race and your stomach begins to twist, making you begin to feel nauseous again. “I know—oh gods. This is hard.” You sigh and slowly let your eyes flicker up to meet his dark concerned filled gaze.

“Lately,” you continue in a different way. “I have been feeling sick. At first I thought nothing of it, but as time has been passing I have come to realize that what I feel is not because I’m sick...” You let out another sigh. “I talked to the maester, he confirmed it. Jon…I’m…with child.”

You quickly drop your gaze to avoid his reaction, you can’t handle it if he’s upset.

“I'm sorry,” you mutter and feel tears well in your eyes. “I know how you feel about having a bastard of your own, so I can drink—”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off.

You close your mouth and slowly lift your gaze, noticing a soft gaze brightened by the candles flame beside you. You see a soft smile too on his lips. Yet you don’t feel comforted quite yet.

“Say something,” you mumble.

Jon approaches you and right away cups your cheeks and lets his gaze linger on you before he wraps you in an embrace. “Don’t apologize,” he assures you. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“Isn’t it?” You question and pull back to meet his gaze. “We’re not married, if the baby is born it will be born a bastard. I am fine with it, but I know your feelings, and I can’t obligate you to be fine with it.”

Jon shakes his head and grabs your hand to press a kiss on your knuckles. “Then we get married,” he inputs right away. “Tomorrow.”

Pity marriage.

You scoff and furrow your eyebrows as you narrow your gaze on him. “No,” you counter and step back. “I don’t want a pity marriage. You can’t just marry me because of the baby. Honor or not, I don’t want that.”

Jon steps toward you and continues to try and assure you. “No. I want to marry you. I swear that to you. I mean I was planning to wait, hope that I could ask you after we fought the Night King, but…now with the baby, it feels like a sign that we shouldn’t wait. Marry me.”

You share a breathless but happy laugh as you feel an array of happy emotions overflow you. But that quickly gets dampered by the thought of Daenerys. What would she think? What would they all think?

“What about Daenerys?” You ask. “Your people? Your family? No one is going to approve.”

“I don’t care,” he snaps. “For once I don’t care. Besides, Sansa likes you, you said it. Arya might look tough, but I’m sure that it won’t be hard for you to get along. And Bran…well…he doesn’t say much anymore.” He cups your cheeks and wipes the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. “And as for my people,” he continues. “They will have to learn to accept it won't they?”

You offer him a wobbly smile and press your forehead against his. He smiles and reaches over to gently place his hand over your belly. Albeit it’s a bit too high.

“Here,” you giggle and grab his hand to slide it further down. “Right now the baby is probably as big as a little pebble.”

Jon laughs softly and looks down at your belly. “You, me, Rhaenar, and our baby, we’ll be a family. A true family,” he whispers softly.

He so easily accepts that new reality. Maybe because he stubbornly thinks that he’s not truly a part of the Stark family, even though he is. So now in his own mind he is going to have his own family. A true family.

It makes it kind of hard not to get wrapped up in his dream when he says it. When you think about that fact.

“We will,” you whisper and wrap your hands around his neck.

“What do you say?” He questions. “We can marry tomorrow night. Under the Heart tree. It can just be us, your son, and my siblings. I know my family will accept you, because I love you. And we don’t have to tell anyone about the baby until after.”

Your smile trembles but you don’t cry, you just grin happily as you feel your heart flutter.

“Let’s do it. Just us,” you whisper against his lips. “Let’s not tell Daenerys or anyone from my side yet. Not until after.”

Jon grins happily and nods in agreement.

You mirror his grin and now relish in that excitement. In your own excitement to grow your family after losing so much already.

“Tomorrow night then,” you mutter and pull back to grin brighter. “I have the perfect dress.”

Jon squints his gaze and shoots you a perplexed gaze. “Oh. So you came prepared to marry?” He retorts.

You scoff and nod. “Well, I had to be prepared, sometimes good alliances come because of a marriage proposal. I had to be prepared in case.”

Jon hums and his lips once again turn to a smile. He parts his lips to say something, but then the sound of someone tripping and groaning steals your attention.

You and Jon then pull away from each other, and you follow him out towards the hall. That’s when you see a bigger built man that Jon calls, “Sam.”

His friend that he’s talked about before. The one from the Night's Watch.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be down here,” Sam interjects.

Jon breaks away from your side to rush over to his friend and embrace him tightly.

When they pull away Jon looks back at you with a smile. “Y/N,” he says and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. “This is my best friend Sam.”

Said man’s eyes fall on you and a long frown forms on his face.

“Sam,” Jon continues and looks to his friend. “This is y/n.”

You offer Sam a happy smile. “It’s a pleasure,” you say. “Jon has spoken so much about you.”

“Princess,” he greets and bows his head. When he looks back at you all he musters is a partial and nervous smile.

“Were you hiding from me?” Jon asks Sam as he doesn’t notice his distress.

“Of course not,” Sam tells Jon and focuses on him.

“What are you doing in Winterfell?” Jon asks his friend. “Or did you read every book in the Citadel already?”

Sam doesn’t mirror Jons happiness, he remains serious. And finally Jon begins to notice.

“What’s wrong?” Jon asks him. “Gilly? Is she all right?”

“She’s good,” Sam mutters.

“Little Sam?”

Sam nods and takes one more nervous glance at you, giving you the clue to pull your hand away from Jon’s and excuse yourself so Sam can be at ease and share what he’s obviously holding back.

“I am going to check on my son,” you interject with a soft smile. “Good night.”

Sam bows his head and Jon steps toward you to rebuttal. “Are you sure? I can walk you to your quarters in a moment.”

You nod and assure him, “I’m sure. I’ll be fine walking on my own.” You shoot him a more happy smile before you turn around and begin to walk out.

“I’ll come by in a bit,” Jon says after you.

You wave back. “All right!”

Once you’re outside, under the stars all you can think about is tomorrow night….

Wait…

Is that what your dream means? The wolf and dragons song at night. The Blue Winter rose in front of the weirwood tree. Is the dream about him and you?

No. The dream is about Jon and you.

About your union. Tomorrow night.

.

.

.

.

A/N: I promise that the pregnancy is gonna be relevent to the plot!

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #gameofthronesfanfiction #Jon Snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #Jon snow x fem!reader #Sansa stark #daenerys targaryen #Sam #got #got fanfiction #got s8 #chapter 5 #angst #fluff #Targaryen incest

[damn-stark]

Chapter 7 I see dead people

Chapter 7 of Sandstorm

A/N- someone’s Targaryen realness comes out in this chapter…someone learns after a very distant great grandfather named Daemon ;)

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, death, blood, ALSO THERES CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW (not big, but there is)

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Every shuddered breath releases a cloud of air in the cold bitter sky that soon gets lost within the thrashing violent winds. As much as you’ve really wanted to admire the snow, getting hit by it, feeling as if it’s little needles against your flesh, makes snow irritating. And getting lost within the raging storm makes it a true nightmare

You had been helping burn the dead below, but the storm came and clouded the battlefield, it clouded your eyesight too, to the point you can’t see past Eraxis’s face. You try to fly up, above the storm, but as Eraxis tries, suddenly something crashes against her, making you get jerked back.

It’s a damn good thing you’re restrained on your damn saddle or else you would have fallen already.

Regardless, when you open your eyes and look over you see it, Viserion and that damn bastard, the Night King.

This is it, you think, this can end here. “Dracarys!” You shout.

Eraxis blows out fire, burning away the snow that fell, and clouds that had blocked your view. However, when you try to see if Viserion is burning, or if the Night King is dead, they’re not there anymore.

“Damn it!” You bellow. “Fuck!”

You nudge the handles up, and Eraxis quickly flies out of the storm, letting you see the beautiful swirling cloud above the ground, letting you see Daenerys and Drogon across from you.

She can’t hear you so you don’t even try to talk, instead you point down, hoping she’ll understand to get close to the trench so can light it when they give the sign.

Daenerys seems to understand and nods before both of your dragons fly down. Yet it’s that moment that you lose sight of each other again, you’re lost within the stupid storm again unable to see anything, not even if you’re close to the ground. You can’t even try to blow out fire because there might be living people there.

It makes you feel useless, utterly useless because you can’t even spot the Night King anymore.

“Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck!” Your shout gets lost in the wind.

Eraxis flies lower, hoping she’ll be closer to the ground. You can hear the groans from the dead, their screeching, you can hear the battle shouts, the cries. But you can’t see a thing.Not until suddenly fire blasts out a few feet below Eraxis, causing you to quickly snap your head down, and noticing the trench spark to life.

And even if it’s just for a bit, you feel relieved as the raging flames engulf every running wight. Your adrenaline spikes at that sight, it fills you with motivation and rage.

——

*RHAENAR*

“Do you want to see?” He asks the young girl with a scar on half of her face.

The girl lowers her gaze to the orange hatchling in awe and nods slowly.

Rhaenar grins and pulls out a piece of meat to place it before his hatchlings feet. “Helios,” he speaks, making the little dragon lift its head to meet the boy's gaze. “Dracarys.”

The hatchling lowers his gaze and steps back, it tilts its head and then blows out a small puff of fire from its mouth and cooks its piece of meat before it scarves it down.

The girl's eyes widen, but not with fear, she doesn’t seem fearful anymore, she seems impressed; she giggles and claps her hands, making the boy's cheeks burn and his smile go timid.

“May I try it?” She asks with a bit of excitement.

Rhaenar sighs. “Well, Helios will only listen to me, but you can throw his meat up in the air, he’ll fly up and burn it before he eats it.”

“Okay,” the girl doesn’t fret to agree.

Rhaenar grins brighter and pulls out another piece of meat to hand it to the girl. Helios turns and watches the piece of food in her hand, and waits.

“Alright,” Rhaenar says and glances at the girl. “Ready—”

Yet before he can tell the girl to do the trick, suddenly an arm wraps around her wrist and she gets pulled off the ground. Rhaenar looks up and sees an older lady staring down at him and avoiding looking at the dragon beside him.

“Come on,” the lady urges the girl, making her drop the piece of meat she carried in her hand. She then gets taken further away from him and deeper into the crowd of women hiding within the crypts.

And now that the girl is no longer visible he looks down at his dragon and frowns as he begins to wonder what he’s done wrong to be treated so poorly. People in Sunspear, people he’s met in other parts of the world aren’t like they are here, rude and distant. Sure people are scared of dragons, but why are they scared of him too?

None of the mothers here ever let any of their kids train with him, or let them talk to him, they take them away and he’s left talking with the adults he’s with. They’re nice but they aren’t his age….

Oh how much he’d give to go back home and talk to his aunts again, Obella, Dorea and Loreza, they’d be excited about Helios, and they’d for sure talk with him.

“May I try?” A sweet and feminine voice interjects.

Rhaenar looks up and sees Lady Sansa before him. She isn’t his age, but it’s better than sitting alone.

“Sure,” he agrees and watches her sit across from him and in front of Helios.

“I’ve heard his name is Helios?” Sansa queries.

Rhaenar nods in agreement. “Yes, it means sun,” he shares.

“Well,” Sansa says with a small smile. “Don’t tell your mother but I think my favorite dragon is yours. He’s very beautiful. He looks like a fire flame.”

Rhaenar begins to smile. “I won’t, but you should see my….” He trails off as he remembers that he’s forbidden from telling anyone about you being with a child. “My mothers,” he plays it off. “At night when the moon shines on Eraxis she’s the most beautiful, my uncle Doran said it’s a reflection of my mother,” he grins and lets Helios climb on his arm.

Sansa hums and doesn’t think twice about what he was actually going to say, even if she wanted to try Rhaenar then picks the piece of meat off the ground and hands it to her.

“Okay,” he sighs and glances at his hatchling. “Helios, <focus.>” He commands the dragon in High Valyrian.

The dragon turns its head to lock his eyes on the piece of meat in Sansa’s hand.

“And,” he points at Sansa, “now. Throw it.”

Sansa flings the piece of meat up in the air and Helios follows it with his eyes, whilst Rhaenar quickly throws out, “Dracarys.”

Without hesitation Helios flaps its little orange and yellow wings to fly off Rhaenar’s shoulder and burn the piece of meat before catching it and eating it.

Sansa smiles in disbelief and watches the hatchling land beside Rhaenar. “I’m sure Arya will be jealous when I tell her.”

Rhaenar meets Sansa’s gaze and holds back his smile. Sansa notices his stifled gesture and probes. “What?”

“Arya has already done it,” Rhaenar shares. “When she showed me some of her moves she learned from the faceless men. She even held Helios.” He begins to smirk. “She thought she could beat me at naming all the dragons, but I won because she forgot about Prince Lucerys Targaryen’s dragon, Arrax.”

“Of course she’s already grabbed the dragon,” Sansa comments.

Rhaenar looks down at the ground and begins to frown. “Do you think…” he pauses and lets out a deep breath. “Do you think my mother will survive? I know she’s strong, I know Eraxis will never let anything or anyone hurt her, but she can still get hurt….and if she gets hurt…if she dies….then…” he swallows thickly. “I’ll be alone.”

Sansa lets out a small breath and tilts her head down so she can meet his gaze. “Your mother will make it. She’ll live. I may not know her well, but one thing I do know about her is that she really loves you and that she’ll never think about leaving you alone in this world.”

Rhaenar sniffles and offers her a soft smile. “That’s good to hear.”

Sansa laughs softly and nods in agreement. “That is, isn't it? Besides from the sounds of it it seems that the trench is lit, there should be less of them out there, the battle should end soon.”

Rhaenar sighs in relief and watches Sansa stand to her feet. “Come on,” she invites him. “Let’s sit over here.”

Rhaenar quickly scoops up Helios and then runs over to sit beside Sansa against a wall.

Silence follows after that, dreadful silence as everyone listens to the battle raging above, as everyone waits for it to be over. Yet that silence doesn't last long.

“At least we’re already in a crypt,” Lord Varys interjects.

Rhaenar scoffs in distaste, but the guards beside him snicker.

“If we were up there,” Tyrion suddenly adds. “We might see something everyone else is missing. Something that makes a difference.”

Lord Varys scoffs, causing Tyrion to turn around quickly and snap back.

“What? Remember the Battle of Blackwater? I brought us through the Mud Gate.”

“And got your face cut in half,” Lord Varys reminds him, making Rhaenar glance over at Tyrion as he finally knows why he has that scar across his face.

“And it made a difference,” Tyrion counters. “If I was out there right now—”

“You’d die,” Sansa cuts him off. “There’s nothing you can do,” she continues as he looks over at him.

That’s quite brutal.

Rhaenar looks down to check for Lord Tyrion’s reaction, and sees him throw his wine aside to grab another as he strides towards Lady Sansa to argue back in his own defense. “You might be surprised at the lengths I’d go to avoid joining the Army of the Dead. I can think of no organization less suited to my talents.”

“Witty remarks won’t make a difference,” Sansa says. “That’s why we’re down here, none of us can do anything. It’s the truth. It’s the most heroic thing we can do now…look the truth in the face.”

Once again her words are quite brutal, but…Rhaenar likes it. How honest she can be but still mean it in a good way.

“Maybe we should’ve stayed married,” Tyrion comments quietly.

“You were the best of them.”

They were married? Rhaenar wonders in shock.

“What a terrifying thought,” Tyrion says, making Sansa smile. But only briefly.

“It wouldn't work between us,” Sansa adds in a more serious tone.

“Why not?” He probes.

“The Dragon Queen,” she shares, making Rhaenar begin to slowly furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “Your divided loyalties would become a problem.”

“Yes,” Rhaenar hears Missandei cut in. And when he looks at her he sees her look upset. “Without the Dragon Queen, there’d be no problem at all. We’d all be dead already.” She stands up and walks off, leaving an awkward silence. Leaving Rhaenar stuck. Does he go with Missandei, or stay with Sansa?

Missandei was right, his aunt Daenerys was only trying to help, can’t they see that?

On the other hand Sansa is now family too because of you and Jon getting married.

He’s stuck and he can’t be rude to either of them, he can’t bring himself to do it, so instead he just goes off and sits somewhere else and waits alone in silence again.

——

The snow keeps falling, the storm keeps raging, but the trench provides light. It lets you see a shadow of a dragon between the thick storm clouds.

Daenerys is across from you so it’s not her and Drogon, Jon and Rhaegal are no longer waiting by the Godswood…it must be them…or the Night King and Viserion. Whoever it is, they’ll fight soon, Jon is going to need help, he’s an inexperienced flier and can't fight the Night King alone.

So without a second to waste you nudge Eraxis up, and she quickly follows orders, choosing to fly away from the field and fly up further in the storm cloud. Once within the blizzard though, it’s hard to see again, you try to rely on shadows brightened by the moon's light, but that too is obscured.

Only flying will help.

Eraxis flies further up until she’s out of the storm and in the clearing, letting you look down. Yet just as you squint your eyes a figure emerges from inside, it’s…Jon.

You sigh in relief and without a command Eraxis flies to Rhaegal. Once you’re close the first thing you do is lift yourself off your seat to study Jon to make sure he isn’t injured.

As Jon feels your stare, he quickly meets your gaze before he looks at you up and down too. Once you’re both assured by your current injured status you both offer each other an assuring nod before you both look down. And actually as you do, you catch Drogon and Daenerys meeting up with the four of you.

Now to wait for the Night King in the silence and beauty of the night sky, above the destructive swirling storm cloud.

You wait and wait until suddenly a blast of blue flames bursts below Eraxis and Rhaegal seconds before Viserion rams between the two dragons and shoves them back, causing your body to jerk back as you’re caught off guard, and making Eraxis roar out in anger.

Rheagal and Jon get lost below in the cloud, and as Eraxis proceeds to fix herself, you have to quickly tighten your hold around your handles and lean forward. You then snap your eyes up and can’t help your gasp as you catch Viserion chasing after Drogon and Daenerys, and blasting out more of that blue majestic flame at their tail.

“<Come on,>” you mutter to Eraxis.

Without a fault Eraxis shoots up and quickly catches up to the dead dragon.

“Dracarys!” You bellow out with a smug smile as you’re at its tail.

Eraxis opens her mouth and fire erupts through the dark clouds. At the feeling of the heat at the tip of its tail, Viserion closes his mouth and tucks his wing back to then tilt to the side and fall down so as to not get caught in your dragon's wrath.

Drogon then stops flying and turns, letting you meet Daenerys gaze and share a worried glance she understands, and nods at so you’re not worried.

You offer her a gentle smile before you point your eyes below. She looks down too and when you meet each other's gaze again you both know to chase after Viserion and the Night King.

Rhaegal and Jon finally fly down to the clearing, letting you share the same understanding look with Jon that you just shared with Daenerys.

Jon understands it and without a second to waste, Rhaegal and Jon shoot down. Your lips pull to a smirk at the sight of your…husband flying down and quickly follow him too. Yet nevertheless Eraxis and you get lost again in the thickness of the blizzard. The sight of Jon and Rhaegal are no longer visible, and the sound of flapping wings is drowned out by the sound of the violent and icy wind.

Out of fear you’d hit Rhaegal and Jon you don’t let Eraxis throw out fire to light the way, so instead you navigate blindly basically and keep flying down. You close your eyes and try to focus more on the sounds to try and hear fighting, or a nearby dragon.

Albeit for the first few minutes all you hear is the howling of the wind hitting your ears.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter and fix your grip on your handles.

Eraxis keeps flying to try and spot them, but then suddenly screeches out. You snap your eyes open and squint your gaze to look around. And just as expected, you spot two dragons fighting below, yet you can’t make out who’s who from above.

Eraxis nevertheless tucks her wings back and flies down, you continue watching the battle and carefully study the dragons as they snap at each other to try and rip each other apart in any way they can. As you get closer you finally spot the difference, Viserion has holes in his wings and an almost icy complexion. So before he or the Night King can spot you, Eraxis leans down further to quicken her pace.

Once Eraxis is close, and just as Rhaegal rips out Viserions jaw, Eraxis slightly lifts her body up to slam her claws in Viserion and shove him down.

The Night King is caught off guard so he loses his grip, and you watch him hurdle down to the ground….

Fuck.

Fuck!

You pant and keep your eyes on him until he’s lost in the clouds. When you look up to check on Jon and Rhaegal, all you see is Drogon and Daenerys flying down after the Night King, there’s just no Jon—

Rhaegal must’ve gotten hurt.

Jon won’t be able to hold on if Rhaegal is losing control.

“I’m coming,” you murmur and nudge Eraxis down.

Yet just as you try to fly down, Viserions torn mouth suddenly clamps onto Eraxis neck, causing you to groan as your body is slammed to the side harshly.

Luckily the restraints hold you in place so you don’t fall. And what’s even luckier is that Eraxis is somewhat okay, she quickly retaliates by digging her claws in his belly and swinging down, making him screech out in pain.

Eraxis then pushes back and shoots fire at him, Viserion avoids the flame and dives down to try and attack Eraxis from below, but your dragon is quick and twists her body around, hitting the dead dragon in the face with her tail.

“<Come on girl,>” you encourage your dragon and watch as she turns to face Viserion again. This time as he tries to lunge at her you unsheath your double bladed spear from behind you to try and hurl it in Viserions mouth.

However, just as Eraxis and Viserion slam into one another and grip onto each other by the claws, they begin dancing through the sky violently. You try to continue aiming at his eye, even as they keep thrashing around, but then, from the corner of your eye you spot an opening and quickly pull your handles to the right instead.

Eraxis then sees what you do and bites down on Viserion’s wing and pulls back hard, managing to rip his wing partially off his body.

Viserion cries out, and you grin in disbelief. However, he still doesn’t let go of Eraxis, he holds onto her, digging his claws in her legs and pulling her down with him, making you thrash around. Eraxis tries to bite at him but he pulls back and shoots out his blue flames.

You quickly duck from the flames trajectory and barely miss getting hit. Eraxis knows that and gets more pissed off at the same time you do, so out of a fit of rage, as they’re both hurdling down at a rapid speed, she lunges at his neck.

Viserion finally lets go of her, but she bites down harder and keeps pulling him down. When you glance down you’re now a few feet away from crashing in the castle.

“Eraxis!” You yell out to try and get her to fly up.

Alas, just as she’s letting go, he bites on her shoulder. He wants to tear off her wing too.

You look down again and see you’re closer to the castle, it’s still quite a fall, but if you don’t help get rid of him he’ll only cause destruction. Besides, Eraxis is good, she’ll catch you. Right?

Fuck hopefully….

You let out a shaky breath and clench your hands around your spear before you pull at the strap on your left leg.

That one comes off quickly, but when you switch to the other side and pull, the buckle gets stuck.

“DAMN IT!” You yell and yank again, but it doesn’t budge. “FUCK!” Without another choice you use your spear to cut it off.

When you do the restraint is released but you also manage to cut your leg. “Agh! Fuck!” You cry out.

Yet there’s no time to wallow, even with the sharp pain you stand off your saddle. You don’t glance down anymore and swing your other leg off the saddle, you clench your jaw into a grimace and narrow your gaze on Viserion as he keeps digging his teeth in Eraxis’s shouder, as they both keep twirling down to the castle.

