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I.
Daenerys thought that her heart was breaking. She could hear it, ripping apart in her chest as she clutched Grey Worm to her. His blood stained her clothes and the metallic smell of it mixed with the smell of smoke and rotting bodies all around her.
She doesn’t know how long it took for Jorah to find her. She distantly heard his shouts of her name in the distance, but she couldn’t tear her eyes from the face of her commander, her savior, her friend .
“Khaleesi.” His voice was rough but so familiar she almost started sobbing all over again. “Khaleesi, you need to let go.”
She hadn’t even noticed the Unsullied that had gathered around her, gently trying to pry Grey Worm away from their queen. Jorah’s hand found her shoulder and only then was she able to step away from the body.
The way back to Winterfell was a blur of bodies. Some were alive and bowed to her as she passed. Most were dead on the ground. The only person she could focus on was Jorah, who stayed next to her the entire time, encouraging her with small looks and gentle touches.
Entering the walls of Winterfell brings her face to face with the remains of her Khalasar, who jump to their feet at the sight of her. For a moment, she feared that they would attack her, since she had ordered so many of them to their deaths, but instead they began their wild cheering. Cries of ‘Khaleesi!’ took over the yard and she tried to keep herself together.
“ The Mother of Dragons has been victorious! ” Jorah called out in Dothrak. “ But our war is not over. The Khaleesi and her bloodriders must rest for fights to come! ”
The Dothraki let out more cheers and cries at that, lifting their weapons and banging their chests. The people of Winterfell looked terrified and for a second, the emptiness inside her was replaced with anger. The Dothraki had just fought and died for the people of Westeros and they still refused to see them as anything other than barbarians.
They thought Grey Worm was a barbarian.
The thought left her shaking even harder than before.
II.
Jorah stood by her as Jon Snow gave the eulogy for the fallen. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel his presence behind her, giving her the ability to stand tall. Missandei stood over Grey Worm, who laid still on the pyre and it took everything Dany had not to turn and run.
Losing Grey Worm was hard. Watching Missandei mourn was harder. And despite Jorah’s gentle reassurances, she felt like she had been the one to cause her friend so much pain. Afterall, it was Daenerys Stormborn that had freed the Unsullied and it was Daenerys that had led them across the Narrow Sea. Then she ordered them to fight against death itself. How could it not be her fault?
Daenerys took the torch handed to her, not even bothering to look at who had lit it. She took slow strides towards the pyre, dimly aware of the others doing the same. She passed Missandei, who still had tears moving down her face, and she paused over Grey Worm.
He was surrounded by the other Unsullied who had died in the battle but the thought didn’t make her feel any better. She led them to their deaths in order to protect people who still hated them.
Before she lowered her torch, she leaned in and whispered final “Thank you” to the man who had given her so much.
III.
Jorah sat next to her during the celebration. Jon was at her other side but seemed determined not to talk about the discovery of his family. The distance between their two chairs seemed enormous. She was content to sit in silence and watch the feast progress around her, but movement from a man drew her attention.
“Gendry.” Her voice quieted the hall. Jon shifted next to her. “That’s right, isn’t it?”
Gendry had stopped when his name was called. He faced Daenerys, trying but failing to hide the apprehension on his face.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“You’re Robert Baratheon’s son.”
“You are aware he took my family's throne and tried to have me murdered?” Now the hall was completely silent. No one was sure what she would do. She could practically feel their minds jump to the Mad King. Eyes stared at her, the eyes of Sansa’s felt particularly accusing.
“I didn’t even know he was my father until after he was dead.”
Daenerys almost opened her mouth to comment on the state of Storm’s End, but faltered for a moment at his words. She could feel Jorah’s eyes on her and a memory of him and Barristan Selmy surfaced. Back in the days before Westeros when no one knew of her father beyond her closest advisors.
“I did not know the truth about my father until well after my own brother’s death,” she said. The words felt heavy as she spoke them but she felt the need to explain to these people that she and her armies were not the bringers of violence they were seen as.
“My brother told me that the Usurper was spreading lies about my father and his state of mind. He told me all of the rumors I heard in Essos were not true and that the people of Westeros would welcome us back with open arms.
“It was not until I met Ser Jorah Mormont and Ser Barristan Selmy that I learned who my father really was. I know the Mad King earned his name. I hope, Gendry, that we will be able to reverse the paths our father’s paved so long ago. How wonderful would it be for the Seven Kingdoms to be rebuilt with House Targaryen and House Baratheon as allies?”
Gendry looked stunned. “But- Your Grace, I am no Baratheon. I’m a bastard.”
Dany let a small smile slip onto her face. “No, you are Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End, the lawful son of Robert Baratheon. Because that is what I have made you.”
Jorah stood up, raising a glass to Gendry. “To Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End.”
The rest of the hall took up the chant and the man in question looked torn between being dumbstruck and ridiculously happy. People stood up to congratulate him but both Tyrion and Sansa looked rather unhappy with the turn of events. A shot of pain went through Dany as she met Sansa’s eyes. It felt as though every decision she made was the wrong one to the Stark and she feared that her influence would rub off on Tyrion.
“You are a true queen tonight,” Jorah leaned over to whisper to her. His blue eyes looked concerned, as if he picked up on her thoughts. “Do not let other people’s bitterness take away from your triumph.”
Dany pushed another small smile onto her face. “What would I do without you?” She asked him, fondly.
Missandei excused herself from the feast shortly after the legitimization of Gendry. Jon stayed in his seat next to Daenerys, but was being goaded into drinking more than he should by Sansa and Tormund. Tyrion had found a seat next to his brother and Brienne of Tarth. The only person in the room that still seemed to seek out her company was Jorah.
“They say Robert Baratheon kept the skulls of the dragons of your ancestors beneath the Red Keep. They might still be there,” he said. He seemed determined to provide Dany with a list of things she should look forward to.
“I would like to see that,” she admitted. “If we hadn’t burned Viserion, I would have liked him to be laid to rest with other dragons.” Jorah reached out and laid a rough hand over her own folded ones.
“You will not have to mourn anymore of your children. I promise.”
Their quiet moment was interrupted by a very drunk Tormund shouting at the group of people gathered around Jon. They were all laughing and Jon’s face was very red, either from too much ale or too much praise.
“He climbed on a fucking dragon and fought. What kind of person climbs on a fucking dragon? A madman or a king!”
“Perhaps you forgot that you fought under the leadership of the Dragon Queen?” Jorah called back, loudly. The group surrounding Jon turned to face him, all too drunk to pick up on the quiet challenge in his words.
But Tormund’s face suddenly broke into a grin and he began laughing again.
“Aye, but we expect Targaryens to perform such feats. Our expectations are lower for
scrawny crows!”
Dany appreciated Jorah, but she once again felt eyes on her during the affair. She wasn’t surprised when she realized it was Varys, whose face showed a muted concern. He had been watching her during most of the evening, even while Tyrion celebrated with his friends. But Varys never approached her, never tried to bring her into a conversation. Instead, he watched her as she was ignored and left alone.
He wanted to see how she would respond .
Suddenly Varys felt much less like an ally and more like Sansa. A person watching her constantly, waiting for a mistake to be made, but never willing to lend a hand.
IV.
Jon rejecting her plea for secrecy destroyed something inside Daenerys. She was a conqueror and yet she had sunk so low as to beg in front of a man who, in every interpretation of the word, was her family.
The shaking had returned. Maybe she had been shaking ever since Grey Worm had died in her arms. She felt like the little girl in a flimsy dress, waiting to be sold out to further another man’s ambition. She closed the door to her private chambers just in time to collapse on the ground, every inch of her body shaking in a violent, uncontrollable manner. Her breathing turned into harried pants as she tried to force air down a throat that seemed to be closing up.
She was choking. Drowning . The weight of Winterfell would bury her and others would take all her accomplishments as their own.
“Dany!”
She hadn’t even realized that there had been someone else in the room. She also hadn’t realized that her pants had turned to sobs. Strong arms surrounded her, pulling her off the floor and against a broad, familiar chest.
“You’re okay,” Jorah whispered in her ear. “You are safe. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
“H-he’s going to destroy me!” Dany choked out. She knew Jorah didn’t understand any of the context but her brain was too numb to recount the recent events. “He chose the Starks over me , over us . And he doesn’t care if it ends up killing me!”
Jorah’s arms tightened around her. “As long as I am with you, Khaleesi, I promise that you will not die.” He tilted his head back in order to meet her tear stained face. “I do not understand everything you are saying, but I promise you that if anyone means to harm you, they will have to go through me first.”
His words seemed to calm Dany down enough for her to start pulling herself together. She pulled away from him and cautiously stood up from the cold floor. Jorah stood as well and for a moment, Dany wished he would hold her again. It was one of the rare times she actually felt safe. Jon had made her feel wanted. He made her feel worthy and powerful but young and unsure all at the same time.
But Jorah made her feel at home. He had been there at the very beginning of her journey and barely strayed from her side since. He was strong and dependable and she believed him when he promised to keep her safe. Jorah knew her in a way no one else was capable of, as he had seen everything that made Daenerys who she was.
Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.
The Unburnt.
Breaker of Chains.
Mother of Dragons.
He had been there for all of that and no one else could say that. Not even Missandei or Grey Worm. And certainly not Jon Snow. If Jorah believed her to be worthy of the throne of her ancestors, then he must be right. He was the only person who knew her well enough to make that call.