You let out a deep breath and grab onto one her spikes along her neck as you begin to crawl up her neck to reach her head. Your wounded leg keeps slipping off her side, but you hold on tighter and just quicken your pace until you reach the top of her head.

The breeze is quick, and the snow is sharp along your skin, barely letting you see or move. The fall from the looks of it isn’t far anymore, but you’d still break your bones or die—but he’d only damage the castle and kill more people, or even kill Eraxis. You have to do this….

You let out a deep shaky breath, bend your knees a bit before you let go of one of her spikes and break into a sprint down her head. When you reach her forehead you finally jump down.

As gravity rapidly pulls you down towards Viserion, you hastily grab your spear with both hands and throw your arms up. Just as you’re falling down to the dragon you let out a mighty cry before you swing down to stab his icy flesh.

Viserion screech’s out in protest and begins to squirm. You begin to slide the spear down his neck as you fall, until suddenly Viserion explodes into a thousands of ice shards, making you lose your grip and finally hurdle down towards the stone castle.

However, Eraxis spots you right away and flies to you, making you crash your side on her body and roll down. Luckily before you can slip off her body you manage to grip onto one of her spikes and stop. Yet since she’s falling down fast and can’t take flight right away, she crashes down in the castle hard, making you lose your grip.

This time a pile of dead bodies breaks your fall. But that’s where the problem starts, the wights spot you, hear you groan in pain, and come sprinting at you. Without a different choice you snap your eyes around and notice your spear a few feet away. You try to stand to go get it but your leg shoots out sharp throbbing pains, making you stumble back to your hands and knees, and leaving you to crawl rapidly towards your weapon as the dead continue to chase after you.

They get closer and closer as you approach your weapon. And just as you slap your hand on it and wrap your fingers around the spear, a hand wraps around your ankle and begins to pull you back. You yelp, and then nails dig in your flesh, making you cry out louder.

You swing back to try and hit them with your spear, but another wight throws itself on you, making you lose your spear and feel its stench on your neck and its bones on your back. It actually tries to stab you, but the armor you wear stops its attempts.

“Back off!” You bellow and thrash your body around. Yet one wight keeps pulling, and the one above you paralyzes you. As you peek up you see it lift its blade again, aiming at your neck.

Alas, just as it’s about to stab you, suddenly the wight that has you by your ankles lets go, and the one above you falls limb on you before it gets thrown off. You quickly flip around to see who your savior was, and for a second, as the flames behind their figure drowns them out, as they blind your eyesight, for a second you picture your father; his eyes, his tall figure. For a moment in time you imagine your father.

That is until they crouch down and offer you their hand, that’s when you finally recognize who stands above you, Jaime Lannister.

“Quickly,” he breaks you from your stupor. “Take my hand.”

You glance at his hand in shock, and having no other choice you take his hand and let him help you up. Yet you quickly regret putting weight on your leg because you instantly feel the pain from your wound intensify.

“Here,” he says and hands you your spear. “Let’s go.”

He lets go of you and begins to lead the way to the stairs so you can follow, however as you try to run the pain forbids you.

“I can’t run,” you mutter and shake your head. “My leg,” you groan.

Jaime stops and looks back at you before glancing at your leg and seeing the wound that’s visible through the gape in your pants.

“Eraxis, I need to get to her.” You mutter and quickly look around, seeing her struggling to get off her feet as the dead begin to mount her. “No,” you gasp and run to the hole that was on the wall so you can climb down the pile of dead wights to reach her below. But Jaime then runs backs to you and grabs you by your arm to begin pulling you away.

“No,” you argue. “I need to help her.”

“Only you’ll die before you can even reach her,” he argues and begins to pull you down the wooden staircase.

You snap your head back and see her barely managing to gain some momentum off the ground with each weak flap. Some dead cling onto her, desperate to try and get a good hit, but she shakes them off and flies higher up, letting you comfort yourself with the thought that now at least she won’t get injured further, or die, she can fly off and join you later. She’ll be okay.

Nevertheless, now that you’re on the ground you’re only welcomed with the sight of more dead everywhere, both wights and people. There’s even a corpse of a giant, and Lady Mormont dead beside it. As far as wights there’s a few left fighting the living, still…a few is one too many.

“Stay here,” Jaime commands you as puts you behind Lady Brienne and her squire.

You shake your head and snap back, “I can fight. I may not be on my dragon, but I can fight.” Without waiting for anyone to argue back you limp forward to stand in between him and Lady Brienne.

In that moment however, just as you fix your stance and get ready to welcome any wight that comes your way, suddenly dead bodies everywhere begin to rise up, all of them, every single one of them displaying those same glowing icy blue eyes, and making chills crawl all over your body.

“Fuck,” you mutter and grip onto your spear.

They don’t attack right away, they slowly turn as if they’re grasping their surroundings. Once they spot all the living then they run and lunge, making you act fast and counter each one of their moves, making you kill each and every one that comes your way.

This time there are no breaks, or waiting up in the sky. Down here every single second was a matter of life or death. It makes you thankful for all those hours that you spent training.

——

*RHAENAR*

“Shh. Shh.”

Besides the smell of dirt, now a different stench infiltrated the crypts, something putrid…

Death.

Now rather than whisperings filling the space, pained cries and screeches echoed around, both from the dead and those dying.

Two of Rhaenar’s personal guards had died, one trying to protect some woman, and the other trying to protect him. He wanted to fight, get rid of the wights that were around the room searching for bodies to kill, but the other two guards forced him to hide behind a statue. So as of now all he could do was stay still and quiet in hopes none of the dead would try and kill him too. He had to wait even if he heard people dying.

He closes his eyes and tries to cover his ears so it can go by faster by, so he couldn’t hear the fearful shrieks. But then in that moment a sharp cry rings out and he can’t stand just sitting, so he puts his dragon on his shoulder and springs into action, even if his guards keep telling him otherwise.

There are many bodies, many people hiding behind statues of their own, there are many dead roaming and it scares him; seeing their skulls, their moving skeletons, terrifies him to his very core, makes him want to freeze and search for you, but he ignores it all, all of it and follows the sound of the cries.

Once he reaches where it comes from he sees the woman from before, the one who had pulled the girl away as they tried to just be friends. The lady is being dragged by a wight, so without hesitation Rhaenar lifts his spear and stabs the wight through the skull, letting the woman live. Another wight proceeds to come running behind him, he can hear the footsteps against the stone ground, so without even saying a thing the dragon flaps its yellow and orange wings to hover by Rhaenar, whilst he spun around swiftly and swung on the wight. The dragon then blows out its little puff of fire and manages to burn the wight enough to kill it.

“Hide,” Rhaenar tells the lady as he faces the wights that came after him.

The lady drags herself up and nods rapidly before she runs off, leaving him and his guards that finally caught up with him to fight as hard as they could.

——

They won’t stop coming, there are more and more dead, they swarm everyone who is left fighting, they swarm you…try to anyway. They keep you busy, focused on only them, on your life and the life you carry within you.

Yet the moment you catch Jon across the yard all your attention is instantly just driven to his blood covered face, the fear and panic in his dark eyes. Ser Jaime had told you to stay behind him and Lady Brienne, but if Jon isn’t on Rheagal, if he’s here it means he’s going to try and go to Bran, and there’s so many dead between Jon and the Godswood. You just got married, you won’t lose him too.

So quickly you depart from the group you were fighting beside and slide under flinging arms of the dead to run after Jon.

Nevertheless, the dead keep getting in your way, those who aren’t busy trying to kill the other living try to come after you, and so as to not fall behind you just swerve past them, or kill one or two. The sight of Jon is lost in the raging crowd, but you…sort of know your way around, or at least you remember the map, so you try to enter a hall to cut the other yards.

Albeit, the moment you look around the corner you see it swarmed by wights so you step back out and cut through the yards anyway. That’s when suddenly one wight mostly made of bones comes from your side. It tries to tackle you down, but you shove your spear in its mouth and run forward to slam it into another one.

“Fucker,” you grimace and pull out your blade to continue running forward, continue to swerve and duck past and under swinging arms and blades. You begin to get close to the Godswood, but just as you walk past an archway to enter the last courtyard, you suddenly bump into a body.

Thinking it’s another wight you get ready to stab it without looking up at its decaying face, but then it grabs you by your arms and utters your name, so you look up and see Jon.

“Jon,” you sigh in relief.

He studies you quickly making sure you aren’t wounded, and you do the same.

The good thing is that all either of you see is dirt and dark blood from the dead.

“Come on. Bran,” he breathes out and grabs your hand to begin pulling you towards the Godswood, making you fight through your pain.

And while he leads ahead you want to keep holding onto him, you want to feel secured under his hold, but you have to quickly pull your hand away as you see an entire crowd of dead begin to fall down a stone wall. Jon and you try to avoid fighting them, but then another crowd comes running out of the shadows of a nearby archway around the yard. They all see Jon and you and don’t fret to charge directly, making Jon grab you by your hand again to turn you around and go a different way. However more dead now come out the way you had just come from.

Was this it? Get ripped apart by all these dead corpses? Only paces away from the enemy that can end this battle with one perfect hit?

At least you’re with Jon though, hand in hand, side by side. Many people don’t get to say they died beside the person they loved, you would. At least that’s an upside to this hell.

Of course you didn’t want to die, not yet, not before you can know your son is safe, not before maybe the baby can be born and have a chance to live. Maybe not before you’ve won the other war. But no matter how hard you try to fight off all the wights, there are too many of them and they surround you quickly leaving no chance to escape.

“Jon!” You yell over all the noise.

Said man looks over at you and waits.

“I love you,” you mutter through tears.

Jon’s eyes water and he grabs your hand again to press a kiss on your knuckles even as the dead keep trying to reach you up the hill of corpses you were now on.

“I love you,” he mutters back. “Thank you for the silence in the loud noise that has been my life.”

You smile through the tears and even if these might be your last moments, you glance at the approaching crowd of wights. “We fight?” You ask in a quivering voice and meet Jon’s gaze again since he had never stopped looking at you; if he was going to die, he would die looking at you, the woman he loved, that’d be the last thing he’d see. Yet when you say those words, he can’t help but be proud and feel encouraged to at least go out fighting, so without he nods in agreement and backs up your question.

“We fight.”

You let go once more, you face the relentless crowd and raise your spear again, whilst Jon stabs his sword into a wights skull. You continue fighting to try and still get to the Godswood.

Yet just as you ram your blade in a wights face, suddenly fire blasts down on a patch of wights before it swirls around Jon and you, killing all of the wights that had been trying to get you both.

At the feeling and the sight of the raging flames Jon tries to shield you, but you quickly look up at where the flames come from and see there in the night sky Eraxis. You beam at her, and Jon looks up at her disbelief before he yells out at you, “Bran!”

You glance down at him and nod before you both run down the piles of bodies and over dry patches of land that aren’t in flames. Eraxis hides back in the clouds, but you know she doesn’t wander far. Because just as you reach the Godswood and see its infiltrated wights, flames blast down again, burning away every single corpse, even those out of ice and with long white hair. She burns away every single tree that surrounds the red leaf Weirwood tree, leaving only a path that leads directly to the Night King and Bran, and letting Jon and you walk past before she completely surrounds the weirwood tree and all of you with a ring of fire.

The Night King's eyes then immediately set on Jon, and Jon glares at the monster as he pants.

Since there’s no one left to protect it, since there’s only fire around it, the Night King unsheathes its ice sword from behind him and faces Jon and you completely to stand its ground alone. Jon on the other hand secures his other hand around his sword handle before he begins to stride towards the Night King.

You begin to stride to it too, but then just behind the tree comes out a smaller corpse, or so it seems so, its face is covered by a hood, and its body is hidden behind a baggy cloak. It escaped Eraxis' wrath somehow.

It’s going to try and kill Bran.

So as Jon clashes his blade against the Night Kings you change your course and charge at the wight.

It spots you right away it though, but rather than running at you, it quickly raises its hand the closer you get and yanks it’s hood off, showing off a face of a wight, but a head full of brown hair pulled back to a small half ponytail that makes you falter and blink to watch in disbelief as you slow down.

Its eyes aren’t glowing blue or caved in, besides wights don’t pull off their hoods…this isn’t a corpse….and going by the hairstyle and hair color, and by the fact that they had hid so well, this can only be one person, Arya Stark.

Fucking impressive….

Regardless, you can’t precisely stop and come up with a plan together now that you see her too, so instead you look up at Eraxis as she watches whilst she flies around, and assure her that it’s okay with your look alone so she won’t burn Arya disguised as a wight. You then proceed to get closer to Arya before you both begin to slowly and quietly approach the Night King as Jon keeps fighting against it, and keeps its back facing Arya and you.

You get a few feet closer and then stop to meet Arya’s gaze while metal and ice keep clashing, she points to your spear with her eyes and then points at the Night King’s back before she drifts under the shadows that aren’t touched by fire light.

Jon and the Night King keep dancing around in the ring of fire as they clash their swords together, and it’s back keeps facing you. So as to not let this moment go to waste you lift your arm and then hurl your spear at its back.

Albeit just before it can hit its back, the Night King snaps its head back and catches sight of your spear before he maneuvers to the side, letting the spear now head to Jon.

“Jon!” You cry out.

Said man catches sight and barely manages to duck to avoid being hit.

The Night King then tries to lunge at you since he sees you’re defenseless, but then out of the shadows, from behind him Arya runs out and pushes herself off her feet to swing down. However, it then quickly snaps around stiffly and catches her by her throat.

Jon gets angrier at the sight and charges at it, whilst you begin to charge at it too, seeing Arya fling her blade over at you as it keeps her off her feet and gripped by her throat.

You catch the blade, and it snaps its icy blue eyes to you, letting Arya pull out her Valyrian blade she had hidden. It then snaps its eyes behind him as Jon raises his sword over its head, and lets go of Arya in hopes to swing his blade to slice all three of you.

But just before it can even move, Arya stabs her Valyrian blade in his chest, you stab your dragonglass dagger in its side, and Jon swings his blade down on his neck. All of you hit it simultaneously and the Night King erupts in thousands shards of ice, ending the battle once and for all….

Now there’s no sound of groans, grunts, screeches or running footsteps. There’s no more dead trying to run at you, there’s only dead corpses around the trees. There’s only silence and sorrowful peace.

It’s over. Now and always. The long night comes to an end, and the sun begins to break through the horizon, bringing relief and hope in you and everyone who lives.

Once the disbelief is somewhat surpassed, you and Jon look at one another after he makes sure his brother is okay, and instantly drop your weapons to close the gap with an embrace.

“Are you okay?” He asks between heavy pants.

You grip onto him and answer. “My leg,” you mention. “I hurt it, but it’s nothing too significant. You?”

Jon nods and then pulls back to instead cups your grime covered face and looks at you with concern. “The baby?” He asks, not caring if his siblings heard now.

You swallow thickly and shrug. “I don’t know,” you whisper, “I think the baby is fine.”

Jon swallows thickly and sees your worry so he tries to assure you now instead. “We’ll talk with the maester.”

You nod and then let your eyes linger on for a second to admire that he’s alive, that he isn’t another cold corpse. You relish in his touch before you press your forehead against him.

Jon presses a kiss on your lips as he caresses your cheek, and leans into your touch as you press your hands against his cheek.

“Rhaenar,” you whisper in quivering tone and pull away. “I'm going to check on Rhaenar.”

Jon nods. “Let me just grab Bran,” he says, “and I’ll catch up to check on Sansa as well.”

You nod in agreement and before you leave you meet Arya’s gaze and share a small passing smile before you run off, even through the pounding pain. You maneuver past dead bodies of all those you lost in battle, past debris, and past living people all grasping that it’s over.

Once you’re close to the crypts you finally slow down as you notice people coming out, Tyrion, Lord Varys, Missandei, yet Rhaenar is not behind them.

Your heart begins to pound in your ears, a force begins to clench around it, and the world begins to dim even if the sun rises. Sansa then comes out too, and thankfully, behind her is your son, covered in blood and grime, but he’s alive….he’s alive.

Relief washes over you instantly, and even if tears rush out of your eyes you’re filled with glee. “Rhaenar!” You call out.

Said boy instantly finds your voice and right away his shoulders fall, and his lips pull to a wobbly smile as he’s filled with relief.

“Mama!” He calls out before he quickly maneuvers past people to meet you halfway in an embrace. “Mama,” he cries once you have your arms around him, making his dragon hover beside him.

“My sweet boy,” you whisper and squeeze him tighter. “My little Sunspot.” You pull back only to grab his face and begin pressing kisses on his dirty forehead.

He scoffs softly, but he doesn’t shy away even if people around you see.

Once you completely step back you he quickly interjects with concern. “Are you okay?”

You nod and offer him a sweet smile. “I’m just hurt but I’ll live. You? You seem okay, are you?”

The boy begins to smile again and nods eagerly. “I’m fine. Mama you should’ve seen me, wights began to come out of graves and I fought some of them. Whom, swoosh!” He swings his arm, pretending to be holding his weapon. “One even tried to grab at my leg but I quickly flipped in the air and stabbed my spear in its SKULL! Just like how my uncle Oberyn taught me.”

You grin brightly and whisper, “I wish I could’ve seen, but I am proud.”

Rhaenar grins shyly, and in that moment there’s a soft dragon call from the sky. You look up and see Eraxis trying her best to fly past the castle walls.

“She’s hurt,” Rhaenar points out.

You grab him by his hand and begin to pull him after your dragon. “Yes,” you say, “Viserion hurt her, but she’ll recover with time.”

“Good,” he whispers.

“Now come,” you urge him, “she must’ve found Daenerys and Drogon.” You quicken your pace as best as you can, and once you make it out of the broken gate you gasp as you see the body littered battlefield. There’s thousands of people, all of them brave warriors.

The sight of a dark shadow then makes you lift your gaze, and you see Drogon fly by to fly away with Eraxis. Yet in the middle of the field of bodies is Daenerys in her dirty white coat, heading to the castle with a grief stricken look.

She sees Rhaenar and you and instantly her chest falls, her eyes glisten brighter, and the corner of her lips tug to a relieved smile.

“Aunt Dany!” Rhaenar yells out and pulls away from you to run over to her.

Quickly once he reaches her, he envelopes her in an embrace. She gets surprised for a moment, but once she's assured by his embrace she returns his hug and presses her cheek against the top of his head.

When you finally reach them they both let go of each other, letting you and Daenerys embrace each other now.

“It’s over,” you whisper to her. “It’s finally over.”

Daenerys holds onto you tighter and closes her eyes out of relief.

Feeling left out and happy that his family is alive, Rhaenar joins in the embrace and pulls you in a group hug.

“The war isn’t over,” Daenerys interjects quietly. “Not the real war.”

.

.

.

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Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got #got s8 #got fanfic #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #got the long night #Jon snow #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow fic #jon snow x reader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x you #daenerys targaryen #Arya stark #bran stark #the night king #s8 #chapter 7 #angst #Targaryen incest #fluff #violence

[damn-stark]

Chapter 10 Dance of the Dragons

Chapter 10 of Sandstorm

A/N- 😏

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, incest, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, violence, death and destruction, ALSO THERES CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW (not big, but there is)

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x05

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

Home, King’s Landing is home. Today is the day that you finally get it back. Today is the day you finally take back what was stolen. Today.

Due to certain blessings, Daenerys left you out of joining her in burning what remains of the Iron Fleet, it’s too risky she said—can’t be that risky though, considering you’ll be on your dragon.

But Jon backed that up too so instead you’re left in charge of overseeing your plan to have Jaime betray his lover/sister, with the Sandsnakes.

It’s an overly easy task, but it gives you time to reunite with your sisters you haven’t seen in too long. Yet in this wait, in the eerie silence that was built as the city below waited for your team to attack, your mind ran with worry over Jon’s life, over hope Jaime wouldn’t betray you, and over her, Daenerys.

You’ve tried not to think of what Jon said, you keep trying to believe in her, but as you’re up in the sky waiting for her and Rhaegal to attack the remaining fleet below, that’s all that fills your mind.

She can’t be that person they paint her out to be. She can’t let them win. Most importantly what happens if that fear flourishes?

No. You can’t let them get to you.

Just wait in silence, listen past the howling wind, and look down past the clouds. You see the shadow of her dragon, the shadow of Rhaegal nearby waiting to burn down the crossbows on the walls. You wait.

Wait.

Wait, and…

That eerie silence is broken by the sound of ships exploding, by shrieks as Rhaegal catches them off guard and burns down the crossbows. Rocks and debris slamming everywhere fill the air with dust, and that’s your cue to fly in undetected.

While the ships burned, and part of the walls fell, you nudge your handles forward and part your lips to speak to Eraxis. “<Fly, girl>”

Without a second of hesitation, without needing to be told again, Eraxis tilts down, flaps her wings once to gain momentum, and then tucks them back to shoot down like a flying arrow.

The speed she travels in when she dives as such once would’ve made your stomach upset, but now that feeling as if your heart is coming out of your throat, and your stomach is floating up your body is actually thrilling and makes you grin.

“WHOO!” You let the rushing wind blasting past you carry out your excited cry. Which may seem inappropriate, but you’ve missed flying, you can’t help it. And well that joy only lasts until Eraxis slows down and now skids above the waters near the cove below the Redkeep, so as to not be seen by anyone who remains inside.

The sound of the top of the walls being blow up still rings so they’ll be distracted with that, letting Eraxis and you maneuver by the cove until you turn in a corner that has a cave, and a boat docked on the sand; it carries no banner, no other flag, and as Eraxis gets closer there's an orange and red sheets over it—this is it, it’s them!

Eraxis gets as close as she can get to the beach, letting you unsaddle rapidly.

“Y/N!” You hear a familiar female voice call.

You snap your head to the other side as you keep unstrapping yourself and immediately grin as you notice the pretty face of Elia as she runs out from the cave. And running after her is Sarella, scolding her it seems like. So once you manage to untie yourself you hastily climb off your dragon, and only take a moment longer to talk to her.

“<Go, distract them.>” You tell her so they wouldn't suspect your disappearance from battle. “<Come back.>” You pat her once more and then step back to let her fly away, letting you then turn and face Elia; who’s now grown taller, her face has matured a bit more, and her dark black braid is only longer now.

“Elia,” you call out happily and run through the water, not caring if water splashed all over you.

She meets you halfway, just at shore and you both immediately wrap in an embrace.

“Sister,” she mutters and slaps her hands on your back with more strength than before.

You grin and glance up, seeing Sarella remain hidden under the shadows of the caves. And behind her, hidden in the shadows as well is someone else, someone tall and thin…can it be, Ellaria?

“Look how you’ve grown,” Elia remarks to you as she pulls back to look down at your swollen belly.

You smile at her and cup her face. “Look at you,” you redirect. “You’re a woman now. Last I saw you, you were only a little girl.”

“Happens,” she quips and steps aside to let you walk to the cave. “Tell me, are we fighting soon?”

You sigh and meet Sarella’s dark eyes with an eager grin. “With luck all you’ll see of battle is what happened just now.”

Elia groans and lets your arm go so you can run to Sarella.

In the middle of a battle it seems wrong to be so happy, but you cannot help it with your joy that grows over seeing your family.