Dany moved slowly to her bed and sat on the end of it. Jorah seemed unsure of what to do, feeling out of place in the aftermath of her breakdown.
“If there is anything else I can do, My Queen,” he started, but trailed off. Violet eyes met his own.
“Stay,” she heard herself say, feeling as though her body was not her own. “Please stay with me.” She hated sounding weak but if he left, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to sleep. His presence seemed to keep the walls of the castle from closing in on her.
“Of course, Daenerys.” She didn’t bother to correct him on using her name.
She watched as he settled in on one of the chairs in the room, positioned so he could see both her and the door. She could feel his eyes on her as she stripped down into her shift and for a moment, she felt horrible. Because if he had been Jon, she would have had no problem revealing herself to him. She couldn’t make herself see Jorah the way he wanted her to. The way she saw Jon. But Jorah stayed regardless. And he did not try to take advantage of her or bring up his feelings.
Dany fell asleep that night listening to the quiet breathing of Jorah, watching over her.
V.
Dany watched miserably as more and more of her pieces were removed from the map of Westeros laid out in front of her. The balance of troops between her and Cersei was far too even for her liking. Without careful and quick planning, the kingdoms could face another long, devastating war.
“When the people find out what we have done for them, that we saved them-” Missandei protested. Dany had tried to persuade her from coming to the war room, but she had insisted, claiming that the planning distracted her from her grief.
“Cersei will make sure they don't believe it. We will hit her hard. We will rip her out root and stem.” The Targaryen queen didn’t miss the look Varys shot Tyrion and emotion threatened to overtake her again. She couldn’t understand why it was so wrong for her to wish ill upon the people trying to destroy her.
“The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying King's Landing,” Tyrion insisted. Jorah seemed to pick up on his queen’s growing aggravation.
“Do you have a particular plan in mind, Lord Tyrion?” Jorah asked.
“I watched the people of King's Landing rebel against their king when they were hungry, and that was before winter began. Give them the opportunity and they will cast Cersei aside.”
“But surely starving out a city is just as bad as laying siege to it? If our goal is to save innocent lives, then we should try to take King’s Landing as quickly as possible. Our troops can surround the city walls and capture the attention of her forces while Queen Daenerys takes her dragons directly to the Red Keep.”
“How will the people of King’s Landing feel,” Sansa interrupted, “Watching two dragons burn down their city?” Her face remained impassive but the tone clearly was an attempt to get a rise out of Dany. She tried hard not to take the bait.
“If two dragons free them from the rule of a tyrant, I imagine they would be rather welcoming,” she fired back. Jon shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable, but Dany couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact with him.
“Our focus should be on overthrowing Cersei while maintaining the integrity of the city proper,” Varys added.
“What about the Iron Fleet?” Jon finally spoke up.
“I still have two dragons,” Daenerys said, letting her voice adapt a steely tone. “I can burn Cersei and you can burn the Fleet.” She finally met his eyes and could see how uncomfortable he seemed with the idea. It was strange to her that the son of Rhaegar Targaryen would be so against the idea of riding a dragon into battle.
A silence stretched over the war room for a moment before Sansa decided to speak again.
“The men we have left are exhausted. Many of them are wounded. They'll fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate.”
“How long do you suggest?” Daenerys asked. The shakiness she had felt the past few days seemed to be intensifying again, but instead of being rooted in grief, this bout seemed to be rooted in anger. In fear .
“I can't say for certain, not without talking to the officers.”
“I came north to fight alongside you at great cost to my armies and myself. Now that the time has come to reciprocate, you want to postpone.” She clenched her fists and tried to remember why it was important to be polite to Sansa.
“It's not just our people. It's yours. You want to throw them into a war they're not ready to fight?”
“I fear that postponing our trip south would result in our armies having to winter here in the North,” Jorah cut in. “Even now, travelling overland is no easy feat with the snow and the storms. I remember hearing you were concerned about feeding everyone so moving to King’s Landing may be in all of our interests.”
His calm voice took control of the situation and Dany found herself feeling more anchored. Sansa’s face had turned red at Jorah’s words but she didn’t say anything to support or refute them. Arya, who was standing next to her sister, crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Dany. As usual, Jon was oblivious to their reactions.
“The Northern forces will honor their promises and their allegiance to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms,” he insisted. Any remaining fire Dany felt inside of her flickered out as he said that.
“So if all are in agreement,” Tyrion said, “Jon and Ser Davos will ride down the Kingsroad with the Northern troops and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied. A smaller group of us will ride to White Harbor, and sail from there to Dragonstone with our queen and her dragons accompanying us from above.”
VI.
Jorah insisted on Missandei and Daenerys accompanying him outside of the walls of Winterfell. He refused to tell either woman what he had planned but advised them to dress warmly. He claimed he had to show them something before they journeyed south.
Missandei dressed in all black while Dany donned her white and red coat. It was the warmest thing she owned and she was beginning to think of asking her handmaids to sew more red accents onto her darker clothes as well. If the people of Westeros insisted on calling her the Dragon Queen, she might as well look the part.
The two women walked out of the walls without any problem. Most people had no reason to leave the walls and no one seemed inclined to cross their paths. It had snowed since the battle and even the areas that had been scorched by dragon fire were now white and frozen. There was a stillness in the air that Dany had never experienced before coming north. Essos didn’t have winters as terrible as the Seven Kingdoms did and both she and Missandei had spent most of their time living in warm climates.
Even the sorrow that had lingered to Missandei’s face abated for a moment as they took in their surroundings. Without thinking, Dany reached out and took her gloved hand, giving it a slight squeeze.
“It’s about time you got out here!” Jorah appeared, coming from off the path that had been cleared by soldiers. He waded through the snow in his own bundle of clothing. His cheeks were a rudy pink from the cold and he was smiling.
“We are ladies,” Dany teased back. “It takes us longer to get dressed.”
“I wanted to show both of you what I used to do during winter, when I was a child.”
“Alright then,” Dany said, feeling even more curious. “Let’s see.”
Jorah led them to a part of the clearing that had yet to be touched by human prints and kneeled in the snow. Without any explanation, he took a handful of snow and began packing it together. Once it turned into a sphere, he began rolling it along the ground, letting it gather more snow and grow larger. Then he repeated the act two more times, with each ball of snow becoming smaller. When all that was done, he stacked them on top of each other, pulled out two sticks from the folds of his coat and stuck them into the middle ball. Missandei caught on first.
“It’s a person!” She sounded both awed and incredulous.
“Indeed,” Jorah replied, grinning at them. “I used to make entire armies out of snow with the other children on Bear Island. We’d build forts and castles as well.” Dany’s face split into a grin.
“I want to have a try at it,” she announced.
Jorah spent two hours teaching them how to make snow people. Missandei clearly had a talent for it, gentle hands sculpting faces onto the piles of snow. Dany’s snow people looked much more like the offspring of a wight and a bear, as Jorah pointed out. Missandei ended up collapsing into her snow person, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face.
The three of them trudged back inside Winterfell as the sun began to make its descent. Despite being wet, cold, and tired, Dany would have spent the entire night outside if it meant hearing Missandei laugh like that again.
Jorah retired to his rooms, but Dany had her handmaid draw a warm bath for herself and Missandei. Afterwards, they sat in Dany’s bed and Missandei braided her hair in small, tight braids that twisted together into a longer one. They both sat in silence, enjoying the memory of their afternoon. They might have stayed like that for the rest of the night if it hadn’t been for the question that weighed on Dany’s mind.
“What will you do after I have the throne?” She asked Missandei, turning on the bed to face her friend. She didn’t respond for a moment, looking down at her hands.
“If it is alright,” she began and Dany’s heart clenched in fear. “I know I will not be as useful in King’s Landing, but I would still like to remain at your side as your servant or advisor. I do not mind what position you give me, but I cannot imagine a future for me without you.”
Dany slowly exhaled at that, feeling relief crashing over her. She knew that Missandei and Grey Worm had been talking about a future together. She assumed that they would travel to Naath or maybe go back to Essos. But ever since Jon had started pushing her away, she began to fear that others would do that same. Afterall, almost everyone she had travelled north with had made it clear that they had other people they would prefer to be with.
Except Jorah.
And now Missandei.
“It would be my greatest honor to be able to have you at my side,” Dany said, solemnly. She reached out to take Missandei’s hand in her own. “You are one of my most valued friends and advisors. I couldn’t rule without you.”
A look of relief spread across Missandei’s face and she squeezed Dany’s hand, trying to communicate how much she appreciated the words. At that moment, Dany almost confessed everything to her. Everything about Jon and their relationship and their blood relationship and the fear and panic that had been growing inside her ever since she had stepped foot inside the wretched castle.
But she couldn’t bring herself to add more trouble to her friend’s life. Not at that moment. She swallowed back her words and let Missandei be happy.
VII.
When Daenarys landed on Dragonstone, the shaking returned. They had been ambushed. And Rhaegal was dead. Her body could barely climb off of Drogon; her arms shook and her legs refused to listen to her. Her breaths came in short stabs and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to scream or sob. When her feet finally hit the sands of the island, she collapsed onto her knees, feeling as though she might never rise again.
“Khaleesi!” Jorah’s voice cut through the fog in her mind. He was running up from the shore line, heading directly towards her. The remainder of her fleet was staggering ashore as well. Tyrion and Varys lay gasping in the sand while Missandei waded out of the water. It appeared as though Jorah had been helping her ashore when he spotted Danaerys land.