“Oh how I’ve missed you,” you tell Sarella as you both wrap each other in an embrace. “I hope the waters weren’t too rough.”

Sarella gives you a gentle squeeze before pulling back and facing you, blocking the view of the woman behind her. “I’ve missed you too, sister. It’s been too long.” She shoots you a smile and looks you up and down to study your armor. “Nice. A little too shiny for your liking, no?”

You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. “Tell me about it. But it keeps me and my children safe. Besides, my husband is insistent.” You smirk.

She smiles and then glances behind you. “Where’s the young prince?” She asks.

You step back and answer her. “Dragonstone. I can’t risk his life in such a big battle. He’s upset he couldn’t come and see you both. He’s missed you.”

Sarella grins. “And we him, especially the youngest three.”

“Soon!” Elia cuts in from behind Sarella. “We’ll reunite at the Queen's coronation, or when the babes are born. Dorne will celebrate for an entire moon cycle!”

You glance past Sarella’s shoulder, and instead of looking to your sister, your eyes land on the woman she’s by, Ellaria, safe and very well; just as Cersei had promised.

“Ellaria,” you greet softly and walk past Sarella to reach her.

Said woman sits up from the rock she was resting on and walks to you. “Princess,” she greets in a raspy voice.

You offer her an apologetic look and take her hands in yours to assure her. “I’m glad you’re okay. Did the escape go with ease?”

Ellaria nods. “Yes…Elia and Sarella were swift and quick. No harm was done to us.”

You smile softly and nod. “Good….” You pause and let out a small breath as the grief of your sisters heightens and becomes hard to ignore. “I’m sorry for your loss, Ellaria. I’m sorry I failed you and her. Them.”

Ellaria's gaze hardens and she shakes her head stiffly. “I’ll know peace when I see that whore of a Queen burn alive.”

You smirk at her. “You will soon enough.”

Ellaria raises her chin and doesn’t fail from expressing her doubt. “The girls told me about the plan, do you really trust that Lannister man?”

You let her hands go and glance deeper in the cave, catching the entrance that Jaime needs to come out of. “Not fully no, but I have to have some faith in him in hopes that he will do what’s right for the people.” You meet Ellaria’s gaze. “He made promises that he cannot break again. I trust he’ll do what’s right even if it hurts. He knows what happens if he doesn’t.”

Ellaria hums and steps back to the rock she had been resting on. “I hope you’re right,” she mutters.

You sigh and nod. “I hope I am too.” Now slowly worry creeps to you, worry you didn’t want to feel but are sort of glad you do to be able to come up with what you need to tell them.

“Once,” you continue to say. “Ser Jaime comes out and you take him to the ship…” you pause and turn to watch the sky. “If you see things change….” You begin to fiddle with your rings and look down to watch the waves roll in. “Go pick up Rhaenar at Dragonstone, but change courses to White Harbor.”

“Why is that?” Elia questions.

You slowly turn around and face the girls. “There’s a worry….something might shift. You see it and do as I said. I’ll catch up while you’re all in the ocean when I can.”

Sarella notices the fear you couldn’t hide and steps forward to probe. Yet she can’t ask her question because hurried footsteps begin to echo from the staircase at the end of the cave. Is this him?

You meet each of your sisters gazes to share a pressing look that sends them to a fight ready stance, Ellaria gets up from her seat, and you lose the fear and concern to tighten your jaw and harden your gaze.

Eraxis isn’t here, but you now hope she comes soon.

Nevertheless, the footsteps get louder and the sound of heavy breathing soon travels out. The louder they get the more nervous you feel over this entire situation.

What if he turns on you at the last minute? It’d be stupid, really, you have Eraxis, you can hear the gate crumbling down from here, it’d be stupid, but well…people do stupid things for love.

Seconds pass until finally Jaime comes to view as he reaches the last few steps; he meets your gaze with a hardened gaze, but you can notice the flicker of fear over what he’s doing.

“Come,” he directs behind him as he steps down the last steps. When his feet touch the ground Cersei comes to view now, and she immediately stops in her steps as she spots you, your sisters, and Ellaria.

She doesn’t say anything, she tries to look nonchalant, but you see her fear. She looks to her brother expecting a fight, but he gets near her and takes her wrists.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters to her.

And as if on cue, or called by the drama, you begin to hear the flapping of wings before you feel Eraxis breathing behind you—you also notice the horror on Cersei's face now as she sees the dragon.

“No,” she argues and tries to yank her arms back. “No! What are you doing?! Jaime!” She yells and tries to fight back by hitting him on the chest, by pushing him away, so Elia strides over and uses the force Jaime can’t bring himself to use.

“I am so sorry, My Lady,” Elia mutters and yanks her down the steps. “But you will be coming with us. It seems your lover turned against you.” She snickers and throws her forward, letting Ellaria catch her before Cersei can fall.

“I should thank you,” Ellaria tells her as she grabs her jaw to squeeze it. “You let me live to see this.” She scoffs. “You aren't as smart as you thought you were, huh?” She looks her up and down before she lets her face go to instead grab her arm and pull her towards Sarella.

“You can’t do this,” Cersei snaps back at Jaime as Sarella slaps chains around her wrists. “You can’t do this to me! Let me go! Let me go, you fucking whore!”

You click your tongue and shake your head. “Quiet, you’ve lost now, Queen Cersei, we got the upper hand.” You begin to walk towards her, and she shoots you a burning glare.

“It’s over.” You finish saying.

Cersei yanks her arm away from Sarella and walks towards you, making Eraxis begin to growl. “I may have lost, but your battle is only just beginning,” she begins to smirk. “I know your Queen well…”she trails off and glances down at your belly. “Protect what’s yours before she takes them. It’s her you should really fear.”

You swallow thickly and simply look at her with unbothered gaze before stepping aside and letting her face Eraxis. Now her cockiness falls and horror returns. “No,” she mutters and walks back. “No, no, please.” She looks back and cries out. “Jaime, please, I don’t want to die. Please…please.” She walks to him, and you let her grab his collar and beg. “Please don’t hand me to these people. Please…I love you.”

At the sound of her words Jaime takes her hands and glances at them with a saddened gaze as he draws in a small breath.

“Only we matter, only us,” she keeps saying to him. “Please.”

Jaime lets out a deep breath and looks at Cersei with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “But they have to matter more.” He lets her hands go and takes her arm to begin walking her to the boat, whilst she still squirms and fights back.

Your sisters follow after him and you walk to Eraxis, but watch Jaime help her on the boat, while Ellaria stops by you.

“I’ve stopped letting vengeance consume me,” she says. “It took too much away from me. But I will follow you.”

You pull your eyes away from Jaime getting Cersei on the boat and meet Ellaria’s gaze.

“It’s you your uncles believed in, not her, it’s you that we will follow,” she assures you. “You’ve done good Little Sunspot, I’m sure your uncle Oberyn is smiling wherever he may be.”

You offer her a small smile and whisper back. “Thank you. If you wish to return to Sunspear, you may. Return to your daughters, they need their mother.”

She nods. “Yes. They do. I will go home. Just swear to me you won’t forget who you are.”

You nod to assure her. “I swear.”

She caresses your cheek once before turning to climb on the boat, while Jaime gets out and walks to you.

“You won’t be traveling with them?” You ask.

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t think I can. If..if it’s no trouble may you take me to my brother?”

You nod. “Of course. And thank you…I know it must be hard, but…” you trail off as then at that moment bells begin to ring, letting you know that they’ve surrendered. The city surrendered.

“Hear that?” Elia taunts Cersei. “That’s the sound of victory.”

You smile up at the sky in relief and can’t help but grin at Jaime. “It’s over. We’ve done it. Let’s go and meet the others.” You walk to Eraxis and begin to climb on the saddle as your sisters drift away.

“And!” Jaime exclaims from the ground. “Do I just climb on it?!”

“Her!” You correct him as you sit on the saddle. “And yes, climb on! She won’t hurt you…unless you have bad intentions. Do you?”

He shakes his head immediately. “I can feed her my weapons if she’d like!”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No need, just grab onto her, it won’t hurt her, and climb on. You can sit behind me.”

Jaime hesitates, but slowly grabs onto everything you had and struggles to climb on with one hand. But he does, and also eventually throws himself over the saddle.

“Hang on,” you let him know and turn the handles, making Eraxis begin to turn away from the cave, and causing the knight behind you to grip onto your arm.

You snicker and nudge your handles forward to make her begin to ascend to the sky. At the feeling of the dragon lifting off, and at the sight of the waters looking smaller, Ser Jaime gasps.

“How in the seven hells do you do this?!” He yells.

“It gets easier!” You assure him, and feel your amused grin fade as the sight of the city comes to view, it’s untouched, besides the gate and the top of the walls it was all unscathed. That knowledge brings you joy, satisfaction and most importantly relief.

Finally. Finally, after years you can finally return to the ancestral seat your family held for centuries. Dragons will once again rule the sky’s of Kings Landing. At long last you can finally return home—

Wait…wait.

As you fly to Daenerys, towards the gate where Jon will be close by, Daenerys and Drogon suddenly depart from where they were perched. And she’s flying away from the gate, away from where everyone is. She’s flying deeper into the city….

And it’s now that you hear it. In between the silence the bells leave every few seconds you hear the cries for help, the cries for their Queen Cersei. They know that the city has surrendered but the people keep crying out for Cersei. And Daenerys keeps flying away.

She’s just going to the Red Keep….right?

Eraxis turns without command, letting you watch Daenerys, making you catch as Drogon suddenly shoots fire down on the people, destroying everything in his path.

“No,” you whisper. “No, no.”

Jaime lets out a shocked gasp, reminding you of his presence. Tears then begin to roll down your eyes as slowly realization creeps.

“HELP US!!!”

“HAVE MERCY!”

“The city has surrendered—”

“I’m taking you to your brother,” you cut off Jaime and make Eraxis turn away to head towards the gate.

The sound of fire slamming into houses, the sound of screaming now rings out, tuning out the bells, and your realization only heightens.

“What will you do?” Jaime asks you.

“So swear to me that you won’t fight her. I can���t lose you.”

Jon’s words echo in your head, they warn you, and only add fire to that heart shattering realization that….Sansa, Arya, and Lord Varys was right. They all were. And you…you blinded yourself by hope. By the promise of family. You pushed away all your instincts, all your own warnings out of hope she’d do what’s right. And now she’s burning it all away, she’s burning all the people, she’s…killing them.

“Save as many people as you can, Ser,” you ignore his question. “Have the armies retreat and only help who they can. Don’t fight.”

Eraxis gets close to the ground and hovers above to let him down.

“I will,” he says while he climbs off the saddle to begin to climb down. But he stops just before he can get further down to interject once more. “You’re smarter than your father, Princess. I hope you can make the right choice, not for you, or her, but for the lives you want to protect. They may be shit, but they don’t deserve this.”

He’s using your words against you. Smart.

“Don't die,” you redirect.

He shoots you a smirk and begins to climb down, once you hear his feet hit the ground Eraxis ascends again. The moment she’s above the city, all the serenity is replaced by terror, by blazing flames, and black smoke. The air that was once filled with the sounds of bells is now filled with shrieks, pained and dying cries, all over a whim.

No matter how much pain you’re in over what life has thrown at you, you know that they don’t deserve this. Not after they surrendered.

But yet…she’s your aunt, she’s the last bit of family you have left. You love her. Her—

But all those innocents dying, all the burning, all that devastation, it tortures you.

Why? Why does it have to be her?

Why does it have to be you?

FUCK!!!!

Forgive me Jon for breaking the promise.

Without needing to say anything Eraxis flies faster towards Drogon, past the battle that is now happening below. You tighten your grip around your handles and hold back tears. You narrow your gaze on Daenerys and catch Rhaegal join Eraxis' side without Jon on him.

The green dragon follows you, but will he join you in fighting against his mother and her scorn? Or will he fight you?

Doesn’t matter, you have to stand as long as you can and make her stop.

So once you’re finally close, just as you approach her and she thinks you’ll join her by raining down fire, instead you lean forward, and Eraxis quickly slams her head into Drogon, causing him to stop blowing out fire and get thrown to the side, while Daenerys quickly snaps her head over and meets your gaze with bewilderment.

You try not to look hurt, but that pain is shown by the tears that gleam over your eyes and the shaky frown on your face. You don’t say anything either, but she doesn’t need to hear anything, she knows what you want her to do. She holds your gaze actually as if debating; she doesn’t scowl, or move to attack with fire, she holds your gaze with a hint of curiosity.

Yet it’s in that stillness that suddenly Drogon blows out fire against Eraxis’s neck, making her screech out in pain and thrash away from the flames. And due to the sudden attack you don’t get to catch Daenerys reaction; you don’t know if she’s surprised or smug about it.

“<Eraxis!” You yell out as she flies away from Drogon. “Only defend!>” You can’t control Rhaegal, and he hasn’t attacked you nor counter attacked, so you hope he knows that Jon wouldn’t go against you.

“<Only defend!>” You repeat in Valyrian.

You look back and see Drogon open his mouth to throw fire again, so you make Eraxis swoop down and accidently skim over roofs. And now rather than turning to come attack Eraxis and you, Drogon and Daenerys continue to rain fire down on the city, forcing you to direct Eraxis to fly after her and chomp down on his tail when she gets close.

He screeches out, and due to the sudden cry, Rheagal cries too and begins to circle above in confusion on what to do.

It’s okay though, apparently now this fight is you against her: the woman you once wanted to make happy, the woman you once wanted to make laugh, the woman you once wanted join in victory of your family’s return to the throne. As much as it hurts, you have to fight her. And she doesn’t hold back either, Drogon turns around swiftly and snaps at Eraxis. She luckily parries out of the way and hits some tall building nearby, making it crumble.

Drogon continues and blows out fire and flies through it to catch her and you off guard, but Eraxis is lower so she flies up and rams into his throat.

Drogon gurgles, but then counters by gasheing his claws in her chest, causing her to cry out but not attack back. However, that leaves her vulnerable, letting him snap his jaw at you.

Luckily you catch his action in time and let go of your handles to jerk back, missing the clamp of his entire jaw. But, you do manage to get slashed from the bottom of your left eye down to your shoulder

You cry out sharply in pain and throw yourself forward to grab at your bleeding face. Fuck…fuck.

“FUCK!” You bellow. “Fuck,” you pant and snap your head up to glare up at Daenerys looking down at you. No retreat.

You grimace in reaction to what happened, to her inability to stop, but just as you want Eraxis to counter, Rhaegal comes flying by and slams into Drogon, letting his claws scrape off Eraxis’s chest.

You scoot forward and lift off your seat to watch, and catch Drogon slam back into houses. Yet he gains his momentum back quickly by shooting out fire at his brother.

Rhaegal albeit swoops down and misses getting hit, and rather than chasing after him, Drogon faces you and Eraxis, and flies towards you. But this time rather than turning, you fly head on, Eraxis opens her mouth to make him think that she’s going to shoot fire, making him move down. Instead she turns down too mirroring his action, and manages to shoot down and instead hook her claws around his jaw and his neck.

You can see Daenerys holding on for dear life, but you continue to have Eraxis push him down towards the ground so they can stop.

Yet, it’s while you do that, that Drogon swings his tail up and hits Eraxis in the eye, causing her to let go and letting him instead sink his teeth into her throat. Eraxis quickly retaliates by hooking her claws in his chest.

You can’t see Daenerys from here, but you hope she knows to give up this fight. You won’t stop until she gives up or….she’s dead.

But no, she doesn’t make her dragon back up, so you don’t back up either, they both hold onto each other and begin to spin around the sky, managing to crash into some buildings as they do. Rheagal still follows, he keeps on being conflicted by who to fight with, so he watches the dragons dance instead.

And they don’t stop until Eraxis slams Drogon into the wall, that’s when he finally lets her go and lets her fly away over the wall towards the water so you can get away from the city.

Of course Drogon followsand counter attacks by blasting out fire and by flying towards you faster. Just as he gets near her tail, you have her swing around and fly directly towards them.

Yet just as they're going to crash, Eraxis dips down and heads towards the water. Right before she can crash she swoops up and skims her body over the water. You quickly snap your head up and think you might have a minute to catch your breath, but you catch Drogon flying towards you, so after a frustrated groan, you direct Eraxis to fly up. She proceeds to slam into him, throwing him up.

You look down thinking Daenerys will fall, but somehow she keeps holding on. She really must have some grips of steel.

She’s also fucking preinsistent.

Whatever the case, you make Eraxis fly up a bit before drifting to the side to try and fly towards the army’s, so she’d leave you alone.

However, as Eraxis is drifting in the sky, Drogon catches up and just as he’s flying past you he scrapes his claws down, cutting the restraints of your saddle…You aren’t hooked on so as the saddle falls, you fall down too, towards the water. You can only watch Drogon grow smaller, you spot Daenerys silver-white hair above, you catch her turn her head but can’t read her reaction again, you just see her grow smaller until all you see is water when you crash in it.

All you feel is disbelief and fear for your life. For your children’s life. You see darkness, below the surface is covered in it. The only light you see is the flash of memories as your life flashes; every moment, your childhood, your father singing to you, Rhaenys and her cat, your mother, Dorne, adventures with your cousins, Rhaenar being born, meeting her for the first time, meeting Jon, being with him, and this moment.

How did you end up here? Drowning in the waters that surround what was once your home. How?

It’s hard to breathe now, it’s hard to keep your eyes open any longer so whatever amount of light that does break through the waters surface fades.

As your eyes begin to flutter shut, there is a flash of white. Death maybe?

No. Something sweeter because you feel air in your lungs again when you feel water escape out of your mouth. You feel your eyes burn for a moment, and see glimpses of the smoke littered sky, and of….Eraxis?

Yes, it's her. And a darker dragon above. Drogon! You try to react, but you can hardly move.

Alas, when your consciousness does return you realize it’s only Rhaegal. Which is good, you feel weak and just in horrible sharp burning pain. It’s aching. It makes Eraxis flying feel like an eternity, when it’s not, it’s short since she lands where the armies, and you had camped last night. She drops you off just on the shore, in the water, causing your wounds to sting as the salt water hits them.

You groan out, but get on your hands and knees even if it hurts to add pressure to your left arm.

“Someone!” You hear the sound of a familiar voice. “Get a maester, get a healer!”

You hear the sound of approaching footsteps, you feel Eraxis try to help you by nudging you to your feet with her snout. “<Thank you, girl.>” You mumble and straighten up.

Your feet wobble, but you remain up and see Jon running to you, you see Ser Jaime and others running to you, you see the soot covered army looking at you barely standing on the shore.

“It’s the Princess!” You hear.

“She’s alive!”

“Get her!”

Those men who were running to you suddenly stop though as Eraxis lifts up and stretches out her wings behind you. She roars out, making some gasp. Jon though doesn’t stop, he comes to you, he reaches you just as you can’t hold up anymore, just as you close your eyes and pass out.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

A ruined Red Keep returns to your dreams. Two cradles stand in the middle. You see the snow fall through the gaps on the ceiling. And fire begins to grow around the floor, but that’s it, it always ends the same way, so abruptly. Just like now.

When you wake up albeit, it’s slow, you take in the brightness slowly as you’re actually blinded by the clarity that shines over your eyes. Pain is the first thing that greets you, really bad, sharp and aching pain that radiates from your face down to your shoulder. And it’s when you’re overwhelmed by that same pain that your memory is triggered and passes you like a flash, reminding you of every moment of the battle against…Daenerys, up until you passed out on the shore after seeing Jon.

That means that…the babies….

No you can’t muster that possibility so you sit up to call for someone, only spotting Jon sitting right by you on a chair rather than the bed. He’s passed out so peacefully so you take this moment to study him, make sure that he isn’t hurt.

Which he isn’t. It’d be a shame to wake him though. He looks quite beautiful sleeping.

Yet as if he can feel your stare his eyes soon flutter open, and the moment he realizes you’re awake he jolts up and rushes to your side to cup your cheeks.

“Did you just wake up? Why didn’t you wake me?”

You grin softly and grab his hands. “I enjoyed watching you sleep. You looked quite beautiful.”

He scoffs and shakes his head softly before he fills with concern once more “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod stiffly. “In pain, but yes I’m fine.” You try to offer him an assuring smile, but your worry plagues you. “Jon…what about the babies?”

Jon lips tug to a faint smile. “The maester says they’re fine, they’ve been moving like usual, they’re fine. You just need to be at bed rest for a few weeks to make sure that you don’t come under more strain until your body is healed.”

You sigh with relief and pull his hands in front of you to press your forehead against his hands. “I’m sorry Jon, forgive me for breaking the promise, for putting the babies in danger. I’m sorry.” You mumble with a quivering tone as tears are quick to fill your eyes.

Nevertheless, Jon being the man he is is gentle as he cups your jaw and tilts your head up so you can meet his soft and assuring gaze.

“There’s nothing to forgive, my love,” he assures you softly. “I…didn’t like that you put your life in danger but it was necessary. Thanks to your counter attack, thousands of innocents lived.”

You blink in surprise and feel speechless.

“The city was left alone after Daenerys returned to the city. All she destroyed after was the Red Keep,” he continues to share the news with you. “We were able to retreat. All our armies. Of course the Unsullied and the Dothraki stayed, they’ve taken the city now….”

That was always the plan.

“Rhaenar,” Jon mentions with a smile. “He was picked up from Dragonstone before Daenerys could send word to the army that remained there.”

You smile softly and look around for him but he isn’t here. “Where is he?” You ask.

“Traveling with your sisters. We can’t risk stopping until we reach White Harbor. But I’ve made Rhaegal protect him and the rest of the Dornish fleet from the skies, they’re only a few hours behind. Cersei is also still with them, that’s the best place she’ll be.”

You scoff. “My sisters would never let her out of their sight.” You glance down and sigh. “Ser Jaime?” You ask now that you’re speaking of the Lannisters.

“Here,” Jon answers. “He’s on the boat. He helped us bring you in actually.”

You glance up at Jon and whisper. “Good. See…he did his part.”

Jon scoffs and nods slowly. “I never doubted you.”

You grin softly and caress his cheek. “The others?”

Jon nods. “Hurt, but they’ll be okay.”

You begin to snicker as your worry about them passes and refer to his other sister now. “Sansa? Has she gotten word about what happened? She’ll be happy when she hears who we captured.”

“Yes, she’s heard. Yet all I have read have been concerns and scoldings about you.”

You giggle. “As expected. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I’m sure she’ll tie you down to the bed once you get home.” He adds with a soft grin.

You scoff softly and nod. “Oh I'm counting on it.” You then proceed to meet his gaze and begin to frown since you know that this is only the happy news, you can also see dread in his eyes, it’s not hard to miss.

“What?” You probe in a serious manner. “Tell me. Is it Eraxis?”

Jon frowns and averts his gaze. “No, she’s wounded but she’s fine. She just needs rest. It’s….Daenerys. She’s now considered us traitors. All of us, The North, Dorne, The Reach, The Vale.”

“Okay,” you nod in comprehension and sit back. “That’s expected, I attacked her in front of thousands. Even if it was to save the people she will never see it as anything but betrayal.” You drift your eyes back to him and see only more discontent that now makes your heart pound, and your stomach sink and twist. “What?”