“Are you alright?” Jorah grasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes, trying to gage what was occurring behind them.
“You promised.” Her voice was ragged and she felt out of control. “You promised I wouldn’t watch anymore of my children die.”
Jorah didn’t respond; he simply pulled her into his arms and held her.
VIII.
Dany doesn’t want to be in a war council. She doesn’t want to listen to Varys and Tyrion, doesn’t want to see them make faces at each other when they thought she wasn’t looking. She knew their opinions of her were changing. Jorah had expressed his concerns about it to her in private and now she could see it in every interaction.
“Your Grace,” Varys spoke up, “I promised you I would look you in the eye and speak directly if I ever thought you were making a mistake. This is a mistake.”
Dany didn’t answer. Her face remained blank and she could feel the annoyance radiating off Grey Worm and Jorah for how she was being treated. Tyrion had lit up an entire navy with wildfire. Both men had willingly partaken in war for several kings and queens in their lifetime and yet they seemed to hold her to an entirely different standard.
“How would you like me to take King’s Landing?” Dany asked, voice barely more than a whisper.
“Demand Cersei surrender,” Tyrion offered. “Offer her her life in exchange for the throne. If there's a chance to avoid the coming slaughter, we should make the effort.”
“And when she refuses to make peace?”
“We do not know what Cersei will do.”
Dany let out a strangled laugh. “She shot down my dragon. She has spent time amassing armies around King’s Landing. She knows where we are and yet does not make any kind of attempt to surrender or offer a deal. Asking politely for the Throne will not change her mind, it will simply make her feel superior.”
“My queen,” Varys said, “I fear the senseless death that could come from not exploring all possibilities of taking the throne.”
“Did Robert Baratheon explore peaceful solutions to his revolt?” Dany’s tone turned cold and her eyes locked with her advisors. “Did Lord Tyrion explore them before setting Stannis’ fleet ablaze? Did Aegon the Conqueror ask politely for kingdoms to swear fealty?”
“Those are entirely different situations!” Tyrion said, defensively. “Besides, you are here to break the wheel, not continue this cycle of violence.”
“If you wanted to pledge yourselves to a pacifist,” Dany hissed, “then maybe you should have found a ruler whose words are not ‘fire and blood’.”
IX.
Dany refused to speak with Cersei. There was no reason to and, if she was being honest with herself, it unnerved her how much trouble her advisors were going through in order to convince her not to go to war. They had gone to war before. And anyone else would have to go to war in order to win the throne from Cersei. Even Jon would have to get blood on his hands if he wanted the throne.
Which he claimed he did not.
“Khaleesi?” Jorah called from the doorway. She was sitting in a chair in her chambers, looking out over the sea. An uneaten plate of food sat in front of her.
“Enter,” she replied and the knight did. He stood beside her, taking in the view of the night sky and the dark waters. They stayed in a friendly silence for a few moments, enjoying the peace before the politics.
“I am afraid for you,” Jorah finally said.
“You are always afraid for me,” Dany remarked. Jorah didn’t smile.
“But now I am afraid that you are surrounded by more enemies than friends. I am not sure if I trust Varys and Tyrion anymore. There have been whispers…” He trailed off, pointedly not meeting her eyes.
“That Jon Snow is the rightful king,” Dany finished for him. She leaned back in her chair, practically slouching. The plate of food still sat in front of her, but she hadn’t had an appetite in days. And despite being thought paranoid by her Lord Hand, she had legitimate reasons to fear for her life, now more than ever.
“Jon Snow is a bastard,” Jorah argued back. “Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows that.”
“Jon Snow is the son of my brother, Rhaegar, and Lyanna Stark. According to Lord Tarly and Brandon Stark, they had a secret wedding and Jon was born after my brother died on the Trident.”
“You knew this and you didn’t take any precautions?” Jorah’s voice raised in both volume and pitch. “If we don’t address these claims, you might face even more people scheming against you!”
“Don’t you think I know that!” Dany flew onto her feet, knocking the plate aside. “Varys and Tyrion have been plotting to have me replaced since we left Winterfell. Jon told his sisters and I am certain Sansa is planning to put Jon on the throne and claim the North for herself.”
She began pacing the room, in front of the fireplace. Her hands wrung together and her hair whipped back and forth as she turned.
“Ever since I first landed on Dragon Stone I have had people whispering in my ear, trying to convince me to not take the throne. And I listened to them for so long that they’ve run out of reasons. So now they will all betray me in favor of Jon Snow, who doesn’t want to rule and doesn’t even want to remain in the South.”
She turned around at the end of her room, intent on pacing the length back, but she ran into Jorah’s chest. His hands reached out and touched her shoulders, not pinning her in place, but offering her an anchor. His bright eyes made contact with hers, and with a start, Dany realized she was crying.