“When the Lords heard what happened,” Jon begins to explain hesitantly. “They suggested we continue to fight against Daenerys for what she did against Kings Landing, and press your claim. So far the Kingdoms that were named as traitors against her and her crown are the ones sided with us, the others are still to be determined.”

Wait….wait? If so much was shared that means that it hasn’t been one day that passed. You were so caught up with everything else that that thought never crossed your mind until now.

“Jon,” you mutter. “How many days has it been since the attack?”

Jon swallows thickly. “A couple weeks. You’ve been in and out. We’re a week away from arriving at White Harbor.”

“And Daenerys?” You probe. “Besides declaring us traitors, has there been a word from her?”

Jon shakes his head. “No. She just named herself Queen. But she has said nothing else. She’s probably waiting for your next move.”

Next move? You didn’t declare war, you just defended the people she said she wouldn’t hurt, the people that had no fault in this war. You only kept her from having her be hated even more by the people. And! She attacked you back first, after that you only defended yourself.

And of course Dorne, and the North weren’t going to like her attacking you, nor were the other Kingdoms apparently who are now siding in a war you still don’t want.

“No,” you interject bluntly. “I won’t declare war or name myself Queen.” You narrow your gaze on Jon and shake your head. “That’s not what I wanted. I don’t want to be her foe, I won’t.” You sit up straight and clench your jaw. “If they want a war they can do it themselves, but I’ll exhaust all my chances to have her forgive me, I still believe in her—”

“She attacked you,” Jon cuts you off . “You, her niece, after keeping her from raining down fire on innocent people. Of course the lords are going to take that as an act of betrayal on her part.”

“You agree?” You press in confusion.

Jon blinks and sighs. “I don’t agree with seeking war, but I know that sometimes there’s no other choice, we have to know when to give up even if it comes to her. I know you care for her, but you need to think about it, y/n. Really think about it.”

The answer is still the same. “I won’t fight against her. That’s my word. And if they want to follow me then they’ll listen. They don’t know what war with dragons means, I’m trying to spare them from tragedy.”

Jon remains quiet, he seems as if he wants to add more, but if that’s what you want then he’ll trust you.

“Alright,” Jon interjects. “We won’t declare war or press your claim. We will try to mend the relationship then.”

You smile finally and nod. “Just give her one more chance,” you say. “Just one more.”

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A/N-IM SO EXCITED! IM SO EXCITED!! It only gets BETTER AHH!!

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #jon snow fanfiction #Jon snow fanfic #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x reader #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #Jon snow #daenerys targaryen #tagaryen incest #Ellaria sand #sarella sand #Elia sand #jaime lannister #cersei lannister #angst

[damn-stark]

Chapter 9 Travesty

Chapter 9 of Sandstorm

A/N- GET READY!!!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, talks of pregnancy, ALSO THERES CHANGES THAT DRIFT AWAY FROM THE SHOW (not big, but there is)

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x04 & 8x05 (only half)

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*2 MONTHS LATER*

“I will not give The Reach to some common sellsword,” Daenerys argues with Tyrion. “It doesn’t matter if he’s won battles or not.”

“The lords of the Reach won’t follow your friend, nor can we actually allow him to have HighGarden,” you defend her argument. “He’s not loyal, he knows nothing about leading a house.”

“Neither did any of our ancestors,” Tyrion tries to input.

You narrow your gaze on him. “No, but we aren’t talking about them are we?” You spat. “If it’s true that he’ll have your head if you don’t give him what you owe him, then he may come and face the wrath of the dragons. We’re not giving him the Reach.”

Tyrion glances at Daenerys for her opinion, and she sighs before giving her answer. “I agree. I won’t. With half of the Iron Fleet destroyed, with the Dornish warriors now at our disposal, we might gain the lead in the war once again. I won’t lose it for some sellsword who has no sense of respect or loyalty.”

Tyrion nods and keeps quiet, letting you continue.

“Beside,” you continue to add. “The Reach and HighGarden deserve to go to someone loyal, someone who’s lived in the land a long time, someone who knows it, cherishes it.”

Sansa hums and steps towards the table in the middle of the room to interject. “The Hightowers are an old house, but a proud one who pride themselves in their religion. A marriage proposal to them doesn’t sound beneficial. They won’t accept Rhaenar, nor the Queen.”

“But,” you add on after her whilst you place a wooden sun with a chevron over it. “Sansa and I think we can gain the support of House Ashford. They’re an old house, during the rebellion they stayed loyal to House Targaryen, they’re respected. If they accept our offer the other Lords will follow.”

“Furthermore,” you continue as you clasp your hands under your small swollen belly. “The Lord has six children, amongst them is a daughter of only five and ten years old. She's older than Rhaenar,” you sigh, “but she’s still unmatched. So with your permission Queen; Jon, Rhaenar, and I will go on dragonback and present the offer in person for you.”

Daenerys glances at Tyrion across the table for advice. And silently without a word, Tyrion nods before he interjects. “Going in person will show that we care, it’s smart. I would have advised it had you asked me.” He says and shoots you a pointed glare.

You offer him an annoyed side eye before glancing at Jon and offering him an urging nod now that your offer was approved.

“If all are in agreement then…Ser Davos will ride down the Kingsroad with the Northern troops, and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied,” he says and drags wooden pieces down the map. “While the Princess, Prince, and I fly on Eraxis and Rhaegal to the Reach to give our envoy to Lord Ashford. We will then meet up with the troops and accompany overhead.”

You nod in agreement, and Tyrion proceeds to add on to the plans.

“A smaller group of us will ride to White Harbor in the meanwhile and sail from there to Dragonstone with our Queen and Drogon accompanying us from above. Ser Jaime will remain here, as guest of the Lady of Winterfell. Questions?” He asks and looks around the table.

Alas, no one speaks up now, letting the meeting disband and everyone go their separate ways; Daenerys exits the room to get ready to leave, and all her people follow her. Everyone else who had been here, like Ser Brienne, Ser Davos, and Arya leave too, leaving Jon, Sansa, Bran the maester, and you in the room. And while the maester is still here you pull your scroll out of your sleeve and walk to the maester to hand it to him.

“I was hoping you could send this to my sister Sarella, Maester, with secrecy.”

The maester nods in agreement without hesitation and tucks the scroll away in his sleeve. “I’ll do it right away, Princess.” He bows before he walks to Bran to take him out too. You then proceed to turn and face Sansa and Jon who had waited to walk out with you.

“Are you ready to leave, Jon? Or do you need to fix your hair?” You tease him as you fall at his side and walk out of the door.

Sansa giggles at your comment, and that makes you smirk deeper.

“Are you?” He counters. “Or do you still need to finish getting dressed? You tend to take forever choosing a dress to wear.”

You scoff and hook your arm around him, noticing Sansa fall at your other side as you now begin to walk down the hall. “Sansa helped get me dressed today actually.” You beam. “I am actually wearing one of the dresses she made me.” You glance at her and shoot her a sweet smile. “Besides my vanity is important, I need to fit my role as Princess.”

Jon scoffs softly in amusement but smiles sweetly as he studies your dress; noting the long white skirt that just perfectly stopped above your feet so you wouldn’t trip, he looks at the thin gold chains that ran down the front and connected to a choker around your neck; he looks at the warm soft brown fur top that was tight around your torso, letting the small bump shine.

“Does that mean freezing to death,” Jon points out to your exposed shoulders.

“Yes,” you retort.

“Did you wear your armor under your dress like I told you?” Sansa interjects, making you avert your gaze and nod speechlessly.

“Liar,” she quips and grabs your arm to pull you towards her.

You let out a dramatic sigh and groan. “It’s bulky, okay? And it doesn’t let me move freely when I’m on dragonback. I hate wearing armor under my dresses.”

Sansa side eyes you. “You’re carrying my niece and nephew in there…

You grin wide at her assumption.

“…I won’t let you leave unprotected,” she finishes saying. “Tell her Jon.”

“I've tried,” he mumbles in defeat. “Hundreds of times. She doesn’t listen to me.”

You smile and roll your head to the side to try and assure them since they’re being thoughtful. “I am wearing ringmail under this for all of your sakes, so rest assured.”

Sansa sighs and shares a look with her brother. “Well it is better than nothing,” she mutters in annoyance.

The three of you take a turn to walk to the courtyard to fetch Rhaenar. And it’s whilst you’re on the way there that you all run into Daenerys turning into the hall.

“Ah,” she mutters and takes note of the two at your sides before she offers you all a small smile. “I was hoping to run into you y/n before we both left.” She directs at you.

Sansa lets out a small sigh and lets you go to step back. Jon does the same, letting Daenerys join your side, and continue walking with you.

“I was just hoping to ask about your visit with the maester this morning,” she brings up almost hesitantly or timidly you can’t tell, you can just see her averting her gaze and giving you some space. “Is everything all right?”

You nod. “It is,” you assure her. “The babies are well, they’re strong, he says.”

Daenerys snaps her gaze to you and grabs your arm to stop you in your tracks, making the pair behind you stop too—“Babies?” She queries in disbelief.

You can’t help but smile even if you can’t tell if she’s happy or bothered by the news. “Yes,” you confirm. “He felt two heads.” Of course you had known before because of the dream, but you couldn’t be sure until they were older and the maester could confirm it for you.

Regardless, Daenerys offers you a happy smile, but she actually swallows thickly all in the meanwhile. You try to read her eyes, but she masks her emotions well.

“I’m happy for you,” she tells you and meets your gaze very briefly.

“Thank you,” you whisper and hope she really means it. Ever since two months ago when she first found out, you and her have not been the same. Conversations are shorter and stale. She can hardly look at you, and her smiles are always tightlipped. She hardly ever pays you a visit in your quarters to just talk; then again you did move into Jon’s room after you announced that you were married so you understand why she wouldn’t.

“Uh,” you continue in hopes you can find something to gain her trust again. “One baby is actually kicking right now like crazy…do you want to feel?”

Daenerys lets her eyes linger on you for a moment before her smile softens and she reaches her hand for your belly. Since she isn’t pressing on the right spot, you gently take her hand and guide it to the side where one of the babies was.

And right away she gasps and slowly begins to grin with joy as she’s able to feel the soft little nudges from the baby.

“They’ll be a fighter,” she mumbles softly. “They have fire in them.”

You glance at Jon and share a smile, whilst you also begin to feel your own heart at ease. You would have said something Jon said when he first felt the babies kick, but that will probably just upset her so you keep that to yourself and mention something else.

“The second baby is a bit more timid. They only kick at night and keep me awake until late.” You giggle. “But I love feeling the flutters.”

Daenerys keeps her hand on your belly and feels the baby kick for a moment longer—and it’s in that moment that she begins to frown with sadness. She doesn’t say anything in that regard though, nor do you want to push it, so instead you watch her pull her hand away and go serious again as her eyes linger on your belly.

“I wish you luck in your travel,” you tell her as you clasps your hands over your belly. “I will do everything in my power to gain the Reach again.”

Daenerys blinks and meets your gaze again. “I hope you do,” she mutters. “It’s important that you do. Just…be careful, okay?”

You nod and watch her turn the hall to head towards her quarters before you move back in between the Stark siblings and continue towards the courtyard. Once there, you all come to a stop just against the railing as you spot Rhaenar and a boy about his age sparring below.

“Great,” you grumble. “He’s going to be all sweaty now.”

“I think he will be fine,” Jon says.

You shift your eyes to the side and shoot him a pointed glare. “That’s what you say, but he might be meeting his future wife, first impressions matter.”

Jon scoffs and presses his hands against the railing before turning his head to look at you with a smile. “You know when I met you I had been on a boat for a month. I was sweaty too.”

You begin to smile and rebuttal. “We didn’t actually talk, we…shared longing glances. We officially met the day after. After you had a bath and brooded all day.”

Jon smirks. “And you smelled like a dragon,” he counters and stifles his laugh.

You gasp and almost take offense, but quickly find a counter and jab back. “You mean I smelled like a very mystical creature I brought into this world by hatching it? Thank you.”

Jon scoffs and rolls his eyes, choosing to focus back on Rhaenar and the boy below. “Well, I doubt you have much to worry about. He made the girl a flower crown from blue Winter roses.”

You snap your gaze to him and probe right away. “He did?” You ask in disbelief since your son hadn’t told you. “When?”

“Last night. He came to me and asked me for advice.” Jon begins to smile, and you glance at your son below whilst you begin to feel happy that he trusted Jon enough to go for him for girl advice. Albeit it is quite hurtful that he didn’t ask you too….just a bit.

“Well that’s good,” Sansa interjects. “It will distract the lady from his sweat.”

You laugh softly and nod, catching Rhaenar and the boy both notice the three of you watching from the railing. Rhaenar smiles up at you and waves quickly before he focuses back on his friend.

“Come,” Jon cuts in and grabs your hand. “Tormund is below. I want to say goodbye before we go.”

Before you follow him below you turn to Sansa to tell her goodbye too since you will be leaving soon. “I will see you after we take the capital,” you say confidently.

Sansa nods. “We will,” she assures you. “Write to me all right? Be careful too, please.”

You shoot her a grin and nod. “I will.” With one last lingering look you turn around and follow Jon down to the snowy ground to meet up with Tormund.

“Are you riding your dragon South?” Tormund asks as he walks to Jon.

Jon scoffs and nods. “I will try anyway.”

When they meet up halfway Tormund goes serious. “I’m taking the Free Folk home. We’ve had enough of the South. The women down here don’t like me.” He says as he leans towards Jon and you.

You scoff softly in amusement and interject. “You can always go to Dorne, I’m sure you’ll find lots of women there.”

Tormund shrugs. “Too hot. And right now you don’t have time for me. When you have won the war I will take you up on that offer.”

“Please do,” you encourage him.

“This is the North, you know,” Jon corrects Tormund. “And the Free Folk are welcome to stay.”

“It isn’t home,” Tormund says. “We need room to wander. I’ll take them back through Castle Black as soon as the winter storms pass. Back where we belong.”

Jon shifts and looks back. When you follow his line of gaze you see Ghost, his direwolf.

“It’s where he belongs too,” Jon refers to his direwolf. “A direwolf has no place in the south. Will you take him with you?” He looks back to Tormund, and the tall man looks at him. “He’ll be happier up there.”

“So would you,” Tormund counters, making you blink and begin to fiddle with your rings slowly.

“I’m happy here,” Jon says back and glances at you. “With my family. I finally found where I belong.”

Tormund scoffs. “Doesn’t mean you won’t miss it.”

You look to the ground and smile softly.

Jon scoffs and smiles softly. “Perhaps when the twins are born I’ll take them to go see the real North.”

“Aye,” Tormund agrees with a grin. “You will so I can give them giants milk and they can grow big like me.”

Jon and you both chuckle. However, Jon goes serious rather quickly as he remembers what this conversation is about. “This is farewell, then,” Jon says.

Tormund agrees, but adds something else. “You never know.”

They both then give one another an embrace, and when they pull back, Tormund holds onto Jon’s arms and continues to add one last thing. “You’ve got the North in you. The real North.” He lets Jon go and then steps towards you.

“I'll see you again Dragonslayer,” he says and grabs your arm to give it a gentle squeeze. “Protect each other. And you bring those babies up North, they need to know where they come from.”

You offer him a sweet grin and nod. “I will,” you assure him. “You take care all right?”

He nods and offers you a gentle smile before he walks away. You then look over at Jon and notice the sad look in his gaze and grab his arm to pull his attention to you.

Once he looks, you offer him a gentle smile and an assuring squeeze. He mirrors your smile and leans over to press a kiss on your forehead before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards his friend Sam, and Sam’s paramour.

Before anything can be said when you all meet halfway Jon let’s you go and embraces Gilly. However, soon thereafter he pulls back and looks down at her belly in shock.

Did he really not notice? Even with the cloaks she has on her pregnant belly is still noticeable.

“Yes, well, the nights have been getting longer,” Sam interjects, causing you to slowly smile at his unnecessary explanation. “And there wasn’t much to do in Oldtown. There’s only so many books a person can read, so we—”

“I’m sure he knows how it happens, Sam,” Gilly cuts him off before he can practically tell the story of how they made that babe.

It makes you stifle your laugh nevertheless.

“If it’s a boy,” Gilly continues. “We want to name him Jon.”

Your amusement dies at the sound of her comment, and awe replaces it. Yet you notice Jon doesn’t feel the same.

“I hope it’s a girl,” he retorts softly before he gives an embrace to his friend. And while they do so, while they talk, you begin to think about baby names. You haven’t given it too much thought yet. You didn’t want to until a couple more months, but now that Gillys mentioned it you think about it too.

Maybe if one is a girl…Rhaenyra feels like a sweet name. If it’s two girls then the other one can be Rhaena. Just so they can have a similar name since they will be twins. If it’s two boys then, Eddard for one. The second one could be….hm…you’ll have to think about the second one further. Maybe they can have a similar name to one of your uncles?

If it’s one girl and one boy though, Rhaenyra, and Eddard sound nice, sweet.

You smile at the thought, and mindlessly press your hand against your small belly, not realizing Rhaenar had now joined you until he nudges you.

“Mother, I’m ready,” he breaks you from your stupor.

You blink and look down at him, seeing Helios perched on his shoulder, and his weapons sheathed on his back and hip.

“Are you?” You ask with a teasing look as you begin to leave the courtyard now that Jon is done talking with his friends.

Rhaenar nods rapidly. “Yes, I am…” he trails off and pushes his clock back to unhook the blue rose flower crown he had hooked on his sheath belt. “I even have this.” He shows off smugly. “For the lady I might get matched with.”

Your eyes water as he says those words, as you realize he's getting older now, but you manage to hold in your tears and smile sweetly. “I’m sure she’ll love them. It’s very sweet of you.”

Rhaenar’s smirk turns to a timid smile as he hooks it back where it was, letting you now focus on Jon walking by your side.

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

Jon drifts his dark eyes to you and nods softly. “I am…it’s just never easy saying goodbye.”

You hum in agreement. “I understand, but just keep in mind that you’ll see them again. It doesn’t have to be goodbye forever.”

Albeit sometimes for you goodbye was the last thing you got to say to those you loved…

“You’re right,” Jon whispers with a sweet smile.

You shrug and make the conversation lighthearted so his smile would grow. “I always am.”

Jon grins, but quips. “Are you?”

You throw your arm around his and nod with a pointed look directed at him. “I am.”

Jon holds your gaze and smirks at you. “Sometimes.”

You roll your eyes and huff in defeat. “Sure, sure. Anyway!” You change the conversation and look ahead as you walk out the castle gates, noticing now that the grounds outside the walls aren't littered with hundreds of people working like before, now only a few were off to the side fixing the outer walls.

It’s quieter now too. Hauntingly peaceful since the thousands of footsteps on the night of the battle are still marked on the dirt ground, leaving nothing but memories of what happened before.

“I thought of baby names when Gilly mentioned hers,” you continue excitedly.

“Ah, did you? Just now?” Jon queries.

You hold onto him tighter and nod. “I did. Of course they aren’t official, just ideas, so you can still think of them.” You let out an excited sigh and share your ideas. “For girls I have Rhaenyra, and the other one can be Rhaena.”

“They go together,” Rhaenar points out. “And they go with my name too.”

You glance down at him and nod. “They do,” you assure him happily. “The main choice will be Rhaenyra if it’s one girl though. I like the name, and admire one woman who bore it.” You smile and glance ahead again. “But anyway, it’s the boy name I can’t think of, I only have one…Eddard. Again you can share your own thoughts, Jon.” You glance at him, and when you meet his gaze you see the soft awed look in his eyes at the mention of his fathers name.

“You’d like that?” He questions.

You hum in agreement, and only see his gaze soften much more.

“I’ll have to think of some names,” Jon says to you. “I’ll have to get back to you about that.”

“It’s okay, you have time.”

“What about you, Rhaenar?” Jon involves him.

Rhaenar runs up the snowy hill to spin around and face the both of you. “Hm, well I quite like Rhaenyra. And I also like Daemon for a boy! Just like the Rogue prince, Daemon who rode Caraxes the Blood Wyrm! Daemon was legendary, he’s one of my hero’s!” He exclaims and spins back around. “Visenya was incredible too! But my mother is already named that, so…maybe Daeron, or Jaehaerys. There’s too many. I’ll make a list.”

You share a soft laugh at his enthusiasm, and find Eraxis beginning to walk down the hill where they had been perched. So you peel away from Jon and run to her to quickly embrace her snout since that’s all you can actually manage to get your arms around.

“<Hello my beautiful girl,>” you greet her and feel her scales under your touch as you caress her.

Eraxis, out of excitement spreads her wings out and nudges herself closer to you.

“<Yes I missed flying with you too.>” You whisper and grin brightly.

“What if Rhaegal doesn’t want me to ride him anymore?” Jon cuts off your moment with your dragon, making you pull back to see that Rheagal had walked down to meet up with him too. “What if it was a one time thing?”

You scoff softly and slowly jog to them. “Well there’s only one way to secure a bond with a dragon.” You grab Jon’s arm, pulling his gaze to you. You smile, and find his lips tempting up close so you lean in and kiss him whilst you stretch his arm out.

“Repeat after me,” you whisper against his lips a bit smugly. “<Serve me, Rhaegal,>” you share what you had read in journals and books of your ancestors and their dragons. “He already let you ride him. Approval from his mother or not Dragons are special creatures, he probably would’ve burnt you or dropped you…”

“How assuring,” Jon mumbles, making Rhaenar giggle.

“I’m sure he'll listen,” you continue, “just tell him what I told you in Valyrian.” You step back and Jon seems hesitant to watch you step back, but you shoot him a wink and watch from up close.

Jon lets out a deep sigh, and keeps his eyes lingering on you for a few more seconds just to take you in in case this is his last moment of life. He then proceeds to blink and looks back at the green dragon that has his eyes on Jon already.

Jon keeps his hand out and parts his lips to let out a small breath.

“What happens if he doesn’t bond with Rhaegal?” Rhaenar asks quietly.

You shrug as you keep your eyes on Jon and the green dragon. “I don’t know. Maybe he gets burnt or eaten?”

Jon snaps his head over as if he heard and retorts. “What?”

You shoot him an assuring smile and shake your head. “Nothing, love, just do it!”

Jon sighs and once again looks at Rheagal. This time he says the words. “<Serve me, Rhaegal,>” he butchers those words but he manages to make them sound somewhat coherent.

“Yes,” you exclaim and hold your hands up in anticipation of what would happen next. “Good.”

Rheagal leans his head closer to Jon and blinks slowly, as if trying to take in the person in front of him. Jon proceeds to slowly drop his hand, and glances at you. Rhaegal then lets out a soft whine and presses his snout against Jon, managing to push him back since he’s so big.

“Did it work?” Jon asks in confusion.

Of that you’re unsure, but he’s not being burnt alive, or getting eaten, so yes?

“Well,” you share your thoughts and walk to Jon. “You’re not being burnt right now, so I’ll say it did. I think he wants you to pet him.” You point out and watch Rhaegal stay pressed against Jon.