“It is going to be okay,” he said.
“What am I going to do?” Dany whispered, voice breaking at the end. Jorah released her and a look of thoughtfulness came over his face.
“I believe we have a few options. You could arrest Jon for treason when he arrives, and either keep him in custody or kill him. You could refute the claim Jon has and continue to uphold the narrative that he is a bastard. After all, he has no real proof.
“You could also marry him. You two clearly have feelings for each other and marriage would mean that if one of you has power, then both of you do.”
“He could barely look at me after he found out about our relationship,” Dany replied. She had thought about this solution so many times. Imagining a wedding where she wasn’t frightened. She could see the benefits of ruling alongside an equal, of being able to share her burdens with family. But any hopes she had had were dashed the night after the celebration at Winterfell.
“Aunts and nephews marrying is not unheard of. Most of your ancestors married family members, and many married siblings. Even the North has marriages between cousins.”
Dany sat down on the edge of her bed, saying nothing. She cared deeply for Jorah, but couldn’t explain everything in her relationship with Jon. So much of what had happened between them had never been told to Jorah, and Dany wasn’t sure if she wanted to involve the man, considering his feelings for her.
Jorah seemed to pick up on her emotions and her uncertainty. He kneeled down at her feet and Dany flashed back to all the times he had kneeled in front of her, all the times he swore for her, vowed to fight for her.
“Daenerys. I have been beside you since the beginning. And I did not stay solely because of your claim. I stayed because you are just. And you always search out the vulnerable and the weak. You put off your quest for the Iron Throne to keep your people from falling back into slavery. You are stronger than anyone I have ever met.
“Why do you think you people followed you from Essos? Why the Unsullied were willing to fight to the death for you? Why the Dothraki crossed the Narrow Sea for you? It’s not because of your claim. It’s because of who you are.”
Dany forced out a watery smile and slid off her bed. She knelt on the floor and let Jorah hold her again, taking comfort from him like a child being held by a parent.
Dany sat on her throne when Tyrion and Jon Snow arrived back on Dragonstone. Tyrion had arrived before Jon, but she kept the both of them waiting. Jorah stood next to her and Missandei next to him. On her other side, stood Hero, her new Unsullied commander. It hurt, replacing Grey Worm, but she had no choice. She needed a commander and he had been the next in line.
Jon entered the room, flanked by both Varys and Tyrion. The look on Varys’ face revealed his uncertainty and Tyrion kept stealing glances at Jon and Varys. Dany knew that they had been talking about her, and she had a good idea what they had said.
“Lord Tyrion,” she called out, voice echoing in the chamber. “How was the meeting with Cersei?”
“I am afraid we failed to come to an agreement,” Tyrion admitted. “She had some of the Unsullied in her custody from the attack on our ships and she… she had them executed.”
Dany didn’t respond, simply choosing to raise an eyebrow. She knew what she looked like on her throne. Her hair done in elaborate braids and surrounded by her closet allies. She felt stronger with Jorah and Missandei by her side. And despite no longer having Grey Worm, she knew that by liberating the people of Westeros, she would honor his memory. She would give her people the freedom that she had given the Unsullied so long ago. These thoughts gave her strength and she sat taller in her seat.
“Your Grace,” Varys started. “I understand that the situation with Cersei is a pressing matter, but we need to protect the innocents of King’s Landing. We need to show them that we are here to save them.”
“I agree, Lord Varys,” Dany said. “That is why I will refuse to starve them. I will not let the poor die while Cersei takes their remaining food and refuses to surrender. I will take the Red Keep and we will destroy the Iron Fleet and the Golden Company. My war is not with the people, but with the tyrants that have ruled this land for so long.”
At that, Dany stood up and began to descend the throne. She looked every bit the Targaryen today in a black dress with red accents. She caught Varys’ eyes flicker towards the broch she wore of the three headed dragon.
“A battle will result in the deaths of innocents. Innocent people who are already afraid of Cersei and her own armies. We know what she had been saying about you, the rumors that have reached the ears of the public,” Varys continued. “It is important that we prove them wrong.”
“What kind of rumors?” Dany continued her slow descent towards the men in front of her. “That I am like my father? That I will burn them all in their beds? What is the saying, Jorah?” She didn’t bother to glance back at her advisor. “When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin?”
“That is what they say, Khaleesi.”
“So tell me, Lord Varys, Lord Tyrion, if these are the rumors Cersei is spreading, why do you believe them?”
Silence hung over the room. Tyrion’s jaw hung open while Varys made an attempt to appear more put together. Jon just looked unnerved. For a moment, Dany felt her heart break again. She knew he had betrayed her, had told Sansa who had in turn told Tyrion. All her enemies spread the same lies but she had yet to have her allies believe them so readily.