Jon lets out a nervous breath and pulls his glove off to carefully press his hand against the green scaled snout.

“When you want him to fly just say, <fly>,” you share that last bit in High Valyrian. “If he’s bonded to you he’ll listen without needing his mother closeby.”

“<Fl?>” Jon mispronounces the word.

You grin. “<Fly>” You pronounce.

“<Fly.>” He repeats slowly.

You clap and nod. “Yes! Exactly good! Now let’s go.” You shoot him one last smile before you spin around on your heels and walk to your dragon's side. “Come, Rhaenar, you’ll ride with me.”

“Aww, I wish Helios was big enough,” he whines.

You carefully step on Eraxis' foot and grab one of her horns. “Soon, my little Sunspot, don’t pout.” You climb up finally after two months, and feel your heart pumping fast at the thought of flying again. Gods know how you missed that feeling. The sight of the sky above the clouds. The fresh crisp air. That chill as you’re flying in the air. That freedom.

Nevertheless, once you’re on your saddle and Rhaenar is sitting behind you you turn around to help him get strapped on, but realize in that moment that you haven’t fixed your broken leg strap.

“Damn,” you grumble. “I forgot to fix it.” You let out a deep sigh and sit up straight up to face your son. “Just strap on one, I’ll fix the other one soon.”

Rhaenar nods and finishes strapping the one strap around his leg to secure himself on your saddle.

“Do I say it now?!” You hear Jon shout.

You snap your head around to face him, and catch him on Rhaegal’s bareback holding on for dear life even if they haven’t moved from the ground. “If you’re ready, yes!” You reply, and hold onto your handles as you keep your eyes on him.

“Okay,” Jon breathes out and looks down at Rhaegal. “<Fly, Rhaegal.>”

And without hesitation the dragon runs ahead a bit before flapping his big green wings and setting off, causing you to grin from excitement, and admiration to seeing Jon on that dragon; on the dragon he’s now bonded with.

Seeing him flying gets you excited and eager, so you too say those same words and fly after them.

——

*LATER*

The winds of winter were a familiar greeting once your feet hit the grass ground, but it’s the land, the castle that’s the stranger now.

“It was a much longer ride this time, how was it?” You ask Jon as you begin to walk down the green hill.

Jon sighs and shrugs softly. “Better than when I rode him during battle. And well you are right…flying is liberating.”

You share a short gaze and a small smile that gets pushed away by the sight of the upcoming White Castle standing below the green hill.

From above the sky the castle seemed relevantly small, the blue pointed roofs seemed short, as well as the tall towers. And their small garden of trees was its most outshining thing within the castle, then again it seems that way because most of the trees were dead due to the cold weather, most; the greenery still hangs on to the branches of the giant cypress trees.

Those same trees aligned the Kingsroad that you’re approaching, they’re neatly shaped adding elegance to the already white grande castle that had its gate covered by luscious greenery, and pink and white flowers that seem to sprout during the winter. The walls around the castle walls were blanketed by twisting vines too. It was really enchanting actually.

Yet that enchantment is soon destroyed due to the marching guards that hesitantly come out of the gate holding the house flag.

They stop just outside the gate and wait for Jon, Rhaenar and you to get close to address you all. “Halt there!”

Their eyes hidden behind their helmets wander around the space behind you, they lift to the sky and search for the beasts you flew on. Once they weren’t visible one of them stepped forward, lifted its visor and showed off dull green eyes.

“Who goes there?!”

Jon and you share a short knowing gaze before you step forward and announce yourselves. “Princess…Visenya Targaryen….” It adds a sour taste to your mouth, saying the name your parents gave you, but it’s the name that most of the older people know you as. “…daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen. With me are my husband Lord Jon Snow, Warden of the North, and my son Prince Rhaenar Targaryen…”

The guard's eyes drift to your son, and then the orange dragon perched on his shoulder. He swallows thickly and stiffens whilst he looks back at you.

“…We’ve come to seek an audience with your Lord Ashford.”

The guard blinks and drifts his gaze to Jon behind you, as if asking for permission from him first.

It’s such a common thing, getting overlooked by both men and women in these parts of Westeros, even beyond the Narrow Sea. You’ve grown used to the cold treatment. Yet it still doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking bother you getting overlooked, especially when you’re higher ranked than Jon. Luckily Jon doesn’t say anything or do anything to answer the man, he makes the guard look back at you.

“Right this way,” the man says and turns stiffly on his heels, causing the other guards behind him to part to the side to let the three you pass by and follow the guard inside.

Once past the outer gate you’re welcomed with a long garden that seems to stop feet away from the entrance of the castle. It’s absolutely beautiful, it’s surrounded by tall green hedges. As you pass the archways that let you inside the garden you see more Cypress trees, you can spot a fountain that holds stone statues of women. There’s benches, and more fountains past the archways, albeit the second one doesn’t hold statues, just water.

“Gods,” you mumble to Jon and Rhaenar, “it’s beautiful here. Imagine this garden in the Spring and Summer.”

“Imagine it when it’s covered by a blanket of snow,” Jon says.

You hum and smile softly at the thought. “That would be beautiful,” you whisper. Now you reach the last archway on the hedge and peek in, catching a third fountain hold statues on the water too, but these statues aren’t just women, they’re statues of The Seven….It’s impressive.

“Wait here,” the guard cuts you off from your awe and pulls your gaze back to him a few feet away from the gates. “I’ll inform the Lord and Lady of your presence.”

You nod in comprehension and watch him walk in, noticing the other guards that had been following behind you march ahead and stay guard in front of the door.

Now however that you’re waiting is when it hits you, the fear and anxiety that make your heart race. No amount of training can actually prepare you for meeting other lords to sway them so that they follow your cause, so that they’ll give their children’s hand in marriage to your own son. Sure if you told Jon to do the talking he would, but it’s you that needed to talk for Daenerys, for yourself.

“I really hope he gets convinced,” you interject and look at Jon by your side.

Jon glances at you and sighs softly before he shifts around to face you. “He will, you’ll convince him. I know you will.”

You turn and face him too, feeling him grab your hands to cradle them in his for comfort.

“Listen to them too,” he says, “just how you tried to listen to me.”

You let out a soft huff and smile timidly.

“I believe in you,” he assures you and pulls one hand away from yours to cup your cheek and pull you in to press a kiss on your lips.

“Look,” Rhaenar cuts in, making you pull away and follow to what he’s pointing to.

That’s when you see three young brunette girls peeking behind the tall glass windows. They notice that you all caught them and seem to smile before quickly disappearing.

“Do you think one of them will be the Lady I’ll be married to,” Rhaenar wonders.

You drop your gaze to look at him and shrug. “Perhaps. What do you think of them?”

Rhaenar blinks and meets your curious gaze. “Well it’s hard to tell since they’re up high and behind glass.”

“Princess, My Lord Snow,” a voice gains your attention, making you look to the opened doors where the main guard now stands. “Right this way, the Lord and Lady Ashford are ready for you.”

Rhaenar lets out a deep nervous breath and glances at you once before he glances at his dragon on his shoulder, and then begins to follow you inside at your side with his chin up and his back straight.

You’re quite nervous too so you keep holding one of Jon’s hands as the guard guides you to the main hall inside the main tower—And just like the outside, the inside of the castle is marvelous too; there's high ceilings, glass chandeliers that twinkle as the light reflects off them. Beautiful stone floors that have a sun carved on them.

Yet the hall isn’t even for the most impressive part, it’s the main room that’s impressive. It’s bright thanks to all the tall windows that are against the walls; it’s almost like a glass room. And there’s tall vases of white flowers that align the pathway to the throne made of dark wood, making the room smell of flowers.

Nevertheless, just on the platform that the throne sits on are those same ladies that had been at the window; there's a set of twins that seem to be around maybe seven and ten wearing long yellow dresses, and at their side just at the edge of the platform is a younger girl, her hair is brown, long and straight, her eyes are dark, black perhaps, she wears a pink dress and sweet smile that lets a dimple show. Across from her is a young man, short but lean, his hair is long and wavy, brown like all the others from his family, he has blue eyes albeit and no welcoming smile; he must be the Lord's heir.

“Princess, Prince, Lord,” a gravelly voice greets, pulling your gaze to the throne to see a short bald plump man on his feet. “Welcome to Ashford.” He bows, and his wife behind him, and the children all curtsy and bow as well. Which is quite surprising considering you’re on “enemy” territory.

“I am Lord Ben Ashford,” he continues, and turns to point at his wife with the same dark eyes as the daughters. “My Wife, Lizbeth Ashford.”

The tall lady gives you a curtsy, so you offer her a sweet smile.

“My twin daughters, Anna and Belle,” he says and points to the girls in their yellow dresses.

You want to laugh at the irony of their names, but you hold it in and look to the last daughter he points to.

“My youngest, Melina…”

Ah, so she’s the girl you want Rhaenar to marry. She seems nice.

Jon and you both look at Rhaenar and smile faintly before looking at the boy who is the Lord’s heir, but don’t pay much mind to him, so he’s done introducing him you let out a small breath and speak. “I am sorry for the surprise visit, Lord Ashford, but I didn’t want to put your family at risk if the Raven was caught.”

He hums and shakes his head. “I understand,” he assures you. “The Kingdom is at war.” He hums and tilts his head. “The last time the Kingdom was at war you were but a babe…”

You blink in surprise and gasp softly.

“It was such a nasty war,” he continues. “I’m sorry for your losses. For the tragedy your family suffered…those poor children were innocent.”

You swallow thickly and nod softly.

“Yet…last I heard beside all the latest news, was that you died when the Lannisters sacked the city.”

You let out a deep sigh and hold his gaze without faltering. “It was said, yes, but I was saved that night by a gold cloak who had served the King. I was the only one he could save, by the time he wanted to save my mother and siblings it was too late, the beast that killed them had found them first. In order to keep me safe, my family, The Martell’s hid me in Sunspear and kept my identity a secret.”

He hums and glances out the window before focusing on you again. “I would have been hesitant to believe your word, but I saw those dragons, we all saw those dragons you flew in with. I would be a fool not to believe you now, so Princess why is it that you’ve come to visit?”

There’s no need longing the topic. Especially not when you’re needed back on Dragonstone. So with one last glance at Jon, you take one step forward and share the envoy. “On behalf of Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, I have come here to share an offer. You served House Targaryen faithfully until the King died. It’s for that loyalty that we ask for your swords, and your undying loyalty most importantly. In return we offer the title of Warden of the South, and Lord of HighGarden, if it pleases you.”

The heir gasps and snaps his head to his father.

“You’re an old house that’s stood in the reach for centuries,” Jon steps forward to interject. “You know your lands better than anyone, you know the people and history. We would want no one else.”

You look at Jon from the corner of your eyes and shoot him a thankful smile before focusing back on the Lord. You watch him take a step down slowly and put his hands behind him. He takes another step down and sighs, and when he reaches the floor you stand on he stops and looks at you with a pointed look.

“You ask me and the rest of the Reach to betray the crown?” He asks in a deep voice.

You swallow thickly and nod. “The Queen who sits on the throne now is doing nothing but losing money, letting her people starve. She’s weak now without her father, without her family, a weak ruler only serves to spoil everyone else. What happens when a flower spoils?”

“Withers,” the Lord answers. “Dies and turns to nothing.”

“Exactly, it would be a shame to lose your house and the Reach, Lord Ashford.” You continue to press with confidence now gleaming in your eyes. “That's why we came with our offer. If you accept, you won’t only save your family, but the entirety of the Reach.”

“My swords, and my crops I assume for the title of Warden?” He questions with a perplexed gaze.

Yes, truly there’s no need for a marriage pact, but it would be to his benefit, and a security for you too.

“Not only that but a marriage pact,” you reveal now. “My son, the Queen’s heir, Prince Rhaenar Targaryen, to your youngest daughter, the Lady Melina.”

Said girl's eyes go wide and fill with shock, whilst the mother fills with disbelief and sadness; which is understandable, you’re sad to marry off your son.

Nevertheless, the Lord looks to your son and then at Jon, probably noting that they look nothing alike and realizing what Rhaenar truly is, a bastard. Yet he says nothing about it, for one the boy is that, a man, they don’t shame bastard sons the same way as girls or those of low birth. And two, it would be disrespectful if he did point it out.

“A Queen,” he mumbles. “You would make my daughter a Queen?”

You nod. “If you accept yes.”

Lady Melina takes a careful step forward and bores her eyes on her father as if demanding with her look alone to accept the offer.

“My son is almost 11, but if you accept then the marriage would happen when he comes of age,” you add.

Lord Ashford looks back to his daughter looking at him with hope, and then looks to his wife to share one knowing look. When he looks back at you he remains serious for a moment before his lips begin to lift to a smile.

“I accept,” he assures you, letting you finally breathe properly. “On behalf of the Reach, and myself we accept your offer, Princess. It gladdens me that a Targaryen once again will sit on the Throne.”

You begin to grin happily and share that happiness with Jon and your son.

“On behalf of Queen Daenerys, and myself, thank you my Lord,” you curtsy and shoot him a beaming grin. “Thank you.”

The Lord nods and then looks back at his daughter getting shaken by her sisters out of excitement to what will be her future. “Melina, come,” he says.

You look at Rhaenar, and he meets your gaze, letting you point your head ahead so he’ll step forward.

He sighs shakily, and then looks over at Jon.

Jon shoots him an assuring look that lets the boy take a few forward towards the young Lady now beside her father.

“Hello,” she greets.

Rhaenar bows his head and then pulls out the Winter Rose flower crown to show it off to her. “It’s for you, my Lady,” he says in a timid voice. “Blue Winter Roses, they’re the most beautiful in the world, well they were…you seem to outmatch their beauty.”

You stifle your laugh and share a teasing look with Jon. He albeit shares a smug look with you. Was he the one who told him to say that?

“Thank you, Prince Rhaenar,” Lady Melina says and crouches slightly so Rhaenar can put the flower crown on her head. Once she stands up to her given height Helios, leans forward and tilts his head to study the girl before Rhaenar.

“This is my dragon Helios,” Rhaenar says. “He’s only a hatchling now, but soon he will be big enough to ride. When the time comes you can ride him with me too. The skies above the clouds are the most beautiful in the world.”

Lady Melina giggles. “I will look forward to those days then.”

Rhaenar nods and turns to walk back to your side.

“Will you join us for lunch?” The Lord asks. “To celebrate our alliances?”

Jon and you share a speechless look, and without needing to converse Jon answers for you. “That sounds great, we still have a long flight ahead of us.”

——

*LATER. DRAGONSTONE*

Half of what remained of the Iron Fleet surprise attacked the Queen's fleet and captured Missandei; Daenerys' most trusted advisor and best friend.

They knew how much Missandei meant to the Queen since they have no one else to hold over her, no kids, no siblings. She has you, but Cersei knows not to mess with you; she needed someone who wouldn’t bring her immediate demise, so she got sweet Missandei, and…killed her in front of Daenerys instead of giving her surrender.

A stupid mistake. Three dragons against a scared army; An upside to this sudden stoop.

Yet, by seeing Lord Varys waiting on the beach for Jon, Rhaenar, and you to climb off your dragons, it seems like there’s only more bad news to come.

“The Northern armies?” Is the first thing Lord Varys asks the moment you all walk over to him.

“Just crossed the Trident,” Jon shares. “They’ll be at the walls of Kings Landing in two days.”

Lord Varys hums and then looks to you. “Congratulations on securing the Reach, my Princess.”

My princess? Hm. Okay?

You sigh nonetheless, and continue walking towards the castle. “Thank you, Lord Varys. It seems it wasn’t as hard as I thought, not only because we had a lot to offer Lord Ashford, but Cersei doesn’t have any love in the Kingdoms.”

“All we need now is the Westerlands. Which won’t be so hard now, even if Cersei is a Lannister,” Lord Varys says.

You hum and look up at the castle as Daenerys' well-being comes to mind. “How is she?”

“She hasn’t seen anyone since we returned,” Lord Varys says, making Rhaenar curious enough to slow down and listen in as well. “Hasn’t left her chambers, hasn’t accepted any food.”

You let out a deep breath and retort. “Missandei was her best friend, she’s grieving. She shouldn't be alone.”

“You worried for her,” Lord Varys adds, as if it isn’t obvious why. “I admire your empathy.”

“She’s my aunt, my friend,” you quip. “Of course I am. Aren’t you?”

“I’m worried for all of us,” he interjects, making Jon and you share a confused look. “They say every time a Targaryen is born the Gods toss a coin and the world holds its breath.”

A stupid belief made up by people who don’t know what ruling really is.

“We’re not much for riddles where I'm from,” Jon interjects to try and understand what he means.

“We three know what she’s about to do,” Lord Varys continues, causing you to stop in your tracks, and making the others walking at your side to do the same.

When Rhaenar does it though, you turn to him. “Rhaenar, why don’t you go on ahead, hm? Get settled, maybe go give your aunt your sympathy, yes?”

Rhaenar hesitates as he wants to keep listening to what you’re all talking about, but he doesn’t argue and goes on to do as you asked.

“We’re at war Lord Varys,” you mutter with displeasure once Rhaenar is out of earshot. “We can't just sit and do nothing. If the Queen wants to act, we act, it’s her decision to make, she is our Queen.” You turn and face the man with a narrowed gaze.

Lord Varys stays nonchalant and responds. “Men decide where power resides, whether or not they know it.”

Jon steps forward and snaps, “what do you want?”

“All I ever wanted,” Lord Varys says and looks between Jon and you. “The right ruler on the Iron Throne.”

You blink in disbelief and shake your head slowly.

Why is this getting brought up again? Daenerys is harsh, but isn’t every ruler? They need to be so. So why is it a problem now? Why want you to betray her?

“I still don’t know how her coin has landed,” Lord Varys continues. “But I’m quite certain about the both of yours.”

You drop your gaze, and let out a deep frustrated breath and share an annoyed look with Jon before focusing on the man before you to counter. “She’s my aunt, Lord Varys, my Queen. You speak of betrayal. Why?” You ask. “She’s done nothing wrong, not yet. She may be harsh, but what ruler hasn’t been? I won’t betray her for something I don’t want, for something neither of us want.”

“I have known more Kings and Queens than any man living,” he rebuttals. “I’ve heard what they say to crowds, and seen what they do in the shadows. I have furthered their designs, however horrible.” He shakes his head. “But what I tell you now is true. You both come from great houses, and have been raised by good people, you are both loved by many. You will rule wisely and well, while she—”

“Stop,” you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “She is your Queen. Let us speak of this no longer.” You grab Jon’s hand and break away from your spot together.

Yet before you can go far, Lord Varys stops you with the right words. “I saved you from the fate that awaited you in your quarters that night, I sent that man to save you those years back…gods know I wanted to save the others…”

You gasp and stiffen.

“…but fate had a hand at saving you. You. Will you really let their deaths mean nothing? She speaks of Destiny, but it is your true birthright, your fate. Do you really think she will let those children you carry inside you live?”

Jon snaps around and takes a long stride towards the man. “You keep my children out of your mouth, Lord Varys.”

“Think about it, Lord Snow,” Lord Varys continues, knowing Jon won't do anything. “Do you want your wife and your children to suffer the same fate y/n’s mother and siblings did?”

You slowly grab your small swollen belly and continue to stand there in disbelief and tears gleaming in your eyes. He’s not right. Even if Daenerys was angry for what fate brought Jon and you, she’d never do that. She’s not a monster.

Why can’t they see that? She’s not a bad person. She’s just…she just needs guidance.

“Y/N,” Jon calls out as you make your way inside the castle. “Y/N, talk to me.”

You huff out. “How dare he bring up my mother? How dare he use their deaths, my vulnerability about them against me?” You grumble and quicken your pace. “He’s, he’s…” you groan out in frustration and stop to take a deep breath. “Why,” you mutter. “Why do they want me to betray her? Sansa, Arya, him? What has she done wrong? People die all the time, Lord Tarley was a cause of war. He didn’t want to bend the knee so he had to die, and the son…I,” you pause and shake your head. “Aegon the Conqueror did the same thing and he gets praised for it, so,” you stammer out instead of continuing your previous comment. “So why judge her? Why be angry at her?”

You hear Jon come to stop behind you, you hear his deep sigh before you feel his gloved hand on your arm.

“They just don’t understand,” Jon says and turns you around so you’ll face him. “Leaders must make hard decisions. Decisions some won’t like. And Sansa is just angry it will pass, with time she’ll see what you see in Daenerys.”

You let out a shaky breath and nod softly as his words assure you. Yet there’s still that thorn, that fear that was getting fed more and more. “And the babies…Jon? Varys knows about you,” you mention now that you’ve settled down. “I try not to, but I know he’s right. I know Daenerys is right as well, about the baby's claims.” Tears gleam in your eyes. “Jon….If the realm finds out they will try and press their claims, not Rhaenar’s, not mine, there’s.”

Jon grabs your face with both hands. “I will tell you again what I have told you before, I will not let anything happen to our children. Not her or anyone else. I will not let them try and control them. They will be fine. You will be fine. And if…anything happens…we can leave to the North. To Dorne. We can go far, I won’t let them take my family away. I won’t let them hurt you, my love.” He then pulls you in for an embrace and holds you tightly.

You hold onto him almost like you’re afraid to let go, you close your eyes and nuzzle your head in his neck.

“Talk to her,” he whispers. “She needs you now. You might be the only one who can talk to her.”

It might also work in your favor considering her cold shoulder.

However, once you reach the meeting quarters where she’s in, you hesitate to even knock on the doors out of that…fear you don’t want to actually feel towards her. One you can’t help, and one that has been in the back of your head since you found out about the babies.

But that’s it isn’t? They want you to doubt her, but it’s not true, she’s not that person…you can’t let yourself be convinced by them. So you knock on the door and wait.

Yet you get no response, so you slowly open the door regardless and poke your head in, seeing her standing at the other side of the room staring out at the ocean past the high balcony. Her hair isn’t braided back or brushed like how she wears it. She’s not dressed in a big dress, she’s unkept.

“Dany,” you mumble and walk in slowly.

Said woman sighs and looks at you over her shoulder with an upset frown. You close the door behind you and slowly walk in closer to her, noticing now the eyebags under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Tyrion was just in here,” she cuts to the chase and turns to face you. “Someone’s betrayed me.”

You stop a few feet away and clasps your hands together to wait for who she’d say in case she was told the wrong person.

“Varys,” she reveals.

You drop your gaze and sigh deeply.

“You knew?” She asks as she immediately detects your hesitation to react.

You nod stiffly. “He….talked to me just as I arrived…” you look up at her and meet her gleaming gaze. “He spoke of betrayal.”

If no one knows who Jon really is, no one presses your children’s claim, no one tries to push Daenerys from her throne and she won’t have to—They might be safe.

That’s why you say it with ease now, Varys' betrayal.

“He wanted me to betray you,” you reveal and clench your jaw.

Daenerys steps down and looks into your eyes in case she sees doubt, and even if you feel fear, and…an inkling of doubt that does make you hesitate, you don’t show it to her because you have to believe she’s good.

“I know you told the others to keep quiet, but you can’t blame them,” you try to talk her out of her anger towards Sansa, since she was the one who couldn’t keep quiet. “Varys is the only one to blame, he wants to press Jon’s claim as well as mine, over yours. The others just shared the news but did nothing. You understand?”

Daenerys swallows thickly and narrows her eyes. “I told you that I didn’t want his secret revealed. I gave you a second chance after you kept secrets from me. And I’ve come to find out now that everyone in my court knows.”

There she goes. You try so hard to defend her against all they say about her, and she goes to say this shit. Yes she’s angry, but this…can’t go on.

“I can’t control them,” you argue as you furrow your brows. “I can’t control Sansa, nor the other Starks. Jon told them because they’re his family, it wasn’t my choice. Yes, I supported him and his choice because he’s my husband. If you want someone to be angry at, blame Varys. Not me, not Jon, and not Sansa. Varys and him alone. But,” you scoff. “If it’s me you want to be angry at then…” you hesitate. “I can’t control you. I just hope you know that I support you, I love you.”

Daenerys clenches her jaw and her breath trembles. She holds your gaze for a few seconds before she averts your gaze and queries. “What is it you think we need to do about Varys?”

You let out a small sigh and answer without hesitance. “Have him meet a traitor's end.” You lift your chin and gently stroke your swollen belly with your thumb.

Daenerys hums and walks to the fireplace to watch the flames dance. She stays quiet, and remains…grief stricken and angry.

You know how that feels. You understand that pain, so you drop the tension that was just built and walk towards her slowly.

“Daenerys,” you call softly. “I’m sorry about Missandei,” you whisper and stop just a bit before her to gently grab her arm. “She was good. I’m sorry you lost her.”

Daenerys draws in a deep breath and closes her eyes as she’s hit with more pain. She sighs deeply, and opens her eyes to glance at you with a watery gaze.

And right now for the first time in a few months she left herself vulnerable to you, she let you see her cry, and let her shoulders fall. She lets you pull you in for an embrace, and returns it tightly.

You smile softly and clutch onto her tighter.

“If it’s a counter move you want to do, I support it,” you tell her, making her pull back to meet your gaze. “We can’t let Cersei think she has the upper hand. We can’t let her get away with it.”

Daenerys sniffles and begins to smirk.

“We can’t hurt the people though,” you continue. “They’re innocent, they’re just a product of bad ruling, so our war is not against them, it’s solely against her.”

Daenerys turns away from you to add her suggestion. “Her brother, and lover, Jaime.”

Your own smirk falters and you begin to shake your head, but she interjects with more.

“We caught him trying to sneak past our lines, he was going back to her. We kill him in front of her and she’ll lose that smirk on her face.”

One man, it’s just one man—But it’s exactly because she loves him, or cares for him that you can’t kill him! You still need him as a pawn against her. Yes, that's it.

“No,” you cut her off. “Not him. If she cares about him then we can use him against her. I just need to talk to him.”

Daenerys squints slightly and investigates why you sound so insistent on helping him from a fate she thought he deserved. “Why would he listen to you?”

You want to smile out of pride for what you want to say, but you notice her pointed gaze and just answer seriously. “He…sort of swore fealty to me. I say sort of because he just promised to make up for the promises he broke.”

Daenerys' gaze hardens, and her eyes drop to hide her glare.

“And what a great job he's doing,” she quips.

You sigh and nod. “Yes, I understand it doesn’t look good, but I’ll talk to him.” You lower your gaze to try and read hers, but she quickly looks up unfazed.

“Fine, but that won’t stop us from striking,” she makes clear.

“I know,” you assure her. “I’m with you. We will make the city surrender. we will win this war.” You grab her hands and cup them gently.

Daenerys lifts her chin and swallows thickly before she nods stiffly. “Fire and blood,” she says with a very faint smirk.

You smile slowly and nod. “Fire and blood,” you repeat. Daenerys' smile falters, but she nods, not letting you see what she truly thought.

“Talk to Ser Jaime,” she deadpans. “Only you.”

You pull your hands away and nod. You leave her chambers blinded with hope that she took in your words and listened, that she cherished your comfort. You believe it, and keep believing that she isn’t a monster others paint her out to be. You believe she won’t be the threat that you fear.

You believe it all blindly in that moment because she’s your family. Even after she had told you to paint the babies as bastards, even after that threat you can’t—you don’t want to think of her any other way. Because if you did then…

——

*LATER. KINGS LANDING*

“<I want to talk to the prisoner,>” you tell the unsullied guard posted in front of the tent that they had chained Ser Jaime in.

The guard nods stiffly and steps aside, letting the others do the same and clear a path towards the tent. Once inside you see him there sat against a post, looking quite pathetic you have to admit.

“Lady Sansa says that you and Ser Brienne have made quite the pair,” you make yourself known. “It would be a travesty that you broke her heart.”

Jaime slowly peers over his shoulder as best as he can, and right away you catch his surprise.

You walk around him slowly to stand before him, and he follows you with his eyes.

“I’d grab a seat for you, but well,” he sighs dramatically and drops his gold hand against the ground.

You draw in a deep breath and keep piercing your unamused glare into him. “You know,” you interject as you grab a seat and sit across from him. “I really wanted to trust you. I mean who goes all the way North to fight the dead after his Queen said he was spared from fighting that war? A stupid man, or a rather brave one. I wanted you to keep your promise, truly,” you scoff and shake your head. “But here you are.”

Jaime sighs and drops his head. “Here I am. Have you come to kill me?”

You cross your leg over the other and shrug. “Eraxis is out there, waiting for me, one word and she’d eat you leaving only that horrible golden hand left behind.”

Jaime scoffs. “As far as deaths go, getting eaten by a dragon wouldn’t be so terrible.”

You smile softly and laugh. “I suppose not.”

Jaime snaps his eyes up at the sound of your laugh and doesn’t know whether to be proud or scared that you laughed.

Nevertheless, you go serious before he can decide.

“What are you doing here, Ser Jaime?” You ask. “Are you going back to her?”

Jaime slowly rolls his head up to meet your gaze, and exhales deeply. “I suppose the answer is quite difficult.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Jaime swallows thickly and whispers. “I love her.”

So you’ve been told. Yet you can’t have much say in that anymore considering….

“She says she’s carrying another child,” he continues, making you sit up and blink in surprise. “I want to save her. But on the other hand I know that can’t happen, Cersei walked into her own death and there isn’t anything I can do about it. There isn’t anything I want to do about it,” he whispers. “Kings Landing may be a shitty place, but…the people don’t deserve what can unfold because of her stubbornness and pride.” He licks his lips, throws his hands out and huffs out.

“So that’s where the problem lies, Princess.” He continues and drops his hands. “Do I betray the women that I love, do I betray my family? Or do I betray the thousands of people in this city, and my oath?”

“Well,” you sigh and hold his gaze with a pitiful look. Not because you are now moved by his words, you won’t tell him to spare her or risk people’s lives so he can live some fantasy with her, but it’s his own struggle that you pity. It’s one you never want to struggle with.

“You know what my answer will be, Ser Jaime,” you say. “I just hope you can make the right choice and help me capture her. Not for me, but for the lives you swore to protect. Because I may not want to admit it…” you pause and hesitate. “But…I know what Daenerys is capable of, I know what Cersei is capable of. And if capturing Cersei from the castle helps avoid the bloodshed of innocents shouldn’t we take that?”

Ser Jaime tilts his head slightly and looks into your eyes for a moment before he smirks. “You’re much wiser than your father ever was, has anyone ever told you that?”

You scoff and shake your head. “No, but I’m glad you did.” You smirk faintly for a second before you go serious again. “Ser Jaime, I don’t want to kill you, I don’t want to see Daenerys kill you. Maybe there are bad things that you have done in your life, yes, but as far as people go, you aren’t such a bad person. You’re one of the good ones, Ser Jaime.”

Said man looks at you with disbelief before he drops his head and scoffs.

“I know it won’t be easy,” you continue and stand up from your seat to get closer to him. “I can’t imagine what it will feel like, nor do I want to ever feel it. But you are one of the only people who can get close to her. You may be here, she may have taken that as a betrayal, but if she loves you then at the end of the day, she won’t renounce you. Giving me the chance to end the war there by taking her and letting the city surrender.”

There’s silence, deafening silence that makes you grow nervous over what he might say, and if he might make that promise to you.

“It’s kind of poetic isn’t it? Funny?” He interjects and keeps his head down. “That I have to face this choice again?” He forces a small laugh and slowly lifts his head up. “I will do it. I’ll help you, I’ll help these people.”

You sigh in relief and crouch down to be at his eye level now. “Thank you,” you tell him softly.

Jaime shakes his head and queries, “why are you so kind to me now? I don’t get it.”

“Well,” you mutter and begin to fiddle with your rings. “You did save my life, my children’s life.” You smile faintly. “That has to be worth an attempt at forgiveness?”

“No,” he argues. “It shouldn’t after the pain I caused you, but…I am thankful.”

You smile wider and give your last explanation to leave him alone. “I’d let you free, but I can’t have one of Cersei's scouts spotting you, it’s best if we use the element of surprise. I’ll let you out tomorrow and share the plan with you.”

Jaime lets out a deep sigh, but nods in agreement nonetheless.

“I’ll have some of my guards bring you supper and water.” You say and stand to your given height. “Goodnight Ser Jaime.”

Said man offers you a nod and redirects it. “Goodnight, princess.”

You walk to the tent's exit and stop to look back and say one last thing. “I really appreciate your loyalty and what you have to do. Thank you.”

Due to the night being so late Jon made you swear not to fly back to Dragonstone, he said “you’re too close to the castle, you can get attacked.” You fought him against it, arguing that someone can sneak in at camp and kill you anyway. But he said that the Northerner men, and the Dornish men you have here now would protect you, so you stayed.

You lay in bed but just stared at the ceiling the entire night thinking about Daenerys, and about everyone’s concerns, your own naiveness towards the situation—but then again it’s like everyone wants her to blow up and destroy everything. They say they can’t trust her, but they never try to guide her. She’s hurt, grieving, and she’s trying to rule over a broken kingdom that desperately needs her, over a sexist kingdom that needs some show of power or else she’s vulnerable. Why can’t they understand that?

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut to hopefully stop thinking about it and get some sleep, but it only takes you under for a moment before you’re woken up by the announcement that a ship is on their way. After that you’re up again and waiting by shore for Jon to dock.

Once he sees you his eyes soften. You get lost in his gaze and offer him a smile until you notice that Lord Varys is not traveling with them. It’s only him, Tyrion, and Rhaegal flying in from above.

She ended up killing him…

He would have put your children at risk, Everyone at risk. It was for the best….

Regardless, once Jon lands his feet on shore you both meet each other halfway in an embrace, as if you had been apart for months.

“Hey,” he whispers.

You grin and pull back to meet his gaze. “I missed you,” you whisper.

Jon smiles softly and cups your cheek. “Me too.”

Your heart flutters, and your smile widens.

“How are you feeling?” He asks with deep concern.

“I’m fine,” you assure him. “Just anxious for what’s to come.”

Jon sighs and frowns. “You should rest until we leave, it will be good for you.”

You scoff. “Rest? I cannot, I have to be briefed, I have to keep my cousins up to date.”

“Are they here?”

You look around and make sure everyone is minding their business to lean in and whisper. “Hidden under the castle.” You pull back and smirk briefly. “My son? How is he?”

Jon scoffs and smiles in amusement. “Upset he couldn’t come.”

You laugh softly. “Expected he would.”

Jon smiles for a second longer before it begins to fade, and you read the dread and concern in his gaze that makes your heart slowly skip a beat as you can tell something is wrong.

“Let’s talk later?” He says.

You try to read him by his look alone, but you can’t tell what he was holding back. “Of course.”

Jon sighs and glances down at your belly to caress it gently before he breaks away and lets you turn to face camp and the two men who stood close, Ser Davos and Tyrion.

“My brother?” Tyrion asks.

You draw in a deep breath and keep your face serious so as to not give anything away. “He’s fine. Locked away.” You abruptly end that conversation there and turn to Ser Davos. “May you share the news to Jon, please.”

See Davos nods and does as you say. “The rearguard should be here by daybreak.”

“She wants to attack now,” Tyrion adds.

Of course she does, she’s impatient. It’s why people can’t trust her.

“Daybreak at the earliest,” Jon says and turns to look at you one more time. “I have to make a few rounds around camp, let’s meet for supper?”

You nod eagerly, and let your gaze linger on his until he turns to talk to some of his men, leaving you to turn to talk to Tyrion, but ending up seeing him and Ser Davos talking—no murmuring to each other a few feet away.

It’s probably about Jaime, fuck hopefully he doesn’t try anything before you can let him out.

“Tyrion,” you interrupt his conversation and walk over to him and Ser Davos.

Both men stop talking and turn to face you.

“May I get the briefing from the Queen?”

Tyrion spares one last glance at the old knight beside him before stepping away to walk with you instead.

“Lord Varys died last night,” Tyrion shares. “For his crime of treachery.”

“Yes,” you nod stiffly. “I told her to.” You grab Tyrion’s hand and stop him from walking. “Considering what he was asking of me and Jon. Why did you tell him?” You whisper.

Tyrion glances around before meeting your gaze. “He had a right to know.”

You swallow thickly and let out a deep sigh. “No, it was meant to be kept a secret. You should’ve kept it at that.”

No one needed to tell you who had told Lord Varys, it was obvious it was Tyrion. He’s the only one who would share something like that to him.

“Now he’s dead….do you know if word got out?”

Tyrion shakes his head. “No, I don’t.”

You let his arm go and continue walking. “Well, we’ll know soon enough if it did.” You clasp your hands together to begin fiddling with your rings. “Anything else?”

Tyrion nods and adds on. ���Tomorrow when you hear the bells ring it means that the city has surrendered, don’t attack after those bells ring.”

“Yes,” you say. “I know. I was hoping it would be that way.”

“It was hard to convince her to do it,” he admits, making you drop your gaze and swallow thickly out of…slight fear. He kept talking about the rest of the plan for tomorrow, but that’s all you could think about, that slight twinge of fear.

Still though, you keep telling yourself they’re wrong about her.

“About your brother,” you add after he’s done speaking. “You may not go talk to him, I’m sorry but I can’t risk you letting him go free.”

Tyrion stops walking, so you stop too and turn to face him.

“But,” he tries to rebuttal.

“No,” you cut him off. “I know sibling love, Tyrion. My sisters may not be my actual sisters, but I was raised alongside them, I love them as such. I know the lengths I would go to to save them too. That’s why I’m telling you to please leave him alone. For your sake and his.” You keep your eyes on his own perplexed and upset one’s for a second, before you turn on your heels and head to Ser Jaime yourself before Tyrion could eventually go.

The moment you’re inside you make yourself known right away. “Ser Jaime,” you greet as you walk into the tent.

Said man sits up from his seat against the post and peers back. “Princess,” he greets in return. “I almost thought you wouldn’t come.”

You slowly walk over to stand before him, noticing the dirty plates and cups they had yet to pick up from the ground.

“I said I would,” you tell him as you pick up the utensils. “Just so you know you’re brother just arrived. I’m certain he’ll come to try and get you out later. I hope you know how to drift him away. I mean only if I can’t get you out before then.” You put the stuff down on the table at the far corner and then turn to face him.

“Well, I’ll try my best,” Jaime says. “But my brother is quite stubborn.”

“Runs in the family then?” You snap back with a smirk.

Jaime scoffs softly and nods.

You blink and look down to let out a small breath before you walk over to him to crouch down and whisper your plan. “If you are true to your word by tomorrow. Go down to the caves where the dragon skulls are kept, past there will be a stairwell that leads down to a cove, I’ll wait for you there with my sisters.”

Jaime blinks and furrows his eyebrows. “Sisters?” He probes.

You hum. “My sisters have come to save Ellaria, Cersei didn’t kill her so my little sister has come to save her mother in the chaos that will be tomorrow.” You smirk as you share. “We’ll meet you there while Daenerys is attacking the walls.”

Jaime looks down at the ground and nods slowly. He begins to pick up dirt and adds to the conversation with his own questions. “And if your Queen attacks the castle?”

You sigh. “Then Eraxis and I will fly up, meet you there inside.”

“And how am I meant to get in the castle?” He continues to ask.

“Someone I trust will let you out later, they will have a cloak and a uniform you can wear. Use that.” You answer his question. “You can use the cover of night to hide.” You narrow your gaze and press him as you sense some uneasiness. “I know it won’t be easy, but I can count on you, right?”

Jaime lingers in silence that makes you doubt, but he soon mutters. “Giving her up will help end the battle?”

You shrug. “I hope,” you answer with the truth. “At the moment things change, but I do want that battle to end there.” You nod and gnaw on your lip out of nervousness. “Will you help me then?”

Jaime finally meets your gaze and swallows thickly before he nods in agreement, making you offer him a soft smile. “Thank you, Ser Jaime.” You whisper to him sweetly. You stand up to your feet and step back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember don’t speak to your brother about anything if he catches you still here.”

“I understand,” he assures you.

You offer him one last smile before you walk out and head back to your tent to write ravens and go over plans. You sat but didn’t rest, didn’t calm down with the chaos that is preparing and planning for battle. A sense of peace doesn't come until Jon enters the tent with bowls of supper.

“It’s not all five courses, but it will keep you full,” he breaks the silence of the room.

You put your pen down and send your friend away that is going to help Jaime.

“Remember tell the guards that I command them to get a break.” You tell him.

The man nods and turns to leave Jon and you alone.

“Finished?” Jon probes.

You stand up from your chair and nod as you walk over to the small square table where he sets down the plates. “How have you been today?” You ask as you sit down across from him.

Jon sits down and picks up his spoon. “All over the camp. It’s been stressful. Did you talk to Ser Jaime yet?”

You nod and pick up your spoon to begin scooping up some supper. “I did. Hopefully it all goes smoothly.”

He hums. “You’ve gotten some sleep yet?”

You take a bite first and swallow before shaking your head. “Not yet hopefully now once I’m done with supper…if you’ll join me.”

Jon smiles faintly at his food and nods. “I will.”

“Good,” you whisper and take a few more spoonfuls of your food in silence, peaceful silence that has been lacking all day.

Yet it’s as that is happening that you begin to notice his look turn more and more somber, his frown deepens like before, and your heart feels as if it’s skipping beats.

“You remember that I wanted to talk to you?” Jon breaks the silence.

You slowly put down your spoon and nod slowly. “Hm.”

Jon sighs deeply and sits up to meet your gaze. “Well…it’s about…Daenerys.”

You blink in disbelief and keep quiet so he can continue.

“Last night when she executed Lord Varys, I noticed that she had no remorse…she had no guilt.” He says, making you feel a pit on your stomach and even more heightening disbelief at what you imagine he’s trying to get to—“I understand what happened..but Lord Varys was with her for a long time, and she looked as if she enjoyed it.”

You set your hands on your lap to discreetly fiddle with your rings, and repeat what he’s saying in your mind over and over again to try and fully understand.

“What if Sansa is right? What if Lord Varys had some reason?”Jon asks.

You shake your head and get up from your seat to face the doors of the tent. “It’s….hm. Why should she show remorse?” You counter and turn to face him with perplexity. “Would you show remorse for a traitor?”

Jon shakes his head. “No—”

“Exactly,” you cut him off and turn around to pace to the bed. “That can’t be the only reason why you doubt her now, she’s not like what they want her to be.”

“And if she is?” He probes regardless. “Perhaps we’ve been too blind. She doesn’t listen, she’s too hasty, impulsive. She can hardly even look at you, how long will it be until she turns on you? I told you I want to keep you safe, I want to have my family live,” he argues and gets up from his chair to slowly step towards you.

You shake your head and keep trying to fool yourself that they’re all just being too judgmental.

“Last night,” he continues as he now stands behind you. “She told me that if it’s fear that they want to feel towards her, then she welcomes it, she doesn’t care if the people love her not anymore, not after Missandei.”

You blink repeatedly and that pit deepens until you begin to feel nauseous because you know you have no reason denying his words, Jon is not a liar, he’s honest. His words would never be a lie.

You turn and sit down on the edge of the bed to drop your head and get lost on the ground as you sank it all in, as you keep trying to deny it.

Jon sighs and sits next to you, he takes your hand and interlaces it with his.

“I know she’s your family, but sometimes duty is the death of love…she’s lost…” he trails off, and you keep trying to deny it.

“I can’t accept it,” you whisper in her defense. “We’re supposed to win together. Bring back what our family lost, together…” you pause and close your eyes to sigh slowly and shakily.

Jon swallows thickly, and doesn’t argue he just says one last thing. “Tomorrow if things change, if she doesn’t follow the plan. If she tries anything, you fly the other way, swear to me.”

You open your eyes and slowly lift your gaze to meet his.

“Nothing is worth it if I lose you,” he whispers and cups your cheek with his other hand. “So swear to me that you won’t fight her. I can’t lose you.”

Without hesitation you nod to assure him. And you mean it because you have faith in her that she won’t become what they fear.

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Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo @ashleyforeverareject

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #Jon snow #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x you #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x y/n #jon snow fic #jon snow x reader #Daenerys Targaryen #sansa stark #jaime lannister #angst #Targaryen incest #chapter 9

[damn-stark]

Chapter 6 The white wolf & The white dragon

Chapter 6 of Sandstorm

A/N- since it’s my birthday I released it earlier. Also I CAN'T WAIT TO WRITE THE NEXT CHAPTER, some things are gonna change from what’s on the show, be ready!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, fluff, incest, ANGST, slowburn, talks of pregnancy and abortian.

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 8x02 & only small part of 8x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

What is a lion without its pride?

Nothing but a lonely wanderer vulnerable to other lurking predators.

That’s what Jaime is now, nothing without his sister or father to keep him from death.

“When I was child, my brother would tell me a bedtime story,” Daenerys interjects in such a venomous tone that frightens you for obvious reasons. “About the man who murdered our father.”

Yeah because he was such a great guy. Please.

“Who stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Who sat down on the Iron Throne and watched as his blood poured onto the floor,” she continues. “He told me other stories as well. About all the things we would do to that man once we took back the Seven Kingdoms and had him in our grasp. Your sister pledged to send her army north.”

Jaime nods, “she did.”

Daenerys scoffs. “I don’t see an army. I see one man, with one hand. It appears your sister lied to us.”

Yeah well is anyone really surprised? You definitely aren't.

“She lied to me as well,” Jaime interjects. “She had no intention of sending her army North. She has Euron Greyjoy’s fleet and 20,000 fresh troops. The Golden Company from Essos, bought and paid for…”

You scoff at the sound of his words that only proved your concern right about not trusting her.

You look over at Jon to share your proud look after being right, but just as he feels your gaze and looks, he quickly averts his gaze and stiffens.

Did something happen between last night and this morning? He never came to your chambers at night like he said he would, he didn’t attempt to talk to you earlier either, he’s been…cold, distant.

Maybe the news of the baby did actually upset him now that he’s had time to really think about it.

And if he is, he only needs to say the word…

“We?” You catch Daenerys snap back to something Jaime had said.