“Your Grace,” Varys began but Dany cut him off.
“You have all been undermining me since Winterfell,” she hissed, “all because of rumors, old sayings, and the fact that I felt grief over the loss of my friend and my people. Jon revealed the truth of his heritage to Sansa despite my requests and she immediately began sowing seeds of doubt amongst my advisors. I know about the poison in my food, Varys, and I know about your attempts to warn the noble houses of Jon’s heritage.”
She let the words hang in the air. Jon had turned very, very pale. Tyrion seemed shocked that Varys had committed such treason, but Dany felt little pity for him. He should have known what was coming. Varys tried to speak up and defend himself, but Dany found that she was very tired of listening to men.
“So before I take the Iron Throne, I am going to fix this situation. Lord Tyrion, you had promised to never fail me again. But you have known about conspiracies against me and have routinely given me bad advice. For this, I am demoting you to my master of coin. Jorah shall become my Hand. And if you continue to fail me, I will not be as forgiving.
“Lord Varys, I once told you that if you ever betrayed me, I would burn you alive. I am a woman of my word. You will be taken into custody and tried for your crimes against your Queen. If found guilty, which there is no reason to assume you won’t be, I will have you executed by fire.
“And Jon Snow,” she turned to him, taking her eyes off the shocked expressions on Tyrion and Varys’ faces. She hadn’t wanted to look at Jon, didn’t want to see any kind of anger or hatred in his eyes, but all she saw was a confused, scared boy. When his eyes met hers, she felt like a young girl again, who just wanted to go home.
“Jon Snow, your people declared you the King in the North and I have no doubt your sisters are trying to get some sort of crown on your head.”
“Daenerys, I do not want to be king,” he protested. She raised a hand to silence him.
“This may be the one thing I agree with Sansa on. You should be king. My king.” The silence in the room was deafening. “When I take the Iron Throne, we will be wed. We will unify the North and the South and rule together. We will build a better world together.”
“Dany…” He sounded so confused and upset. It certainly wasn’t the reaction she had wanted, but it was the one she expected.
“If you ever loved me at all, Jon Snow, then you will accept my offer. It is the only way we can both be safe. As long as you are alive, you are a threat to me but if we are unified, then the threat becomes our advantage.” She could see him mulling it over. It was a valid argument and even if he no longer loved her, she knew he still cared.
“I will accept your proposal on one condition,” Jon replied.
“And that is?”
“Do not execute Varys. And promise to never lay a hand on Sansa, Arya, and Bran. Even if Sansa conspired against you, she is my sister and I trust her enough to believe she was only trying to do what she thought was best for the North.”
Dany made a big show of pondering his deal, even turning to catch the expressions on Missandei and Jorah’s faces. But she knew her answer. She would never be able to touch the Starks as long as she loved Jon.
“Very well. But the second Sansa challenges me again, I will have her removed as the Wardeness of the North and give it to someone I can trust. On the matter of Varys,” She glanced at the bald man, who had been restrained by her Unsullied guards, “I will consider your request based on his behavior going forward.”
Tyrion gave Varys a very pointed look and he knelt on the ground. “My Queen,” he said, “I beg your forgiveness. I always do what I think is best for the realm, but I seemed to have made a premature judgement. I apologize.”
“Put him in a cell,” she ordered the Unsullied. They saluted her and left, taking Varys with them.
XI.
When Jon visited her bedroom, she was waiting for him. She stood when he entered, but made no move to greet him, instead waiting for a cue on how he was feeling. Despite everything, she still loved him. And she wanted to be loved in return. It was ironic, in a way, that Jon couldn’t love her and she couldn’t love Jorah. How easy everything would be if either one had happened.
“Sansa promised not to tell anyone.”
“She told Tyrion within the day.”
“I didn’t think that anything would come of it. I never wanted to be king. I thought people would understand.” His voice got quieter as he stared into the fireplace. Dany wasn’t sure what she should do, wasn’t sure if he wanted her near.
“I am just trying to do what is best for both of us,” Dany whispered, the surety she had felt in the throne room had gone by now. “We do not need to share a bed or be intimate. The marriage in name alone will be enough to prevent anyone from trying to use your claim against me.”
“Dammit Daenerys!” He cried out. “You could have died! Varys tried to kill you! Because of me!” His hands fiddled with his tunic, the emotion strong in his voice.
“We all make our own choices,” Dany said, carefully.
“Yes they do. And I made the choice to put you in danger, despite you warning me. You saved me beyond the Wall and you saved my people at Winterfell but I let them disrespect you. I let Sansa and Arya question your morals and I betrayed your trust when I should have been there to support you after Grey Worm’s death. I am sorry.”