“I promised to fight for the living,” Jaime explains to her, “I intend to keep that promise.”

Daenerys looks over at you, and you slowly look over at her to share the same angered look.

“Your Grace, I know my brother,” Tyrion cuts in, causing you to snap your gaze over to him and snap back.

“Like you knew your sister? You don’t get to speak on this matter. He is your brother.”

Tyrion lowers his gaze and sighs deeply before continues regardless. “He came here alone, knowing full well how he’d be received. Why would he do that if he weren’t telling the truth?”

“Perhaps, he trusts his little brother to defend him, right up to the moment he slits my throat, or stabs my family through the back.” Daenerys counters spitefully.

“You’re right,” Sansa pitches in. “We can’t trust him. He attacked my father in the streets. He tried to destroy my house and my family, the same as he did yours.”

“Don’t you want me to apologize?” Jaime interrupts, making you furrow your eyebrows and narrow your gaze deeper. “I won’t,” he continues. “We were at war. Everything I did, I did for my house and my family. I’d do it all again.”

You scoff before you lean forward on your chair and clasps your hands on the table to then interject. “So you’re saying you’d break your promises, sacred oaths? You would let my family get killed all over again? All for what?” You spat. “Three seconds of glory?”

“The King was mad, he would have—”

“I don���t give a shit about King Aerys,” you cut Jaime off, and earn a side glare from Daenerys. “He was a cruel man. Mean to his own kin. It’s said my own father planned to overthrow him. So I don’t care about that old fucking King, I am talking about my family, my mother, my five year old sister and baby brother, Ser Jaime.” You slowly stand up as you begin to scowl. “The ones you promised to protect,” you continue to spat, causing Jaime to blink rapidly and go rigid as you catch him off guard with your comment.

“Tell me,” you say and lift your chin to look down at him. “Tyrion Lannister, what is it that happened to my family? What is it that your father order happen? What is it that Ser Jaime Lannister let happen?”

Tyrion clears his throat, “I wasn’t there, Princess.”

“Say it,” Daenerys commands him.

Tyrion let’s out a deep sigh and parts his lips to speak, “it’s said that…the Mountain smashed prince Aegon's skull in the wall in front of his mother. That Princess Rhaenys was dragged from under her fathers bed and stabbed fifty times…and that Princess Elia was…raped and murdered.”

You hum and tilt your head as you keep holding Jaime’s stare. “Yes,” you mutter. “So Ser Jaime, would you let that happen again? Would you break that promise?”

Jaime’s gaze falls, and now he has nothing to say back in his own defense. It makes you proud that you can cause such an effect on such a proud man, that you can leave him speechless.

“The things we do for love,” Bran suddenly interjects, making everyone around the table including you to look at him.

And he doesn’t add anything else to his comment, he just awkwardly leaves it at that; Jaime doesn’t say anything either, so you just take a seat and let out a small sigh to try and keep the bad memories away.

“So why have you abandoned your house and family now?” Daenerys asks.

“Because this goes beyond loyalty,” Jaime responds and glances at his side. When you follow his line of gaze you see him looking at Lady Brienne—“this is about survival.”

You hum at his comment and sit back in your chair, catching in that moment Lady Brienne stands up.

“You don’t know me well, Your Grace, Princess,” Lady Brienne adds and walks to the center. “But I know Ser Jaime. He is a man of honor. I was his captor once. But when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me. And lost his hand because of it. Without him, my Lady, you would not be alive,” she says and glances over at Sansa. “He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he swore an oath to your mother.”

You break your gaze away from Lady Brienne to drift your gaze to Sansa, seeing her gaze drop and her face express distraught.

“You vouch for him?” Sansa queries and blinks to look at Lady Brienne.

“I do,” she says.

“You would fight beside him?”

“I would,” Lady Brienne says with confidence, making you feel…indifferent about her. Not in a bad way, just different. Maybe more respect for her.

“I trust you with my life,” Sansa continues. “If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay.”

Daenerys snaps her head in Sansa’s direction with disbelief, wanting blood as revenge and not pardon.

“What do you say about this Princess?” Daenerys asks you as she looks ahead at the man in trial.

You blink and look at Jaime too, you play Lady Brienne’s words in your mind, as well as Sansa’s. Even if anger wants to get the best of you, even if you crave to also burn him alive, you step back and don’t let your emotions cloud your judgment. You couldn’t.

“If Lady Sansa vouches for Lady Brienne,” you interject with a sigh. “Then…I second it. He can stay. Besides, we will need men for the battle to come. I do hope you keep your promise now, Ser Jaime.”

Daenerys shoots you another side glare before she hesitates for a moment, and then finally adds her last word. “Very well.” She then looks over at Greyworm standing at the other end of the table, and with her look alone, he grabs Jaime’s sword to hand it back to him.

The meeting is disbanded after that, Jaime bows and gives his thanks to the Queen, and Sansa leaves the hall first. Daenerys turns to look at you, but you quickly avert her gaze and look at Jon. Yet he hardly meets your gaze before he walks past you without a single word. He just leaves. Daenerys leaves after that, leaving you to stand alone at table with two options, walk after her and argue about this affair, or go after Jon and interrogate his weird behavior.

Yet as much…as you care for Daenerys, he means more to you. So you go after him.

Thankfully he doesn’t make it far, but when you see him down the hall you do see him talking to Sansa.

“Princess,” she greets and ends whatever it is she was talking about with Jon when she spots you approaching. “Or should I call you sis—” she cuts herself off as she catches Jon’s pointed glare due to her lack of discretion. “Princess,” she corrects herself with a teasing smirk.

You stop just beside them and glance at Jon one more time before you meet his sister's gaze and greet her back.

“Lady Stark.”

“I admire your choice,” Sansa says. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy. And for that I’m sorry.”

You clasp your hands together and offer her a gentle smile. “Thank you, and it wasn’t easy. But my uncle Doran, would say not to let my vengeance cloud my judgment. No matter how much I wanted Ser Jaime to burn alive.” You scoff. “Besides I also like to think about Rhaenar, what my actions teach him.”

Sansa hums and offers you a kind smile. “I like that.”

You shoot her a smile. “Thank you,” you mutter.

“Hm…” she trails off and looks between her brother and you before she continues. “Well, I will leave you two be.” She begins to smirk and steps back. “I hope we can talk later, Y/N, so you can show me your dress.”

You smile wider and nod eagerly. “Of course, I would love that.”

Sansa smiles softly one more time before she turns and walks away. Once you can no longer see her anymore you look to your betrothed and add a comment hoping that can break this weird tension. “She seems excited.”

Jon hums and slowly meets your gaze with a very strained smile. “I haven’t seen her this excited in a long time, so maybe I should thank you.”

You scoff and shake your head as you feel flustered by his comment. “I try my best,” you tease him, and earn a more genuine smile. But even then he can barely hold your gaze, so you immediately probe and don’t hold back anymore.

“What's wrong? You’ve been distant, kind of cold, did something happen?” You want to ask about the baby, but it’s dangerous to ask in such a public hall.

Jon knows that and grabs your hand to walk you down more stone halls, past doors, down steps, until finally he reaches his chambers and walks you in there. When he closes the door though he remains quiet, distant still.

“Jon,” you whisper and keep your distance. “What’s wrong? If this is about the ceremony we can have it some other day…” you blink and sigh. “And if it’s about the baby then…the maester said I should talk to him soon if I change my mind.” You flicker your eyes up and see him averting his gaze.

“Jon,” you whisper and finally approach him. “Please talk to me.” You grab his hands and he finally blinks and meets your gaze with a deep frown and a melancholy look that makes you catch your breath.

“It’s not about the baby…” he says. “It’s about me….Sam told me about my true parentage last night.”

Has he been brooding about that? Is that why he never went to your room?

“Really?” You sigh with relief. “That’s good. I mean…right?”

Jon swallows thickly and continues without expressing any sort of happiness. “My mother,” he says. “My mother is Lyanna Stark….”

Your own relief begins to dwindle and your heart strings begin to twist as you wait for the next part, the part of the father…because there’s so many answers that can be said.

“And my father. My true father is…Rhaegar Targaryen.”

You blink in disbelief and pull your hands away from Jon’s as you feel your heart sink to your stomach at the sound of his revelation, at the meaning behind it.

Rhaegal…that explains that.

And your father…he…While you and your family were trapped in the Red Keep belittled by the man he called father, he was out having a child with her….he was…what? Enjoying his life? Breaking his vows to your mother?

“I know—”

“What?” You cut him off sharply with tears stinging your eyes as you held them back. “Did they marry, or did he take advantage of her? Can Sam tell you that?”

Jon sighs and averts his gaze. “They married,” he whispers.

Stupid fucking bastard.

Your mother, Aegon, Rhaenys, they died, you almost died because he was chasing after some younger woman. Because he preferred her.

“I’m sorry,” he says as if he’s the one to blame for the discretions of his father and mother.

And maybe you should blame him too, hate him because he was born out of that love they kept a secret. But in all honesty…maybe you’re a fool because you can’t…you can’t bring yourself to hate him, only them.

“It’s not your fault,” you assure him quickly and meet his gaze without tears brimming your eyes. You just can’t cry or get angry about this subject in front of him.

Also there’s matters to consider now, like how Jon is your half sibling….

Not like it bothers you whatsoever though. By law he is still a bastard, marriage or not his mothers marriage to Rhaegar doesn’t count. The people are probably willing to turn the blind eye just to have him be King, but if they follow the law then the marriage doesn’t matter. Plus, he wasn’t raised by Rhaegar, he only knew of his true father until last night, so it shouldn’t bother him—then again people from the North are different, they don’t share the same…morals you do as a Valyrian.

“So…then does it bother you?” You ask and go serious. “That we share the same father?”

Jon lets out a deep sigh and walks past you to watch the flames dance in the fireplace. You turn and watch him brood for a second before you walk after him, but keep your distance for his own sake.

“He never raised me, I never even met him,” Jon argues. “Ned Stark raised me, he is my father, but…”

He’s going to say he can’t isn’t he?

“…doesn't it bother you?” He suddenly asks and turns around to face you with his face contorted in that same sad look he always seems to carry.

You blink and look at the floor as you clasps your hands together. “Rhaegar may be blood of my blood, we may share the same name, he may be the reason why I am here, but I don’t respect him.” You look at Jon and face him with tears in your eyes now.

You just can’t hold them back.

“He’s the reason I don't have my mom, my sister, my brother, he’s the reason I had to escape home,” you continue. “He destroyed my life…he will never have my respect. My uncles are the father he never could be. So no, it doesn’t bother me…but you,” you utter unsurely. “You can’t just stay with me because of the baby, I can’t make you do that, so tell me the truth, be honest, does it bother you?” You ask with a fearful gaze.

Jon lets out a deep breath and keeps his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he looks at your belly, and then drops his gaze.

Out of fear of his response, of his reaction, you begin to fiddle with your rings and hold your breath in hopes he doesn’t break what you do have, that he doesn’t break the promise of an eternal life together.

“Why don’t you care?” He mutters and meets your gaze. “Knowing who I am means I am now a threat to Daenerys, to you and Rhaenar.”

“Right now?” You say softly. “Because my love for you means much more than a stupid iron throne.” You breathe out shakily and see his eyes soften. “If you were to tell me to leave it all behind, if you asked me to stop fighting and have a life here, I would. It all means nothing without you. I don’t want to lose you. That’s why.”

“I am not Stark, not really, nor am I a Targaryen, I don’t think I would ever consider myself that. I have no reason to go against Daenerys or you, nor do I want you to stop fighting because of me,” he says and takes a step closer to you, making your heart finally begin to unclench. “So…no…it doesn’t bother me. I don’t want to lose you. Or our family.”

You smile softly yet you don’t find relief yet as you do remember about your other problem.

“And what about Daenerys?” You press seriously. “Will you tell her?”

Jon sighs and nods hesitantly. “I have to. I’d rather she hear it from me. So please let me talk to her.”

You nod as you find trust in his words, only because you don’t want to face her wrath when she finds out. It’s a miracle she accepted you to be at her side knowing you are her brother's offspring, “the rightful heir”.

Then again it’s not like she had any other blood family besides Rhaenar and you…she’d be foolish not to let you in.

“All right,” you sigh but squeeze in one last question. “And your family?”

“I’ll talk to them too. Soon.”

You let out a relieved breath and let your eyes linger on him for a moment before you both give in to desire and close the gap and crash your lips together. He grabs your waist, and you grab his cheeks and linger in the feeling. As he does too.

Your heart flutters, and your body finally untenses as you’re no longer frozen with fear.

“So,” you whisper against his lips. “Am I still wearing that dress or should I look for someone else to marry? The Baratheon bastard isn’t so bad on the eyes, hm.”

Jon scoffs in distaste. “Yes, the ceremony is still happening, I’m still going to marry you.”

You grin softly and tilt your head as you caress his cheek.

“Rhaenar is excited,” you mention. “I told him last night, he’s excited to present me to you.”

Jon smiles softly. “That’s good.”

You hum and let your eyes linger on him for a moment longer before you pull away from him. “I need to go to my chambers and do some stuff. Maybe rest for a bit.”

Jon's eyes instantly express concern as he glances down. “Are you okay?” He asks.

You nod. “I am. These early stages are just hard, so I need to rest for a moment.”

Jon caresses your cheek and nods in comprehension. “All right. I should go too before people come looking for me.”

You press one last kiss on his lips before you pull away again for good this time and leave without another word. He doesn’t follow, nor does he ask to walk you—not like you want him to walk you. You want to be alone. You need to be alone. The anger you feel for your father still burns fiercely within you, the truth still hurts you. The realization of what happened after he left stabs deeper into your heart, welling your eyes with more and more tears the closer you get to your room.

Yet you don’t let those tears out in the hall, you clench your jaw and breathe heavily. You don’t run to try and reach the intimacy of your room faster, you just stride there quickly and see every bit of your surroundings blurry.

That is until you reach your room. Those tears you held back come out as an angry sob, and those deep breaths begin to tremble. All you want to do is lay down and cry, cry until you can't shed another tear. Yet right away you’re reminded of something you had held dear to your heart.

You swipe a blade from your desk and storm over to the end of your room to uncover your fathers painting.

And now as you see his face, as you see his eyes, all you feel is utter disgust and burning fiery. That spark that was the love you held for him was completely blown out leaving nothing. Not even the good memories you cherished. Nothing.

So it’s easy stabbing the blade through his face, it’s relieving slicing the stupid painting over and over again until his face can no longer be put together, until it’s no longer recognizable. And not an ounce of guilt hits you when you grab it and examine the damage. You actually smile as tears come out of your eyes.

“I will get whatever you never could, father ” you mutter to the shredded painting. “For me. For my mother, my sister, my brother. Not you. Never you,” you spat and lift your gaze to watch the flames dance in your own fireplace.

The flames brighten your eyes and the smirk on your face.

“I hope you’re burning in all seven hells,” you grimace before you throw the painting in the flames.

You wipe the tears off your face and watch the painting wither away until there’s nothing but ashes. After that you clear your throat and walk over to look at yourself in the vanity.

Your face is red, and your eyes still gleam from the tears you had shed. The heartbreak is clear. Luckily, the coldness disguises your redness as simply that. And the heartbreak that is so clearly featured within your gaze can just be worry.

And people believe that, when you step out in search of Rhaenar no one bats an eye, not even those who you had traveled with. Not even Rhaenar himself.

Then again you wouldn’t let them see you down, they can’t see you down. And as of your son, well he was busy reading with Ser Jorah.

“Am I interrupting?” You make yourself known.

Both Ser Jorah and Rhaenar look back at you, and the boy quickly smiles, but doesn’t ask any questions.

It’s good though, to tell him the truth about his grandfather is something you don’t need him to know yet.

“Mother!” He greets you happily. “And no you’re not, Ser Jorah was just helping me with my studies.”

Ser Jorah stands up and nods as he smiles timedly. “A good prince needs to be well taught of his country's history.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes. Even if that boy doesn’t much like to study.”

The orange dragon, Helios, flaps to the little boy's shoulder and tilts his head as he sees you.

“Well,” Rhaenar scoffs. “There are better things to do.”

You roll your eyes and Ser Jorah chuckles quietly.

“I hope I can take my son if that’s okay,” you interject.

Ser Jorah nods right away. “Of course, Princess. We have been studying for quite some time, he deserves a short break.”

You hum and step aside to watch Rhaenar run out of the library with his dragon on his shoulder. You offer Ser Jorah a small smile before you follow your son out to the hall and begin to lead him towards the chambers where the dragon eggs are kept.

“Mother,” Rhaenar asks as you walk down the hall. “Why is it…” he pauses and lets out a deep sigh. “Why is it that the people here don’t like talking to me? I mean the Stark’s do, but the others, their people…they give me weird looks all the time, and all the other kids avoid me, even when Helios isn’t with me.”

You blink rapidly in disbelief and swallow thickly.

All the dirty looks, the looks full of judgment and hate is something you noticed, but after riding here you just ignored them, there was no point. And it’s like Jon says, they’ll warm up with time.

Yet hearing that Rhaenar gets those same looks, hearing that he’s been avoided because of who he is, what he looks like lights an anger within you that is unlike any other.

However, you can’t let that grow bigger. No matter how much it tempted you.

“Well,” you mutter as you come up with a good answer. “People here don’t normally see people like us. That’s all.” You glance at him and see him stare down as he listens to your every word. “You just need to give them time, okay? Continue to be kind like you are already, and if anyone dares to say anything tell me right away.”

Rhaenar looks up at you and gives you a partial smile as he nods in agreement. “All right,” he whispers. He then blinks and begins to smile. “When are Sarella and Elia coming? I want to see them. I want them to see Helios.”

You scoff softly, “soon.”

The chamber now stands dead ahead, and two Unsullied stand guard out the door. It’s a miracle Daenerys didn’t keep them in her quarters, she took them as if they were actually hers, when it wasn’t even her dragon who birthed them.

“Why are we here?” Rhaenar asks as the guards grant you access. “Did one of them hatch?!” He exclaims and runs to the heating pots. Yet when he opens them he finds both of them still over the kindling. “Oh.”

You clasps your hands in front of you and make sure that you don’t hear anyone approaching before you interject, “if you could pick between the blue or the silver one, which one would you pick? Hm?” You ask and slowly walk to the end of the table.

Rhaenar lifts his head and furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Mother,” he mutters, whilst his dragons hops on the table to approach the pots. “I already have a dragon.”

You scoff softly and nod. “I know that,” you tell him. “But if you could pick one for someone else, which one would you pick, hm?” You begin to smile wider and slowly put your hands over your belly.

Rhaenar blinks and keeps still for a second before he turns on his heels to examine both dragon eggs.

He looks at the one that gleams silver, and then looks at the blue one that gleams like a beautiful sapphires. His dragon leans his head in the pot of the blue one, and doesn’t even react to the steam that blows out.

“I suppose,” Rhaenar says slowly and walks towards the blue dragon egg. “This one. The blue one.”

You grin and hum. “That’s a good one. I know it will be a beautiful dragon.”

Rhaenar blinks and looks up at you to meet your gaze. “Why do you ask?” He probes.

You peer back at the closed door and hear if anyone is approaching. When you hear no approaching footsteps you walk to him and begin to whisper so the guards won’t hear.

Alas, maybe you should have checked, because sometimes there are steps that aren’t heard echoing on the ground when someone wants to be discreet.

“Well…I recently discovered something…soon enough, in nine months or so, you will be a big brother.” You begin to fiddle with your rings and watch him lower his gaze as he thinks of what you said.

“A brother,” he whispers and hums before he lifts his gaze and slowly begins to smile before he wraps his arms around you.

You sigh in relief before you giggle and immediately return his embrace. “Does that make you happy?” You ask.

Rhaenar nods and pulls his head back to meets your gaze. “Yes! Yes! It means I finally won't have to be alone. And I can ride my dragon alongside my brother.”

You scoff. “My Sunspot, we don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet. Not until it’s born.”

Rhaenar shrugs. “It doesn’t matter! It means I will have someone to talk to.”

Hearing him not be disappointed over the news makes you happy. For so long he’s been the only child that you worried he’d take the news badly. Then he still doesn’t know who you’re with.

That’s what he realizes now too.

“And…” he lowers his voice as his smile begins to fade. “Who is the baby’s father? Is it Jon? Is that why you’re getting married?”

You smile softly and nod. “Yes. That’s one of the reasons.”

Rhaenar grins again and jumps back to look at the blue egg. “That’s good. I like Jon. He’s very nice.”

“Yes,” you agree, “he is, isn't he?”

“Can I show him the egg I chose for my brother?”

You roll your eyes and scoff at his insistence, but don’t correct him anymore. “Yes, you can.”

“And aunt Dany! I’m sure she’ll love to know—”

“No,” you snap and crouch down to grab his shoulder and turn him not face you. “You may not tell her or anyone else, not even any of the Stark’s. Jon will tell his family, I will tell ours when the time is right.”

Rhaenar goes serious and quickly nods in agreement. “Yes, mother.”

“Swear to me,” you insist. “Swear you won’t say a word. I’ll tell you when you can speak of it. Okay?”

The boy sighs and nods in comprehension.

“Good,” you sigh. “Now let’s go. There’s plenty to do, and people will come look for us.”

Alas, just as you walk out of the room you catch Jon approaching the room. When he spots the both of you he stops and faces you with a sad look on his face, as if he just received the most terrible news.

“What is it?” You ask right away as you approach him.

Jon lets out a sigh and mutters, “the dead are coming.”

——

“They’re coming. We have dragon glass and Valyrian steel. But there are too many of them. Far too many. Our enemy doesn’t tire. Doesn’t stop. Doesn’t feel….”

Perhaps illusion is what kept you thinking they’d somehow take months to get here, blinding illusion. But they’re here now. Only hours away. And with their arrival the plans to marry are foiled.

Which is probably something stupid to be angry over, but it was a beautiful desire.

“We can’t beat them in a straight fight,” Jon continues to say to those gathered around the table.

“So what can we do?” Jaime asks.

“The Night King made them all. They follow his command. If he falls…getting to him may be our best chance.”

You sigh and clasps your hands together to begin fiddling with your rings as you interject, “if that’s true, he’ll never expose himself.”

“Yes, he will,” Bran cuts in, making everyone look over at him by the fireplace. “He’ll come for me. He’s tried before, many times, with many Three-Eyed Ravens.”

Whatever that’s supposed to really mean.

“Why?” Sam asks what everyone is thinking. “What does he want?”

“An endless night,” Bran answers, creating chills down your spines. “He wants to erase this world, and I am it’s memory.”

You swallow thickly and begin to clench your hands to fists.

“That’s what death is, isn’t it?” Sam continues to say. “Forgetting.” He looks around the table, and you all slowly look at him. “Being forgotten. If we forget where we’ve been and what we’ve done, we’re not men anymore. Just animals. Your memories don’t come from books. Your stories aren’t just stories. If I wanted to erase the world of men, I'd start with you.”

He’s got a nice way with words you have to give him that.

Maybe that’s why he wants to be a maester.

“How will he find you?” Tyrion cuts in to ask Bran.