“We were all struggling after the battle against the dead. I know I have not always been the queen that my people have needed. I am not even sure if I am the queen that the people want.”
“The people don’t know you,” Jon said, fiercely. He was closer to her now but they still weren’t touching. “They only know the lies and the rumors. They don’t know what you did in the North or in Essos. But they will see once you take the throne. You can show them.”
“We show them together,” Dany corrected. “I want you ruling beside me. Not just as an image of unity. I know why Varys wanted you on the throne and you have as much experience ruling as I have.”
“How will we take King’s Landing?” She could sense his apprehension. She could feel it inside herself. It was as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, about to reach the point where they could not go back.
“We will burn down the Red Keep. It is the only way to quickly take the city before winter settles in. Some civilians may die, but I’ve rarely heard of a siege when they didn’t. We can minimize the damage. It will be a battle unlike any other battle fought and we can show the people that we intend to make their lives better.”
A fanatic glow entered Dany’s eyes as she spoke. Her face was right in front of Jon, begging him to see past the lies and to see her. All the fear from her advisors was unwarranted. She had never harmed innocents intentionally and had taken great strides to prevent any accidents from occuring. If Jon could trust her, if he could see that all she wanted to do was accomplish the same thing as every man and woman that had crowned themself a ruler in all of history.
She was not her father. And she was not Aegon the Conqueror. She was Daenerys Stormborn, the Mother of Dragons. She would show the world what mercy and justice looked like and burn anyone who dared harm the people she fought so hard to protect.
“You are my queen,” Jon whispered and she could feel his breath on her face. “And we will do this together.”
The kiss was worth all the betrayals.
XII.
The Red Keep was a disaster. Entire wings and towers had been destroyed in the battle. Snow mixed with the ashes and coated the floor of the throne room. Dany stood in the center of it all, trying to convince herself that it wasn’t a dream. The Iron Throne stood in front of her.
The battle had been over quickly once Dany had burned the Iron Fleet and the city walls. The city had surrendered after that and Jon had helped the Unsullied secure the streets while Daenerys flew to the Red Keep. She had made a big show of flying low over the city, only opening fire on the castle. She wanted what was rightfully hers and seeing the building made her heart ache for the family she had never known. The aunts and uncles, cousins, her brothers. Her mother .
Her burning of the Keep had resulted in a few minor explosions from wild fire caches. They burned out quickly, but left enough damage that Dany knew exactly what her first order as queen would be.
Soft footsteps sounded behind her and she turned to see Jorah approaching the throne. He looked at the chair with awe.
“I never thought I would stand before the Iron Throne,” He said. “It is smaller than I thought it would be.”
A smile broke over Dany’s face. “Viserys told me it had been forged from a thousand swords of Aegon the Conqueror’s enemies. I’m not sure he had his math right.”
“Viserys was often wrong about many things.” Dany hummed in response.
“You’ll need a new pin,” She added, nodding to his chest. “I want to change the design. Do away with the old and make a new small counsel with a new pin for the Hand.”
“I believe Ser Davos would make an excellent master of ships.”
“I will need to ask Jon what he thinks would be best.”
“I am happy for you,” Jorah said. “I know things were difficult in Winterfell and afterwards. But I believe you made the right decision.”
“Tyrion told me that Varys is still trying to turn Jon against me.” She frowned, pretending not to be blinking back the sudden rise of tears. “He keeps saying that I may be too much like my father. That I will march on Winterfell next and treat Jon more like a prisoner than a husband and a king.”
“Varys is a man from the old order, Khaleesi,” Jorah reminded. “He is used to corrupt tyrants and scheming nobles. He is used to seeing violence and I believe he has grown tired of it.”
“What I don’t understand is that both Jon and I have the blood of the Mad King flowing through us and we would have both used force to take King’s Landing. There was no other way to take the city. And yet Varys chose him over me.” No tears came this time. The sobs had been used on her friends and her people. She couldn’t cry anymore for Varys but the question still rang through her mind.
Why wasn’t she enough?
“I don’t know,” Jorah confessed. “But I know you will sit on the Iron Throne and you will protect the weak. I know that so many people have followed you that you shouldn’t take one betrayal to mean you are not worthy. You are worthy to Jon, the Unsullied, and Missandei. And you are more than worthy to me.”
The flapping of wings announced Drogon’s presence in the room. Dany smiled at the sight of her son. Jorah smiled too, although his eyes stayed on Dany. She had changed so greatly from the girl that had stepped out of the fire with three dragons but in so many ways, she was still the same.
“You are my closest friend, Jorah,” Dany confessed, “And although it is not the way you wanted, I do love you.”
“I am just happy to be at your side, Khalessi.”
“And I hope you stay here with me for many years,” she said, kindly.
“I am not perfect, but if you bear with me, I will be with you as long as I can.”
“That is all I need.”