“His mark is on me,” Bran answers and lifts his sleeve to show off a red bruise formed as a handprint. “He always knows where I am.”

“We’ll put you in the crypt, where it’s safest,” Jon assures his brother.

Yet his brother rebuttals.

“No. We need to lure him into the open before his army destroys all…..”

You stop fidgeting and slowly look up at him….

There’s heavy sheets of snow on the ground, the sky is dark; in the middle stands a large weirwood tree, around it are skulls. Dead.

“In the Godswood,” you interject.

Bran might’ve not been in your dream, but this…this is what the dream means.

Bran and everyone looks over at you, and the boy nods.

“Yes,” he says, “exactly.”

“You want us to use him as bait?” Sansa snaps, grabbing your attention.

“We’re not leaving you out there,” Arya also chimes in.

“He won’t be,” Theon suddenly cuts in. “I’ll stay with him. With the Ironborn. I took this castle,” he says and looks at the boy. “Let me defend you now.”

Without a word Bran nods in agreement, and Theon does as well, bringing a silence that lets you continue to focus on the next plan.

“We’ll hold off the rest of them for as long as we can,” Ser Davos inputs.

“When the time comes,” Tyrion adds. “Ser Davos and I will be on the walls to give you the signal to light the trench.”

“Ser Davos is perfectly capable of waving a torch on his own,” Daenerys counters him. “You’ll be in the crypt.”

If it were up to you he could stay up and fight, he may be smart, but he hasn’t been so lately.

Regardless, Tyrion seems to find offense to Daenerys' command and awkwardly turns to face her to try and persuade her otherwise. “Your Grace, I have fought before, I can do it again. Alongside the men and women risking their lives.”

“There are thousands of them and only one of you,” Daenerys cuts him off. “You can’t fight as well as they can, but you can think better than any of them. You’re here because of your mind. If we survive, I’ll need it.”

“May I be with Ser Davos?” The young voice beside you interjects.

You scoff and look down at your son as he keeps his gaze fixed on the map. “No,” you quickly answer him. “No. You are the heir to Daenerys, and far too young, you’ll be in the crypts.”

The boy shoots you a narrowed look. “But mother, I am not a boy any more. I can help as well.”

You keep your mouth shut and just raise your eyebrows as you shoot him a pointed glare.

He parts his lips to argue, but as he watches your look he shuts his mouth and just huffs.

“I’m sure they will need you down at the crypts,” Jon tries to assure him, pulling your gaze to him. “Whatever happens, you can keep them safe. You and your dragon.”

Rhaenar keeps his eyes down and just sighs, “I suppose.”

You share a soft thankful look with Jon and lets gaze linger before he looks away.

“The dragons should give us an edge in the field,” Ser Davos breaks the tension between Jon and you.

Jon looks back at the table and interjects. “If they’re in the field, they’re not protecting Bran. We need to be near him. Not too near, or the Night King won’t come.” He exhales deeply. “But close enough to pursue him when he does.”

You hum in agreement, and Jon passes you a displeased look when you do.

“Dragonfire will stop him?” Arya asks and looks to Bran.

“I don’t know,” he mutters. “No one’s ever tried.”

Well that’s assuring.

“We’re all going to die,” the big ginger man, Tormund interjects bluntly, pulling your immediate attention. “But at least we’ll die together.”

You scoff in amusement, and muster a partial smile.

Yet as you do smile Daenerys passes you a judgemental look that makes you go serious.

“Let’s get some rest,” Jon says and ends the meeting, letting you grab Rhaenar’s shoulder to walk out with him, catching from the corner of your eye Jon following close behind.

Since the people are all walking out and following you both, you make sure to walk somewhere discreet, somewhere far from curious eyes and passersby to meet up.

Once you’re isolated Rhaenar breaks away from you and turns to face Jon with a grin.

“Jon!” He exclaims. “Guess what?!” He says with his eyes wide with excitement. “I picked a dragon egg for my brother.”

Jon eyebrows furrow as he retorts, “brother?” He scoffs. “What if it’s a girl?”

Rhaenar scoffs and brushes him off. “It will be a boy, I’m sure.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile.

“Well, we’ll see when the baby is born,” Jon counters him. “Won’t we?”

“Sure,” the boy shrugs him off again. “But will you want to see the egg I chose? Maybe after the battle is over?”

Jon smiles softly and nods. “Of course I would love to see it.”

Rhaenar smirks and steps away from Jon and you. “Now may I prepare for this battle? I have new armor I want to wear.”

You nod, and the boy runs off, leaving Jon and you alone. And right away he expresses that displeasure he felt before.

“Mayhaps you should go to the crypts too,” he suggests—no actually not, he's giving a discreet order.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you and the baby.”

You check if anyone is nearby, and when no one is you step towards him and fix the collar of his shirt as you meet his gaze. “Eraxis won’t fight unless I’m with her, and we need her out there. You need me out there. I can’t just sit back and listen to everyone risk their lives, I can’t sit and just let you risk your life. What if I lose you because I’m down there? What then?” You argue. “You’ll have me raise this child alone?”

“You’ll have Sansa, Arya,” Jon interjects with his gaze on yours as if that is meant to assure you. “The entire North. And you’ve done it before and you’ve done a great job.”

You shake your head and grab onto his jaw now. “The baby will need their father. I need you,” you snap softly.

Jon caresses your face and leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “Swear to me you’ll be careful,” he says.” The moment you see things go to shit you run the other way.”

You let out a deep sigh and nod, even if you really don’t intend to run. You just can’t argue all night.

“So…” you change the subject. “I suppose the wedding is off then?”

Jon scoffs and smirks softly. “It doesn’t have to be. I mean we probably won’t have a wedding night or a feast.”

You giggle. “No wedding night? Well then it’s a damn good thing we’ve had that already.” You grin and press a kiss on his lips, feeling him grab onto you tighter before he pulls back and faces you.

“If you want we can marry right now, I’ll gather my siblings. You can gather Rhaenar, and we can marry, if it’s what you want.” Jon suggests.

Marry amongst the chaos, moments before battle?

You may never have dreamt of a perfect wedding because the truth is you never expected to choose your suitor. When you met Jon, when you accepted his love and let yourself love, there was a picture in your mind, but now….

Now in the middle of this chaos, not knowing whether either of you will survive the night, the promise of forever under the eyes of the gods sounds like the sweetest bliss. Perhaps the only one you’ll ever feel.

“Okay,” you whisper with excitement. “I want to do it. Let’s do it.”

——

*LATER*

“Beautiful,” Sansa whispers and smooths out one more invisible wrinkle on your cream colored skirt. “Truly.”

You look away from your rings and meet her glimmering gaze. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Sansa studies you one more time, she takes her time to study the beautiful work of the skirt, the soft red flames designed to the bottom of the skirt, the long train that spread out over the floor, the small embroidered dragon on the bosom of the dress and the sun that it wraps around demonstrating two of the houses you’re a part of. She looks at your reflection, at the dragon wings embroidered on your back, and then looks back at your face.

“I’m sure you’ll give Jon a heart attack,” Sansa teases.

You smile softly. “If he doesn’t have one what’s the point?”

Sansa laughs softly and takes one step towards you and unhooks a wolf pin from her dress to pin it on a sleeve of your dress.

“There,” she says and presses it as she meets your gaze. “Now you’re ready.”

You look down at the silver wolf and feel your eyes sting.

“Why?” You whisper in disbelief. She’s shown not to like Daenerys for what she demands from Sansa, you are on Daenerys side, why is she so nice to you?

“Why what?” She queries.

You lift your gaze to meet hers. “Why be kind to me? I mean it seems that you don’t really like Daenerys, so why be nice to me.”

Sansa scoffs, “you were the first one to truly tell me you felt sorry,” she shares softly and holds your gaze. “Back in King’s Landing. Everyone else didn’t say a word, they hated my family, so they treated it as a victory. There were even some who said they were sorry but never meant it. Not you though, you were really sorry, perhaps the first one to be sorry for me. You were kind when I needed it the most. That’s why, because you are a good person.”

Your breath gets trapped in your throat at the sound of her sincerity, and more tears gloss over your eyes, real tears that really hurt your eyes not to let fall. She didn’t answer your question regarding Daenerys, and it seems she won’t so you leave it be and offer her a soft smile before you can’t help but wrap her in an embrace.

Sansa gets surprised, but after a small exhale she returns your hug and squeezes tight.

“Be good to my brother,” she whispers as she keeps you in her arms.

You scoff softly and nod. “I will, I swear. He’s…very special to me.”

Sansa pulls back and offers you one last smile. A knock then raps on the door, and you slightly stiffen hoping it won’t be anyone unwanted, but muster the courage to get the door; Seeing that it’s only Rhaenar.

“Come in,” you say and step back to not been seen in case anyone passes by.

“I’m ready,” he says and closes the door for you. “Are you…” he trails off as he lays his eyes on you and smiles a very sweet smile. “You look very beautiful mother.”

You grin brightly and feel your heart skip at his sweet comment. “Oh, why thank you, sweetling. And you look very dapper yourself in your armor.”

Rhaenar scoffs but can’t help his little smirk.

“Are you ready?” He then asks.

You let out a soft nervous sigh and nod. “I’m ready.” You look at Sansa over your shoulder and probe. “Are you sure they won’t see us?”

Sansa nods right away. “I’m sure,” she assures you. “But if anything, here,” she trails off and walks to a rack to grab a long cloak. “Just so you can feel assured.”

You take it from her and throw it on, making sure that every inch of the dress was covered in case you do run into someone that can’t know quite yet.

“Okay.” You say again, but for the final time. “I’m ready. Let’s not keep him waiting anymore.”

Rhaenar shoots you an excited smile, and Sansa is the first one to walk out, letting you and Rhaenar follow after her through more discreet halls that lead outside to the Godswood where Jon is waiting.

And luckily her path is short, you don’t run into anyone, but…now all you feel is your pounding heart, your spinning mind, and your nervous and shallow breaths when you step outside to the evening that slowly brought the night.

It seems that Eraxis can sense your high stressed, and excited emotions because she flies overhead and begins to circle the Godswood. If she could she’d probably land within the grounds, but she’s far too big to do so, so all she can do is circle from above and keep a watchful eye.

“Here,” Sansa sort of startles you as she comes to a stop just outside the entrance into the Godswood. “I can take the cloak now.”

You scoff softly, “right,” you whisper and slide it off your shoulders, filling the coldness nipping at your sleeveless arms.

“It’s okay, it will be okay,” Sansa assures you as she notices your emotions.

You meet her gaze and hum.

She smirks and steps back. “I’ll see you in there.”

You hum again and watch her disappear within the grounds of the woods. And once she is gone, once you make sure you won’t run into her you let out one last deep breath and expel all your nerves, after all Jon isn’t a stranger you’re suddenly matched with, you know him, you love him already, he’s the love your life…a comfort in the chaos…

You smile softly and glance up at Eraxis one last time before you meet Rhaenar’s gaze. “Ready?” You probe.

Your son offers you a sweeter smile and nods eagerly before he turns to face the Godswood, and then walks you inside.

The walk is not long or rushed, it’s calm. For what awaits everyone tonight, it’s all forgotten right now at this moment as you walk down the snowy path to the Heart Tree, as you see Jon there waiting in front of that red leaved Weirwood tree with his eyes soft and full of love the moment he sees you. There’s only peace, solace. No war, no Night King, no one else but you and him as you walk to him.

Once you do reach him, once you stand close you don’t feel nervous anymore, not even if you see his family, Theon, his friend Sam watching and his very pregnant…wife? Paramour? By his side. You feel at peace and excited, smug even when you see Jon catch his breath.

“Who comes before the Old Gods this evening?” You hear Arya ask, and finally notice that she had stepped forward.

“Y/N,” Rhaenar announces like he was told to say, “of the House Targaryen and House Martell. Whoms here to be wed. A woman grown, generous, true born, and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?”

You smile softly and watch Jon take a step forward, leaving his white wolfs side. “Jon, of House Stark,” he says, “Lord of Winterfell, and Warden of the North. Who gives her?” He asks as he keeps holding your gaze.

“Rhaenar,” your son shares happily. “Of House Targaryen. Heir to the Queen.”

“Princess Y/N,” Arya interjects. “Will you take this man?”

You take a step forward and grin brighter. “I take this man,” you agree without hesitation.

Jon lips tug wider as he gaze lingers for a moment longer as he takes your hand. You gently secure yours around his to walk closer to the Heart Tree and kneel before it.

You both then bow your heads as a token of submission, and join in prayer.

It’s not something you’re accustomed to but you only think of a simple prayer in hopes that his life nor the lives of the ones you care about get taken tonight, and that this baby within you is born healthy. That’s all.

After he’s done with his prayers he helps you to your feet and turns to face you with your hand secured in his. He caresses your face gently before he steps back to take off his fur cloak and walk behind you to carefully place it on your shoulders.

Supposedly what follows is him carrying you to the feast, but well that can’t happen tonight, so he stands before you and shares a lingering and enamored gaze before you close the gap to steal a sweet and deep kiss he quickly returns.

He cups your cheeks and deepens it more, making sure to savor what could be your last kiss ever. When he pulls back the few people that are gathered clap, and you remain in front of one another and press your foreheads against each other to cherish this moment. This blissful moment that is soon filled with the sound of Eraxis song, and Jon’s wolfs soft beautiful howl.

“I love you,” you murmur.

Jon smiles softly. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

You cup his jaw and caress his cheek one last time before you both pull away and face your families.

“Congratulations,” Sam is the first one to tell Jon as he walks to him and gives him a quick embrace.

Jon scoffs softly and pats his friends back. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sams paramour approaches you with a beaming grin and curtsy’s. “Congratulations, princess.”

You grin in amusement and offer her a thankful nod. “Thank you. You’re very sweet.”

The woman offers you one last smile before she steps away, letting Jon speak now.

“Thank you for attending, now I hope you all can keep your promise and keep the ceremony a secret until we can tell the Queen and everyone else.”

His family share a knowing look, and Arya is the one that speaks for her siblings. “Of course we will.”

Jon's eyes drift to Theon, and the man offers Jon a stiff but assuring nod. When he looks to Sam, he immediately nods and assures him too.

“I swear. We swear.”

Jon nods, and now the reality of what you’re going to face hits again. That beautiful short lived bliss wears off and doom and dread hits you harder than ever.

This might be the last time you ever see Rhaenar and Jon. This might be your last day.

“Jon,” you call out before you can leave the Godswood.

He looks over and stops in his tracks as you slow down to a stop.

Rhaenar catches you fall behind and looks back.

“It’s okay, go, get Helios and meet me in my chambers.”

The boy nods and begins to walk off, but Jon then stops him. “Wait.”

Rhaenar is caught off guard, but waits where he is and watches Jon approach him.

“I just want to wish you good fortune,” Jon says as he stops before the boy. “You’ll be down protecting people at the crypts so it’s my last time seeing you until the battle is over.” He hesitates but after a small breath he cups the back of the boy's head and offers him a gentle smile. “It’s okay to be afraid, remember?”

Rhaenar sighs shakily and nods in comprehension.

“I hope you make it,” Rhaenar tells Jon. “And kill that ice bastard.”

You and Jon chuckle as Rhaenar smiles.

“I will,” Jon assures the boy and pulls his hand back to step away. “Now go on, listen to your mother.”

Rhaenar steals a glance at you one more time before he walks off, letting Jon face you again.

“Will you tell me that it’s okay to be scared,” you whisper as he gets close to you. “I’m meant to be the face of bravery, I’m a princess, a dragon rider, I am meant to inspire people, but…I’m scared.

Jon offers you a sweet smile and grabs your fidgeting hands. “That means you’re not stupid,” he says and lifts your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles. “And people will understand your fear, we’re fighting the dead. As long as you fight, the people will follow.”

You lower your gaze and let out a soft shaky sigh. “Will you promise me that you’ll stay alive?” You ask for comfort.

Jon cups your cheeks and whispers, “I will try.” He then lowers his hand and rubs your belly. “By the way, you are breathtakingly beautiful.”

You grin shyly and meet his gaze. “Thank you,” you retort and lift your hand to cradle his cheek. “I’m glad that the truth didn’t change us.”

“I told you,” he sighs. “I won’t consider myself a Targaryen. Never.”

You begin to smirk. “Not even now that we’re married? You can be Jon Targaryen, husband to Y/N Targaryen.”

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” He quips with a partial grin.

You nod. “Very much.”

Jon grins and then steals one last lingering kiss from you, making your eyes instantly fill with tears.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips. “So much.”

You swallow thickly as you hold back your tears and reply, “I love you too.”

Jon pulls you in for one last lasting embrace before you break away and go your separate ways before the battle begins.

Now rather than wearing a wedding dress you have armor protecting your body. How sad is that?

Instead of a feast you’re holding your son tightly in your arms with tears welled in your eyes for what could be the last time. He usually complains that he’s getting too old to be treated like a child, but today as you wait for those horns to blow to announce the beginning of an end, he lets you cuddle with him. And his little orange hatchling nuzzles himself in between the both of you too

“Will you sing to me?” You ask Rhaenar quietly as you stroke his curly hair. “One more time.”

Rhaenar lets out a small breath before he begins to sing the song he loves in High Valyrian.

His voice quietly carries throughout the room, lolling his hatchling to sleep, blocking out the shouts from outside as people still worked, as they gathered. He had a way to make you forget for a moment the dread, and the violence that ensues.

For a moment there was peace as he sang the song. For a moment.

And then reality broke the short peace as horns were blown.

“You have your weapons right?” You ask as you both stand to your feet.

Rhaenar points to his dragon glass sword and pats his dragon glass daggers, and nods in confirmation. And you study his new shiny silver armor to check that everything was strapped and tight.

“Good,” you whisper and brush his bangs back.

“You?” He probes. “Do you have your weapons?”

You smirk and point to your double bladed dragon-glass spear by the door and pat your daggers, and nod in confirmation. “Yes I do.”

“Okay,” he sighs and walks out first, making sure to take Helios and grab his spear on the way out. You take yours too and walk him all the way to the crypts first, even if his guards were going to escort him and be with him until the battle was over.

Once again, he would’ve minded any other time, but not tonight. Tonight he hesitates to leave your side when you do reach the crypts. He looks down at the torch lit pathway and lets out a deep sigh before he turns to throw his arms around you.

“I love you, mama,” he mutters.

You laugh softly and hug him back tighter. “I love you too, my sweet boy.” You put on a brave face so he won’t feel as afraid and pull back to take in his beautiful tan face, his sweet brown eyes, his dark curly black hair, and his sweet brave smile before you press a kiss on his forehead and linger there for a moment longer. “Take care, swear to me.”

Rhaenar pulls back and offers you an assuring nod as a tear rolls down his cheek. “I swear,” he murmurs. “And you take care too. And keep my little brother safe.”

You chuckle breathlessly and nod as you step back before you stay down there with him to make sure he makes it throughout the night. “I love you my sweet boy.” You tell him one last time and wave before you turn around and head for Eraxis.

And luckily on your way out you run into Daenerys and Jon going to the same place. However, the moment Daenerys sees you she looks at you up and down before striding away faster.

You quickly look to Jon to ask what happened in a speechless manner, and all he does is sigh deeply and frown, letting you know that her reaction wasn’t due to anything good.

He probably told her about his parents, who he is.

Why couldn’t he wait if there is a tomorrow? At least then things wouldn’t be so tension filled at the moment of battle.

However, once you’re on Eraxis’s back flying over the armies formed in front of the castle, that anger you knew she held, that tension, none of it mattered. It all ceases to matter. Especially when you land on the snowy hill that overlooks it all; the castle, the armies that await for the dead, especially when all you hear is nothing but a dreadful silence.

All that matters is the dead, and you.

Even if you can’t see them below due to the darkness that envelopes the land, you know that now nothing stands between you and them. It was now or never, this fight.

You try to pump yourself with hope and desperation to win this fight. As flames light the Dothraki’s weapons below, that hope only grows.

Alas, when the Dothraki ride forward and every single flame gets snuffed out that burning hope falters. Once there’s darkness again, you’re rattled, more afraid. Yet anger also begins to take root.

That same anger is something Daenerys displays right away without a fault when she sees her people dying. And when she tries to act on it and get on her dragon to join the battle Jon stops her.

“The Night King is coming,” he tells her as he grabs her arm, making you narrow your gaze as you can’t help your jealousy from sprouting.

“The dead are already here,” Daenerys snaps back and yanks her arm away to turn away. She meets your gaze briefly but doesn’t add anything and continues towards Drogon.

Once her back is turned Jon and you meet each others gazes and share one last lingering and longing look before you climb on Eraxis.

You proceed to strap yourself on to secure yourself on your saddle, and then pat your dragon's neck for comfort as the wind brings the sound of the dead’s growl and groans the closer they get to the castle.

Now there’s no escaping them. They’re here, and you’re ready.

“<Fly,>” you order Eraxis.

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A/N- Daenerys knows who Jon is, imagine when she finds out her niece is pregnant with his baby, and that they got married in secret 😗🫣 dance of dragons 2? 😗

Tagged: @watercolorskyy @jessimay89 @cecespizza01 @theroyalbrownbarbie @crybabyatthediscooffandoms @neenieweenie @midnightpantherxo

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones #got #got s8 #got fanfiction #got fanfic #jon snow #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow fanfiction #jon snow x y/n #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #jon snow x fem!reader #sansa stark #daenerys targaryen #game of thrones fanfic #jaime lannister #bran #arya strak

[damn-stark]

Don’t fret my Sandstorm readers, I’ll upload the next chapter after I finish Cherry, which shouldn’t be long considering I’ll upload 2 chapters before going on hiatus AGAIN!

Anyway…in the meantime look at all the fashion references I used for what y/n wears, it’s been such a fun part of the story for me to write, I love incorporating it! Makes it feel more real! And adds depth!

First time we meet Jon Snow! Like sheesh no wonder he fell in love at first sight

I took some inspo from this lovely design for the wedding dress! I love love it all! Of course in the book some features are different but loved it!

Arriving at Winterfell for the first time!

One of my favorites is this one! I used this when we had that meeting with Cersei at the old Dragon pit! So elegant yet so simple!

And i took inspo from this for the dress Sansa designed for y/n! One of my other favorites!

There’s so many others I have on Pinterest and my notes I have for mental reference and when I need to incoprate outfits in the chapters! LMK if you want to see some others!

#fanfiction #damn-stark #sandstorm #jon snow x targaryen!femreader #jon snow x fem!reader #jon snow fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #fashion

[damn-stark]

Regardless if my new fic Sandstorm turns out to be successful or not, I’ll be writing and posting for that until Season 3 of The Mandalorian comes out so I can continue with my series on that show! I WILL REWRITE THAT SERIES, but not until February!

So till then I’ll write for Sandstorm! Ill upload the summary and masterlist tomorrow hopefully, until then have this…

#fanfiction #damn-stark #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #gameofthronesfanfiction #Jon snow x fem!reader #Jon snow x Targaryen!femreader #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #Jon snow x Targaryen!reader #jon snow fanfiction #Jon snow fanfic #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #damn stark #edit #my tik tok